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.

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

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 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. 

 

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.