My Work Ethic

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I do apologize for absconding for a while. I was and am tied up in recovery from my surgery.

I was sitting here pondering about why so many people complain about their work so much, and also those who feel it is beneath them to take up certain jobs even though they are unemployed. I think it all boils down to attitude.

At an early age my brother and I were taught the value for money because we hardly had any. So we learnt not to ask for many things. We were content with what we had, and as adults still are. As a teenager my paternal grandfather Abajaan, started a small business (minus his other major ones) at the back of the house. This was when I was staying with them. We made crayons, canvas paper…etc and I was tasked with wrapping the crayons with paper and then boxing them. I enjoyed what I did and got paid 100 rupees a month($1.47). I also tried to market the product, but not much as I was still in school. Besides this he also sold milk from his farm to local restaurants. I would go with the driver in the evening to these restaurants and help in delivery. I managed all this while being active in sports and school work. I enjoyed it very much. So when I moved to the United States no work was beneath me, because my foundation had been laid.

I got my first paying job with the university and then went on to work with a rental car company. Were there days where i complained? Absolutely, but it was always towards something I felt was not right, not toward the job I was doing. I loved every minute of working and was always told I was reliable. After working for so many years I got  laid off. It was heart wrenching for me. I had just given birth when I lost my job and the combination almost proved deadly. And to make matters worse the market crash did not help at all where I lost most of my savings.

So after being unemployed for almost eight years, I am working again (part-time) and absolutely love what I do. So to those that complain constantly all I have to say is “be grateful”. There are plenty of people struggling everyday to survive this brutal world. Be grateful for being able to afford to buy the things you want, because I know what it is like to not have anything. I have always been grateful all my life for what I had and did not have. It put things into perspective where life was concerned and I hope I can instill a little bit of that in my son. I am extremely grateful to my mother and father for teaching me that no work is beneath me . If my grandpa could carry sacks of coal on his back even though he came from an affluent family, then I can work any where.

September 21st

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Every year as September 21st rolls around, I find myself picturing what my kid would have looked like now. She would have been eight on the 21st.

I lost Sasha due to a miscarriage while I was visiting my parents back in India. It was my first pregnancy, and this devastated me as I was older when I got pregnant. As I sit here with a lump in my throat, which is a common occurrence around this time, I often wonder what kind of child my Sasha would have been. She would have been eight tomorrow, celebrating along with her great-grandfathers birthday.

My emotions regarding her have always been extremely private. I mourned for her alone, and I find myself crying often around this time by myself. Even though I never got to see her at all, I have this image of her-a spunky little fire-cracker. But then again, I currently have a spunky little fire-cracker of my own now. I cannot pen exactly what I feel, but anyone that has suffered a miscarriage would probably understand.

Some people find it strange that I buy a cupcake in her memory every 21st September, and they don’t understand why I don’t just move on. I have moved on, but not according to the way society thinks I should. I keep her memory alive, because the sound of that heartbeat is a life that was very dear to me. I love that I can celebrate this with my son, and he knows that Sasha was the big sister he would never have. And he also knows that she probably protected him, when I almost lost him too.

So to my little Sasha: as you celebrate your eight birthday with your great grandpa, I wanted to let you know that we love you and miss you. So till we meet…

Happy Birthday my fire-cracker!

Your Mommy.

 

The #1 Gora’s entry…and a tragedy

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So my husband is a little nervous about this particular draft, not sure why. Anyway, here goes….

So this assistant manager was moved to my office, and he barely smiled. He was what we would call a Khadoos (grumpy). I did not like him at all and thought he could at least smile once in a way. I did not get his humor. Why was it funny to laugh at the stupidest things? Maybe I was the grumpy one, who knows.

I was moved to another office and did not have to work with him anymore, yay!! But one evening I ended up climbing a curb and damaging one of my tires by the park. It was almost dark, and who do I decide to call for help-that same grumpy manager as he lived down the street. I needed someone to have their headlights on, so I could change my own tire, but he being a gentleman changed my tire. He then asked why I was stalking him? I just stared at him in disbelief and asked why the hell would I want to do that? Like I mentioned before, he has a weird sense of humor. I did not find that funny. I don’t remember how we decided to go for a movie one day, but I guess that was the start of a very interesting chapter. He was not my type, which was tall, dark and had to wear glasses, in fact he was short, white and too chikna.

We were working one morning when one of the employees came running in and said the tower fell. I looked at her and asked her what tower she was talking about. She was scared. We quickly turned on the radio in the car, the second tower was hit. What the hell had just happened? I was just there exactly a week ago and now this. I had all these thoughts running in my head-how did they not see the tower? why were they flying so low? was this an accident? I heard a scream from the office, the Pentagon was hit. We worked in the DC Metro area. Were we under attack? There was so much confusion. We continued to work as we had people waiting. Even though everyone was concerned we had a job to get done. One comment that I heard from one of the managers was “damn Muslims and their jihad”. I was completely taken aback. The next nine hours was chaos as the flood of people from D.C. came through our area as we were only 3 miles from the DC line.

We survived the 9/11 attacks, only to be in the cross-hairs of the Beltway Sniper in 2002. A lot of those shootings were extremely close to where we worked and places we visited frequently. So it was an extremely tense time, but those managers words still ring in my ears even today. What was happening to the world that I loved? So many unanswered questions. But among all this chaos happening in the world, I was beginning to accept this khadoos as mine.

After about three years, he introduced me to his family. I was extremely overwhelmed as it was a large family, and I hadn’t really been around family in years. They were sweet and extremely welcoming. I had crawled into this shell and generally did not let people into my life that easily, so I probably came off as shy or rude. There were lots of kids around and I didn’t do well with so many children at all, I still don’t. He and I talked about getting married, but I informed him that he had to speak with my parents first. For that he would have to travel overseas to my home in India. He had never left the United States, so this was going to be fun. Nothing like travelling to India on a first overseas trip. He had no idea what awaited him. All I told him was to come with no preconceived notions and an extremely open mind. The journey had begun….

The Monster….

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In my second blog, I had ended it with the return of my suppressed memories. I was a little hesitant to write about it, not because I am scared but because it was an extremely personal thing I had been dealing with for over 35 years of my life.

As children we imagine different kinds of monsters that we learn through fairy-tales, movies..etc, but sometimes the innocent are exposed to the real kind too. For those closest to me, they know how I feel about people that hurt children. Personally, there should be no second chances, because they can never be rehabilitated. Either lock them up forever or execute them-yes I am very extreme in my views when it concerns a child.

Back in the day teaching children to come forward if something happened to them was never really heard of. And even if the child approached their parents, most parents would not know what to do, or they would let it be, thinking the child was making up stories. In my case I never told anyone, nor did anyone know. This was my viewpoint on how things were in India while I was growing up, and from what I have heard things are changing.

Most pedophiles are almost always family members or family friends of the child, so that is why most cases are never reported. I started teaching my child when he was four years old about his personal space, and if anyone violated that space of his he needed to let me know. I informed him that it didn’t matter who it was, and that he needed to know I was there for him no matter what. I felt sick to my stomach having to tell my son all this, because his job was to be a child and not worry about all this.

I had no one to tell me about the dangers of such family members, friends or strangers. I was a happy child for the most part, and remember that most of my childhood was spent in playing and having fun with my brother and our friends. After I turned sixteen, I woke up screaming one night, the monster in my dreams was back. All my suppressed memories came flooding back to me. I remember being nine and knew that I had to stay away from that monster, but would sometimes get trapped and did not know where to go, or whom to tell. I was finally getting old enough to know that whatever was happening was not right. My parents had no clue, actually no one did. This person soon left the country and was helped by my family in his travels.

I could smell the alcohol even if he was not present, I started becoming more angry at things and would fight with my parents as I got older. The nightmares kept me awake even though he did not live in the same country, I kept thinking back to when I was very little around five through nine. I cringe at the thought of what happened to me, only to find out years later, I was not his only victim. It did not matter if you were a little boy or girl, he had no preference. I do thank god I was never raped, but what happened scarred me enough for life. I was once asked by a relative when I was in my twenties, why things were always happening to me. It was like I was being blamed for what happened as a child. Yes, my problem was I was too trusting of people, and I learnt how not to ever trust anyone. I eventually told mom in a fit of anger, because she never understood why I would curse this person out. She just broke down and cried. I cannot remember if I told my father.

Eventually, I left India and started my life away, and he was in the neighboring country. On one of my trips home a few years ago, I stayed in India for three months, and I learnt he was sent back to India too. He was living in the same city, and had moved back to the same house. I had moved on, but all those memories came back in an instance, but this time I was much stronger. I had my son with me, and I informed my parents that my son was not setting foot in that house. I had all this pent up anger and I wanted him to suffer so much. And even though my parents had taught me never to wish ill on anyone, no matter what they had done to you. Well, I did wish ill from that soul of my five year old self, and that nine year old self he tried to destroy. He did die a very painful death from what I heard. I did not feel anything at the news. I just remember saying “good”.

I am at such a good place in my life right now, and my job is to protect my child from any evil lurking nearby. And yes, I will be arrested if anyone ever hurts my child-no questions about it. So please keep your kids safe by educating them, and watching over them.

 

The Career (America By Default)

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So the default as some of you read in my previous post was “love”. That is what brought me to America. And I stayed on, because I knew the sacrifices that were made by my parents. I really wanted to go back home, because this was not my home (as yet).

It would also be five years before I went home to see my parents and brother. They did not make it to my graduation, actually no one did. I had a few friends and that was it. I had missed them so much. I remember being told by some people that I would never be allowed to work here, and that I would never get a work visa. Luck seemed to be in my favor, because I did get to work here, and also got my work visa in Canada without any issues. Destiny was taking shape, and I guess I was meant to move here. But I was still uneasy and was looking for any opportunity to go back home. The vacation back home was a much needed one. Things had changed in India, and I actually got a culture shock when I went home. Everything was much more western since I had left, even though I had grown up in a city. But it was home and I was savoring every minute of it. But soon it was time to go back to work-gosh I had grown up and had a job now. Mom and Dad were proud that I was managing on my own, but I had never let on about how I felt internally. 

Career:

So I said goodbye to West Virginia, and moved to the Washington D.C. area. I worked 60+ hours a week, so yeah you could call me a workaholic. I actually loved my job because I got to meet people from different walks of life. The place I worked at was a good ol’ boys club and if you played the game right, you advanced. Well, I played by my set of rules, so you could say I did not advance very far. This was a completely new environment for me, new life skills were being learnt. I was even told since I did not go to enough happy hours I would never get promoted. I was okay with that because my self-respect was intact and I did not need to “advance” my career by forgetting my morals and values. I had cut off contact with all my friends and I did not have any idea what was happening in their lives(no FB as yet). When I got moved to another office, I was told we were getting this new Assistant Manager and I had heard he was very serious. So on one of my runs to his office before he moved to our location, I asked who this person was and he stood up from behind the desk, and I was hoping it would not be this person. Well it was, and soon began another chapter in my life of a love-hate relationship.

photographs: some of my best friends from high school in India, and the assistant manager who made an interesting entry at a not-so interesting time in my life. 

 

America By Default pt. 2

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Two and a half months after being settled in my University by my best friend and her hubby, I got the worst news ever that changed our world. My Abajaan (grandpa) had passed away and his words still rang in my ears…it was the last goodbye. My problem of trusting everyone was about to be tested. I left my backpack at a friends dorm room and went to an acquaintance’s home to call my mother and him. I was distraught and was not thinking right. I stayed there till I calmed down, and then got my bags and walked home in a daze.

Like I said my trust was about to be tested. In my time of grief, this person who lived in the dorms decided to go through my bag while I was making calls and took my credit card number. When I got the bill I was shocked-he had called a sex line with my credit card. I did my research on where the call originated from-it was his room. I confronted him, he denied it. I was so angry, and I decided to file a police report against him. They arrested him while he was asleep. He got out and then a few weeks later they arrested him again. So he did what most guys would do…smear my name among the Muslim students. He wanted me dead. I had some angels watching over me at the school. You all know who you are. I did not care and knew that eventually they too will find out who he really is. Took a year or so, but I got my apologies from the Muslim Students. I distanced myself from a lot of people and associated myself with the Indian students, trusted no one, except a few.

During the second year, he decided to visit. Something was different…with me, or him-I did not know. This caused a friction between my best friend and me and we stopped talking for a few years. When he left I knew it was over. I was heart-broken but learnt two valuable lessons-trust no one and love is an over-rated word. He then emailed me to let me know it was and was because of religion. Wish he had the balls to say that to my face. So why was I still in America? Because my parents had spent money to send me here and I was not going to let a guy make me disrespect them in any way. Yes, I came here because of him, he was the default in my life, but probably ended being a blessing too because it led to other adventures.

University definitely was an eye opener-a little sweet and bitter. I had no family, and no one to advise me on what I needed to do. I was trying to make sure I was getting the grades, while trying to deal with two different losses. No one told me life would be this ridiculous. So I graduated, managed to get a job too, much to my surprise. Moved to another state by myself and started a new chapter in my life-my career.

 

Goodbye India….America by Default pt. 1

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I started writing this to log my story on how I came to live in America. Somewhere between enjoying the summer vacation with my son and life I am lagging behind…and no I am not apologizing for it. So let me finish up and try and understand why I am here, or at least attempt to understand.

As the final year of college was winding down I had no clue what I wanted to do. Even though I had managed to bag a couple of job offers with two big companies, my heart was working against me. I don’t remember much about him because it was so long ago. All I knew was that I wanted to marry him. We were opposites-me the extrovert, him the introvert, I loved dancing, he did not..etc. Yet there was this mutual respect and understanding. He decided to do his MBA, and I decided to apply for my hotel management again, but this time in Cyprus. I got into College in Cyprus and left India, not knowing this was it.

Cyprus was beautiful, the people were great and the college was fun. My stay in Cyprus was short and I even managed to survive an earthquake. During one of our conversations he said he was going to migrate to Canada, and that I should consider the USA to finish my studies. He said he would finish his MBA and then we both would move to Canada, and settle down. Again, I didn’t think much of it and applied to a few universities. I got into all of them, but chose West Virginia University because I had family there, who ended up moving right before I got there.

Now everyone told me that I would never get a US visa and personally I really didn’t care if I did or not. The United States was never in my life plan and after the brief interview at the embassy he told me to come back and collect my visa. This was my final goodbye to my Abajaan(grandpa) who was in hospital. His last words still ring in my ear, “I’m never going to see you again”, and it was so true.

Said my final goodbyes to my family, friends and my country and left not knowing where my life was heading. When I left that airport and gave my best friend a hug it was like part of me got left behind with my loved ones. My parents faces and my best friends face,  along with my Abajaan’s words are still so fresh in my memory. I got to Cyprus, packed my things, said goodbye to him and moved to a new continent.

And this was the start of a new chapter or the worst decision ever in my life….

The silent killer

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When I was a little girl, I always wondered why people were sad. I always remember my childhood as a happy one. Mom and dad told me that I always smiled and I still do, its instinctive with me, even when I am feeling down and out. But soon I had forgotten how to smile.

People assume that because you smile, all must be well and good with you. But behind that smile the silent killer was always waiting and watching me. It just wanted to take me to this awful place. I managed to keep it at bay for a long time, until I lost my first baby. Even then, I did my best to keep it away, because another life was dependent on me. He arrived, then I lost my job, and for a while it was fine, till one day something changed. I cannot explain what it was, but it got me.

I wish I could describe the feeling, but it is something I would never wish on my worst enemy. The days turned into months and months into years. The darkness was consuming me very slowly and paving a path of destruction. To wake up in a fog like state, and to still continue the day because there was a little boy who looked up to his mommy was the toughest thing for me. People who have been through this will understand, others will use this opportunity to put you down. I was alone in this battle, and did not see a way out or that “light” in the tunnel. It was dark, very dark. It was me against everyone else, but the worst part was it was me against me. The closest people to me did not understand. I was told I needed to get a grip on myself and snap out of it, like I really wanted to be in that state. It was winning and I was losing, and this inner battle continued to drain me daily. My mind told me no one cared, so I proceeded to almost do the most foolish thing ever, I wanted to end it all. I always thought it was cowardly to take ones life, but I do not judge anymore, because when you are completely overwhelmed and beaten, ending ones life is the solution. I knew I was at my lowest point of my life and I had to get out of it.

I could not do it because I have always been competitive in my life and I was not about to lose to this darkness. I was not about to give the satisfaction to those who wanted to see me lose. I spoke to two of my closest friends, and then to an acquaintance I had last seen over two decades ago. These three people “listened” and did not judge me. That made a difference. A lot of tears were shed and were wiped by my toddler who was always there too. I felt like the worst mother for allowing my son to see me like this, and felt I never did enough for him. But he is an amazing little boy and I could not be more proud of him. I am not ashamed of what I went through and I talk openly about it, much to the dismay of some people. So if you want to judge me, then I will have no choice but to distance myself from your toxic nature.

If I can make a difference in someones life, that would mean so much to me. So if you feel beaten, and don’t see a way out, please reach out to your loved ones or a professional. Life is not easy, and we all need to be kind to one another. We all deserve to be happy no matter what life throws at us, as too many lives have been lost already.

Now I wake up every morning and am thankful for the day. Do I have cloudy days, absolutely-we all do. I just keep at my yoga, my music and focus on myself more. Yes I am a mother, but my health and well being come first, because without it I am useless to my son. So yes I have become selfish and thick skinned but for good reason, but life is good.

 

The women in my life: A small tribute

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Growing up we all are influenced by certain people in our lives who leave their mark. I come from a line of some extremely strong women and love them with all my heart.

The first of course is the one who brought me into this world (with a little help from my dad). What can I say about her? Growing up I remember this spunky woman who loved life, and was always ready for any adventure. She had an amazing childhood from what I recall. She would climb rocks, mountains, ride bikes, and was a fashionista. She was one of the first women to ride a JAVA in Bangalore. She was also trained under Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary up in the mountains of North India.

I was lucky to have her as my mother. She was selfless, and was always ready to help others, even if it meant getting hurt by them. She instilled in us certain values and morals which my brother and I have never forgotten. In midst of all their struggles, they made sure we were always loved. She has the most forgiving heart-something I don’t have. She has always been popular among her friends and the younger generation too. When I look at her now, I see someone who is still strong, who still gets up every morning, puts her make-up on and is ready to face a new day despite being slapped in the face by life. And the best part is being told that I am just like my mother. All the sacrifices she has made has not gone unnoticed by me and I hope that life treats her kindly always. 

The second most important person: My JOON JOON. One of the sweetest voices and faces that has forever been imprinted is that of my grandmother. My first encounter with her was not long after I was born. She would sing to me to put me to sleep, and that song is still very precious to me. You want strong, then you have to meet my grandmother. She is one tough woman. When she was a little girl they had to leave their home in Singapore during World War II because the Japanese were bombing them. They got to flee in a small Chinese fishing boat to India and almost did not make it because the Chinese chef wanted them gone. But I got lucky and she got to be my grandmother. As a little girl I used to look forward to my visits to see her and they were some of the best vacations. Then I got to go live with her when I was 11 and stayed till I became an adult.She has been through so much, and still continues to go through a lot, but never complains. Her faith and strong will is what keeps her going, along with the countless well wishers from around the world. For those that don’t know-I have her up on a pedestal as people like her and the other women in my life come around once in a lifetime. I am lucky and fortunate that she is still driving distance from me, even if it is only a 14 hour drive.

My aunt or rather my big sister as there is only an eight year difference between us is the third influential woman. Since I was little we got to spend a lot of time together. Being in the same school helped as she always looked out for me till I was there. We also share a love for food especially the street food of India. When she got married at 18 and went away to another country it was very different when I moved to Madras. But as luck would have it I moved to the US (by default) and she was back in my life. My holidays were spent with her and the kids and luck shone on us and my grandmother moved here too. I had both of them back in my life. Something about my aunt you should know that apart from being a strong woman, she is extremely giving and welcoming. So no matter who you are she will welcome you with open arms and make you feel comfortable which some people tend to take advantage of because we women don’t know how to say “no”. She currently is a caregiver to her mother and mother-in-law and I don’t know how she does it-not many people can do what she does, not even me. I love her and the other ladies to the moon and back.

Finally but not least, my sexy grand-aunt Lily who is no longer with us, but is always with us, if you know what I mean. She was one of the first people who came to see me after I was born. My childhood memories of spending time with her were some of the fondest. She had this aura about her which words cannot explain. She was popular with the very young because of her non-judgmental ways. We forged a connection when I was very little and it lasted till she passed away. I can still hear her sweet laugh sometimes and it brings a smile to my face. I was very fortunate to be able to visit her when she came to my part of the world. It was only an 8 hour drive, but worth it. Her loss is still felt tremendously even today.

So these four women have influenced my life tremendously. I am what I am because of my strong connections with all of them. They are the most selfless, loving, and caring individuals I have ever met and will ever meet. To me if there ever was a God, its in these women. And another thing they have in common-they are phenomenal cooks.

I love them so very much and cannot imagine my world without them.

From Kemungundi to Kodaikanal

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I’ve been slacking with completing my blogs. I apologize, life kinda took over for a bit. But let us get on with college life.

College was getting more interesting in the second year now that I had my group of established friends. I was happier being back home even with the occasional outbursts between my parents and me. My brother and I still fought like we when we were kids, but the love was very much there. Mom was busy with her real estate work and I would occasionally go and help her out after college.

Sometime during our second year there was a trekking trip to Kemungundi. I used to go there with my grandfather and the family. I don’t think we ever trekked though. We got there late evening and quite a few of us were crammed into a room. Freezing, we huddled together and dozed off. I woke up to a few huge bugs dead near me which freaked me out, and I think this is when my aversion for the creepy crawlies begun.

We did our first trek that morning and it sucked. We ended up in a leech infested area, and I was one of the lucky ones not to get any on myself, except for when I was outside the room. Z-point was beautiful, and the climb up the mountain was a lot of fun. That evening the girls thought it would be fun to lock me out of the room and left me standing in the rain with the darn leeches. I was going bat crazy when they finally opened the door and had arranged candy with candles and sang “Happy Birthday” to me. It was one of the best birthdays in a long time. The next day I chickened out and left the camp in the morning as I didn’t think I would last 5 more days. Luckily I was not the only one who wanted to leave 🙂 The other trek that I thoroughly enjoyed was at Bannerghatta National Park because they served the best bisi bele bath(breakfast food) there, and it was also another spot my grandpa would take us to get behind the scene encounters with the animals.

Our final year trip was the most memorable one of our college life, at least it was for me. We went to Kodaikanal-a small town in the hills. Again quite a few of us were put up in a room which we did not mind. There was a lot of singing, dancing and drinking (on the sly) among us crazy girls. I got to taste rum for the first time, and it was gross. We took bike rides around the lake, we posed and took a lot of pictures. It was pure fun and we were enjoying our last year together, not knowing which direction our lives were going to take us.

From Kodai we went to Madurai. What a beautiful temple we got to visit The Meenakshi Temple-I highly recommend a visit if in the area. There is a sign that says “Non-Hindus not permitted beyond this point”, that is the area of the idols. I consider myself an Indian and this was the first time I realized I was different and it hurt. I had always been to temples, churches, & mosques, and found them to be peaceful so when I couldn’t go beyond a point I was hurt. The drama that followed was interesting and scary. One of the girls decided to tell the priest that I had entered to do Darshan(offer prayers) and apparently they came looking for me. Some other girls got me out of there and we went into the saree shops. Till date I have no idea who the snitch was and am still disgusted by that behavior.

Getting back to Bangalore after the trip left us wanting more getaways, but it was back to reality. On the personal front, things were getting interesting between him and me, and I knew he was who I wanted to spend my life with, but I had known him only a few months. Let’s see where this takes us……

Treasured moments