Connected, yet disconnected…c’est la vie

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…..

The Monster….

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.

 

America By Default pt. 2

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.

 

SASHA….I killed her.

I still hear her beating heart at times. She would have been 8 in six months.

When I was a teenager, I always knew for some reason that my first baby would be named Sasha. Why that name? I have absolutely no clue. But that was to be their name-boy or girl. Well, marriage was far from my mind when I was younger, as I had so much more to do with my life. I did what was needed-school, college, job and then finally in my thirties I decided to get married. Even that almost did not happen, but then again who said you need to be married to have a baby.

On my way to India in January 2008, I knew I was pregnant. I did not tell anyone. I happened to be in Bombay, when my aunt looked at me and asked if I was pregnant. I didn’t think it was that obvious, since it was only the first month. Well me being in a doctors home, I was given a pregnancy test and lo and behold I was. I was happy and scared as I was traveling. Something just did not feel right. Mentally, I was very stressed and would fight with my parents. I didn’t know I had so much anger and rage. Blame it on hormones, environment or whatever, but this should have been the most joyous moment of my life and I felt uneasy.

From Bombay we went to Delhi, and then back to Bangalore. My husband was arriving and we were to head out to Madras via road or did we fly I cannot remember. Everyone was happy with the news, I was too but not all the time. We drove to Pondicherry, and that was a long drive. We stopped at some fort by the beach, and saw that they had just found a woman who had drowned. What a horrible sight, and what was worse they just dumped her body in the trunk of the car and shut the trunk lid. We moved on and I decided to climb a wall to get sight of the view. Climbing down I had help and then decided to jump. My mom told me not to but it was too late. That night the inevitable happened I started bleeding and had to wait all night to get to the doctor the next day. OMG, her heart was beating, weak, but beating. I cried and asked for my husband to come in, but India has some weird rules and he could not hear the heartbeat. I cried and pleaded as I knew this was the only time I would hear that heart but they could not care less.

My husband had to leave on the day I had my ultrasound in Bangalore. The treatment of women who are about to lose their baby is horrendous in India. The lack of empathy and emotion really bothered me, like this life did not matter.They did the ultrasound and I was told “its dead”. I lay there motionless and without any emotion. Came out to a room full of people, looked at my mom and said the same thing-its dead. I was given the abortion pills and instructions. I just wanted someone to hold me, and I was alone, like I always was. My baby was no more, and my heart was broken never ever to be the same again. I was not going to be the same. My bitterness increased to a new level. I still had my smile, but no one knew the pain I was going through and I decided to shut the world out of my life.

I told my parents to leave me alone in the apartment. I did not want anyone around me and needed my privacy while I grieved for someone I had never met and was never going to meet. Just the sound of her heartbeat stayed with me and played in my head. I cried every day till I left. My parents cried, my brother cried, all for a little soul we had not met. All I thought about was that I had killed my baby, and that ate at me and still does to this day. There are days I still hear her heartbeat and cry and that will stay with me till I die. I got pregnant again and thought this time around I would be careful till I decided to lift my husbands niece so she could wash her hands. And I woke up hysterical and bleeding and just thought to myself I cannot go through this again. This time around he was a strong one, a fighter and had his sister protecting him. My miracle baby. I finally became a mother.

Every year my son and I celebrate Sasha’s birthday on September 21st, the day of my grandfathers birthday too. He knows that she was his big sister who watched over him and all I know is that I am the one who killed her.