Color Moments

Here are some significant color moments I experienced. 

1. I was told by a friend that I’m so dark. 

2. I was told by a another friend that I have Afronoid features. 

3. When shopping at a jewelry stand at a festival, the owner (causacian woman) told me that some of the stones came from Rajasthan, India. She then asked if I was South Indian. They only know that South Indians are dark. That’s all and that’s why she asked. 

4. Every time I enter an Ethiopian restaurant, the waiters always ask if I am Ethiopian, and when I say no, they say I have the facial feature, but yes, the hair is Indian. To which I just humor them and ask poinient questions like what of my face is like an Ethiopian’s. 

5. When I finally took a beach vacation, and played in the ocean for hours under the hot sun, my face tanned and made me browner.   I wondered how many weeks it’s going to take to wear off. I didn’t like that I looked darker. 

Depth of Life

Decision Points: 

Life is sometimes standing on a cliff, catching the wind, and letting my dreams speak to me with urgency and purpose. 

Career:

Life is sometimes poised to move in surprising directions even as you sleep. 

Dance Floor: 

Life is sometimes empty of pain, full of liquor, and conscientiously moving to a melody that only the inner self can feel. 

Road Trip, Reason Unknown:

Life is sometimes sitting in a car seat, moving not slowly, but in the other extreme, underneath the sunny blur, with the wind separating the strands of my hair. I sing alone and simply loud, windows down, doors shut. Those are the days I sometimes live for. 

Foe

Life is sometimes a pawn, a seat, a well wish that fades over time and is later realized as fake. It forces to backtrack thoughts, re-evaluate relationships and conclude conclusions to be confronted by inner judgements alone, followed by sinple actions that close once beautiful chapters of life. 

Mom

I'm far from you, missing you, framing pictures of you, feeling like calling you, thinking of coming back to you. That means no more phone calls asking you for recipes, sticking them on the fridge door, having them fall, getting them lost and calling you all over again.

Fast forward three years later. I still really miss you always. You are always in my eyes and your loving voice is beautiful to hear even if imagined. On some visits, I asked you stories from your life and mine. The way you speak is soft spoken but clear. No other voice I know comes from a human so tortured by grief, but so infused in sweetness and strength of soul. 

In my dreams, I'd build a home with walls made of roses for you and with ceilings spanning the sky; never bringing the bitter cold to you. 

Sometimes, I so desperatly want to correct the world for you so that you may finally smile at me without an ounce of thought dedicated to the monsterous creature in your home. 

You sleep on thorns, and bathe in tears sometimes. Reaching the jail cell and peeling the layers of fear has become exhausting for me. I've spun the word freedom to you in a million phone calls. Sometimes I know I've reached you, and sometimes I'm a blind bat hitting a wall. 

Even if a solution is there, I'm beginning to realize that maybe it will never leave my hands and go to yours, because words of freedom and independence are not enough muscle to shake the fears. 

So, while I chip away at your fears to build your strength, your love is fuel in my own cold and bitter days. Mom, for all the simple things you do for me, I'm indebted to you immensely. I am going to fight to the ends of the earth for you. 

I love you forever mom. 

-Proud daughter

Sky Vodka

Twice a week, I take a flight, to work and back. These are the other reasons for which I've used the airlines.

For work (consulting)
For an event (wedding)
For holiday with family (Diwali)
For unexpected events (Sick parent)
For new baby in the family (Rakesh)
For vacation (Italy)
For a marriage prospect (Insert name of failed prospect)
For the hell of it (Los Angeles)

For my friends' weddings

For his friend's wedding

For the love of ancient monuments that I hope to see someday

Now this list just fades into wishes

Unna

New DNA

My nephew arrived yesterday weighing 6.4 lbs screaming and kicking as he took his first breath. I wasn't there where I should have been. I was 1000 miles away at an airport walking to the security line to reach the gate, while he squirmed in the hands that first held him and welcomed him into the world. When I landed and walked to the next gate, my brother held the phone to his tiny son and told me to hear his tender cry. I don't know what happened after that. As my ears pulled in the voice, my mind became untangled and flew away like a dragon fly, like a massive dust of jasmine petals busting through the air. All the cells of my being, said, "hello".

If my emotions went to outer space at the sound of his minor voice, I can't imagine what I'll go through when I hold him for the first time. Will it suddenly rain in the drought stricken parts of the world? Will the galaxy fly further away? Will new stars and constellations adorn the sky? Will the laughter of billions of chlidren magnify? Will all the paintings on all the world's walls become more beautiful? Will all the ice in the polor caps melt away?

Is this how it feels to have to wait to see the new human being who parallels my DNA?

Loser

I wear some silver rings that no one in particular gifted to me. I've had them for two years. They never slip off and fall into any drain. I take them off at night. I place them anywhere, and yet I never lose them.

Here are a the things I have lost though:

I've lost my iPhone three times
I've lost a beautiful magenta scarf at an airport
I've lost many earrings as a child
I've lost loved ones

Here are the things I almost lost:

I almost lost a good college friend over money
I almost lost my best friend over suspicions
I almost lost my brother to suicide, but he survived
I almost lost my mother after my sister's birth

Here are the things I will never lose:

I'll never lose my mother's unconditional love
I'll never lose my father's trust and respect
I'll never lose my love for laughter

Here are some things I want to lose:

I want to lose the pessimism
I want to lose myself to music
I want to lose the belly

Here are the things I know I will lose:

I'll lose my life some 50 years from now
I'll lose my step along the way

The losses in our lives trail behind us like a line of crumbs. Each is a little bit of food that feeds us life's lessons for the short term and the long.

Factory

There are six liters of blood rushing through me all day and my pounding heart spasms and beats every second. My mind forgets the gaps inbetween thoughts, and plays them like a 24 hour movie without the popcorn. The lungs contract and constrict without a thought, but I'm reminded that I live through all these things that function in silent unison within me. Like a factory underneath my skin, but a corporate, poised being on the outside of it all. 

Time slows, and you become a hermit living in a thached house, crossing into and out of its doorsteps a million times, until one day, you never return.