I am a Loser

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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.

The #1 Gora’s entry…and a tragedy

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Monster….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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.

 

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.