My Hyderabad Journal – The Origination.

A picture-in-picture in 106°F.

I had not visited India in two decades when I decided to visit twice the last two years. There are reasons unknown to many, partially to a few, and in entirety to just me. At least, at this point in my life, I am blessed with two that are in closest proximity that give me unwavering support, lend me a shoulder when I wish to grieve independently, push me to do my best no matter how hard thibgs are, and never misunderstand what I have become.

When I was younger and in relationships that I didn’t quite comprehend, I remember not being able to emote in the open due to fear of backlash, somehow was defined by others on whether I was a good person or not, who I called friends called dibs on how to treat me on a dailu basis, and kith and kin who made it their mission to make their words no less than daggers.

So, why did I not visit Hyderabad, India, where I was born and raised?

I wanted to heal. And, do so on my own terms away from what reminded me of the pain, turbulence, and sadness. In those 20 years, I built myself bit by bit with resilience and remembrance. It was hard because I couldn’t find some pieces and had to create some from scratch. Somehow, along the way, I became a better version of myself, the kind I came to love and respect deeply, both inside and out. Yet, there were traits that just couldn’t overcome.

To be able to be that wholesome person, I needed to go back to the roots. Just so, I could learn to forgive, not blame myself for how others treated me, build immutable bonds, and bury those that brought me down. With my previous trip, I achieved a fair amount, and with this last trip, I fulfilled all. There was a certain peace, energy, and balance that originated from dealing with the demons that resided within. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth the struggle.

Here are a few things I wish recount. After all, writing is cheaper than therapy. And, who doesn’t like to read some juicy details, although the points up sound boring.

😝 I am now clear on why I didn’t take knuckleheads along in my journey.

🥹 No one has the right to dictate who you mourn for and for how long.

👿 There is a special place in hell for the nefarious.

🥰 Don’t take too long to tell someone how much you love them.

💑 Home is where the heart belongs.

“As the plane soared into the crimson-streaked sky, carrying ‘me’ away from this enchanting land, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, knowing that ‘my’ adventures had only just begun, and the world was waiting eagerly to unveil its next hidden gem.”

Real Threat or Mental Illness?

This is a true story.

The last 4 weeks have been an internal turmoil, coupled with helplessness.

When a call for help came out of the blue from a childhood friend, I assumed it was related to the volunteer work I’ve been doing. I hadn’t spoken to them in decades, and when I did speak to them, it was nothing short of a movie based on espionage.

A narrative about domestic violence, their spouse also being a radical who was proselytizing their teenage child, all while working for anti-national elements and jeopardizing national security.

And that they’ve been on the run for fear of life, kidnapping, and other unimaginable atrocities. On top of that, they mentioned all protecting authorities have been bribed by their spouse.

Thanks to a mention of another dear friend, I saved myself a wild goose chase as a request for monetary help was involved. It is very uncharacteristic of me to have knee-jerk reactions, but I restricted them on all communication channels, even though it was gut-wrenching to hear they hadn’t eaten in a long time and have been lurking in unfamiliar territories.

After some preliminary sluething to get to our common friend, I was able to finally speak to them and get facts that were hard to digest. I don’t know if it was a relief or guilt knowing they had put the same restrictions on our friend who has been on the run after shelling a significant amount of money helping.

We had both contacted family members, who blocked us right after they mentioned they’re aware of our friend’s situation. That was the most weirdest part of this whole concern, and we are just unable to fathom why anyone’s family would ignore it, especially when one needs medical or moral support.

There are so many questions that are bothering me.

Why is our friend on the run instead of taking help from immediate friends and family?

If their narrative is true, why aren’t law enforcement bodies helping?

How does anyone have the kind of power to bribe all law enforcement bodies when it is a matter of threat intelligence?

Are they sick and need psychiatric help, and why are the family members’ mum?

How are they able to survive so many days without credit cards or cash? Is their story true, or are they conning us?

Is it our responsibility to ensure they are safe despite being clueless about what they are or what they’ve become?

I hope those next to their kin rise up the challenge of getting our friend the help and support they truly need. Because we are at the end of our rope!!

Found my heart

In shadows deep, where troubles lay,
My resilience and grace found its way.
Through stormy seas and darkened night,
Triumph emerged as a beacon bright.

Beneath the weight of life’s demand,
Hope prevailed with devotion quite grand.
In trials faced, my spirit has grown,
Blooming strength and adversity blown.

With every step through thorny maze,
I took my smile and defied haze.
For happiness is a choice to make,
In every dawn, a definite chance to take.

So I enjoy this dance in life’s ballet,
When struggles lingered, come what may.
The sun will set, the clouds will part,
In every beat, I always found my heart.

Jai Shri Ram

I was preparing for a major life enhacing surgery, or so it was for me on January 22nd, the same day as the Ram Mandir inauguration in Ayodhya. A monumental day for Hindu far rights, and not to deny the mammoth tourist value for Uttar Pradesh and India. Like Mecca for Muslims. Please don’t get your panties in knots because it is a sincere comparison. I saw articles, posts, and videos of jubilation, and couldn’t stop appreciating the esteemed sculpture.

When I lay in the post-op room and came to my senses after 9 hours, still probably hallucinating and in pain, I didn’t remember God. I didn”t remember my mother, my father, or friends. I could only see these angels in blue (nurses and technicians – doctors don’t count, I’m sorry) knowing exactly what to do because the Gal Gadot in me took the first flight out. I had in multifold pain that I underestimated and felt like a complete fool. And then I had my “Shri Ram” right in front of me checking his phone. To be fair, he rose to the occasion as a caregiver quite decently.

In an unrelated unfortunate incident, when I landed in a top-notch hospital while visiting India, the angels hovered around just the same but had these eyes that asked for something. It was something that I grew out of, grew away from. Giving favors for the job they must do in the first place. These are God-fearing pious professionals. For who and like, Ram Mandir has been fought rightly for and consecrated. The very first time, I tried to tip a nurse as a FOB, I was scorned upon. I had to shed that “habit” as quick as lightning.

But, tell me one thing? How is it ever going to fix the greed, demands, poverty, and pity that the billions in India continue to carry, and people like me continue to write capitalistic inspired bullshit with shackled policies, that clearly have forgotten the patriotism that moulded them (me) in the first place, and find great solace in watching Nationalistic jingoism. Seriousness aside, do watch Fighter if you have not drooled like a dog in a minute.

It must have been the best in the century for Sanatanis. Yet, my chickpea sized brain doesn’t still decipher how God’s memorializing will help those who pray to them. Instead of continuing to piss people off with my divergent, opinionated, and perhaps emotionless writings, I want to leave this one thought.

“The love of God should bind us, not blind us ! In the devotion of another soul, we reach the depths of our own. In the tears of another being, we perceive the anguish buried in our soul. We lift ourselves when we lift another and hurt ourselves when we hurt others. Our lives are entwined, and so are our souls.” I see God in the humans that I serve and those that are servinvg me. I hope Lord Shri Ram agrees with me. Rest, don’t matter.

In Love Again

I’m in love again, a dance of hearts,
Awakening dreams, where affection starts.
True friendship, like a soothing breeze,
Igniting a sorority, with sweet memories.

Colors brighter, in every hue,
A canvas painted, fondness anew.
Fluttering butterflies and the sunlight
In the embrace of whatever life might.

Shared laughter echoes, like a melody,
Our souls entwined, a sweet symphony.
Embracing moments, both big and small,
In infinite enchanting, boundless thrall.

Through highs and lows, a steady hand,
This journey together, mighty and grand.
As in a woven drape, with threads so fine,
I’m in love again, in all my shimmer and shine!

Social Media – The Ultimate Workout.

📸 Canva



In the curtain of life, where our hearts and minds crave connectivity whether we agree or not, social media stands as the virtuoso conductor of the symphony of laughter, knowledge, and occasional cat videos. Most of us have learned to brace, as we embark on a whimsical journey into the spectral reality of why social media is not just a time-sucking vortex but an unmitigated gym for our hearts and minds.

Picture this: a morning scroll through your social feed, your heart doing the lub-dub with each uplifting post, and your mind is enthralled in an infinite world of memes. It’s an absolute cardio for the soul! Who needs a morning run when you can chase the elusive emojis, burning calories with every tap of your preferred finger or thumb? Social media is the modern-day marathon for endorphin enthusiasts like me!!

Let’s dive into the intellectual thresholds of social platforms. Forget dusty encyclopedias (wink). Your quest for knowledge begins with a simple hashtag. From philosophy to cat psychology, the internet is a treasure trove of information – An eclectic university where your professor could be a penguin aficionado or a conspiracy theorist teaching you about the secret life hacks, cooking lessons, how to kill your spouse, or restricting a party pooper friend.

Do you need a mental workout? Enter the comment section – a playground for the cerebral gladiators. Engage in debates about the true color of the dress or the existential crisis of pineapples on pizza. It’s a battleground where wit is your sword, and memes are your shield. Who needs ingenuity of humans when you can decipher the enigmatic hieroglyphics of internet slang?

The cynics must realize now that the social media connects hearts across continents, turning the world into a global affection of sorts. Not everything is a treacherous love affair that breaks families. Witness heartwarming tales of long-lost friends reuniting through a friend request or a grandmother discovering digitization. It’s a true love story, where Cupid has upgraded to Wi-Fi.

If social media were a superhero, it would be the masked avenger saving hearts from boredom and minds from atrophy. So, next time someone questions the merits of your scrolling habit, remind them that you’re not just procrastinating; you’re sculpting a Michelangelo-worthy masterpiece of heart and mind health. Social media – where laughter echoes, neurons spark, and the like button is the applause for your intellectual prowess.

Unmasking Predators

There is a third definition of the word “grooming” – “The action of attempting to form a relationship with a child or young person, with the intention of sexually assaulting them.” I will stop here. Because there is more to it, but I don’t have the stomach to copy it. For all those who think I write “sad stories,” this one is for you, especially if you have a daughter. Even though when another parent in your friends circle with a daughter or son, the same age as your own child, particularly targets your child, to “groom” them, no matter how great a parent you are, you are rendered helpless. 

Unfortunately, these days, you can never know who your child is with on social media platforms and multimedia messaging applications. With the ability to send and receive messages, pictures, and videos without any parental controls because of disappearing features or whatever it might be, no snooping or counseling can sometimes prevent the unthinkable from happening. But, with some rare luck if you are able to detect something fishy, I hope you take action and give it your might to prevent a tragedy. Please listen to Amy’s podcast if you need first hand how that feels. I know the parents enough to assert – THEY TRIED.

Once the child turns 18, and God forbid they make a decision to walk out with their “groomer,” who probably earned their sympathy by sharing sob stories, or giving gifts unnecessarily, lavish dinners or secret conversations, or by exhibiting a certain vulgarity on the pretext of “love,” it’s a catastrophe that was awaiting to happen for a long time. Because these predators are smart, savvy, friendly, fit in anywhere, are influential, great story tellers, and can go any length to “capture” their quarry. 

October is Cyber Security Awareness Month. My goal this upcoming month and whenever I can is to share real stories dedicated to saving a child especially daughters from falling victims ignorantly or forcibly from what starts as a simple one-liners or a picture that seems harmless leading to a concoction of lies and cobwebs of captivity. I find myself thanking my Italian host parents a million times because they refused to send me with this man twice my age, in the middle of the night, posed as a mentor who wanted to co-write an article in his house. Both lies. His intentions were otherwise.

This is a time and age where trust is not trust anymore. People who live amongst us might be perverts, pedophiles, or proscribes. There is good in the world, but we need to inculcate the situational awareness amongst ourselves and our brood on when to take refuge in the support system and when to implore the law. Gone are those days when we only talk about the right and wrong touch. This is the time to safeguard our children from predators, ensuring their digital and physical worlds are safe. Together, we can create a safer world for all.

Tribute to a Wife

(Whose husband never had time for her till the day she died.)

In honor of a beautiful life now passed
A husband’s time, too fleeting, too fast
He was always absent, distant, and cold
But her love for him never grew old
She longed for moments, hours, and days,
To share her life in countless ways
But moments were like quick sand
She held on and still took his hand
Her patience and devotion were shining lights
Through lonely days and endless nights
Though seasons were scarce, she held the flame
With a love that just the same
In the last tribute he offers today
Hope he remembers how she found her way
Despite the eons lost, her love shall remind
It’s her forgiveness that’s one of a kind
In the end, their marriage was a flickering grace
That she endured without a grimace
Her heart should’ve been bound to his
But she died without that eternal bliss

HOA Presidency – A comical perspective

Being an HOA (Homeowners Association) Board President has been the most challenging vounteer role for me, but it also offered lessons. Here is my take on the comical aspects.

No communication is enough. It means no matter what you do, there will be a huge provocation to your competence. Finger pointing is quite normal. So, the faster one gets used to it, the better they’d mentally be.

Despite having decades of corporate training at conflict management and being successful at crucial conversations, having to navigate the plethora of personalities to resolve issues and instill common sense is herculean.

Not that the opposite person doesn’t realize their unreasonable behavior, but they have to do what they feel because, unlike HR governance at work, HOA policies are not strong enough and cost homeowner dollars. And they know that hack!

Inflation will go up, but HOA fees can never go up. Magically, the Board has to manage the overruns for years. But they’d want a cheaper trash company, a community swimming pool, a picketball court, all without increasing a single dime. Also, all violations must be ignored because that’s what a good HOA does.

Even friends turn foes when you’re the HOA President. I am sure there are many charismatic ones out there, but I am definitely not that. There is never an acknowledgment either, because I am meant to do things without gratitude. Heck, I am not even recognized as the HOA President most times.

No matter how much the world around us would evolve, nothing will change unless someone especially wants it for themselves. And God forbid, their “favorite” neighbor gets an approval that’s not in their favor. It is a barrage of snides, smirks at s lot in between the lines.

Overall, being an HOA Board President can teach you valuable skills in leadership, communication, and community management. But it is a thankless job. Nevertheless, self-inpiring.

“I love the idea of what America is. America is a bunch of people that do these incredible, thankless, selfless jobs that nobody really knows about that makes that American dream possible.” True, isn’t it?

The Power Of Prayers

In the solitude of my soul
I find a serenity so deep,
The power of prayers
And the untold they keep
The whispers to the universe
In moments of despair
In my darkest times
For the burden I bear.

These appeals are like rain
Falling gently on my life
Like a soothing balm
To heal my worries
To light my path ahead
When shadows mull
Through tough times
As beacons to my soul.

Prayers said for me
Are bridges to the heavens
Connecting my present
In an outpour of sincerity
Giving me strength and solace
For the trials I face
Echoing in my heart
That they will keep me safe

With that kindness
I’ve woven a tapestry
A testament to faith
In this life’s grand mystery
For in the force of their intent
I found the grit to cope
The power of your prayers
Is my infinity of hope.