Time does not heal

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A lump in my throat gets bigger as your birthday approaches. This is the second Birthday you will miss. I can still clearly remember how we celebrated you on your special day. Time is not waiting for anyone, as it zips by at an alarming rate. Oh how I wish I could rewind time, so I could just celebrate you one more time. But we celebrate you every day with the beautiful memories you left us with.

You always wondered if your presence mattered. Yes it did, and not only to us, but to an entire community that you had made your new home. You often talked about going home, but you were home. You just didn’t realize it. All those tears you wasted on people who did not care about whether you existed or not, will not go in vain.

My heart still aches everyday for you. Not being able to hear your voice, not being able to drive down to see you, is something I have adjusted to. I am extremely thankful that I spent over 40years of my life being a part of your life. I know life does go on, but that lump in my throat does not go away. Time does not heal, it only makes us adjust, and go on with our lives. We will meet again, and I know you will be waiting to greet us. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy and pain free. You are loved, and missed tremendously by your loved ones.

Happy Birthday my Joon Joon-I love you.

I am a Loser

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Picked up my son from school last week, and the first words that came out of his mouth were, “I am a loser Mom.”

Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever expected my son to say these words. Where had he heard them, who called him that? All these questions raced through my head, while the pit in my stomach grew. My first reaction was that of shock, and then the anger came. I asked him at the top of my voice what happened in school?

A little background about my son. He is a happy little kid, an honest little boy with a big heart, who sees good in everyone. He is the kid who gets picked on because he is gullible, and simple. But yet he continues to trust, and help his friends whenever he can.

He is starting to understand that the world is made up of people who don’t want the best for him. This crushes his spirit, and in turn makes the lioness in me come out. There is a constant battle in my head that wants to tell him to go ahead and be mean to them, but then we have enough of the mean kids around. I am raising my child to show respect, love and honesty no matter what, and who hurts him. But I am also raising him to stand up for himself, and for others who cannot.

But what happens when he cannot approach an adult in school? What if he is scared he is not being heard? I told him I would have his back as long as he has been honest, and respectful. He knows no matter what the consequences, to always speak the truth.

We need to do right by all children. They need to have a safe space to grow, to evolve, and to be able to make express themselves. We should teach them about love, respect and being honest with one another. If they make a mistake, which they should, then we need to be patient with them, and make it a learning experience. They should never feel like they are alone when they are in school, or at home.

These kids are our future, and it is our responsibility as adults to show them the right path.

My Joon Joon-a small tribute

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I have begun this a thousand times, but the emotions overwhelm me and I stop. Exactly a year ago, I was at my Joon Joon’s side holding her hand as she left this life to lead an eternal one. As painful as it was to watch her leave, I knew she was going to a place where she would be reunited with her husband, and two children.

What can I say about my Joon Joon? I have had the privilege of spending my entire life with her. She was the epitome of grace and perfection. I remember her saying one time that “please make sure my eyebrows look good when I die.” She always carried herself with so much dignity, no matter what life threw at her, right up till the end. She knew how to say the right things, had immense love for her family no matter what, and was an amazing cook. Her love for her grandchildren and great grandchildren was something. She missed the ones in India and longed every day to see them. She loved her son in law so much, and her daughter, who both did so much to make her comfortable. She always told me about how she was privileged in having them in her life.

I miss her stories of her life which she used to share with so much passion. I miss just listening to her open her heart to me about the way life has changed for her. I miss watching her reactions to her TV shows where she would mutter under her breath on bad behavior. But most of all I miss being able to just pick up the phone and just listen to her sweet voice so much. That voice that used to sing to me when I was a baby, and that used to teach me about life as I grew older. I miss sharing all the things that are happening in my life now.

So here is to a woman who survived World War2 and managed to escape her home in Singapore when she was a little girl, to making a new life in India, and then restarting her life again in her late 60s in America. You have served your life to others, you have brought joy and love to so many around you without even knowing it. You have always been kind to people of all ages, and when you left us, that really showed as we buried you. The people surrounding you were of all ages. They don’t make women like you anymore.

Thank you for all the stories, the hugs, the songs, and mostly the love you have given me all my life. Thank you for giving me the privilege of holding your hand as you passed on. Thank you for giving me the privilege as I lay you on your kaffan, and saw you being prepared for your final journey. Thank you for being you my Joon Joon. I love you so much and miss you even more. This void will never be filled. So till we meet again…may you look over us everyday.

Btw, we made sure your eyebrows looked good.

Connected, yet disconnected…c’est la vie

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We get so busy with our lives that we forget what it truly means to live. We use this excuse of being so busy that we don’t have time to meet with our old friends, meet with our family or to truly live. 

I found out today that a friend passed away back in April. I was shocked on why I was just finding out. He was younger than me, and was my brothers classmate. I have basically known him almost 30 years. He leaves behind his wife, kids and parents. My heart breaks for his family, especially for his parents. I am grateful I got to see him a few years ago and he got to spend time with my family. But just like that a young life was taken.

I have always said that our life is unpredictable, and death is inevitable. But how we chose to live our life everyday does matter. I have stopped watching the news because it is so depressing, I also keep toxic people at bay, but I do eat that ice cream when I want. But I am also working on getting healthier for myself so I can live my life better. I am trying to consciously do things that make me happy, though I have days that are just too hard to handle. I will still get up, wear that smile and be thankful to be able to see another sunrise. 

So my dear friend…I hope you are at peace wherever you are. I hope and pray your family finds solace in all the good memories. And I hope we take this as a lesson on how short this life truly is. 


Till we meet again…..

Still a long way to go….

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So in my previous post I touched upon why I never took pictures with my son. Growing up I was an extremely active person and somewhere in my 30’s I started slacking off. I used to run track, row, climb trees, and pretty much do anything that would make me perspire. I loved the heat of South India, and I am sure it loved me back.

In my 30’s I went through a lot- loss of a baby, loss of a job, postpartum depression, and weight issues. So as I was on this amazing emotional roller-coaster, my dress size was creeping up. I did nothing to help with my weight issues, which was affecting my health. From being active to getting breathless while climbing one flight of steps was not acceptable anymore. I could not play in the park much with my son, and have missed out on some precious time with him. I had to make a change quick for no one but myself. But how? The only way for this to work was for me to kick my own ass to get moving.

At the start of 2015, I felt different. I thought to myself, okay this has to be the year. I needed to stop making excuses and stop feeling sorry for myself. I was at my heaviest- over 200 pounds. Yes 210 POUNDS!!!! What the hell had I been doing to my body. I know I am the only one to blame, and knew I needed to make a change quick. So I started slow-I found you tube videos on yoga, started that every morning. Did a few challenges, and the weight was slowly coming off, but I was restricted on what I could do, due to being top-heavy. Spoke with my physician, and she suggested I have a reduction. I just stared at her, as that was major surgery. She told me no matter what I did, I would never become smaller. I could not do it, I wanted to give exercise and eating healthy a shot. I kept at it for about six months and then school and life took over again. The weight was going up a little but I kept it in check at 195 pounds. Ughhh!!

Then came my emotional support late 2015. The motivation started again and I kept at it. 2016 rolled around, and the doctor suggested the same thing. This time I listened. So I had my surgery end of September 2016, which was a long surgery. I was recovering very quickly according to my surgeon. The surgery helped knock off six pounds. The surgery was mainly done to alleviate all the back pain issues I was having. So now I had to work on myself a lot harder. As soon as he gave me the all clear, I started with my yoga and threw in some meditation. Eating right was key. The toughest thing for me to give up was “sugar”, as is the issue for almost all. I still sneak in my coffee ice-cream on some days, but on most days I am more focused on eating healthy, and keeping myself hydrated. I am still working on the sleep, which apparently plays a part in weight gain/loss too.

So 2017 is here and I have stopped making excuses and feeling sorry for myself. I keep negativity away as much as I can for my mental health. So 43 pounds later, and with 40 more to go, I was finally getting somewhere. This is a very small victory for me, but it was a start. All I want is to be healthy for myself first and then my son. 

Why I never took many photographs with my son

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Sitting here and thinking back to when I had my first baby, I remember easing into motherhood with so much joy. But that joy was short-lived when I went into postpartum depression as I got laid off right after I had my son. The timing could not be any better.

Being a new mother and not knowing what the hell I was doing, and having a baby who was colicky also did not help. I was exhausted, and there were times I wanted to run away from everything. I was battling low self-esteem, depression and loneliness. The weight kept creeping on, and that brought me down even more. I never wanted to be in any photographs, but loved taking photographs of my newborn son. I took thousands of photographs during the first three to four years of his life, and still do. But I was hardly in any of them. I hated my appearance, and it did not help matters when my side of the family kept reminding me on how I need to lose the weight. They told me how I would look pretty if I lost the weight. Ugh!!! I wanted to scream at everyone. Even when I visited India, I was told by the shopkeepers that I was too fat, and they did not have anything for me. Everyone had this image that being thin makes one beautiful. A very brief background about me: I never used to be a big girl, I was into sports and was always fit. I remember being told that I was too thin and needed to put on weight. No one seemed satisfied with how I looked. I was never bothered about what people thought about me back then, so why was it bothering me now.

The weight came on after my two pregnancies in one year, sending my hormones into a tailspin. I did not care about myself as I was too busy taking care of my baby. When my son was about three or so, I was going through his baby year photographs and realized how I was not part of most of the pictures. I casually mentioned this to my mother in law, and a couple of sister in laws. They told me that when I am much older, and when my son was older too, he would probably ask me why I was never in any of his memories. They encouraged me to be in the pictures with him. That took about seven to eight months, and I finally started to feel comfortable in my skin.

Though the comments never stopped on how fat I was, but by now I had grown a thick hide. I was confident about myself, and the people kept talking but I did not care. My son is now eight, and I absolutely love being in photographs with him, making goofy faces and being silly. I know I will be able to look back on these days with a lot of happiness and pride. I am still not “thin”, but that is okay. Who said we need to be thin to feel beautiful? I love the way I look and feel now. I have never been more confident in my life, and most importantly I am the most beautiful woman to my little man. What more can I ask for.

“This will be the last time I see you….”

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Gosh!! NINETEEN YEARS….how time has passed us by and yet the memory is still so fresh. How life has changed since then and how some relationships seem to be getting worse.

My first semester at University in a new country was going just fine, and I was settling in slowly. March 16th, 1998, I had a very uneasy feeling that day, and something made me call my answering machine. My mother had left me a voice mail, and after hearing it, everything went silent around me. I do not know how I made it to my friends house, I called home immediately. My Abajaan had passed away. I broke down, and the uneasiness got worse. I was alone in a new country, no family around me. I could not mourn as I had to go to my classes. I had to learn the ways of the world without family during a loss, and that was the toughest lesson of life.

His last words to me before I left India, “This will be the last time I see you. I hope you do well in life.” Those words haunt me even today. Life is so fragile. We don’t understand it when we are young, but when I lost a friend in seventh grade I knew I could not take life for granted. Life did change for all of us after he passed away. Things have never been the same, and relationships have definitely changed among the family members. It has taken me almost twenty years to realize that family members can become strangers, and that is okay. You just have to let them go for your own peace of mind and move on with your life.

So what I have learned as I have grown in the last two decades. Spend time with those you love and with those that reciprocate that love. Delete those who don’t have the time for you, they are really not worth it. I have no regrets in my life anymore, and live each day creating memories for my son. I will do my best never to say “I wish I had visited them while they were alive” and make it a point to visit my loved ones while they are still around. So live, love and laugh….life changes in a blink of an eye.

And then there was a wedding….or something like that.

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So I don’t know how many times I have started, and re-started this particular blog. This was supposed to be the next step after the “awkward proposal”. There was someone who did not approve of this…but since I am at a stage in my life where I don’t care about what anyone thinks anymore, here goes.

After returning from India, we went back to being busy with our respective jobs. After a month or so we picked a date, actually I did. So the date I picked was a month after my birthday. I figured it would be easy to remember.

Wedding planning is the most stressful event ever, even worse when you have no one from your own family to advise and help. As much as I wanted a traditional Indian wedding with the dancing, henna, and Rukhsati, I knew that was never going to happen. He is a Catholic, and I am a Muslim, so we wanted to have something very small at a non-denominational chapel.  In order to have a Catholic wedding, one needs to go through a marriage class with the priest. Well, we went to see a priest, and had to fill out a questionnaire each and then we were questioned individually. When he asked me if I was going to baptize my child, I said I was not even sure I wanted a child. But they needed an answer and a signature, which would then go to the Archdiocese of Washington DC. Well, my answer was no I was not. At that point the “interview” was stopped and he called my fiance in, and said we could not get married in a Catholic Church, which I already knew before even going to meet this priest. So I looked at different chapels on my own, but nothing was working out.

This planning was annoying especially since I was trying to do it on my own without any help. So with the date picked, I had my mom print cards in India, and I sent out an Evite out to family & friends in the United States. Those who wanted to be there could, and those who did not, oh well. I definitely ruffled some feathers, but with no family support here, and none from the groom to be, I made the decision to get the marriage license and made an appointment for September 1st, So that September 1st morning, sitting at the courthouse, my heart broke again. It was another big event in my life, and I had no family. The price we pay when we move half way across the world. So after we said our “I do” to the judge, we then headed on our 14 hour drive to Memphis. I drove all the way because my lovely husband could not drive my car (Stick-shift). 

My gorgeous aunt had invited people over for a dinner to celebrate our marriage. My in-laws, a couple of my sister and brother in laws flew in for a day. That really made my day, but I missed the most important people in my life-my parents. There was no honeymoon as we had to head back to work. There was no “giving away” of the bride, which come to think of it, still has not happened. Maybe I should have my Indian wedding someday…so my father can formally give me away.

So now as a married couple, we start a new journey, and oh boy! no one warned me about the hidden dangers of being married….hee hee!!! 

joon joon and me

The awkward proposal

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My sincere apologies again…life has a funny way of taking over 🙂 Anyway…here is the next one…

So I arrived in India before him, because he had to work. I had gone to a store and already picked out my engagement ring because I did not want him to spend too much on a ring. So me being the completely non-traditional bride to be, picked out an eternity band instead of the usual solitaire.

He arrived in time to experience the Indian rush hour traffic. He sat quietly till we got home. I think he was a little shook up with the traffic, which was not that bad. But for a foreigner who had never left the confines of his country, this must have been quite a shock to his system. He made it clear that he would never be able to drive in India.

Well, I am going to hand over this piece to him to finish up: (disclaimer: he thinks he is funny)

HIS WORDS: “I came to India intent on conquering my first land and with my victory, bringing back a bride as my trophy.  I walked onto the tarmac at the airport to throngs of screaming fans chanting “#1 Gora ! #1 Gora !” I signed autographs and took the first selfies ever in India while I waited for Salimeh to retrieve the luggage and put it into the dickie(trunk) of the car.”

Okay that is about how far I will let him write…clearly this is funny to him.

So the deal with him coming to India was to propose for my hand in marriage. Awkward because while my dad and he were smoking a cigarette, he quickly asked my dad, and my dad said yes. Of course, he forgot to ask my mother who is just as important to me, not sure why he bypassed the CEO of the house. Then he and I went for a late night coffee and he was fumbling. I asked him if he was going to propose or not, and he finally got down on one knee and asked me.

I know, I’m boring, but I hate surprises, hence we did the shopping together, and I could not understand what he was waiting for. Like I mentioned, I was the non-traditional bride to be.

Anyway, formalities were complete. So in a day mom organized a small dinner for us. Only in India, can this be done so quick. We had close family and friends with us, but I missed having my school and college friends with me. The stay in India was too short, and I knew the next time I would visit, I would be a married woman. Oh boy, marriage and me!!! Let’s see what happens….

Oh, and I obviously said yes.

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Future addition to our family…The Gora
Family after my engagement

On to 2017….

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So at the end of 2015 something happened to me. I have no idea what, but I felt a change come over me. I cannot explain how, why, or when, but it was for the good. In my past blogs I wrote a little about the lows in my life, and how it affected me very deeply. This new, strange feeling was like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. Why it happened, I have no clue. But I had never felt so good about myself, the way I looked, or even what I said. I basically did not give a shit anymore. I fell in love with someone so special who could make or break me and it was none other than me.

Took me long enough to realize that I was the only one who could fix me, and no one else could. There are people who thrive on others misery, then there are your well wishers who always have your back no matter what. But the only one person that mattered was myself. “I” had to get out of this rut and fix myself and no one else could do this for me. Even my closest ones never really knew what I was going through and how I almost did not make it.

But as I sit here with 2016 winding down, all I can say is WOW! what a fantastic 2016 it has been. I have enjoyed every single moment of it. Making new friends, making more memories with my son, traveling, meeting old friends, got a new job and even had major reconstructive surgery. I survived 2016, well another couple of hours to go.

But I do want to give some credit to one person. Sometime during 2015, I reconnected with someone I had not heard from in 20 some years. This person became a confidante. I could talk about my worries, my fears and was never judged by this person. On one such occasion as I was chatting with this person, I penned my first blog and it felt good. Then I was on a roll, and started on my life story which was so therapeutic. Not being a writer, and being able to pen everything from my heart helped me tremendously. I was also introduced to yoga, meditation and something called the Isha Kriya. I was happy, and I had full control of my emotions again. I was comfortable discussing anything and everything with this person. I wish everyone finds one such person in their life. 

So as I get ready to welcome 2017, I am hoping for a much more positive year, a fun year and most of all a fulfilling year. So wishing you all an amazing 2017 and may we all have more adventures, volunteer more, and be kind to one another.