Looking back on things, it's been a great run.
It's possible that suman latik may be a strange topic. It's possible that it may be an unworkable topic. But at least I can say that I took it and ran with it.
In addition, I know that it's had at least two beneficial effects on my blogging habits:
First, it's allowed me to write at least three posts per week. Writing at a regular pace is important for both a writer and his blog; it keeps the writer in good practice, and it makes sure that any regular readers of the blog remain regular readers. People don't bookmark sites that tend to become uninteresting and/or stagnant, after all.
Second, it's allowed me to explore multiple angles to a single topic. As far as I know, I've attempted to write suman latik into the comic strip, interactive fiction, and comedic biblio-religious formats, and that's among the many other expository and introspective essays I've turned out. Strangely enough, I've hardly written any suman fiction for this exercise, although I've somehow managed to segue between suman and literary writing every now and then. I can tell you that, once you start running out of ideas, you start looking at a lot of fringe approaches, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. :)
With all that said, and with all the curiosity that goes into both writing and reading posts like these, I have to say that even great runs have to end sometime.
No, this isn't the last suman latik post you'll see from me. That'll probably come next week or so. If anything, that should allow you and me to savor the moment when it comes.
The last bite of suman always works like that, I think. You chew your way through the rice, taste the sweetness of the sauce, perhaps crunch your way through the remaining bits of sugar. Sometimes the last bite is gone before you realize it; you pop it into your mouth distractedly, never knowing that it's no longer there until you reach for that empty plate.
Sometimes, however, you know that the last bite is there. You know that once you consume that final piece, the taste will linger only as a memory. And you pause and think, wondering whether or not it happened to be a good piece of suman. Sometimes you think it was. Sometimes you don't, and just look forward to the next piece.
Whatever the case, once you're aware of the presence of that last bite, you savor the moment.
It's all unconscious, really. But it's fitting, after all, that after you savored an entire piece of suman, then you get to savor your knowledge of the entire experience afterwards.
In that sense, it's quite filling after all.