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A whimsical tirade

I am fasting today to mourn the death anniversary of my grand-pa.  But that is not how I want to honor him and his memory. When my grand-pa was alive and was physically capable he would organize these health camps in his home districts of Kavre every winter. He lived with one principle “Sewa Nai Dharma Ho”. These camps gave some elderly people and children from remote parts of Kavre the rare opportunity to see a doctor. AAOCA Japan would send intern-doctors to Nepal and these student doctors would give free eye/medical care to these otherwise deprived people from remote villages. Nepal Eye Hospital would give free cataract operation to those elderly citizens that needed them who otherwise would remain with a blurry vision for the rest of their lives.

As a young 11-12 year old child I loved wearing a “Volunteer” badge on my shirt and walk around these camps helping with what I could. I fondly remember I would sit and attempt to translate between elderly folks and Japanese doctors whose English were rough like sandpapers. This is a very fond memory of my childhood. It’s a mark my grandfather left on me and I still cherish it every day.

These camps do not happen anymore. Nobody has the time. Nobody cares.

I am currently working with several friends and family in Nepal to have a day-long “Swastha Sibir” organized to at least kick start this and see how far I can take it. The doctors will not be Japanese but our own Nepalese doctors who we will be volunteering the services for one day for free.  First step towards this is organizing and funding.

I would like to ask all of you my friends and family to help me bring this simple idea to life again. Just give what you think is appropriate. Any help will count. Through this Blog I will keep everyone posted about the progress. The target day is Jan-11-2012 so please find in your heart and give and help.

PS> You do not need a Paypal account to Donate.

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=3P6FC2FNTQFBE

“Life is not fair”,

Then why am I fighting all along?

I,
Yes Me, the one that matters

I’m going to frolic.

See me skip these steps.

Watch, because I’ll show you the way.

When it comes to emotions

Do not worry,

But when it comes to expediency

Oh hell, it’s an emergency.

You can run the race

Isn’t it a disgrace?

You accomplish all these,

Your degrees, career, your daily grind

All this you died for

For a measly death shall surmount you anyway,

Are you really that blind?

You are here

Reading this, but you are not.

Your steps are misguided,

What you see is not all that you want to notice.

You want to frame this image

Post it up on the walls of your memory

With a signature of judgment,

And a marinated sense of entitlement to what you have seen.

Why are you still reading this?

You are an unyielding piece of shit.

Yes, I verbally abused you

But what do you expect you just invaded my universe.

Your mind is racing to get to the bottom of this

As such, so is mine.

Consequently we serve the same intention

In dissimilar time spectrums

Within parallel universes.

Cognition is clogged,

of everything that seems full

half seems to have withdrawn

from the realm of factual.

An inner tornado of perception

melts away into a fecal matter

pushed through an inconsistent anus.

pushed through as actions of suffocated,constricted and cramped desires

Man, that shit is heavy

As such my personal inner violence is defined.

Pleasure is within the spectrum of pain

It is such that it often fails to register within my vision

Thus, these nicotine stained teeth grind.

Who is really real or could it be that its me that’s who is fake

I detach myself from the sheet every morning

in close proximity of getting wrapped in it each day all over again.

This sphere of madness is ever spinning

Who seems the the most clueless is ever winning

There’s too many of these to immitate

Define Schizophrenic?

It is some heavy shit , my friends.

Born and raised a Hindu I never considered my religion as a part of my existence at all. I grew up opposing things I could not make logical sense of. Customs that did not have any practical significance and spiritual logics that worked within their own interests like politics. But it’s eminent that the GOD factor hits you in life every once in a while. When you question yourself, does he really exist? Especially in times of need and despair you tend to gravitate towards the idea of religion. One fine day in February 2007 every bit of my worldly possessions besides the clothes I was wearing got burnt in an apartment fire. I lost documents, pictures, clothes, money, and my school work, basically everything I had been working so hard for all this time.
My mother heard of this and went to do what she normally does in times of a problem, pray. On top of that she went to a “Jyotish baje” (fortune teller) and he recommended that I worship lord Shiva. Every time I talked to her she kept insisting that I become a little more religious or do as she says. I craved for an answer rather than a blatant remedy. I wanted to believe in something for a change but I just did not find the right direction. My way of being religious and answering to my mother’s request was to go get me a tattoo of “Om Nama Shivaya” on my forearm. That way I see the hymn dedicated to lord Shiva everyday for the rest of my life. But all this sudden changes faded away as time passed. But not for too long though.
Life got rougher by the day and to add to the trauma my grandfather who I was really close to growing up passed away. I could not even say goodbye or just be with my family. It took a heavy toll on me. Depression sunk in to me like a sinking freight ship .Deeper and deeper. I went on the 13 day long fasting as a mourning process, shaved my head and did what my culture and religion demands me to do. I used this time to do a lot of soul searching but it only brought more misery than answers.
One day I was at work feeling really depressed, down and tired of long shifts. A Sikh man with the traditional turban and a notebook in his hand walked into my work place. His eyes were distinct and piercing. His voice was soothing and comforting, especially at a time when I was restless inside. He asked me to show him my palms. In my mind I thought “Where the fuck did this guy come from”?, an Indian guy reading palms in the suburbs of Dallas. Just did not add up. But his persona was so strong he drew me towards him. It was almost as if I was under a spell. On a regular day I would not believe this guy telling me about my future by looking at my palms. But I was vulnerable at that time. I was in dismay when he mentioned a loss of a close one. I asked him who sent you here. He just said , “He can’t come so he sends people like me.”. To prove his point further on he asked me to think of a bird and put a piece of paper in my hand. He told me to open the paper without revealing to him what bird I was thinking of. When I undid the folded paper it had “Pigeon” written on it in Hindi. And that was what I was thinking of. The guy went on for about five more minutes bombarding me with blessings and guidelines. I could barely keep up with his tempo of doing things. He gave be a blessed piece of black stone that he proclaimed had an image of the lord Ganesh on it. It wrapped my fingers around it and told me I should wear it around my neck with a black thread. This seemed all too familiar but at a very unusual time and place. I was confused and to add to all this semi hallucinating experience the guy got down to business. “Son donate some money to the poor”, because if you give you will enjoy a larger return. Quiet an investment scheme he had. I offered a small amount of $10 which he blindly refused. I was so much in his spell I handed him; let’s just say a larger amount.
Throughout the remainder of the day I could not gravitate to what had just happened. Did the guy just con me? But at the same time his touch felt like it took off a load off my chest. I felt calmed and serene. Out of all these years I have worked here, I had never before seen the man. And as he walked away I felt weak and emotional. I thought of my grandfather.

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