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.

 

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

LEMON TARTS, AFTERNOON DISCO….

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“Afternoon Discotheque!!” Bunking college once every few weeks was common among a few of us. We would sneak down to our favorite road-Brigades and head to 5th Avenue to the afternoon disco. Yes we called it “disco” back in the 90’s too. And we were not the only ones who were bunking college. Getting there early was key so we did not have to pay. That is where I got to meet one of the “players” of Bangalore. He was a fabulous dancer, very charming and everyone knew him. He and I hit it off well because I loved dancing too. The next couple of years he and I would go out dancing whenever we could. And the best part of our relationship, it was just about dancing. We would sometimes dance whenever we got together as it was fun.

We girls knew how to have fun and we did not need alcohol or drugs to have the kind of masti(fun) we had. We were the loudest on the Bangalore streets, sometimes teasing the men right back. We were fearless because we had each others backs. We never cared about the stares we received we just knew this was the life.We all came from different backgrounds and what connected us was our no nonsense attitude, and FOOD. Sharing each others food was a very typical thing in India, and I miss that here. Our little joys in life were lemon tarts from Sweet Chariot, Hot Chocolate Fudge(HCF) from Corner House, and Idlis and filter coffee from Brahmins.  If you ever visit Bangalore these places are a must, including some other ones-they are part of old Bangalore. 

College was getting more interesting. Our Psychology professor was a nun, and she was so much fun. My favorite was Abnormal psych.-we delved into the madness of the mind. We also got to bring our friends in for psychology experiments. These experiments were fun. And then in Literature it was the Metaphysicals…do you see a pattern here? I was not a fan of Linguistics, even though our teacher was very sweet. My two favorite poems were The Flea by John Donne and Sonnet 116 by Shakespeare.

None of us had boyfriends…at least I don’t think we did. We didn’t need boys in our lives just as yet I guess. One of my closest friends used to talk to us about her cousin and how he was this perfect son. He sounded perfect to me even though I had never met him, as yet. Then on Valentine’s day my world was about to change completely. I get a call from her asking me if I wanted to come to dinner with her and her cousin who was visiting. I love “Indian” Chinese food and there was never formality where food was concerned. They picked me up, it was dark and I couldn’t really see his face. Then he sat in front of me at the restaurant, and my heart raced. Oh my god…he was the one.

 

COLLEGE!! OH BOY!

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Okay, after a couple of detours, lets get back on track. Let’s get on with how I ended up in America “by default”.

I walked through those college gates with the largest chip on my shoulder. I did not want to be there. After my mother dropped me off I took a deep breath, held my head up high like a complete snob and walked in confidently. I had no idea what to expect. Was I going to be ragged? Was I going to get into a fight on my first day? It actually turned out to be quite a boring first day … just like the next few months. I’m pretty sure the girls thought I was rude and stuck-up. It worked in my favor because I was not there to make friends. I was never ragged by the seniors. I remember being in the nurses office often because I would faint constantly. I still do. I have no idea why.

Even though I was not there to make friends I ended up making solid connections with some mental females. I still share a bond with them today. I don’t know what I would have done without them in my life. They are part of the reason I am still breathing today. Them and my ability to survive anything thrown at me have kept me going. By the middle of the year I had made a few friends, and my attitude about being there was changing slowly. I still missed him so much, but had to move on. I went on to win the college queen title, which was so weird, but fun to take part in.

Home life was an adjustment. I kept to myself a lot. I fought a lot with everyone. In other words, I was a complete bitch. Dancing was my stress buster and I did a lot of dancing in those three years. I met a lot of good dancers, but my two favorites were my dad and my brother. They both could keep up with me. That was awesome. I learned the bus routes and would go to my moms work after college to hang out. I did not have my own transportation as yet. I relied on my mother every morning to drop me to college. That changed toward the end of the first year when my dad bought me my first bike. It gave me my independence back and gave my dad gray hair.

My first year in college was not as exciting as the next two years. That is where all the action was. It was leading me to meeting my soulmate…at least I thought he was. It was also putting things in place for me to leave my home forever. Changes were taking place…..but for now we were a family again.

MASTI…

 

SASHA….I killed her.

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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

A slight detour…

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“But daddy he is so black”, the only time I used the color reference against my brother, and oh boy, I had never seen my father so angry. I had picked it up from one of the elders who used to comment about my mother and brother’s skin color and I did not know any better. It became an extremely important teaching moment for my parents. After that day I have not noticed skin color on anyone. In a way, I am color blind.

The jungles of Bandipur and the noisy streets of Mysore were like our second home. The adventures I had with my best friend were priceless. Having a grandfather who was a forest officer came with its perks. We got whisked off to Bandipur once or twice a month. We got to stay at the Forest Officer’s Guest House and got access into parts of the forest where no one else was allowed. We got to play with the cubs, and I got to hold the baby chimp and I received the best hug from him.

On one of these trips, we decided to go off into the forest using the elephants of course. We were quite deep in the jungle when we were charged by the wild elephants. What a rush! I am sure it was quite scary for the adults. Mom reminds me on how fearless I was, as I would walk into the jungle by myself. I look at her and say “That was a pretty stupid thing for me to do !” (considering we could hear the big cats in the night). Apparently it was not an isolated incident. Mom tells me that  I ran off at a mall in Singapore when I was three . For three hours mom did not know where I was till they announced my name. Oh boy, if something like that happened to my son, I would be hysterical. And on another occasion I decided to walk home from school when I was in Kindergarten. Only thing is home was 6.2 KM from school. I decided in my five year old brain I did not have to wait for my mother, and walked. Just as I reached the house, after hitching a ride about 2 kilometers from my home my mom, principal, aunt and grandmother pulled up. Oh Boy!!

My brother and I were blessed to have my mom and dad as our parents. They doted on us: I was Daddy’s little girl and my brother was a Mama’s boy. We had a very normal childhood and we fought like most siblings do. We climbed trees, rode our bikes, played in open construction lots in the neighborhood and roller skated on main roads. At the drive-in movies, I was the one dancing on top of the car, he was the quiet one. But when Amithab died in a movie, we both bawled…and I still do. He and I were inseperable. His girlfriends hated me ,or were scared of me. I was unapproachable to some people ( of my own choosing). I did get to find him his bride though 🙂 and I absolutely love her.

Going off to Madras, and being away from him, was very difficult for both of us. So in all, I got to spend only 14 years of my life with my brother and my parents. I still don’t know how I did it. Mom said I was a survivor and independent from the start . Even a survivor needs family as time passed is never recovered.

I hope I get to go back home for at least a year and create more memories with my family and best friend.

Kamil and me