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what comes to mind when you think of grief? 

melancholy, sadness, despair, depression, uninterested, agony, misery, heartache, hiding….?

it is human nature to take our grief, box it, tape it up with the strongest packing tape you can find, and ship it to storage. but, storage comes with a fee, and for how long will you pay that price?

unpack that box, and as the grief is clawing, ripping and scratching at the cardboard quickly grab it by the horns and take control, before it controls you.

we’re all guilty of the above, including myself. but i realized early on that i could not be a semi functioning human being if i bottled up my grief like this. so here is what i learned through my grieving process and i hope my experience can help you cope with your grief. 

1. time : people would tell me that i shouldn’t be crying hysterically after a certain amount of time, that it would not let the departed soul, well…depart. i don’t believe in any of that. so, no matter what advice you are given, at the end of the day you have to do what helps you cope. some need a year, some need five to fully accept the death of their loved one. be kind to yourself and take your time. 
2. food: the entire duration of my dad’s stay in the ICU i probably had one meal a day and drank multiple cups of coffee. we had been staying at the hospital until the early morning hours. we had no time or motivation to cook anything at home, so my lovely relatives would bring us food. however, my appetite was shot and i ended up losing 15 lbs. the morning my dad passed i couldn’t even swallow food, i felt as if something was stuck in my throat. my eyes were swollen from crying so much, and i had nervous cold sweats out of shock for days. i literally had to force myself to eat, it was the only thing that made my physical state a little better.
3.  work: many people take bereavement time off. however, i did not. i threw myself into work in order to distract myself from the grief after the funeral. this had it’s pros and cons. pros: i wouldn’t be able to sit at home all day and let my emotions get the best of me, i tried to put my mind elsewhere (which, was harder than i thought) at work, if i felt like i was about to get upset i would go cry in the bathroom or just close my office door and many times it was spontaneous. my boss urged me to take the time off, but i didn’t want to as i knew being home would make my mental state much worse. instead i went to work and took walk breaks, which helped.
4. separation anxiety:  for a while, it was extremely hard for me to leave my mom alone. she had just lost her best friend, her companion. my parents did everything together, so i tried to fill that void for her. i tried to do little things here and there like talking on the phone on our commutes to work, going to the temple together, making sure we ate dinner together everyday, etc.  we are each others rocks.
5. social life: my sweet friends would check in on me often, however i didn’t physically see any of them for about a year. the “grief attacks” come in waves, and you never know when or what will trigger it. i would write in the mornings, go to work, the gym, have dinner then go to bed. it’s ok if you’re not fully ready, even in a year (or more), to have or maintain a social life. take care of yourself first. 
6. communication:  don’t feel pressure to respond to calls/texts right away. i would turn my phone on silent. it’s ok to not attend to people right away. your healing is first, always. don’t even worry about explaining yourself, because people owe it to you to be patient and understanding after such a huge loss. 
7. physical activity: you won’t want to workout, or even think about working out. however, try to get at least one walk a day in. it will help you clear your mind. 

i know it may seem hard to fathom now, but time heals. death is permanent, and it’s painful to imagine life not only now without your loved one, but in the future…thinking of all the major life events and precious moments that person won’t be a part of is heart shattering. but don’t leave that bandaid on your wound forever, it will do more harm than good. you need to remove the bandaid after a little bit in order to let your wound heal. but remember, the scar will always be there.

do whatever you need to do in order to cope, for me that is writing about my father. it, in a sense, makes him immortal even long after i’m gone, the writings will be around forever. 

lastly, don’t forget, you are never alone. 

libraries. 

my favorite far off mystical land. among the shelves are lands anywhere you choose to venture off to. 

my school library was full of books from floor to ceiling. each book summoning me for a mental vacation. after school i would head over there before volleyball practice to finish up some homework. i always wish i had more time to take advantage of all the books. one of my favorites growing up was on my sixth grade summer reading list, “holes” i still remember how the book played out like a movie in my head as i read each word. when i was done, i felt as if i had watched an entire feature film. really the only source of entertainment we had in such a small town, the magic of the book. 

during my college weekends, i discovered the lafayette library. nestled in the green hills of the east bay this library had a california charm- a contemporary twist but still felt regal. i spent most of my weekends in there working through organic chemistry problems or reading for biology. i would be seated at the cherry wood desks with a green overhead reading light, other times i sat outside underneath the gazebo engulfed in english ivy, the veins leaving little gaps for the sun to shine through. 

at the college campus, my favorite part of the library were the little cubicles, particularly the hidden ones. a walk up the stairs and and through the rows of bookshelves and there was my spot. the single cubicle lit by a little reading light overlooking the campus the white buildings with the spanish clay tile roofs surrounded by the giant pine and spruce trees of northern california. i spent my evenings studying until my eyeballs hurt and occasionally got a chance to pick up a book that would take me on a little thought vacation away from school studies. 

the most sublime library i ever listed was the new york city public library. it was an out of a movie kind of experience. somewhere, where i’d like to think james joyce or edgar allan poe would be spilling their thoughts out onto paper on a snowy winter evening. the grand rose reading room, the large wooden desks lit by mini golden lamps, the handpainted murals above blessing my eyes when i needed a break in between words, and the large windows behind the hundreds of thousands of books where the clouds of november were rolling in for an excitingly frightening manhattan thunderstorm. 

the library,

the mind garden.

my childhood was full of bike riding, scraped knees, ninja turtle band-aids, playing video games with my brother, playing dress up, putting on plays for my parents, snow ball fights in the icy canadian winters, and of course pep talks from the best girl dad. 

my dad was my yoda. like most immigrant dads, he’d start his motivational speeches with “i walked five miles to school in the hot indian sun everyday” and then proceed to tell some beautiful story with a moral lesson nestled in there. he would love sharing his wisdom with my big brother and i. his favorite fable was “bruce and the spider”. if you haven’t heard the story, it goes like this…

robert bruce, the king of scotland went into hiding after losing  six battles. while in hiding, he noticed a spider try time and again to spin its web. every time the spider fell it got right back up to begin again. the seventh time the spiders efforts were successful, this motivated bruce to get back on his feet, he assembled his army and went back to win the battle

during my childhood i was too young to understand the moral of the story, so i always nodded my head and said “ok papa” whenever he tried to build me up. 

dad continued to share this story as i got older. when i understood the moral of the story, it really opened up my eyes. i learned what the spider and ultimately bruce learned, 

failure is a part of the process

we are so afraid to fail because we care so much about our public perception. more people would pursue a career they love if there was a pathway that guaranteed success. failure is looked down upon, unfortunately. 

did you get your dream job on first try? did you find love on the first date you’ve ever been on? did you fulfill your wildest dreams on the first try? most likely, no. for most of us it takes years of failure after failure to reach that one opportunity that changes our lives forever. 

success is all about who continues to climb when others have given up

while you’re climbing the ladder to success people will pull at your leg, light the ladder on fire, push your ladder off the top, etc. when you ladder falls, dust yourself off and start climbing again. there is beauty in the journey. 

your knuckles will get tired after knocking on doors for years, but sometimes you’ll decide to build your own door. but if you decide to do so, it’s not instant success. 

learn to love failure 

i must have submitted my poetry manuscript to 20-30 publishing companies, i got one reply and it was a lovely lady who said she loved my work but “it wasn’t for them at this time”. i was so ecstatic that i got a response, someone acknowledged my work! those submissions were all failures, but if i saw it as “wow, my poetry must suck” then i’d give up writing all together. there are so many writers who couldn’t get published through a traditional publisher, and self-published their work. in a way i guess, i built my own door rather than waiting on someone to open a door for me. 

writers who self-published: james joyce, t.s. eliot, stephen king, jk rowling, e.e. cummings, and many more.

failing up

failure is a staircase, each time we try hard at something and fail, we’re taking a step up. you are one step closer to the top, success. think of failure as practice and success a bonus. you are still doing what you love, which is going for it. in fact, all the people successful at what you’re trying to succeed in are real life examples that success will happen.

it’s just a matter of never giving up. 

august 25, 2019

it was the day, that day. the house still felt ice cold, as it had since i returned from the hospital at 4am. 

people collected, dressed in white head to toe. i stood before my mirror, rehearsing my eulogy one last time before i presented it to you. my face turned red, my heart dropped to the floor, and then the floor fell from beneath my feet when i read “rest in paradise, papa”. wait, my dad? my knees gave out as they had the day you departed your body. a knock on the bathroom door “we’re going to be late” it was mom. it was as if a 50 lb weight was chained to each leg. it was as if i was being dragged into a nightmare that i knew had no end.

it was as if darkness had reached up from below to grab my feet and drag me to the funeral home. 

as i approached the hall where dad rested, i sat outside on the bench as my ears bled to the sound of mom crying. i wish i could bring him back, just for you. i wish i could give you your best friend back. 

i took a deep breath, and closed by eyes before i stepped inside. i thought it was all a lie, that it couldn’t be you. but then, i saw you, it was as if you were taking one of your afternoon naps. so at peace. i kissed your forehead before i took my seat. 

i looked around, all your friends are here, your family….but, why aren’t you? 

you have been called home, and there is nothing i can do about it

“there is no ceiling, chase your dreams”, my eyes always lit up when my dad would say this.

he taught me that as a girl there was nothing i couldn’t accomplish and he would raise me the same as if i was a boy. in many cultures, boys are put on a pedestal and girls get second string. 

“bande vargi sooch” (“think like a man”) he would say.

girls becoming women and are no less than boys becoming a man.

however, once i grew to be an adult, i came across some situations that demanded i return back into a box. i was told “do something within your reach”, and then i thought ” what is within my reach”. my dad always instilled in me that anything is possible.

so…what reach? 

let me give you the groundbreaking answer: there is no reach. 

i got a lot of negativity throughout my life about what i should and should not do. if i wasn’t mentally strong, i would’ve caved just so i could get people’s “acceptance”. 

the thing is, once we exit the womb society has its set of red pencils sharpened and ready, prepared to mark up our lives. you can either fuss about erasing the marks, follow the marked instructions, or just continue living your life and not allow society to put you in the marked area. 

the truth is: that timeline you’re under fire to follow, the milestones you’re stressing to meet is all made up of outside noise

you don’t have to, complete college by 22, get married by 30, have kids by 32, give up your career after kids, etc. etc. etc. 

i feel so fortunate that I had so many people to not only encourage me to reach for the stars, but push me every day to get there…

but for those of you who lack that token of encouragement, hear it from me…

you can do anything, and be anything. no matter what your age, no matter what your financial status, no matter your “family background” no matter how many red marks society has drawn over your endeavors.  

a side note, on “family background” — if you think you’re better than someone because of the number of zeros in your bank account, or that somehow you “deserve better” you are a part of the problem. that is what i call, the americanized version of the caste system. 

anyways, back to my point…

it’s 2021, so fully, unapologetically be yourself, reach for the stars, and shatter the glass ceiling society or any person may place over your head. 

empowered women, empower women