Update 1.0

It's been quite a while since I've been able to write properly. Nose-deep in work and interviews and whatnot..the crazy roller-coaster that Waterloo is, has definitely taken a toll on my blog. So an update of sorts is in order.
a) As of September 2011 I shall be working as a Research Assistant at the lab of Dr. Andras Nagy at Mount Sinai Hospital in Toronto. The work involves a Cre-X-Mice database and stem cell research. This is awesome on so many levels that it is hard to know where to begin. Working with the team of a world renowned scientist who's been on the Scientific American Top Ten Honor Roll with the likes of Barack Obama and Bill Gates may just be the cherry on top of a potentially degenerative disease curing- ice-cream sundae.
Living in friggin Toronto! More and more, I'm starting to view Canada as a foreign vacation spot. This may have something to do with the fact that I'm not stuck inside my 2 by 4 room all day anymore, heh.
b) I went to my first music festival this weekend- the Burlington Sound of Music. A ton of really great Canadian artists and bands turned up including Ladies of the Canyon, Tokyo Police Club and Hollerado. Men Without Hats, in case you've heard of the Safety Dance. First official staying over for the weekend at non desi house. Meeting the fam and everything.
Highlight- my friend's adorable huge ass black border collie, Ringo who would Not stop sticking his face into my crotch. WHY do dogs do that? Very loud phone conversation with my brother while my friend was in the kitchen, preparing pancakes for me and totally heard him go , "So have the maple leaf people lynched you yet? Are you sleeping in the maid's room? But...they're white!" Steak sauce and barbeque, touching a GORGEOUS yellow python. We were walking down the street for the street festival and spotted these two hefty tattoed bearded men walking along with snakes curled on their arm. Ran after them and they allowed us to stroke their snakes. I'd always thought that snakes would feel slimy and clammy but they felt soft and leathery. I definitely want a snake as a pet now. Mmm...hippie lady at the carnival giving us sage advice about life in general and selling recycled shorts- they're stitched together from bits of upholstery, t-shirts, couches, pants etc. I absolutely LOVED the idea and wanted to get them, but in light of my recent revelation- which is that I have far too many clothes and I shouldn't be wasting money on any more when so many people have nothing; I now only spend money on food and education- I stayed strong and didn't buy any (I definitely botched up the punctuation on that sentence). Anyway, so Linds got inspired and bought hippie shorts much to the horror of her family, especially her preppy mum who kept going "Oh Lindsey!" She's normally a very put together preppy kinda girl herself so when she whipped out her Parisian beret thing, her dad very nearly had a fit. Heh, my work was done.
c) In related lame news, I seem to have built up my tolerance for alcohol. Vodka shots do nothing whatsoever to put me in 'high spirits' but I wake up the morning after with a hangover. WTF
d) I've started volunteering at the Cancer Centre of the KW Hospital, and I feel great about it. I think it's one of the few unselfish things I've done in my life, and I feel GREAT about it. Interacting with older folks who are so weak and helpless, and suffering from everything from hemorrhages to cancer, and being able to brighten their day or help them out even a smidge, makes me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile. Mum thinks it's going to be emotionally heavy, but I plan to keep at it for now at least.
e) I'm trying to come up with an alternative to printing out lecture slides and annotating them. The sheer wastefulness of it all really horrifies me, and I'm kinda sure that UW alone is responsible for deforesting a couple forests each year. Please- suggestions if any. Dragging your laptop to class is one- which I do- but it's impossible to do it for chem cuz of the graphs and equations etc.
f) I love my best friends. Really.
g) I'm going to Calcutta very very soon! August 11th to be precise. :D :D :D

Now that my hell week of midterms is over....I have more coming up .....aargh. There's more to say but I feel like I've bored y'all enough with mundane details. My writing's kinda fallen by the wayside now. Have a good week. Love and luck and peace to y'all

Fond memories of my brother, the Brat

* Ma, Baba, Bhai, and me sleeping in our luxurious hotel room in Cyprus. Ma and Baba all cosy in the big poofy hotel bed and me and Bhai in the sofa-bed pull-out. Bhai is a VERY clingy sleeper- when he was young(er) him and Baba used to curl up like caterpillars and sleep. Ma requires her own space to sleep, though she would always put her hand on my thigh when I was a kid and used to sleep beside her. I take personal space to a whole new level. I cannot BEAR it if somebody is even touching me; I require the illusion of vaaaaaast space to stretch out. But I like having someone beside me I can lean against. Yes, I know the blatant hypocrisy. Anyway, so that night Bhai wound his legs around me, put his arms around my neck and clung on fast in his sleep, while I wrestled with him and freed myself only to have him do it again 5 minutes later. So I tried futilely to kick my poor brother away rather viciously, while retreating to my side in a mad attempt to eke out some smidgeon of space. And Bhai kept edging closer and closer. This simply could not go on,  I decided. Being VERY inspired by Enid Blyton and Mallory Towers, my 12 year old brain formulated a plan. I went to the bathroom, took a towel and ran it under the tap until it was soaking wet. Then I crept back into bed and wrung out the water on my blissfully unaware brother’s face. I threw it under the bed as he woke up sputtering and going, “I’m drowning!” Ma woke up and told him to calm down- “You’re dreaming! Go back to sleep” Bhai ponders this advice and then bursts out- “BUT MY FACE IS WET!” Obviously, I got caught, but I was a very self satisfied criminal. Take that Bhai!

* At the kitchen table in Dubai, one night during dinner

Bhai: Samarth’s father is Ronaldo!

Me: I thought you said he was Ronaldinho.

Bhai: Sometimes he is. He is RONALDO AND RONALDINHO!

This is during the FIFA World  Cup in 2002, where Brazil support is at fever pitch and we blast “Braaasiiiiiiil! Arararara!” in the car everytime we’re in it. Ma and I actively supported his delusion for a while just cuz he was that darn cute.

* Another instance at the dinner table

Bhai holding up his squash: My potol is leaking!

* Me and Bhai re-enacting Lion King. No specific age for this, since we did it up until a little while ago.

Me (hanging over the edge of the bed- well technically on my skinny knees cuz my legs at that point do not belong to a toddler) : Scar! Brother! Help meeeee

Bhai (crouched on the bed, digging his nails into my hands) : Long. Live. The. King.

*he unclasps my hands*

Me (flailing my arms around and looking at him in shock and despair) : AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Bhai: Heeheeeheee!

Me: Wanna do it again? You be Mufasa, I’ll be Scar.

Bhai: OKAY!

* Bhai and Ma are in an auto full of people, whizzing along the streets of Calcutta. He is somewhere around 5 years old. Suddenly,

Bhai (pointing excitedly at something): MA! GORILLA! GORILLA!

Ma looks out confused, along with the rest of the passengers and beholds- a cow.

* In Dubai- our family and Krishnakali aunty and Partha Uncle- all of us eating lunch at a café.  Bhai is around 10 years old and missing his two front teeth. Suddenly,

Bhai: LOOK!

Everyone looks. Everyone: What?

Bhai: THAT GUY!

Everybody: Whaat?

Bhai *very gleefully*: HIS BUM! IT’S BIG!

Everybody: Ooookay.

Bhai * very very happily displaying his missing teeth and beaming* : HIS ASS IS HUUUUUUUUUGE! 

Note: My brother is very much alive and everything. Only, he turned 15 this March 3rd and it's getting harder to believe that he was once this sweet little baby boy. Today he is a very intelligent politically inclined, sports fanatic, articulate brusque teenager. 15! Every time I realize he's 15, I have a minor heart attack. At 14 I was dating my first boyfriend and falling in stupid love. At 15, I thought I knew it all- as undoubtedly so does he. Of course, he is a lot less meek than I was, and can be a lot more scary and set in his opinions than the eager to please girl that I was at that age. The age difference between us is 4 and a half years but he treats me like I'm the younger one. There was a point earlier on in our lives when he used to copy everything I did- from my sense of humour to the pranks I pulled. That stage is long gone, and I remember being an absolutely HORRIBLE sister to him when we were younger. I did everything from bashing his 5 year old head against the floor to stuffing his mouth with a dupatta, tying his hands and legs to a chair and locking him in the verandah gleefully. Very willingly he complied with me in all this. Today, I can look back at my pathological 9 year old self and laugh or be horrified, but I cannot help wishing he was born when I was a bit older, so that I could have appreciated him as a baby, rather than view him as competition. Somehow, God only knows why-  he does Not hate me, and we have a pretty healthy relationship. Living in another continent doesn't exactly foster closeness, though I really wish we were as close as pea-pods. Being very reluctant to grow up, I played pretend games long after he grew out of them, and I can remember many enjoyable afternoons spent building trains with cartons and tents, going on voyages on mighty ships and getting shipwrecked on deserted islands. Then came the bubble baths and cricket cards. Made up games for the backseat of the car- rock-paper-scissor, lady-hunter-tiger,fire-water-lady, hand-chess, zoom, antakshari. Then WWF, then Life with Louie and Drake and Josh and Naturally Sadie and Life with Derek and Black Hole High. Then coming to India, being miserable, being sick, constant fighting, then unexpected support in the form of a mail to SJB, when I was heartbroken during the ugly time. Then the move to Canada and barely staying in touch, being dismayed to find it matter of fact-ly easy. It's strange. You spend your life growing up with someone, fighting over food, the remote, clothes, everything, and then when you go off to university, you miss them but not nearly as much as you expected. And it's mutual. So either my family is heartless, or life is just plain weird. But then there are those moments when you really Long for your sibling, miss sharing a joke or ganging up against the grown-ups, resolving a fight together, squaring up in the face of parental conflict, comparing popularity and friend-lists. My brother has amazed me, annoyed the constipated crap out of me, brought out murderous tendencies, hurt me, stood up for me, beaten me up, and made me laugh till my jaws ached. He has given me company for 15 years and I am truly blessed and grateful to have this spoilt Brat in my life.

P.S- If you've read till here, I salute you. This was a random urge to put it down-post. May have something to do with the general happiness today or to do with The Mad Momma's blog.

WORLD FREAKING CUP BABY! FUCK YEAH. YEAH YEAH YEAAAAAAAAH! SUCK THAT UP, AUSSIES IN 2003! HELL YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH :D ;D :D