My obstacle

So every two weeks, I observe physician-patient interactions at the walk-in renal clinic at Kings County Hospital. Most of the patients who come in are people with chronic kidney disease, sometimes diabetes, and often in need of dialysis. After they're done waiting they're usually pretty upset, and in a hurry to leave. Though occasionally, there are some really sweet patients who just want to feel better. Late in January, we had a patient with multiple myeloma with renal failure on top of it. He was here from Trinidad on vacation, visiting his sister and her family, felt sick and received his diagnosis. He knew he had only a handful of months left to live. Definitely one of the sweet ones. I don't really say much when I go to the hospital, but he noticed me standing there and said I looked like an important person, someone who matters. Stately was the word he used haha. He kept talking, and soon I got the impression that he was incredibly aware of his imminent death and wanted to say as much as he could while he still had the chance. As you've guessed, he gave me a life lesson or two. And I'm really glad he did - turns out, I needed to hear what he had to say, and it stuck with me since. He said, "Never let anyone get in the way of what you want. All types of people in all types of ways will get in between you and your goals, but no. You got to fight for what you want. You always got to fight."

And it's true. Different people and different things have been getting in my way, and I haven't been fighting. I've been letting them. I've been getting in my own way with my passiveness and complacence. I'm done with that. I owe myself more. It's fight time.

25 Random Things About Me

Just for fun. Enjoy.

1. I get really hangry if I have to wait too long for my food. That's hungry and angry in case you didn't know.

2. I like to pray in the mornings and in the evenings. It keeps me in perspective and in sight of the bigger picture.

3. A couple of people have told me that I'm too happy of a person to live in the kinda neighborhood I do. But I really like it here, despite how gray the neighborhood is and how depressing things look sometimes.

4. I've ALWAYS wanted to learn Vietnamese. Maybe one day I'll actually get around to it.

5. A great marker of close, lasting friendship with me is whether or not I talk about my GI function with you. If I've spoken to you about my regularity (or irregularity) you know you're definitely here to stay as far as I'm concerned. If I haven't, either I'm still sizing you up to see if you can handle it, or I'm embarrassed to talk about it with you.

6. One of my biggest fears is hurting people's feelings. I like talking a lot of smack, but as long as that line isn't crossed.

7. Making people feel better genuinely makes me happy. I'm on cloud 9 when people laugh at my jokes or enjoy a meal I cooked or smile after a hug.

8. Shameless conversations with a close girlfriend will pick up my mood any day.

9. A good sushi meal works miracles on me.

10. I daydream about being good at a lot of things (sports, musical instruments, other performance arts), but I am too self-conscious to work up to the point where I would ever actually develop a skill. I don't want to go through the phase of being bad at something.

11. I only want an even number of children. I don't want to risk middle-child-syndrome or spoiling a kid or anything like that.

12. The word Bitch hurts me a little on the inside every time I hear it, and even when I occasionally say it.

13. I seldom forget anything that people say to me, especially if it's something unimportant said in passing.

14. I didn't realize how neurotic I was until I started living alone here. I only allow filtered water into my kettle, bamboo plant, and water bottle. I have separate towels for drying clean hands and clean dishes in the kitchen. I'm sure there are others that I am still figuring out.

15. I'm not a fan of the Cheesecake Factory for anything other than cheesecake. It's just large portions of watered-down-stuff-you-can-get-better-anywhere-else.

16. For the past few years, my new year's resolution has been to gain patience. I'm satisfied with my level of patience, so now I'm working on persistence.

17. My mother is by far my best friend. She's the only person who knows exactly what I'm thinking, what I'm happy about, and what I'm scared of without me having to say a word. She's a workaholic and needs to take better care of her health, but she's my hero and I can only hope to be half the person she is when I grow up.

18. My brother is the classiest and most articulate person I know. Thinking of him makes me think that I should raise my expectations and standards for myself. Sometimes that leads to me feeling inadequate, but other times it's motivating.

19. Dancing isn't what it used to be for me, and I'm a little sad about that. It used to be such a huge release for me: just a total break from everything that was bogging on my mind. Maybe since I haven't performed in years I've become disconnected. I'm still looking for something to be my release.

20. My friends are as important to me as my family. There is seldom a day where I don't think about how lucky I am for having them in my life.

21. Hershey's chocolate does absolutely nothing for me. I love chocolate, but not to the point where I'd eat that grainy-cardboard-tasting crap.

22. Half the reason I enjoy Illy coffee is because it rhymes with my name.

23. I want to be more religious than I am, but I just don't have the self-control to get there. I feel like I'm in a very indulgent phase of my life, and I'm still deciding how I feel about that.

24. Almost every time I go out into public, someone comments on how pretty I am. Sometimes I'm creeped out because people say some crazy things, but it's often reassuring and I don't mind it very much at all.

25. One of the most calming things for me is looking up into the sky and gazing at the stars. I think that's what I miss most about living in California: seeing stars.

Where am I?

This doesn't feel like medical school. I'm having too much fun. I've become lazy. It feels kind of like... high school. I was definitely a better medical student in college and grad school than I am now. I was reading over some old posts from my old blog and I'm impressed by how motivated and introspective I was. I want that back... I feel like I lost my groove and now it bothers me. I barely have an attention span anymore: seriously, I've checked facebook like 3 times in the course of writing this post so far (yeah, all 4 sentences of it). I'm going to go try to get some semblance of focus back. Suggestions/advice welcome.

I'm not allowed to get tired

I went to a Divali festival in the City a couple of weeks ago to volunteer at their health fair booth. Nothing too crazy, just taking blood pressures and blood sugar measurements. I met an elderly Indian woman (had to be in at least her 70's) who was wearing a white coat that said OB/Gyn on it. Like most elderly women, she was very sweet and we talked for a little bit, and later on she checked in with me, "How are you doing? Are you tired?"
"No, not really. A little hungry, maybe, but not tired," I answered.
"Good. You can't get tired. We're not allowed to get tired," she said.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about my role here. My role in my family, with my friends, in med school, in New York, in the Sikh community, the broader community, etc. I always thought this kind of thinking came from idle, frustrated minds, but here it is at one of the busiest times in my life. There are definitive changes in my personality and lifestyle that have kicked in since I came to New York, and while they seem to be good changes, their sudden onset makes me wonder if I am still being sincere to who I am. And if I am not, what part of me am I suppressing and why? For the most part, I'm more polite, generally nicer, I cook a hell of a lot more (a couple of guys started referring to me as Betty Crocker), more patient with people, and almost disgustingly domesticated. When did all that happen? I guess some part of me wanted to be redefined. I don't know, I'm really confused about who I am and who I'm becoming.

But an itch in my soul says I'm definitely here for a purpose. A few events have made me realize just how blessed I am to have everything: a complete and happy family, a healthy body, first class opportunities for learning. At some point in my life, all of those have been at risk, and Waheguru kept it together for me. That doesn't happen for everyone. But it did for me. I have to make something of that, right? I can't just go through the motions and become some nobody who lives a nondistinct life every day. I have to stand for something and make a difference in people's lives. But stand up for what, and make differences for whom? What's going to make me tick? Will my cause find me or do I have to find it? I probably have to go find it.

So these are the hats I wear: mid 20-something, Punjabi, Sikh, woman, sister, daughter, friend, medical student. What do those add up to? I don't know. I know that the Punjabi Sikh women I've seen are, and are expected to be, tireless. I've seen this in my mother, my aunts, my grandmothers, my friends. These women's lives are lived for others. Always taking care of their families and friends, always making sacrifices, and never in a position to expect the same from anybody. Is that what I'm destined for? Maybe. I can see that happening, and I'm oddly okay with it. Doctors have to make a lot of sacrifices too. I mean, once I started here, there went my 20's. And it won't stop at that. I feel like I'll have to constantly choose between my personal interests and my career, because they won't always match up. Or between my family and my career. And somehow, I'm fine with that too. There are plenty of doctors who seem to find a great balance, so why not me?

What role does Sikhi play in all of this? My Sikhi. I'm at a point where religion has the smallest role in my life than ever, but my faith is at its strongest. I have never felt so well taken care of, so loved, so blessed in my life as I do right now. And I only have Waheguru to thank for providing me with my life and the people in it.

This feels like a mental puberty. And this time, there aren't videotapes from the 80's to spell it out for me. I don't even know if this is the kind of thing I'm supposed to be able to figure out either. I'm not going to bother. Here's what I know after writing all this: I'm setting myself up for a life lived for others, and Waheguru will take care of me as I go through it.

I'm wide awake.

Week 2

We have our first exam this week. I feel like I've been here for years. Since the first day of school last Monday, I've been on campus for an average of 12 hours per day between class and studying. I decided that it's not worth burning myself out over; after all, it's pass/fail. Towards the end of last week and this week I've been trying to incorporate about an hour of working out into my schedule so that I don't turn into a complete fat ass in the library. I've also been cooking a lot more than I used to. Hopefully those habits will keep up as time goes on. It feels like we're studying for finals every day. I missed this though, in all honesty. I'm really happy to just jump right into it at full speed after the slow year that I had off, so I'm definitely in a good place. All I need is some good shopping time sometime this weekend and I'll be ecstatic. Or maybe I'll wait a little longer for my current billing period to close. Sushi would be nice though.

Last week I felt a little awkward socially. Back home I was so comfortable and happy with my group of friends. I genuinely believe that I was surrounded by the best possible people back home. Going from that across the country to this new place definitely threw me off. I didn't really prepare myself for meeting new people and making new friends, and I didn't really want to be in that position. It's getting better though. I'm certainly not one of those people who approaches everyone and introduces myself, I usually let circumstances take care of that for me. I've met a handful of people through studying in the library who I think will be good to keep around, and for now I'm happy with that. Most of these people will be in my life almost every day for the next four years, so I shouldn't have to worry about putting so much effort into getting to know them at this point. I miss having someone very close to me nearby though. I've always had one friend locally who I could just express anything to, and that's what's lacking here. For now, anyway. Oh well. I'm getting late for the library, it opened 5 minutes ago and I feel like I should've been there.

Orientation

So I am a first year medical student at SUNY Downstate in Brooklyn. I'm ecstatic about being here, and I chose this school because they were the only U.S. medical school to let me in. Though I might've chosen to come here over other schools I interviewed at if they also let me in. My class was encouraged multiple times to start a journal to track ourselves throughout school, so that's what I am going to do here for awhile. Let's see where it goes.

I definitely still don't completely believe that I got in. What a journey... Waiting for life to happen is by far the worst way to spend it, and I learned that the hard way. But at least I got to where I want to be. I feel very unsettled and it hasn't hit me yet that I moved out of California. Till this week I've been surrounded by my immediate and extended family, and even some friends from California over the past weekend. I guess those nine days to pack up my life, say goodbye and move didn't leave much time for me to internalize everything.

During the White Coat Ceremony, I had a moment where I looked around and thought to myself, "Do I really want to be here? Everyone keeps saying this is hard... do I really want to do that to myself? I could totally quit and go to beauty school and just start a salon and that would be great." Haha. It seems ridiculous that after making getting here my goal for the last 3 - 4 years I would have doubts now. It seems like it's more panic than actual doubt, mixed in with some lingering disbelief. Prior to getting the phone call that changed my life, I was pretty comfortable lounging around my parents' place in San Jose, looking for a job, and possibly another career plan if I didn't want to reapply to med schools (which I didn't).

I am excited though. I really did miss studying over the last year, so it'll be good to see how I fare after so much time off. And learning things would be cool too.

The Personal Statement

Now that I am in, I'm ready to share =) Enjoy!

I have an assertive voice and ready hands. Where I come from, women are quiet and their hands are bound with chores. My family comes from Punjab, a state in northwest India, the homeland of the Sikhs. Punjab is blemished with the most skewed gender ratio of any state in the country, because girls there are stigmatized as black-hole investments who offer nothing to their parents. Many resort to sex-selective abortion or female infanticide to avoid raising daughters. Of the girls who make it, many suffer abuse, and only few receive equal access to health care and education. I am one of those few. I have become aware that I have opportunities, abilities, and aspirations that many others do not. Since that realization, I have resolved to speak for the silenced, and show by example that Punjabi women can make significant contributions to society.

As a young girl, I participated in national level speech competitions, and developed confidence and a deep knowledge of the Sikh religion and its history. I published two articles about significant people in Sikh history in India Today Magazine. My role then became instructional: I taught young children at a Sunday school in San Jose, counseled at youth camps, and designed and conducted workshops about community service and gender roles at conferences for young adults across the country. Such close interaction with children and young adults taught me patience, and improved my ability to relate to people of different ages. I raised awareness and sparked dialogue about the rampant domestic and sexual abuse, poor access to health care and education for females in the Punjabi Sikh community. As a result, at least one more girl can now pursue her dreams. Reena wanted to be a doctor, but her parents wanted her to get married and settle down. After we met, she adopted me as a mentor and role model. She then convinced her parents that she can pursue her career and still have a fulfilling family life. Now, as she prepares for the MCAT, she enjoys a deeper relationship with her family. I took this cause global when I reached out to the largest transport organization in India for its collaboration in a massive publicity campaign against misogynist practices. The All India Motor Transport Congress controls 4.5 million trucks and buses. Using the vehicles as billboards, I am heading a project to design posters portraying positive images of females to advocate gender equality.

My desire to serve extends beyond the Punjabi community. In 2005, I traveled to Biloxi, Mississippi with a group of volunteers to help lay the groundwork for rebuilding after Hurricane Katrina. With untrained hands and eager hearts, we gutted low-income houses strewn with broken glass, upside-down sofas, overturned refrigerators swarming with pests, water lines eight feet high, and black mold blanketing walls and ceilings. My heart churned as we disposed of torn photo albums, damaged Bibles, and homework assignments. Knowing that my hands helped rebuild the lives of real families fulfilled me in a way that is different from speaking to audiences. I am excited that with the proper training in medical school, my hands will work to heal people’s illnesses.

In line with my professional aspirations, I also volunteered at the University of California, Davis (UC Davis) Medical Center emergency room (ER). I recognized the physical and emotional needs of the patients, and the compassion and skill that doctors bring to the table. I observed severe trauma patients and assisted doctors with procedures like applying splints and sutures. Between tasks, I talked to doctors, medical students, and patients about their experiences and various procedures. My most fulfilling experiences were with the patients. I remember an elderly woman: dried blood encrusted her face and hands, and a large laceration parted her scalp. As I washed her face and hands, she shared her troubles with me, released a sigh of relief, and smiled. I was privileged to feel, for a few moments a day, the special relationship that only doctors and patients share.

I have tried to make my life count for something, but I am just getting started. At UC Davis, my contact with medical professionals and patients motivated me to focus and improve my grades. Taking first-year courses alongside medical students in the Boston University Master of Arts in Medical Sciences program convinced me that I can succeed in medical school. While I will always fight for the status of women, I want a more immediate role in leaving this world a better place than I found it. As a physician, I will empower my patients with good health, and for some, give them another chance at life. Only a career in medicine offers relationships as meaningful as with the children at camps, participation as heartfelt as in Biloxi, the opportunity to ease pain as in the ER, and the credential to amplify my voice for human rights. I want to be an outstanding physician, and I have what it takes. If given the opportunity, I promise to bring honor, dedication, and integrity to the profession. You will be proud.

Leaps of Faith

So, this year has been full of my life not going as planned. Not living where I thought I would be, not doing what I thought I would be, not accepted where I thought I would be. There is more, but the bottom line is that nothing is as I hoped. Don't click away yet - this post isn't a rant. Incoherent and disjointed, perhaps, but not a rant.

The very first professor I worked for said to me, regarding future PIs: "It's okay to fall once in awhile, as long as you pick something up off the ground before getting back up." As you can tell, this can easily apply to other things in life.

I spent the majority of my time since September in a rut. Lost weight, gained it back, gained some extra, did a lot of whining, ate a lot of cheese with that whine... and what not. I've learned to just let it go. Until now I've been so caught up in this "life is about the journey" bullshit that I planned out each step of the journey so that it'd give me exactly what I want. But that doesn't work. I think it's best for me to just keep a bigger picture in mind, and take life day by day to go towards that goal. As far as the details, I guess I just have to take a leap of faith. Like that? Clever, isn't it? Incorporating the title into the post like that? Yeah?... quite clever indeed.

Anyway, now that I've come to this obvious realization, I am comfortable with it. My academic decisions so far (major, medicine, and decision to pursue grad school) were complete leaps of faith. In all cases, I had no idea what to expect and wasn't concerned with negative consequences. They just felt really right at the time, and nothing stood out as terribly wrong with them. These were also some of the best decisions in my life. I'm sure there are other decisions that I just didn't think through at all that turned out horribly... those were leaps of stupid, not faith.

It feels good though. Looking into the giant question mark that is my future less than three months from now, it feels good telling myself, "Whatever works out will be good," and actually believing it.

The Beauty of Discontent

I voted for the first time today. Makes me feel very American... go figure.

My mom and I were watching TV the other day, and in the midst of the commercials for various weight loss products, hair products and makeup, my mom said, "Look at how bad they have to make people feel about themselves so that they can do business. It's terrible."

Instinctively, I responded that the companies are simply taking advantage of the American mentality: we can always do better. We can always achieve better. We can always be better. A corollary is that we are not good enough now. Spend enough time thinking about that, and it paints a pretty ugly picture. Inadequate. Unaccomplished. Overweight. Unattractive. Just not good enough as we are now. Leave it to the media, and the solutions lie in the amount of money you are willing to spend, and the chemicals you are willing to put into your body. On a larger scale, with all of the debates between presidential candidates, there is definitely a common thread in all of the issues they address. I think we've heard all of them say, "We need to fix this broken system" for just about every 'system' there is, from education to health care to immigration to whatever else. Why is everything broken in this country? We are the youngest, brightest, wealthiest country in the world. But our citizens are too fat and have better access to McDonald's than to the doctor who does their bypass surgeries. Every system is broken.

I went to the gym today after a long time. Specifically, I attended a yoga class for the first time. There was a range of people in there: the instructor was probably a couple of years younger than me, and I was seated diagonally behind a senior woman. There were even a few guys in the class. And definitely a range of body types. People were there for all different reasons, from all different lifestyles and walks of life, but they had one thing in common: they were working to make their lives better. Whether to increase flexibility and agility, get some meditative minutes in the day, or improve focus and control over breathing: each person was working towards a goal. This is where I saw the beauty of America.

No matter where you stand with respect to your goals and dreams, and no matter how large or small those dreams are, there are avenues for change available if you have the heart to take them. And people do. There is a profound dignity in that. To not only say, "Yes, I can be better," but also take action - however small - to achieve.

This year off gives me a lot of time to think. And make change. I have some ideas of what I want to do... let's see what happens.

Happy 2008

I have been back from India for almost two weeks now. It is good to be back. My trip, though rewarding, was also kind of terrible. My mom and I got sick while we were out there, and coming home to recover was definitely, definitely what we needed. Mom was in much worse shape than me, and thankfully she is better now. She had us worried for a bit.

Anyhow, so now I am basically sitting around waiting for interviews. I have gone to two so far, and have another one coming up later this week. Studying for these interviews is somewhat fun... reminds me of the stuff I spent so much time studying in college and grad school. Finding the best way to articulate why I want to be a doctor and looking up the opportunities and resources different institutions offer are re-igniting the excitement of medicine for me... losing sight of that has been easy in the midst of living at home and working on this India project, which has been entirely unrelated to medicine so far. Now, all I need to do is get in somewhere.

Living at home is starting to get easier. My parents are cool about me going out pretty much whenever I want, which is really nice. Dad and I definitely still have our moments. Here is the thing with that: before, not only was I not living at home, but Dad was not nearly as vocal of his opinions. He was pretty easy-going... he would go to work, come home, and basically just chill. My brother and I were talking about this, and we both agree that all of a sudden he just started saying more stuff... really came out of left field. So we are getting to know him all over again, and it's a trip, but hopefully a lot of good will come out of it. He kind of suddenly decided that he wants the role of authoritative man of the house, so it doesn't really occur to him to ask my opinion or for clarification for something I'm doing (sometimes it doesn't occur to him to let me finish a sentence)... but we are working on that.

So, each new year for the past couple of years, my resolution has been to become more patient. I think God heard that one a little too clearly: my patience was tried more and more as time went by. This year, I am making no such resolution. I think I'm plenty patient. Now, I think perseverance will be a good goal for me to achieve. I have a few things on my plate between the India project and med school apps/interviews, and persevering will really pay off in making sure both of those are successful.

Here's to a happy new year.

BHEN for All: Offical Launch January 3rd, New Delhi, India

So I am in India these days. I came here on a little bit of a whim. I have been working on a project for the last few months or so: a visual campaign in the form of posters displayed on commercial trucks and buses to promote gender equality and access to health care and education for females in India. A mouthful, I know, but read it again if you have to and it'll make sense. Anyway, so I partnered with All India Motor Transport Congress (AIMTC), the largest transport company in India (as in the largest number of vehicles; 4.5 million, to be exact), and they called me around mid-December saying they were ready to launch on January 3rd.

Before that date, we had a lot of things to set into motion: I had to finish poster designs, put pressure on my good ol' buddy Paul to finish the website, we had to get samples printed in the States to take to India for mass-printing (since it is so cheap, and decisions about dimensions and materials hadn't been finalized), and we had to meet with people to get the printing done before the 3rd. Thankfully, it all happened. We printed four sample posters and decided to use three of them after meeting with the company officials, and we printed 1,000 sets of three posters each for distribution. For now, they are in English, but they will be printed in other languages very soon. Every two to three years, AIMTC holds a convention in which the new president of the company is inaugurated and managers from all over India get together and discuss any issues they need to handle. The launch of this project was held during this convention; I gave a five or seven minute talk on the issues of female infanticide and sex-selective abortion, their implications, and what I was asking of the transport managers.

I have never in my life spoken to such an audience. I sat on a panel of middle-aged men who were chairmen and other important administrators of AIMTC, another keynote speaker, and the transport minister of India, Mr. T.R. Balu. Note, I was the only female on the panel, and the only individual below 35 years of age. My audience was about 200 men also, and a few of their wives sprinkled in the mix. An American-born Indian girl speaking before a 90% male crowd, sitting on a panel of men too. I thought I might feel awkward but I was actually quite comfortable. I spoke in English because, well, functionally that is all I can speak coherently. I tried to speak slowly, and honestly I am not sure how many people understood what I was saying, but by the response I received I know it was definitely more than I could have hoped for.

People were so enthusiastic to spread this message. Even before I spoke to the AIMTC managers, my uncle set up a talk with the local branch of the Lion's Club, a service-oriented society that actually originated in Chicago, which has dedicated this month to raising awareness about female infanticide and sex-selective abortion. It seems that many people here know about the issue and recognize that the deeper problem lies in the way Indians think, and not the acts which are the outcome of that thinking. That people are just waiting for an opportunity to get involved is such a relief, and has definitely made my trip a gratifying experience. I think the next 10 - 15 years will show great progress for India's society. It won't be enough time for all of the wrinkles to be ironed out, but it'll be something, and I am excited to see what the future holds.

Ugh.

I hate living at home. Every other person I run into asks, "So aren't you glad to be out of the terrible East Coast weather, and back home? Eh? Happy to be home???" No, you idiots, I'm not.

I learned that Dad has problems with the clothes I wear. I dress like a brazen hussie, I am cheapening myself by the way I choose to dress, and my presence irritates him when I wear "such clothing". I wear t-shirts. Like Hanes and Fruit of the Loom. I keep my party clothes in a gym bag in the trunk of my car because I know those will offend my parents, but t-shirts? Seriously? Ugh. As if it's not already ridiculous enough that I have a Masters degree and hide clothing in my car, apparently t-shirts are too risque for this home. Where's a burqa when I need one?

Dad told me the other day as I was going to dance practice that I am wasting my life. For the last month, I've been unpacking, working on secondaries, going to the gym, applying for jobs, helping my mom with her publishing company, and developing some volunteer opportunities. And yes, one day a week I go to dance practice. How wasteful of me; I mean really, I should just ditch all of those useless things, stand by his side and see what he needs every minute of every day. That'll be good use of my time.

Living here also makes me never want to get married. In all honesty, my mom's life sucks. Each weekday, she wakes up around 5:30, gets ready for work, leaves by 7:15, and stays there until 5:30 or 6. When she gets home, sometimes she has time for a half hour nap, then she starts making dinner. By the time dinner is done and everything's all cleaned up, it's usually about 9:30. Then she goes to her computer and works on either Khalsa School stuff, book orders, or grades some papers. This takes her to about midnight, when she goes to bed. The weekends lately have been even worse with getting Khalsa School stuff put together; somehow, she manages to accommodate everyone's requests in terms of matching teachers with students and students with other students. Not easy for a school with 80 volunteers and 500+ students, but she does it. In that time, she also does laundry, makes 2 - 3 meals for the day, and on Sundays she manages Khalsa School from about 1 pm - 5 pm. Now here's the part where being married sucks: my dad doesn't help her with any of that stuff. The way he sees it, he's like "Her choice to get involved, her problem." I think his exact words were, "She gets so stressed by these other little things, she can't handle her duties at home." I damn near flipped my shit when he said that. As if it's below him to help out a little bit here and there? The hell is that? God help the man who sits on his ass when I come home from a long shift at work and am too tired to cook. And I think Satan would take better care of him than I would if he dared talk to me about my "duties at home." I mean, I already know that between my job and the volunteer stuff I want to do, I will be very busy. On top of that, taking care of bratty kids (if they are anything like me, they will be), an unhelpful husband, and aging in-laws... I would just hate my life. If married middle-aged life is anything like what my parents have, I don't want it.

Until recently, I thought my dad was one of the more progressive Punjabi parents because of how much he's encouraged my education and supported my wanting to go to medical school. Living at home, however, from his forcing me to move back here to just seeing how he is at home and with my mom, definitely fostered some resentment for him. I feel bad feeling that way because he has given me everything I have and supported me fully, but I honestly can't help it.

Moving used to be the start of something new in my life. Either a new neighborhood, new school year, or a new city; this time I got nothing. It feels like two steps backwards. Home used to be a place where I could retire from the world and unwind. Here, I can't wear what I want, eat what or when I want, watch TV before midnight when everyone's asleep, and I can't do what I want without running my plans by someone or asking permission. I want to move out, and I really want one of the jobs in San Francisco I applied to to work out, but so far nothing has come through. I got a couple of local opportunities, but those won't help my situation. I am bitter that my dad forced me to move here especially because it's harder for me to find a job, and I really, more than ever, cannot wait to go to medical school.

Liberating.

That's the one word I will use to describe the year I've spent in Boston. Looking back, I think college allowed me to figure out what kind of person I want to be, and gave me the foundation and strength to discover what kind of person I am. When I left UC Davis, I was confident about my future and insecure about my present. It's scary, not knowing where you'll be, what you're capable of, what kind of people are your people, who you can trust, how vulnerable you can make yourself without being weak, and who will turn around and judge you and betray your trust. So I graduated college thinking: trust no one, don't expect anything from anybody, and do your best. You're all you've got.

Once I got out here, it took awhile for this new place to warm up to me. New people, new locals, a whole new feel, new school, new home, new everything. In fact, I think I took the entire first semester getting used to life out here before I thought about venturing out of my shell. Here's my perception of where I stand now: I am confident that I can do well in medical school. This wasn't the case before - I didn't really apply myself in college to the point where I focused on school and school alone; by the time I got serious I had a million other things to do. I came here, I did my best, and it paid off. I finished my coursework and my thesis in 11 months. I can't express how empowering that is. I mean I knew I was smart but this year was such a great stroke to my ego... haha, I am so into myself right now. Really, feel free to stop reading if you like; I won't be offended. However, a more significant discovery is my new-found comfort in vulnerability. I have been very, very fortunate with the people who surrounded me this year. They have been the most accepting, understanding, and non-judgmental people I have ever met in my life. Lately I've found myself sharing things with people I'm not incredibly close to that I usually wouldn't share with anyone at all, and I don't mind it. Hopefully my dear friends don't mind listening to me pour my heart out all the time... so far they have been great sports, and I appreciate that more than anything.

So, I still don't know where I will be. I always felt I was capable of anything, but now I really believe it. My people are honest, warm, in love with laughter, and generous with their affection. I still don't always know who I can trust or how vulnerable I can be without being weak, but there is only one way to find out. And in the end, I have learned to find strength in weakness. I am better about trusting my instincts and taking action based on them, and I believe that will serve me well in my future. I haven't learned to not have expectations. When it comes down to it, I am intense with the people who I allow to be close to me, and I build expectations for them. They should be straightforward and direct with me, and ready to drop everything in their lives for me in times of need as quickly as I would for them. They should accept my random humor and the occasions (which seem to be increasing in frequency) when I share way too much information, and always be happy to see me. Always. I don't think I will ever be able to change that, and I am positive that it will be the source of great emotional pain and disappointment for me throughout my life. But the rare few who can handle and fulfill my great expectations make it worth it.

If it isn't obvious enough, I am in a good place right now. My lonely spell hasn't ended yet; I miss the intimacy and comfort that relationships offer, but whatever. Things happen when and how they are meant to, and I don't see any reason why I should be left out there... so I will wait and see what happens. It's a process, learning how to live in the moment. Hasn't been easy figuring out how to do it, but I am trying, and that's what counts.

I am leaving Boston in nine days. I leave here thinking: trust whoever feels right, put as many expectations as desired, and always do my best. Sunshine always comes with shadows, so I just have to learn to find enjoyment in both. At the end of it, I am all that I've got, but whoever wants to join in for the ride, by all means hop on board. At the very least, I can promise you some great dining =).

American Airlines Strikes Again!!

I don’t know how they do it, but American Airlines manages to get worse and worse. If my flight isn’t cancelled, my luggage is lost. If my luggage isn’t lost, my flight is delayed and I’m stuck in the terminal. If I’m not stuck in the terminal, I’m stuck in the plane. That’s where I am now. Thanks, Dad. Thanks a lot. Apparently the weather is bad in Chicago, which is where my flight to San Jose connects. Apparently… My flight was delayed by about one hour for no reason, and after we boarded, they told us it would be another 2 hours. Just classic. So now I'm sitting in the plane waiting for them to say that we can take off... Call me a priss, or a brat, or a princess (preferably), but I’m totally throwing a hissy fit next time Dad tries to save money on my fare. Direct flights only. If it’s too much money, either a) shoulda planned better or b) dammit, I’m worth it.

My entire voyage lasted 14 hours. I spent three hours at the airport in Toronto, from arrival to boarding, three and a half hours on the plane from Toronto to Chicago (it's a one hour flight), three hours at the Chicago airport, four hours on the plane to San Jose, and about half an hour waiting for my suitcase to come out of baggage claim. To think, if I had a direct flight, it could've been a 7 hour process... I am so going shopping with the money saved, I deserve it!

Kiss My Ass, American Airlines

I really hate this airline. And I’m no fan of Dad’s for making me fly on it this evening. Between flights delayed by no less than two hours, lost luggage, miserable food available for purchase, and the painful Jewel music playing in the terminal, American Airlines leaves much to be desired. I haven’t flown this airline for more than a year now, and I regret that I am on it once again. I mean really… 240 cities, 40 different countries, one airline, and one poor standard of service. If JetBlue can afford to be amazing, I don’t see why American can’t. I got here a little before 6 to catch a flight to Toronto scheduled at 8 PM. Then I found out my flight is delayed until 10 PM. The only thing that I am enjoying is this rocking chair situated facing the windows so I can see planes taking off. And these were no gift of American Airlines, they are courtesy of MassPort. (_|_) That’s for you, AA. Whenever you’re ready, the country’s been waiting.

So my flight didn't board until 10:30, and then we sat in the plane for another half hour. AND I got no water!!! American Airlines consistently keeps me at the airport longer than the airplane, regardless of the length of my flight. Fabulous. Just fabulous.

Blindness

I'm going to preface this post with a disclaimer: I'm on Sudafed and Nyquil and it's a little late...

I'm starting to realize how blind my culture is. I'm referring to Punjabi, or even generally Indian culture. Sure, these are huge generalizations, but for the most part I think they hold true.

We believe blindly. So many of us claim a religion without knowing much about it. I know so many Sikhs who appreciate the peace of mind that comes with listening to kirtan and Gurbani without knowing what it means, and who don't care to know what it means. So many people who have faith that some higher power will take care of them, regardless of the circumstances, who practice various rituals believing that the simple acts will yield some sort of benefit. I guess to an extent every faith must be blind, but I feel like Sikhs, as seekers of truth, would strengthen their faith in the discovery of that truth and meaning that we hold so dear. But many don't.

We listen blindly. Just look at all of the Indians in medical school. I am positive that a huge number of those are responding to parental pressure. Sure, there are some (like myself, tee hee) who genuinely want to be doctors... but let's face it, of you Indians reading, how many of you didn't have parents who said, "Beta, think about medical school. I think it's a good idea." And then think about how many Indian med students you know...

We hate blindly. Our people are great at hating by association, holding grudges for things in the past... I mean, I know people who still don't like Muslims because of what happened during the Mughal rule in India. Or other people who don't like Hindus because of 1984. It's ridiculous, I know, but it's quite prevalent. And of course there's the sister of that girl who dogged the cousin of a close friend of mine, so of course I don't like her (what??).

We love blindly. Maybe this is very bollywood of me, but I feel like Indians, when they are ready to love, are able to look past everything negative in the object of their affection. This is something I see particularly in Indian women: the extent to which mothers baby their children (well into adulthood), girlfriends smother their boyfriends, and what not. They're bred to nurture. The concept of arranged marriages also falls into this one. Two people meet a couple of times, decide they like each other enough and tie the knot. It just seems insane; all they know is that there's some attraction there, and both of them want to get married at some point in the near future... and that's all they need. Having grown up in America during this time, that concept is extremely foreign, but I have to admit that there's a certain beauty in its simplicity.

Our people, generally, are good at ignoring the voice of reason. In my case, that voice isn't completely silenced, but I definitely pretend I don't hear it now and then. Like now, for example, I have loads of work to do on my thesis and I'm wasting my time rambling on this post.

I think it's very interesting how cultures can be so very different, and still work. American culture, on the other hand, emphasizes knowing the whole truth before you make a commitment. You read the fine print before you sign, you drive the car before you buy it, you take up internships and talk to counselors before you decide on a career, you date and get involved in a relationship before you marry; commitment is the last thing to happen. And I think it's even more interesting to see how kids in my generation who live in both cultures reconcile the differences. I think I'm still trying to figure out my balance between the two... for the most part, I like to think that I lean towards American thinking and want to know exactly what's going on before I'm in too deep. But other times, there's an excitement in taking a leap of faith and just hoping things will work out. That seldom happens, and usually I fall flat on my face. But each time I don't get back up without picking something up while I'm down. And that makes it okay. I think it's okay to be blind as long as you see more clearly when you open your eyes.

One year...

So it's been about a year since I graduated from UC Davis. It feels like it's been a year. The time hasn't flown by, nor has it dragged on.

Moving across the country definitely changed a lot of things in my life.

- For the first time since 1999, my brother and I lived within 10 miles of each other. This is one of my favorite things. Before this year, he and I never really hung out as friends, and that definitely changed. Even though my brother and I are vastly different, we definitely bonded this year and I'm thankful for that.

- I learned what good sushi tastes like. And good food in general. I don't think I can ever go to a chain restaurant again.

- For the first time EVER, the vast majority of my friends are not Punjabi. In fact, I only have one Punjabi friend at school. And he's not even that Punjabi. It's great being around people who don't always run late and who don't say one thing and mean another. But I also miss having people to dance with, having people to talk to in Punjabi when I want to talk some smack about someone in the room, and just having that Punjabi/Sikh perspective on the things that happen here.

- I thought I lived at the library during my last year at Davis... oh boy, here it's like my tuition is my rent. Except I'm paying rent too. Seriously, I'm at that place way too much. I've made friends there, and we're just one big studying family.

- I've been dancing bhangra since 1991, and of course competed all through college. This was my first year out of the scene. I haven't been to a bhangra competition since Nachda Punjab 2006 (more than a year ago!). Right now, my main motivation to go back to California is so I can rejoin my bhangra team. I miss them dearly. Dancing was such a big part of my life, and all of a sudden, once I graduated from college it just disappeared. I've tried to compensate by watching their videos and learning the routine by myself... but it's not as much fun alone.

- I have nothing going on outside of school. No internships, no volunteer gigs, no dancing, no job. Nothing. Just school.

- I'm a graduate student... what??? I swear I'm an eight year old mentally... I really get the sense that I'm growing up. That sounds so lame.

All in all it's been a great experience. I'm contemplating staying out here this coming year while I apply to medical schools. Why, you ask? It's probably going to be the only year where I am both not in school AND single. I don't want to spend that living at home. Also, it would be the first time that I carry a full time job and pay for my own existence. That thought is exciting. And it also might be the last time that my brother and I live in the same city, since he's graduating from law school next year and I don't know where I will be. Anyway, I have about 10 days left in what's been the longest academic term of my life, and I can't wait for it to end. After that, I will consider my decision more seriously...

I think God reads my blog.

I really do. Since yesterday's post, it feels like things have taken a positive turn. I think part of it is verbalizing all my feelings and putting them on the table - translating emotions into words really helps me understand them, personally. But aside from that, I mentioned in yesterday's that praying hasn't offered any peace of mind. Today, it was like a breath of fresh air. Feels good to be on the way back... I hope it stays.

You know it's bad when the dungeon is your home...

Alright, so after writing this post I realize how whiny and "woe is me" it is, but realize that I typed it all out to straighten things out in my own mind. That said, if you're not in the mood to read my whining, don't.

I have no idea what’s going on in my mind these days. Alright, I have some idea, but denial is a lot more comforting than admitting it right now. Recently I’ve found myself insecure about how I come across to other people, unsure of myself during exams despite relentless studying, stressed and upset when I think about the future, and generally speaking a lot of negativity. I feel distracted, though I have nothing going on outside of school. I’ve been trying to pray to center my mind, but I can’t get focused on that either. I think a lot of this stems from the fact that as soon as I step off of this dungeonesque campus, I’m alone. I live in a neighborhood where being very social isn’t always very safe, and come home to a roommate who I neither like nor relate to. So what’s left? Maybe I’ll walk around the mall for a bit on my own. A couple of days a week I’ll go to the aerobics room at the gym and dance by myself. Or sit in my room and watch a movie, or some TV programs I recorded. Or talk to some friends online, maybe even the phone. Eventually grab a meal – either put something together from what’s at home or get take out from somewhere. I spend most of my day in an environment where talking too much is rude or there’s no time to talk, and then go to another where there’s no one to talk to. Let’s be honest, that’s kind of depressing.

What about my friends here? It’s like I’m everyone’s second choice – if not third or fourth – for company. People don’t seem to mind having me around, but my company is not quite necessary either. I’m expendable. This elicits two reactions: first, I appreciate the time I do have with the people whose company I enjoy. Second, I don’t want to go out of my way for people who spend time with me out of convenience. The latter of these two is egotistical and potentially destructive, I know, but otherwise I’d feel way too pathetic.

At the same time, I don’t know if I’m ready to really be at the top of someone’s list, in the sense of dating someone or otherwise becoming romantically involved. It’s really sad: I haven’t had an overall positive experience from anyone I’ve gone out with in college, or since then. No, this isn’t a huge number, but it’s enough to make a person think twice. It’s been the same theme throughout: I sought companionship, he sought sex (or other physical intimacy that I wasn’t ready for), he didn’t get what he wanted, therefore I didn’t get what I wanted. At the end, no one was happy and I felt betrayed. It really sucks, and I don’t want to put myself through that again. I just don’t.

So now I’m at a point where there is a line drawn that marks how close I can get to someone. Few people have crossed this line and stuck around, and I love them for it. I really want to erase this line, but I just don’t see how I can do that. I’ve fallen in love with consistency: once someone comes into my life it’s really difficult for me to let go, or let him or her come in and out at will. I never thought consistency was too much to ask, however, if all people were consistent in everything they do, we’d just be robots. I feel like a robot, and I am consistently alone. This isn’t what I wanted. Till now I’ve been thinking that good things come to those who wait, but honestly I’m sick of waiting and I’m growing impatient. I gotta get outta this; I'm long overdue for the good feelings in life.

I'm not that badass.

I’m not all that I make myself out to be. Yesterday, I came very close to what could have been a threatening situation, and the fact of the matter is that I wasn’t prepared for it. I was walking to the gym with one of my girl friends around 6:30 (it was still light outside), and some random man came behind us and asked my friend, “Excuse me, how much was that anklet you’re wearing?”

She nervously answered, “Uhh, about $5.” We continued walking.

But he didn’t stop talking. “Can I touch it?”

“No, I don’t want to take it off.” We continued walking. He mumbled something about her not having to take it off, and stayed behind us. At this point I was on medium alert. I paid attention to the distance between us and him, and kept the volume of our conversation low so that I could listen to what he was doing. As we passed part of the hospital, I asked my friend if she knew the indoor route to the gym (I knew it existed, but didn’t know what it was). She said she didn’t remember it, so we’d take it on the way back. I heard the man say on his cell phone that he was headed to his own place, and that gave me a temporary sense of relief. We crossed the street, he crossed the street right behind us. We turned the corner to go to the building, he turned the corner right behind us. High alert. I looked around, for that moment, the community was totally quiet. Usually a security guard sits at the entrance of the building with the gym in it, so I went in hoping to let security intervene and save the day. No security guard yesterday. At that entrance of the building, there are only two choices: elevator or stairwell. No offices or hallways of any kind. We opted for stairwell. As soon as we started up the stairs, he started grabbing at her ankles. Missing at first, but grabbing all the same. At one point he grasped her ankles, she was hitting him and I was trying to pull her away from him. My mind seriously blanked: the only thought I had was that she needed to be out of his reach, and it was already too late for that. Eventually she freed herself, we ran up the stairs and he gave up. We made it to the gym safely. Shocked and shaken, but safe.

Now, in retrospect, this situation was absolutely preventable:
When I first came to Boston, my roommate had already been in this neighborhood for awhile. As I was leaving to get a bite to eat one day, she saw the purse on my shoulder and said, “I would think twice about carrying that if I were you. The less attention you attract here, the better. Just put everything in your pockets.” I took her words seriously and to this day, when alone, I don’t carry a purse, and I keep my jewelry in my pockets until I either reach my destination or leave the ghetto. Thankfully I never found myself in a compromising situation. I should have noticed my friend’s jewelry and advised her similarly. However, I thought the buddy system made everything okay so I made nothing of it.

Second, I should have pushed harder to find the indoor route via the hospital. At that time it was too early for either of us to be convinced that he was following us, but better safe than sorry. A phrase ingrained into every American kid’s head from kindergarten, a phrase that my gut spoke at that time, and a phrase that I ignored. That was stupid of me. Plain stupid.

To top it all off, by the time I got to high alert I really had no clue what to do. The guy was way bigger than both of us; there was no way I’d be able to do anything more than piss him off. I didn’t know where to go, who to call, or what to do. I had no idea what to do. When I needed instinct to come through for me, it wasn’t adequate. Sure, it’s hard to maintain a sharp mind in an unfamiliar and threatening state, but that’s exactly why I shouldn’t have suppressed my gut feeling earlier.

I’m physically not made to fight. I’m sharp on my mind, not my fists. But a battle of wits wouldn’t fight off this guy in that stairwell. I’m kicking myself now for not listening to my instincts before it was too late, but I’m also extremely thankful that both of us were together at the time and that we both left the situation safely.

Thanks for the warning, Big Guy. This is a mistake I’m definitely not repeating.

Oh yea, readers, two things:
A) Don't be stupid like I was in this situation.
B) Don't for one second think that I'm scared to go outside. I'm not. I still believe that as long as people are cautious and travel intelligently, it's possible to live an absolutely safe life, even in Roxbury.