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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.
“Dude you are always facing problems, everyday, it’s all because you don’t pray”,Mr.X my employer almost says that to me everyday.
Is he threatening me or is he just making a suggestion?
He was brought up in an affluent Islamic family by a single mom who pretty much made it so far without a man in her life, in a foreign land. She pulled through rooted in her strong beliefs and passed those beliefs on to them.Both he and his brother turned out to be fine young men, Mr.X rather immature at times however. I grew up a middle class Brahmin kid with religion all around me but none of those factors influencing me the way they were installed in Mr.X.
He asks me at times what do you believe in. I have no answer for him. He jokes the elephant god “Ganesha”?
The concept of 33 million gods is beyond his and my grasp.So i do not even bother explaining.What do we Hindus believe in really?Honestly, I really do not know.
Christians believe in Jesus, Muslims believe in Allah, What the fuck do I believe in?
Shiva ? Bramah ? Vishnu ? Ganesh ? Ram ? Krishna?
Who is my god?
This is too confusing, but I really do not need an answer neither.
He keeps pushing the ideology that all that he has is due to the blessing of god upon him and his family. Is it really? Isn’t it because you were born in a rich family and you have more time than I do to think about god? And isn’t the lack of anxiety and worry your reason of thanking god? Half the time that I am conscious, I am thinking of how to make that next bill and countless other things that make living a constant struggle for me. A lot of times I thought may be it is the lack of godly presence that has made me see these days of struggle and misfortune. Thus, I paused and I prayed. I closed my eyes and prayed. I cried in silence. But I am not as patient as I probably should have been, but the irony is, I begged ‘god’ for patience and strength to believe in him.
I respect an individual’s right to be religious and follow a lifestyle. But I do not believe hypocrites and these God Goons either. Who say they are on the road that god created for them and consciously veer on to allies commit their ‘sins’ and merge right back into that road like they never sidetracked. At least I do what I do and I have no regrets. I do not claim to be an atheist but I am yet to meet an individual or encounter anything that could inspire me to believe in the existence of god in a logical way, the way I crave to understand him in. Till then god remains in my intellectual curiosity and these fuckin’ God Goons keep on taunting me.
Trial and error
Trial and error
For how long? People got tired of every system that came in place. I did for sure. I got the hell out of there the second I could. But the question that remains is, has things been any different than it could have been had I been back home?
I ponder.
Weigh my pros and cons.
Family versus isolation.
Bhat Dal versus a well done steak with A1 sauce.
Hero Honda CBZ versus Honda Accord.
Paying $3.85 for gas or living without it.
Amenities versus Identity.
The weighing process is a confusing task. One thing I miss dearly being away from home is a sense of security. Somebody’s got your back. That is a very reassuring feeling. I have contemplated moving back home and living a life that is confined in comforts but abundant in tranquility of mind. But that ‘tranquility of mind’ factor is of no importance to someone contemplating migration. It only weighs heavily on you when you are surrounded by the lack of it. At times all that makes this material world go around makes absolutely no sense to me; I remember my childhood when things were so much simpler.
Come home, do your homework and that was pretty much all that you had to be worried about. I wish I could move back in time and make different decisions retaining the knowledge and experiences I have now. But then that’s all you can do regarding that, Wish!
I am a confused man; from the third world living a pretentious life of an immigrant, in a land that has every thing you could imagine, yet it is unattainable. Where else do I move from here?
It’s all a false sense of hope that feeds on every human mind.
“Man, only if I could get the hell out of here.”
Nepal is a no more a ‘Kingdom’. From 28th of May, 2008.
It’s a Federal Democratic Republic of Nepal (सँघिय लोकतान्त्रीक गणतन्त्र नेपाल)
That basically establishes Nepal as the most modern constitution in the world. (Correct me if I am wrong). The authors of this new constitution can now look at the examples of every modern country, learn from their drawbacks and craft the most advanced constitution ever written. The first gay representative being nominated to the new constituent assembly is unheard of even in the most advanced countries. Socially revolutionized Nepal is a fresh breath of air, but the stench of our narrow minded history still lingers over our heads. Just like me, Nepal as a nation seems to be confused with the wind of change that it is going through. It will take some time for the nepali people to rationalize the changes and implement it in their daily lives.
‘Purano bani sudarna garo’.
In a country where ‘rights’ is an unknown experience to most of its citizen until now will see a storm of confusion along with these winds of change.
I speculate, am I really living in the most modern society ?
It’s confusing.
Once again its time for “Trial and error”.
FORT WORTH — Police investigators said two friends hanging out became involved in a confrontation in which one teen was stabbed about 20 times and another was fatally shot.
800 block of Buffalo Springs Drive in Fort Worth
Danny Allen, 13, and his 14-year-old friend were eating popcorn at the friend’s home in the 800 block of Buffalo Springs Drive on Wednesday when the two Hughes Middle School students became involved in an argument.
Police said the 14-year-old was stabbed during the altercation and grabbed a handgun, shooting Danny several times and killing him.
Source: Dallas Morning News
I read this news in the Dallas Morning News, and I am baffled. When I was 13 or 14 of age I did have a lot of confrontation with my buddies over a lot of things. It usually ended up in us not talking to each other for a few days or simply a few kicks in the rear end. And then it was back to buddies. I cannot imagine a scenario where may be my old friend Pranav pull a fast one on me or teased me about my long ‘baun’ nose and I suddenly pulled a 40 caliber handgun and popped a cap on him for making fun of me.
How does a 14 year old kid acquire a gun is out of my rational? And what mind-frame must he/she be in to be able to shoot another individual. What kind of parents grows these kids? School shootings are like a recurring phenomenon. I guess I grew up in a very different society then these kids. At the age of fourteen I had lot to fear, my parents, my teachers, etc. The craziest things I could dare do when I was fourteen was probably go light up a cigarette in the back allies that I took to school. Yes, we did fight after school with the kids across the neighborhood or the guys that gave us the ‘stare’ last week, but with fists and knuckles. May be a hockey bat or a iron rod to the ones that went a step further. And maybe a ‘khukuri’ (a traditional Nepali Knife) if the person really lost his or her mind. A gun is like an alien to any Nepal youth, at least when I was growing up.
Here in America, it’s easier to acquire a gun than it is to pass the fifth grade.
Last summer Reetu and I decided to get a place of our own. I have always been a recluse to some extent. I had lived all by myself despite so many difficulties and objections from friends and family. My mom often asked me to get a roommate not only for financial reasons but her regular worry about how i would fall sick some day and wouldn’t even have a friend to fetch me medicines.But, I loved my privacy and freedom. And that same element started to haunt me after a while. I had been away from home for almost three years and i had very few friends that i could relate to. In my solitude i would imagine myself sharing a little space with the one i loved.
When we rented this space it was almost in desperation to meet deadlines. We had not even seen the actual apartment until we first got the keys to the place. Reetu had a gut feeling about it of some sorts. We looked at the model (which is usually well furnished and made to look attractive) and she decided she wanted it. I initially thought it was a little too small, but then how much space do you need for two people. It met our price range , was close to work and of course we had to meet those deadlines. One thing that lingered at the back of my mind was that it was on the third floor. I kept imagining heavy grocery bags and pictured myself out of breath carrying them upstairs. But all that changed in a split second when we got to the apartment for the first time. We were already overjoyed by the idea of a nest of our own “extra privacy” , and the view we got after we entered just stunned us. For those who have lived in mid-priced apartments here in the US know that majority of these apartments are not made for anything else but to accommodate you.
A chunk of sunshine all day and an amazing view of Texas plains all the way to the horizon. At night the absence of stars in the sky is replaced by endless flickering lights. Almost all of north-west Dallas/Fort Worth metropolis is visible from our patio. Its not the best view i have ever seen ,but in an ever growing city like dallas it is my little oasis. Every now and then we will entertain friends , wind down the day with a drink watching the sun go down or sometimes while Reetu is at work i simply go out, smoke a cigarette, and gaze.
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