I know two persons in this entire country, literally. One is a friend and the other is a sibling on the other side of the continent. In addition, two more people on my cellphone’s contact-list are really acquaintances with whom I have verbal speech once every 12 weeks or a dozen fortnights, whichever is less. When I left the mother-ship to beam up to Planet Canada, I had bid farewell to all my half-a-dozen friends and relatives there as well, for good. A couple of them I speak to once every six months. But that’s another story.

Much is being made of the cold weather “alerts”, as they’re called here. These remind me of those almost-Orwellian efficiency ‘campaigns’ at government departments when suddenly saving a bunch of paper-clips becomes top priority just because a ‘green week’ is being celebrated — when it really should be standard practice.

But if braving Canadian winters (as blogged earlier) in a previous suburban neighbourhood seemed a little getting used to — as I was new to all this — surviving a recurring winter gives one plenty of fodder to ruminate over, if you’d excuse the terrible pun.

This time the company went bankrupt! Hahaha… Out of the blue. No goodbyes, no farewells, just kaput! Haha…! I am too dumbfounded even to register the implications just yet. For, such is the hilarity of this excruciatingly ridiculous cycle.

The cruel dark comedy of errors in the life of A Canada Immigrant continues, dear readers. I am sure by the time this new development sinks in, I won’t even be smiling, let alone writing this blog. No longer any point in