Friday, September 24, 2010

The PhD Affair

My officemate had some profound thoughts on PhD that she enlightened me with. She said that doing a PhD is like being in a relationship. On certain mornings, you wake up feeling all lovey dovey, floating on cloud 9, knowing that you are the luckiest person in the world to be in this relationship. You look forward to your research, have a wonderful time with your advisor, get your tuitions waived and get paid to obtain a degree. You network, publish, write, teach, nurture, learn, experiment, wonder, analyze, and grow as an individual while being a part of the relationship.

Yet on certain days, depending on that time of the month, the phase of the moon, or the phase of your (or your advisor’s) mood, you feel like screaming. You know you are living a lousy life, a thankless life of an underpaid and overworked graduate student. You spend days and nights at the lab, neglect your pet, don’t give as much time to the “real” relationship you have, never call back your mother on time, and never earn enough. The moron in the adjacent lab who you always thought was a loser graduated with a masters and is now happily working, driving a BMW, making monthly trips to Hawaii and the Bahamas, and has been voted the “most sought after single guy” on shaadi.com. Your advisor is never happy with your deliverables, midlife crisis has hit you, you are losing hair and growing fat, and speed dates and blind dates have been replaced with speed deadlines and blind deadlines. You hate this relationship. You can’t wait to get out of it.

And then you wake up again and feel so lucky, rubbing shoulders with the brightest people in the field, fantasizing about wearing that gown being hooded hopefully in the next few years, and telling yourself that while the moron next door spends his weekends partying, you burn the midnight oil for the greater cause of mankind.

And the cycle of I hate my PhD life and I love my PhD life continues …

sunshine

Monday, September 20, 2010

Dreaming Within a Dream

A few months ago, I had a dream. I saw that something good was happening to me, something I’d hoped for a while. It was nothing materialistic. In fact I don’t remember what exactly it was though. However I woke up and there, the dream was gone. It was sad.

Ever since, I have a pattern of dreams. I see that I dream of something good happening to me, and I tell myself in the dream that it is just a dream and will vanish, and I wake up to realize that it is true. I saw I made it up with someone I hadn’t talked to for years, and in my dream, I told the person that it is just a dream and in real life, I know I am never seeing him again. I woke up and there it was. I hadn’t made up with anyone. It was just a dream. On another occasion, I saw that Harvard had reconsidered its decision of admitting me into their program, and I was asking the dean if its reality, because I suspected it is just a dream. I was right. I woke up to realize I was still as far from Harvard as possible, both geographically and literally.

These must have been examples of repressed desires, things that I have wanted in the subconscious though in reality, I kept telling myself that it did not matter. Who cares about Harvard is what I told myself. But deep within, I think I cared. It was a good exercise, since I started asking myself the things I really want although I might have shrugged them off consciously all this while. The list, I am not going to tell you about. But I can say that it is an exercise definitely worth doing. If nothing, we can be more aware of the things that constitute our needs, things we keep telling ourselves does not matter. Repressed desires, forgotten friendships, decisions of moving on, things that make you shrug your shoulders and say “I don’t care” though deep within, you know you do care. If nothing, you will at least not fool yourself going back and forth between your inner/true reality and the perceived reality.

I want to read and know more about dreams and their interpretations (and I am not talking about dreams where you see something random like a horse and know that you are going to have a baby boy). I want to watch sensible movies about interesting experiences or explanations about dreams. It is interesting to know about our conscious, cognitive world, but what happens in the subconscious is even more intriguing.

sunshine

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Small is eventually beautiful

A dark summary of how moving from a boastfully big north-western American city to a small university town on the east changed my attitude towards looking at things, and doing things.

It wasn’t a comfortable move, comfortable being synonymous with “sit-on-my-ass-and-do-nothing”. Boxes were filled, things were sorted, most were thrown, decisions were made, muscles power was spent, and so was money. Hundreds of dollars slipped through as if there was a sink hole sitting right there. Car was moved, bank balance was depleted, farewell parties were attended, gyaan about move and new life was accepted, and good wishes of “hope you meet someone there” were received with a disinterested smile. Planes were changed, a sleepless night was spent cruising through air pockets and waiting 5 hours at an airport for the next connection. Then I hopped onto this plane that was to take me to my final destination, realizing that it is the smallest plane I have ever seen or taken, so small and cramped that even my carry-on luggage had to be checked in. Sitting huddled in the aircraft, I made a mental note of losing more weight. As we descended, the landscape below kept getting greener and greener. It was beautiful, alright, but then all forests are beautiful. I was hoping to see the smaller version of maybe the Space Needle or the Downtown skyline lookalike, and there, we had landed. I didn’t see anything, not even a building more than a couple storey high. We had landed in the middle of lush, green vegetation. It was an airport alright, but so small that you had to actually hop off the plane onto the ground, pat the plane at the back as you would do to the elephant buddy that just gave you a ride across the Periyar Reserve in Kerala, and walk to the baggage claim area inside the airport.

Welcome to the typical American small town, a voice said sarcastically.

My electronic friend (friendships made over chats and emails) was waiting to pick me up. There were six more cars maybe. Not much traffic, huh? By now, my mind had gone to that mode where I was comparing everything I had there and I saw here. Space Needle, no Space Needle. Tall downtown buildings (really tall ones that gave you neck aches). No buildings at all. Rushed traffic at the Seattle airport. A few cars seldom qualify as traffic.

So I hopped on to the car, and in the next 10 minutes, I was home. Not that my new house was located particularly close to the airport. Here, everything is located close to each other. I mentally wrinkled my nose. An inner voice almost boasted, “Seattle airport is way bigger and crowded, and you take like two interstate freeways and drive for an hour before you could get to the airport. People can actually miss flights getting delayed in traffic. Whereas here I could be walking slowly and still not miss my flight”.

This attitude of comparing that versus this continued for the next few weeks. Every time someone would casually or courteously ask about Seattle, I would get into this rant about how big and bright Seattle was. I needed to get a hold on myself, I was getting paranoid. I was soon to realize that my new university town did not have a Macys. There were the other basic stores alright, Bath and Body Works, Target, Office Depot, Walmart, but there was only one store of every kind (except McDonalds I guess). I remember almost bitching to T, “What kind of a horrible place this is. They just have a single store for every chain”. There were a few English movie theaters, but the nearest Hindi movie theater was 2 hours away. In fact the next big city was 2 hours away. I was horrified that there were not that many places to drive and hike compared to Seattle. Everything looked green but kind of monotonous. The volcanic mountains and the coast of the west were missing. There was no Mount Rainier around. No Olympic mountains and no Lake Washington. The town started and ended within a diameter of a couple of miles. I was dreading the day when people would visit me and I would have nothing to show them around.

I remembered my friend from Wyoming who lived amongst fields and mountains and had remarked during her Seattle visit that America is not all concrete and big city and flashy downtown like I perceive. America could also be this boring place in the middle of potato fields with nothing to do but sit at home. And that was the America she and most others from India got to see. There are very few international students who actually get to live in big, vibrant cities.

That day I had shrugged, “Whatever !!” Today, I understood what she had meant.

Things changed the first day I woke up late for class. The class was at 9 am and I was horrified to discover it was past 8:30 am. I scrambled, skipped breakfast, and ran up to the bus stop cursing myself. I luckily got the bus and guess what? I reached the department at 8:55 am. The other day we went to watch a movie and thanks to the game, the roads were blocked. We had to take a detour and even after that, we reached the theater 10 minutes late, just in time to catch the movie starting. Think about how cool it is that you can start 15 minutes before class and still reach on time. In fact you can start for any place and in 5-15 minutes you would be there. Yes there is just one store of each kind, but this means less confusion. If I ask someone to wait for me in front of Starbucks, there is no confusion as to which Starbucks I am referring to (Only a Seattleite can vouch for how many hundreds of Starbucks there are and how it adds to the confusion). I have all my favorite chains of stores, including Chipotle, and I don’t care about the number of stores because I realize I can only be at one place at a time.

These days, I find it comforting that I don’t have to deal with the hustle and bustle associated with big cities, parking issues, traffic clogs, and the confusion and complication of living in a bigger city. Anyone who has been caught up in evening traffic on the 520 while traveling from Redmond to Seattle will know what I mean. I like the fact that I live with a bunch of graduate students (and not working professionals) and thus do not feel mentally pressurized into taking the flight and going to some place during the long weekends. This weekend I just cleaned and organized my home, read books, watched movies, and did nothing. My weekends in Seattle were not so. It used to be so pretty that I was pressurized and coerced into going somewhere every weekend. I still love to travel, but I have realized that this place is so small, I must keep those special places I want to visit for future when friends and family visit me, for I hope I am going to be here for the next few years. So these days I have developed new and more sessile interests like watching movies and reading books. I am working towards developing better relationship with others as this is going to be my social group for the next few years. And for a change, I actually like the fact that I am not pressurized into planning trips and driving on weekends all the time. This way I hopefully get to finish my PhD sooner.

It takes a while to get used to things if you are used to a bigger and more vibrant city and move to a smaller one. But once you realize the benefits and the simplicity of living in small towns, you will begin to appreciate what I mean. I no longer intend to drive to bigger cities during weekends, like I had originally planned. Instead, I am going to go to the only Starbucks in town, with a book bought from the only Barnes and Noble book store. I am going to read the book, observe people, chat with them, and write about my experiences. When I am done, I will lie by the lawn on campus and soak in the warmth of the sun. I would think of all those people caught up in traffic snarls and delayed flights at the airport and sigh in relief. I don’t need to go anywhere for a vacation. My work place is now my vacation place.

sunshine

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

The PhD Launch Pad

Living in the IT-hub called Seattle and hanging out with a bunch of techie geeks, I listened with yawning boredom to all the tech talks, the heated discussions about if an Ipad is better than an Ipod, an Ipod is better than the Droid phone, and so on. I was surrounded by gadget maniacs, people who lived, loved, and were wedded to gadgets. I have known friends who window shopped at the apple store for hours, or booked iphones even before they were launched. 2G led to 3G and then 4G. I don’t really get much of it, and learning new technology sure does scare me. I like to keep the things in life simple. I used my phone set, a simple one that can be used solely to talk, for four years till it’s parts were threatening to come apart, thanks to excess usage and baby Kalyani fiddling with it whenever she could lay her tiny hands on it. Last week G forced me to get a new phone, a free upgrade that I had resisted for so long. It’s a simple phone, again used solely for conversation, but just the thought of learning how to use a new device scared me. It took me days to figure out how to control volume or put it in the silent mode, how to send messages without sending it to the wrong person, and how to set the alarm clock so that I wake up on time. You get the point I hope.

My advisor is a gadget crazy person. Like I’ve noticed with most men, his eyes light up with childlike excitement whenever he talks about those cool machines he ordered and the glamorous phones and computers he uses. I am yet to see the cool machine he has that tracks eye ball movements as one gets into deep thinking. In one of those states of deep thought, he finally blurted out, “I need you to get an ipad.”

I didn’t think I heard him right. Who needs an ipad for research? He said he needs to keep in touch with me even when I am traveling. I tried assuring him such a situation wouldn’t arise as I wouldn’t travel if there was work. I mean it takes me hours to figure how a simple mp3 player works. I thought ipads are toys for the rich and spoilt CS people. I left it at that.

The next day he asked me again if I had given it a thought. What was there to think? I didn’t want an ipad, or any gadget. Why couldn’t he get me a gift card from Barnes & Noble? Or take me to his next conference where I could see a new place? But then, words of wisdom came from a senior who I asked if there was any need for me to have an ipad.

“Take it as a gift from a person who loves technology and leave it at that. It’s much simpler that way.”

So dear friends, I’ll soon be a proud owner of a 64 GB ipad 3G. I don’t know what those words mean, I just googled the name. Like I told a friends, “I usually have an apple in my bag just in case I get hungry…... now I'll have 2 in my bag :)"

How times change. 4 years ago, my school gave me a flash drive as a gift. It had thrilled me beyond everything. The world has come a long way from giving away flash drives to ipads.

How much I learn to use it is yet to be seen though.

sunshine

Monday, August 23, 2010

School of Thought

It's time to start the next chapter.

It’s time to leave those fancy handbags behind and pick up that backpack.

It’s time to hunt for free food on campus and live on Maggi, Subway, and Chipotle.

It’s time to stop living in that apartment alone, and to have fun staying with roommates.

It’s time to brag about the campus you will be spending the next few years of your life in.

It’s time to get into the vicious cycle of sleeping during classes and staying up late finishing assignments.

It’s time to subscribe to PhD comics.

It’s time to start taking the bus again instead of hopping onto the car every time.

It’s time to aim for those conferences and travel at the advisor's expense.

It’s time to push myself to do something new and creative, and to try to be productive everyday.

After a break of 2 years from school, it’s time to get back to school again.

sunshine

Thursday, August 05, 2010

What’s up?

It’s been a long time since I visited my own blog. Talk about priorities. So much has happened ever since the last time, I keep penning down snippets of thoughts till my mind wanders off to the next thing.

So what’s been happening? A lot actually.

I miss Kolkata. But not as much as I miss the home cooked food. The biryani ma made for my farewell lunch was awesome.

I miss watching Indian Idol 5 live. It was something to wait in anticipation for Mondays and Tuesdays. Now I just update myself watching it online.

Germany is a very efficient country. If there is a place I would like to work in, it could be Germany.

Europe is all about nice castles and palaces, trains and trams, cobbled streets and nice little shops. US doesn’t seem as visually appealing to me as it used to ever since I left Europe.

My obsession with my favorite movie “Before Sunrise” led me to plan a trip to Vienna where the movie was shot. I wasn’t disappointed. Vienna lived up to my expectations, and more.

My other obsession with Mills & Boon, and those tall, dark hunks led me to plan another trip to Italy. Italian men look as handsome as I always thought they would, and Italian women are the best dressed and good looking women I have seen. Italy seemed like the fashion capital.

Prague was beautiful, just wish it wasn’t that hot there.

I am sporting a nicely developed tan as a gift from my Eurotrip that will take me years to get rid of.

A little accident on the streets of Sicily, I tore my ligament and am in bandages and crutches. Not that it has stopped me from doing anything, but the bandage needs to be there for 6 more weeks.

Which is why I am not driving from the western coast of the US to the eastern coast anymore. My big plans of the 3,000 mile road trip I had planned for this summer goes down the drain. Sob sob !!

I am in the US now. I entered the US in a wheelchair. Which also meant minimum security questioning for me, and minimal waiting in queues. The services and assistance provided by Lufthansa impressed me.

I am slowly catching up on emails and posts, but am spending most of my time figuring out how to ship my car and stuff, preparing myself for school that starts in 3 weeks, and meeting friends in Seattle. I never thought I would make so many acquaintances here, but for the next few days, my lunch, dinner and evening schedules look full.

Lastly, I just turned a year older a few hours ago. As a kid, you wait in anticipation for your birthday, waking up and meeting all your friends in school, your friends wishing you, your teachers being nice to you. Your perspectives change as you get older. For me, the people who mattered to me and who I mattered to were all there, personally or in spirit.

It’s time to plan the move again, but will catch up soon.

sunshine

Thursday, July 08, 2010

A Big Fat-(free) Lie

At some point of my life, roughly 83 hours and 52 minutes ago, I got tired of hogging on all the Rasgulla, Gulab Jamuns, Rabri, and all those deep fried masses of sugars and calories. Nothing triggered it, it just happened. I guess it’s like giving up on smoking (or getting rid of that loser of a boyfriend you should have left 5 years ago). You have been thinking of doing it for a while, and every time you try, you just fail. Then one fine morning, you wake up and just do it. I think the same happened to me. I have been unhappy with the way I have put on weight for the last few years. From being a person who jumped at the center of the screen whenever I spotted a camera, now I started shying away from the camera, finding a comfort spot behind somebody so that my paunch was hiding. Paunch I could still hide wearing appropriate clothes, but where would I hide my face, a big round blob of fat now with chubby cheeks? It’s been years since I’ve seen my face oval, the original way God designed it. Anyway I will rant about my body and looks some other time (I promise I will). I will not spare you, I will even rant about my huge biceps, till you are bored to death. Anyway.

So one fine day I just decided to give up on the empty calories. This was the least I could do, since I wasn’t committed to gymming and working out big time. The mangoes looked at me from the fridge expectantly and I looked back at the mangoes with pain. The neighbor who makes awesome “Patisaptas” (sweet crepes stuffed with coconut and jaggery and sometimes condensed milk filling) was promptly asked not to make those for my goodbye dinner in 5 days. Convincing mother wasn’t a problem since she has always been after me to lose weight, but convincing neighbors and relatives who believe in increasing their good karma by stuffing another Rasgulla into your mouth became a big problem. I turned down two dinner invitations feigning a stomach ache because it is futile to argue and explain to these people why I will not hog on the coconut cream based prawns, the deep fried potato tikkis, and the four courses of dessert following a five course dinner. Not that I have slimmed down overnight, but I still intended to stick to my decision of not eating rubbish.

So I went to visit my ex-student’s place. I taught her Math for 4 years and though she sucked at Math, we became great friends. Ironically I was the one who told her that Math isn’t everything in life, but as long as she studies it, she should do it well. I go visit my student after 4 years, and aunty (her mom) gets me a huge brown chocolate pastry and a tall glass of chilled iced tea. Poor aunty is familiar with my eating habits four years ago when I used to religiously devour every sweet she put on my plate (I don’t just have A sweet tooth, my entire dentition is sweet !!). Today I had already reached the stage when I was having sugar withdrawal symptoms, a little dizziness in my head and a very irritable temper caused by it. Not that I was starving or dieting, I just decided not to hog on high-calorie, low-nutrient stuff.

My plea of neither touching the chocolate pastry nor the iced tea fell on deaf ears. I promised I was more than happy sipping on a glass of cold water, but she wouldn’t understand. I tried reasoning with her, feigning a stomach ache, but nothing worked. Poor aunty must have been worried what she would offer me instead; maybe she didn’t have too many options. When nothing worked out, I had the most innovative idea. The only problem with that was, well, I can plan a lie beforehand and deliver it well, but when I make up an instant lie, I usually get caught.

“Aunty, please don’t insist. I have been diagnosed with high cholesterol”.

I don’t know why I said it, but it was one of those things you say first and think later. It sounded odd to my ears, high cholesterol at 28?

“Oh dear, sorry about it”. Aunty promptly put back the goodies away.

So we sat in an uncomfortable silence the next few minutes, aunty too shocked to ask me to eat anything and me too scared to speak lest I am caught.

“So how did it happen?”, she asked. “Family history?”

Now something in me refused to malign my impeccable family history. I was already feeling guilty for making up illnesses I do not have.

“Uh, not really. Just a bad American lifestyle. Not eating well and all”.

So the conversation drifted to normal soon. We spoke about this and that.

“Where did you get your tests done?”

I must admit I was totally unprepared for the question that caught me off guard. I was about to say our family doctor’s name in Kolkata, but something in my head was screaming our family doctor is aunty’s brother-in-law too.

“Aa- aa- bbb- bbb….”

Aunty stared at me stammer.

“Bbb—bbb--- Bellevue clinic”

“Which one? In Kolkata?”, she asked.

“No no, the one in Seattle? Bellevue clinic in Seattle”

“Oh.. okay”

“My memory getting bad aunty. These days I forget names so often”, I explained lamely.

The chocolate pastry stared at me from the corner of the room for the next 30 minutes, untouched. I came back later that night and had healthy roti and subzee for dinner. I wonder if aunty ever realized I gave her some instantly concocted lie. Even if she did, I’m sure she would know it was an innocuous, fat fat-free lie.

sunshine

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

A season of changes

The sad part of visiting home once every few years is that while you are away, some people you thought you would meet when you are back are no more. Yesterday when I said my final goodbyes to my grandparents, I wondered if I will ever meet them again. Not that they are sick or ailing, but they are old. When I came back to Kolkata, one thing I couldn’t help noticing is how grown up the kids looked, and how old or aged the adults looked. I was seeing people after 4 years, and my mind could not keep pace with the changes time had carved out for everyone of us. Mother has more strands of grey hair than I could remember. Father has a couple of wrinkle lines that wasn’t there before. Grandfather is almost white and bent with age. Grandmother has slimmed down a lot (and ironically looks younger) after her gall bladder removal. My maternal uncle in his mid-40s died of a heart attack a few months ago. My grandfather’s elder brother died of cancer.

And then some people are married, some have divorced, and some have remarried. The so called kids have started going to college. Newly born babies have started going to school. The guy in the neighborhood whose leg was amputated after the train accident got an artificial leg.

Some people are missing black hair, while some have gone bald. Wrinkles. Missing gall bladders and kidneys. Depressing, moribund, and strangely funny conversations, ranging from who died under what circumstances, and what was the menu during the death rituals. I think we Bengalis are a strange lot, deriving stimulation from recounting gory details of someone’s last days of life, the menu of the death ceremony, and even who was wearing what.

In the broader scheme of things, there are more changes. Anu Malik has copied more songs. I've thankfully stopped listening to Himesh Reshammiya. There are more flyovers. More crowded trains and metros. Longer queues. Steeper prices. More KFC and Subway joints. Something in the city is dying. The innocence of the city is dying.

Next time I visit, there will be more changes. More people I grew up with gone. More wrinkles. More white hair. More baldness. When you see people once in a few years, the change is stark. It depresses me. It depresses me more to think that I am growing old too. I’m progressing and retrogressing at the same time, in the same time scale, with the same people.

And in this depressing scale of things, I have some comfort. I feel happy looking at old picture albums. Pictures where I was a baby. Parents looked so young. Grandmother took me to school and picked me up. We had more fun filled family trips. Roads looked less crowded. Amusement parks looked more exciting. School friends who vouched to always be with each other.

Things are changing. And for good or for bad, I have to accept it.

sunshine

Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Free mein Gyaan

Some random gyaan on spreading news, free of cost for you :)

Information dissemination is a skill worth learning, what to say, how much to say, and more importantly, what not to say. Is it okay to confide to a best friend, where everyone is someone else's best friend? "But I had to tell my best friend about it, and she promised she won't tell anyone".


Don't confide anything to anyone you are not prepared to publish in a newspaper otherwise. Just my 2 cents :)


sunshine

Saturday, July 03, 2010

Babies with personality

I just spent 2 hours in a pediatrics clinic while getting my immunization reports updated. Our family doctor also happens to be a famous pediatrician, and since I had barged in without prior appointment, I was asked to wait or come back in 2 hours. I should have gone home and come back, but I decided to wait and observe the babies for a while. I did not have anything pressing to take care of at home anyway.
Babies are not little adults. They have a mind of their own. They communicate and negotiate even with their little and almost non-decipherable vocabulary.
The baby personality
There were real babies. Those who are a month or two old. Some looked so tiny that it seemed they hadn’t even hatched properly. Eyes closed, toothless smiles, little fists, they are a delight to watch. I observed one had a little finger even tinier than my nail. One had an entire hand the length of my palm. And to think I was of that size too someday.
The adult-baby personality
Some babies had accompanied their little siblings who were getting shots. These are the caring and curious kinds who touch their sleeping brothers a little on the cheek to see how the baby responds. A little fellow, a heavy chocolate addict as obvious from his missing dentition, derived great pleasure tickling the feet of the little one when the mother wasn’t looking. They were like adult-babies, still babies because of their age, but very adult-like in behavior.

The throwing-the-tantrum or the negotiator kind

These babies had negotiated with their parents, that a visit to the doctor is going to cost them perhaps the doctor’s fees and 2 chocolate bars, a coloring book, or a toy extra. The shopkeeper had strategically placed all the toys and chocolates and other goodies that attract attention near the counter where you paid, so that one could not avoid that particular place by choice. I actually saw a baby promptly wiping her tears after the visit to the doctor and negotiating with the parents, “Okay, now buy me toys and chocolates".

The drama-kind

These kids freaked out at the sight of the clinic even without being so much as touched by the doctor. They perhaps feared an injection, the smell of the clinic, or the way the doctor looked, for even before they were touched or examined, they started to howl out of fear. Of course taking them to the area where these chocolates and coloring goodies were located calmed them down temporarily and helped the clinic get back its sanity.

The friendly/gregarious kind

These babies are great friends to make. They smile, run around, make friends with other babies, talk to random strangers as if they are family, refer to other babies as “little brother” and “little sister”, and ask questions instead of sulking in a corner and crying out of fear. One such cute little fatso, wearing a sleeveless shirt, went up to all the babies and touched them with fondness. This fellow came back to me, looked at me, and said, “Doctor will give you an injection”. Not knowing why a friendly chap would smile and try to tell me scary things, I replied, “But the doctor is already behind you with an injection”. The boy panicked for a bit, turning back, only to realize he was made a fool of. Regaining his composure and refusing to be verbally defeated by someone 4 times his size, he looks back at me with a very unperturbed and a suspense-filled expression, telling me, “Wait till the fishes in the oceans attack you and bite off your cheek”. As I feign fear, the boy chuckles at his verbal victory, bids all the other kids a goodbye and leaves the clinic, animatedly chatting with his mother.

After watching 20 babies or so, the doctor finally signed my immunization papers. In the meantime, I spent a fun-filled 2 hours watching these little ones, each having a completely different personality than the other.

sunshine