….feeling empty

feeling empty

It has been 4 days since you have been gone

for you it is a “vacation”…for me the agony of an empty house

I miss the smile, the questions, the demands

it has been like my heart has stopped

as much as my mind understands, my heart refuses

I hate being the part time mother

I hate seeing you come back to me as a different person

i hate missing you

a part of me understands your needs and your time

a part of me wants the time to fly by so that you are back in my arms

a part of me loves and yearns for you

a part of scared shit that something has happened to you

i tried to call…he did not pick the phone

I felt empty…the loss of losing you before having actually lost you

as he digs your heart with hatred towards me…I miss being with you

you are too little to understand what he does, i am too tired to explain why my stomach hurts

all i do is everyday pray for you

pray that you are ok and happy and will be happy to see me

I miss you and feel burdened…

and wish that no parent feels this agony of feeling empty…


the smile

the smile….

January 27, 2014 at 6:53pm

the smile came from an unexpected place

it was in the flower that was yet a bud

it was in the flake that was on its way to the ground

it was in the empty chair made warm by the sun gleaming from the window

the smile came from an unexpected place

it was in the painting you made for me

it was in the scissors you left out for me

it was in the shirt you brought for me from the dryer

the smile came from an unexpected place

it was in my heart when I heard you argue with grandma about hot soup

it was in my heart when I heard you ask over and over again to watch the same TV show

it was in my heart when I heard you ask for me as soon as you entered the house

the smile came from an unexpected place

it was in the space you made in my heart when you came into this world

it was in the space you made in my palm by wiggling your tiny hand in mine

it was in the space you made by snuggling with me on a chilly wintery night

it was in that smile, I found the sun’s warmth,

the hope for life, the invisible thread that joins us both

it was in that smile, I found your name

the meaning of my life, the golden curve that made everything alright

the unraveling

she died that day when the wound appeared on the surface

the wound was always there with a thousand lies and thousand untold sorrows

at first she thought it was she who was bleeding

when the blood first appeared

the blood was always there

with a vengeance and gentleness of a child

at first she could not find the source

when her baby started crying

she thought she made a mistake

the baby was crying with the blood that was her own

at first she did not care neither for the wound and the blood

when the baby appeared covered in red

she was shocked to find the child like that

the baby was covered in the vengeance

at first she wiped the blood with water only for it to reappear

when she looked for the source – it was neither her nor the baby

the vengeance was blood that came from him

he stood there with blood bleeding from his wounds

at first he neither saw his own blood nor the wounds

he only looked at the red and they both were covered in it

he smiled of the curdling vengeance thinking he had killed them

but as he saw their backs he did not realize what was happening

at first when she cleaned the blood, this time with her own

when the baby had tears in her eyes and smile on her face

she thought she was wiping away the blood

it was then that it dawned that she was wiping away vengeance

it is that day she was reborn,

that the thousand lies and the thousand sorrows

could not hide her and the baby’s powerful truth

it was then the last of the blood became the first of the sun’s shine

– Demise- June 18th, 2012/ Birth- June 18th, 2012

that time

That time

January 26, 2014 at 4:30pm
That time when the pain in her heart

stung like an arrow in an open wound

she slept like a wounded solider

when she truly was a baby who slept after crying

That time when the clouds hid the shining sun

but couldn’t hide the shine of the sun

she laughed like a clown

when she truly was a child who couldn’t smile

That time when she sat in prayer

when sitting like that felt like death

she prayed in front of the father of the world

when truly her father was the cause of her demise

That time when she chose to forgive

when she was alive without air or freedom

she breathed life into life

when truly her life was the cause of her death

That time when she chose to live

when living meant letting go of death

she took the wound, the shine, the prayer and the freedom

when truly they were always her own without seeking permission

That time when she chose to let life find life

when the moment she chose to become alive

she became her own person

when truly she saw her reflection she realized she was never dead

spectators of their life…

women standing with a downtrodden face
standing with a broken spirit
wanting to be a part of their world
became the spectators of their life

like they had everything to lose before they gained it
wasting the breaths of their life
asking death to mourn their life
as they became the spectators of their life

prostituted before they became human
shamed before they were born
wallowing in their own tears
drowned in their blood
as they became the spectators of their life

then one day came a shine in the moonlight, bright but dull
the spectator sat on the edge of the bed
her feet touched the ground
and the spectator became the witness
inviting life to mourn the undeath of their unbroken spirit

A fond remembrance….

What I learned from my 4 year old:

On one of the visits to a unknown place (for the first and last time), my child came with me.  It was a safe space, a counselors office- and I was late – because I cannot drive to less known locations without a GPS and my GPS died that day!!!

I reached the office frustrated that I was late. Obviously had missed the appointment. But they were kind. They said – that if I waited, they will see me after their current appointment was done.

So, here I am in the waiting room, with a half made “head” thinking of all the stuff I need to talk about and completely lost in my world. My child on the other hand was playing with toys. Among all the toys, my eyes fell on a tin sun.  The sun was yellow. Bright yellow. However, only one of its eyes was open and the other closed. I, for the life of me, at that second could not comprehend what that meant.  My little one – saw me looking at the sun and said – Ma look- sunlight and moonlight! day and night!

IT stunned ME!

With her fresh eyes – she saw everything so clearly.

I felt strangely proud of this tiny little person who in that moment – saw what things are! she made me feel alive and connected to the present moment- in one second.  All the spirituality stuff I was reading – was being played out in front of me by MY child.

Be present.

that was a GIFT she gave me that day.  a gift I will always fondly remember.

I love you chutka!!!

The battle….

Who is it against whom we wage a battle? Our inner self or others?

I ask this question at the verge of taking few decisions on a important aspect of my life.  As I find answers, I find questions – questions that take me into a deeper dilemma I am in now.  A dilemma only a mothers heart can hear and see.  The battle I refer to is that of parental alienation.  I have the custody of my child.  Her father visits with her.  I did not for once think that I would be divorced.  But have had accepted the reality that I am. I never thought I would be a single mom. But hey I am. Like 50% of the women I know.  big deal. You married. You both did not work out. Things ended. and that is not a problem. that is a part of growing up in life.

What has bothered me is the immaturity and the instability of this man – the father of my child- who erodes my child’s confidence in me as a parent. my sweet kid- who unknowingly calls me a bad mom- when they do not even know what it means.  When this first started happening I tried to fight it. I bad mouthed him as well. Then I saw how it broke my child’s heart.  and it broke mine. I stopped and paused. I did not want this for my kid.  I wanted to see my selfless, loving, kind- kid.

I went to a therapist, took some insights from her, take my child to a therapist and have since continued the practice.  This has been going on for the last 1 year now.  The erosion of my child’s confidence has become stronger.  I see the love and the confusion.  The hate has not made it’s way in yet!

As I continue to research this and pause on my response, I have asked myself.  Who am I fighting this battle against.  Those invisible thoughts that are being planted in my child’s head, the person who is doing it, or me -myself.

I have dealt with the pain and the trauma this has caused and deal with this on an everyday basis. Today, I found an answer. However small, that answer lies within me.  The answer is my unwavering love and unconditional love for my child.  I have come to believe that life is a gift.  If I live the gift, every single minute, my child will see it.  Sooner or later, the thoughts planted in her head will die. How and when – I do not know. All I know that the Universe or the some greater power that sends children in this world- will take care of this.  While this is not an upbringing I would want my child to have, the legal system has bound my hands in forcing me to co-parent my child with this person.  I will do my best. Be the best and good human I know how to be – motherhood will take care of itself. My child will be taken care of…how I do not know.  But rather than battling with him or his words, I will now win at life. Because a winning mother is a winning child…if not now…maybe at some unknown infinite time in future.


…of Gods, Real Estate, and Male Privilege

The first time I bought a house, it was a smooth experience. As smooth as it can be.  I was pregnant and looking to move before I had the baby in about 3 months. I must have seen about 10 houses with my husband and was tired and ready to give up already.  Then the “love at first sight” happened and I found our dream house where I wanted our baby to be born. Sounds Normal right. Yeah! It did to me too! But then life happened, got divorced, moved out and now am selling the dream house where my baby was supposed to grow up.  So when life give you lemons, you make lemonade (no strike that—I will take lemon vodka please).

Run Around- Round 2- Now I am again buying a house, albeit as a single mom- who is over her head in many many many ways…and my experience of house buying has been anything but smooth.  Now this may sound as a complaint to many, but it is not.  I understand that it is a hard process for all parties involved and I am not talking about negotiations and the rest.  The logistics are overwhelming, but not unmanageable.

It is about the powerful absence of a man by my side.  Back home in India, whenever I set out to do something and if faced with a problem, I would turn to my dad and one way or the other- the problem got solved.  No, my dad is not a miracle worker, but he did have a power. The power of being male.  Here in USA, till I was married to my ex- my problems did get solved- in their own way- because HE solved them. Now, remember, I was there side by side, his equal – matching his foot to my foot- but never in the drivers seat. Some for my own reasons and some for the subconscious reason that I knew he would solve the problem “because he was better at it”.

However, now, when I am buying the house, and TAKING the exact same steps as I did when with him- no difference in the precautions and the measures at all- my experience of problem solving is different. And it is not any major differences in the surface, but many many subtle differences – some I can’t even name or put a finger on.  It is in the how – the many real estate agents treated me, it is in how my current landlord treats me, and it is how the negotiations went through.  It is something unique which I do not have strong evidence of – but is linked to my femaleness – something where I feel a power differential and is very subconscious and pervasive in the behavior of all parties involved.

While I could name the phenomenon with many labels, the only explanation, that sits well within my understanding of the world is the absence of the male presence with me.  Whether it was my father or my husband, or my boyfriend or brother- my experience of navigating the world is different and even better versus when I am navigating the world on my own. On the surface – this may appear as a “so what”.  But it is not a “so what” question.  Perhaps, the real question is to ask – WHY is my experience of navigating the world different when faced alone vs when with a man?

Then comes the question of the power of money- how money and male privilege are connected? Women have been seen as second class citizens as time immemorial because of their inability to be financially independent.  This fact is subconsciously engraved in all of our heads – both men and women alike.  That is why even women treat other women like second class citizens. That figuratively women have never been connected with the power of money, their ability to earn their own money and sustenance, and their ability to live their lives on their own terms.  That being a single woman is automatically qualified as weak and unable to “carry on” the state of affairs. Heck, even I am new to it, because many other single women I knew back home and here- did not or do not earn for themselves, but rather survived because of father, brother, boyfriend etc

What is the solution to such a pervasive, and invisible problem?  What is it that will change the consciousness of the world around us? I sincerely believe that the answer does not lie in one solution, but a complex set of solutions.  A set of solutions wherein there are more and more women in positions of power and authority.  That all the women are able to sustain themselves financially. And this is NOT TO compete with the men (we all have own own problems to solve and competing isn’t one of them).  This is to actually show and believe our own selves- to engrave in the identity and consciousness of the modern world – that we too exist as human and not just as women with the full ability to “hunt and gather” for ourselves and our survival.  It is essential that we make a undeniable identity in the modern history. Take a look at our classical history – where all the brave women in all walks of life have been and remain unnamed, where their acts have not been honored- it is more of a revisionists history- where women did not exist. We owe it to ourselves and our daughters and our sons, to be at the frontiers of whatever drives our passion, and not be distracted by the labels of fashion, and beauty, masculinity and femininity,….to be there and do whatever it takes to break this invisible ceiling.

The world is currently at war – it is at war with self- the war is not between the genders- but in the way the genders have been perceived.  It is in the consciousness of the world – that places and burdens the men with facing the world without their humanity and on the women who are forced to face the world with the external standards of prettiness and beauty.  Both extremes – both not allowed to owe our humanity and both disowned by our experience of the world.

So  let us owe the world- let us become fully human – beyond the social construction of gender and privilege – become the face of humanity in OUR EVERY SINGLE MOMENT OF EXISTENCE.


The refusal

January 26, 2014 at 1:59am

he was sitting on the road

being the father he never had

she was looking at them for the

family they never had

in the missed moments

the child looked at two lost souls

whom she came from

for the family she never knew

the laughter then broke

her eyes smiled

as he said something funny

and she curled her arms against his neck

the family always will be there

just not how they both knew family

for one was orphan within a whole family

the other was soul of family

the child smiled

this is the family she knew

she did not yet know if she would become an orphan

or the soul of the broken family

what she knew was sitting on the road was her father

and watching them from the window was her mom

and that in covering those ten steps

were the pieces of the broken family

that reflected the soul of the world