I am a Loser

Posted on by americabydefault

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.

Connected, yet disconnected…c’est la vie

Posted on by americabydefault

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…..

September 21st

Posted on by americabydefault

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 Career (America By Default)

Posted on by americabydefault

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

Posted on by americabydefault

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

Posted on by americabydefault

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….

SASHA….I killed her.

Posted on by americabydefault

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.

The view I climbed to see
Infamous view

 

one day old

Late 80’s/Early 90’s: Part 2 End of school life

Posted on by americabydefault

So the early 90’s and pretty much the rest of the decade was a mixed bag of emotions. The nightmares were back in full force, my gender played against me, my first kiss 😊  and then I had to move cities again…How did I survive?

The Nightmares:

Waking up screaming for my mother became a very common thing in the early 90’s with me. The suppressed memories from my early childhood days, revived the worst kind of nightmares, right around when I was trying to figure out my way in this world. I needed a support system more than ever. There was no one to turn to, no one to talk to about my fears, and no one to advice me at all. The only way I could control these fears, was by immersing myself completely in my sports, music and friends. But even my closest of friends had no clue about what I was going through, as I never wanted to burden anyone.

School: Old and New

There was so much going on at school. We had a school strike-I don’t remember exactly why, but it was when I was fearless and defied the seniors who stormed into our class while we had a test.

I moved to a new school (9th & 10th grade), and made more new friends, who were just as fun as the old lot. Cake fights, crazy dandiya nights, movies, were just some of the fun things we did at this new school. At the new school, there was a little boy, who would end up being a huge motivating force in my present life.  I would still go back to Asan to see my old classmates, and that is when I noticed him. What was his name? He was my neighbor! I used to see him leave for school every morning, and return in the evening. I don’t remember how we started talking, but when we did and I realized we both were mental cases, equally possessive, and both crazy about each other. When I did move back to my old school, he was one year my senior. He was the first one I slow danced with, and the first boy I kissed. I remember one occasion, where he had to be locked in his classroom because he was mad at me, probably something that I did to annoy him. I won’t go into any more detail about him, as my parents read this too 😉. But he introduced me to one of my favorite genres of music and I absolutely love him for that. He did eventually ask me to marry him but I couldn’t, because I loved his parents a lot, and I knew exactly what his mom wanted for him, so I had to let go.

My final year of school was lovely-our class got suspended for a week, because someone decided to set off fire crackers in the closet of our classroom. How and who did it, I still have no clue. But it was in the middle of our accounting class, and boy was the professor pissed off. The principal accused me, saying since I come early to school to practice, it could have been me. What a crazy year, and I loved every bit of it. I won two regattas, got the best outgoing sportswoman of the year and passed my 12th grade.

I had some very close friends by the time I finished school. One silly one lived around the block, and his home was my second home. So I had parents away from my own, who loved and adored me. I also learnt how to drive-the Ambassador was my favorite. I used to drive down Mount Road extremely fast-some of my friends still shudder at those memories. There were a lot of hospital visits, as my grandparents were in and out of them. My two sweethearts would sometimes bring food to the hospital, and keep me company. I hated the smell of hospitals. On my last day of school, my grandpa was shocked that I was done. He had no clue as to which grade I was in. So he said the next thing was for me to get married. I didn’t know how to react and just said no, I wanted to study.

We graduated high school, and were ready for the crazy world of college. I thought I would continue my studies in Madras, but other plans were being made. I got into the Hotel Management program, and even secured a scholarship to go to Switzerland for a month, but I was informed I couldn’t because I was a girl. I didn’t know that my gender would play against me. That was not how I was raised. What a low blow to my self-esteem.

So this was the end of my time in Madras, before I left back for my hometown. Uncertain of what I was going to do, as I wanted to do my management, but settled for Arts, and I knew that I was wasting my time doing it. I left heartbroken, and with a lot of pain. I felt at that time that I was unwanted, and didn’t want to leave my amazing friends behind. They had been my everything for the last eight years, and the one who had taken my heart, how was life going to be without him. More adventure awaited me, as I prepared for my new life with my parents. Gosh I had missed them so much and was looking forward to living with them again, but I was going to miss living with my grandparents too.

America by Default

Posted on by americabydefault

First of all, I am not a writer, I just suffer from verbal diarrhea.

The reason for my title is actually quite simple. It is not related to the economy or anything like that. I never had America in my life plan. There was no intention to ever move here. However, “life happened”, it became my home and after almost 20 years of being here, I do still call it home, but there is something that is nagging at me. Something I need to figure out. So let’s start this story from as far back as I can remember.

A brief history: I was born in India to two amazing soulmates. I was their “love child”. They were married, but even then, there was drama. My paternal grandparents were upset their son was marrying a Sunni woman…blah, blah, blah! But after I was born they were more accepting. My mother was on the darker side so she had to deal with racism in the family, and so did my brother. I was raised to be very independent, honest, respectful and empathetic.

I am going to write this in different parts and it may be haphazard. I make no apologies for that as this is straight from my heart.

This is my therapy 😉

Coming up next: Late 80’s/Early 90’s