A friend of mine just asked me how I felt about the blasts in Bombay. I wasn't sure how to answer. Pretty much the same as I feel about the bombs in every other part of the world. Although, yes, I won't lie, I have friends in Bombay, and some family. So it is jarring in a more personal way. I think people expect me to be angry at someone. And maybe I could be, if I let myself. But I wanted to share the following verse instead (for those of you have seen Mr. And Mrs. Iyer, it might be familiar):

"...For what shall I handle a dagger, O Lord?
What can I pull it out of,
or stab it in,
when You are all the World?..."
-Devara Dasimayya, 10th century poet/saint


Something to think about.

By the way. We started Neuro today in school. It was the first lecture, a pretty introductory look-how-much-fun-we're-gonna-have-memorizing-endless-lists type of talk. But in the middle of it, our very humerous and cool prof showed a slide of various animal brains. The largest brain was that of a Dolphin. I realize that I just capitalized Dolphin, and I can't seem to stop. It's because I'm intimidated by them now. Their brains are much bigger. And the parts that are bigger are areas we assign to all our higher functions. Apparently marine mammals are minor deities. I'm afraid to go to Sea World, because I feel like it might just be them laughing at us, instead of the other way around.

I was banned from my computer due to excessive viral load. Also moving in to new amazing room. But now the viruses have been thwarted, although I suspect only temporarily. I'm drinking a Coke, and it makes me happy. The week before I left India, there was a huge scandal over how much pesticide there was in cola. They also showed a bottle of Coca Cola on TV with worms living in it. So I, ummm, drank a little less of it at that point. In fact, most restaurants stopped serving it (Yes, I asked for it anyway. I insist that the presence of pesticides in cola helped me not get GI disease this summer, although as a friend pointed out, I might now be more prone to cancer. Choose your poison). Here I can drink Coke again, although it's probably boring a hole in my stomach.

Back in Boston.
Jetlagged. Disoriented. Home(india)sick.
Monday.
School Starts.
But - I'm going kayaking on Saturday, about which I am inordinately excited.

I'm losing my mind over suitcases. I think I'm going to actually have to throw things out. Highly pitiful situash.

Power outages happen pretty often in India, so it was a riot to hear that my parents were sitting in the dark with candles in Michigan. Just hope everything stays safe and peaceful. I hear the lights should be back soon.

I'm crushed to be missing the All-Ivy cocktail party in Boston tonight. NOT.

Today is Independence Day in India. The radio and TV waves are chockful of I-Love-India. Unfortunately, it also means that most of the shopping is closed. But considering the state of my suitcases that's not a bad thing.

Day before yesterday was Raksha Bandhan. That's the day sisters tie colored/decorated strings on their brothers' wrists as a sign of something. Something like God protecting the brothers, and the brothers protecting the sisters. I tied strings on two of my cousin brothers. These days you need all the protection you can get, so it's best to cover your bases. The best part of the thing is that the brother has to give the sister a present. That's the part most of us know well.

I went yesterday and said goodbye to everyone at the NGO. It actually got quite sad, and there was a signed card and also gifts and sweets. I really was lucky to get to work with such a friendly, down-to-earth, yet fantastically motivated bunch of people. And lots of fun. I think we'll be in good touch, since I still have to write up all the interviews.

My neck has been stiff all day, and I feel feverish. I'm thinking meningitis.

I leave for Boston on Sunday morning. I get to Boston on Sunday evening. A quick day trip across a couple of continents.
I'm excited to get back actually. My parents are picking me up from the airport. And soon after that I'll also get to see my beloved puppy. Pups are the BEST.

I was talking with someone the other day, and they mentioned the year 2100. And I said, "You really think humans will be around then?" That sparked off a conversation about whether we take the future of our species for granted. I realize that I don't. In fact, I have very little faith that we won't all perish in fire and fever before the year 2100.

"The Hulk" has just been released here. I think I will wait to see it in Boston...bigger theater...important for special-effects-driven movie about green superhero. By the way...do all you New England people know about Chunky's? www.chunkys.com
I don't think they are showing anything great right now, but it's always an experience. Thank you Sarah for bringing Chunky's into my life.

Man, the dreams are out of control. MUST be the Malaria meds.
Anyway, last night's dream was cool/scary at the same time. I'm in a jumbo jet, and I decide I need some fresh air. So I grab my trusty drawing notebook and some color pencils and sneak out of one of the double-plated, oval windows. I'm reclining, leisurely-like, near the tail of the plane. Meanwhile, another plane draws up behind us. There's a UPS guy peeking out of the belly of the plane, throwing packages out so that they can reach their destinations. Think of stork throwing babies. I yell out, "Hey there! Are you American?" He waves and nods and smiles. We're trying to communicate further when I realize that we're flying over Vietnam, during the war. The plane starts doing dramatic rolls. I lose my drawing book and color pencils, and one sandal. I'm clinging to the tail, terrified, and having a great time. Then we land in Rockport, Massachusetts. I visit some gift shops by the sea, except all the gift shops are selling Indian things. Well, that's not that far from the truth.
Ok, so who knows what that means.

I was watching a documentary last night called "A Tryst with Destiny". Nehru's famous words on the eve of India's independence. The documentary featured original footage from the early 1900's. Fascinating. And heartbreaking. They showed footage of entire villages being burned during Partition, and we kept having to remind ourselves that it wasn't a movie set. Millions of people lining the railway tracks - not extras in a movie. They also showed a number of British officers going off on a tiger hunt. They hunted 130 tigers, just on that hunt (not to mention 27 rhinoceroses, among other things). I eat meat, but I feel like it's better to eat an animal than to skin it for its fur. Eating is natural. I'm sure many people would disagree. A good friend of mine, a staunch vegetarian, just purchased a drum lined with real fur. He's never telling me to not eat meat again!

On Monday, I attended my last clinic here with HIV patients. Clinic day is like a holiday here, since a lot of the patients and family members are friends. After the doctor has seen everyone, there is usually a good adda (chatting/hanging out perfected by the Bengalis) that takes place on mats on the floor. Fried yummies are ordered in, and the talk continues. I took the opportunity to have some more involved conversations with a few patients. Bumbling along with my notebook, I came across a young woman whose story ripped into my heart. I might regret sharing this on a blog, but I feel like putting it out there in whatever little way I can, because her courage and strength are inspiring...I'll try to be brief...and I'm pretty sure this is very anonymous. When she was 18, she was working for a lamp factory. She made very little money, so a man in her neighborhood offered to take her to another factory. When she arrived there, she found three other women, also "looking for a job", brought there by friends and relatives. They were drugged and kidnapped, and taken all the way across the country by train. She spent one year in a warehouse, with many other women, without leaving...forced to work as a prostitute, but receiving no money. After a year, she fell dangerously ill with a number of STDs, and she was driven from the warehouse to a train station and put back on a train with a bag of clothes, still no money. She arrived at her home station and just sat on the platform, delirious with fever, until an acquaintance happened to recognize her. He took her to her mother, who had not heard from her in a year. Since then, she has been treated for her STDs, and comes to the HIV clinic as well. Both she and her mother wept as they told the story, and I did too. Now she is 24 years old and works at the lamp factory again to support herself and her mother. It saddened me immensely to talk to this woman, whose smile is SO bright, and who has been through hell and come back. But what scared me was how ubiquitous her story is. It's not rare.

I feel guilty about not writing more often. The last couple of weeks here are turning into chaos. Errands, shopping, work, family. All jumbled together until I can barely see straight at the end of the day and fall asleep exhausted. I am looking forward to getting back to Boston, except I know that the moment my plane lands I'm going to start counting the days until I can come back here. So it goes.

I am very excited because I just read a report from Britain that claims that Medical Students live longer than anyone. This, in spite of their heavy smoking and drinking! The article also mentioned that perhaps the longevity was in compensation for the reported unhappiness of their profession. Maybe all the years we spend in school just get tacked on to the end of our lives.

Yay for my awesome friend Konkona Sensharma, for winning the National Award for Best Actress for her film "Mr and Mrs Iyer"!! Her mom, Aparna Sen, won Best Director for the same film. The mood here is all very slap-me-on-my-back-congratulate-me. As it should be. (The National Awards are India's highest awards for serious film - it doesn't usually include the song and dance extravaganzas we associate with Bollywood). Anyway, it's a great movie - deals with love in the time of communal violence - and I think it's playing in the West now.

I recently visited a friend of mine's blog, and he has been rating his music, books and movies with stars. Like a real newspaper. I looooove that. I have a feeling that I might start doing that, because I've always thought reviewing things must be the best job. Especially restaurants. Eating amazing food for free. And then getting dramatically emotional about it. PERFECT.