One year down, forever to go…

It’s been a year. 23 April 2018 will be etched in my milestones forever.

We made it here. To Canada.


I never actually focused about where I would settle in my life. The place never actually crossed my mind to really think about. Hence, it made it easier for me to settle down in India soon after my marriage.

I had my concerns about staying in India. Too many to list. Let’s just say, it got to a point where, whenever we be driving up the Mehdipatnam bridge, I would look at the sky and say a silent earnest prayer to God, that someday, please make me drive this bridge ( it lead to the airport at the very end of it), only to fly away from this land forever. Please make me see that trip where I would go away from this place forever.

I read somewhere, and to this day I wholeheartedly believe, that a prayer made earnestly never goes unheard. There are always angels around who carry the prayer upwards.

God put me in that country for 6 years. For reasons I now understand. He wanted me to learn a lot of lessons in life, learn to identify different types of people and attitudes, cultures, lifestyle. All of it was so starkly different from how I was brought up. And hence, the yearning to make a change happened. But I never prayed for any place in particular.

I always loved the gulf. Saudi Arabia in particular. That’s all where I thought I wanted to be. But did not exactly yearn for it. My husband on the other hand, had his eyes set on Canada since the early months of our marriage. Or so I thought. He told me eventually that he wanted to move to the West since his teenage.

For me, the West was far fetched. I never even thought in the direction of how one would go there, live or do anything about it. I knew the Gulf like the back of my hand.

My husband tried his first attempt to Canada along with one of his friends, back in 2012. It did not work out. We were to be having our first baby together. We had bought our first car together. I was just learning the ropes of marital adjustment in a joint family.

He then tried his luck in Dubai and then in Qatar. Middle East was not cut out for his skill type. We then stopped trying for the Gulf. He did. I did not think much about moving anywhere yet. I made one visit to my parents home in Saudi Arabia with my daughter. It was just a one and half month trip and I was back home in India.

India was a huge challenge for me. But I kept going. Kept moving on. One fine day, in the middle of 2015, my husband began this process of Canadian PR visa processing. He decided that we both should be writing the IELTS exam. I had a solid Bachelors Degree and a wonderful job experience oversees. He had 9 solid years of experience in his industry along with a masters degree. And so I began the preparation for writing the exam. We both wrote it and we both aced it. Eventually we got the processing of our visa started. Our family wasn’t hopeful we would make it. They doubted our success. But then it happened.

On the September of 2017, our visas came in. My husband, me and our two kids. We had got the stamp to live and die in Canada forever. We had gotten the Golden Goose. The Canadian PR Visa.

We decided to fly out in April, to let out the snow season pass. Then came April. My father-in-law lost his parents at an early age. Hence, he was reluctant and super disappointed that we were flying away from him, and taking the kids with us too. For us, it was our future. Heartbreakingly though, we bid our families goodbye.

The journey to Canada and consequently this one year, was an eye opener. A huge block of learning for me. I got a lot of time on my hands to retrospect myself. To think who I actually am, what all I wanted out of life, what all I wanted to do for my kids. Everything. My equation with my husband. My life with him. My life with myself alone. Both of us got a better chance to parent our kids. We got closer to them. Understanding them better.

For the kids, they got into an amazing school, with amazing teachers and friends. They got a chance to play in the park in the open and breathe in fresh air with all green around them. They got to play in the snow. They got to play on the sand and water on the beach. They got a chance to have a great start at life. Almost all of it they would have been deprived of, had they been continuing back home. They miss their grandparents, their aunts and uncles, though. Every gain has a loss that comes with it. My husband and me are trying our best to make a vacation back home soon, so the kids can meet all the folks they have missed out.

Me? An Asian woman is separated from her parents and siblings the day she walks out of the marriage function hall with the groom and his family. To top that all, I lived in India for 6 years and my parents and siblings continued to reside in Saudi Arabia. I was stripped of their comfort for so long, it did not sting me much when I moved to Canada. Except, that my mom used to make atleast one trip every year to India, and once in a while dad used to come along too and I got to meet them. Sometimes my siblings came along with them too. This is the first full year without meeting anyone and I really miss mom.

Last met mom and my last 3 siblings 1 year ago. My dad, 2 years ago. And my brother, 6 years ago. We all are a close knit family. Whatsapp our medium of connection as always. But human warmth is a whole different thing. Still, I am used to loneliness and physical comfort deprivation. I am holding on. Moving on.

Canada has been a wonderful country since our arrival. I have made some new friends. Checked out a few places. Experienced all of the weather conditions. Loved every bit of it. Regret none of it.

It has been one year since….and forever many more to go…God listened to me on that bridge someday…and here I am….Thank you God.



Yay! Hubby has fixed the laptop issue.

Do I remember what I wanted to write though. Nope. Erased out of mind.

Last trimester symptoms. Forgetfulness. I live in bliss. I am learning to live carefree mostly. So okay, I forgot what all I wanted to say earlier.

I have moved back to listening to songs. It is a phase. It will pass. Right now though, I am having fun, being carefree.

Maybe I should leave my laptop ready up in a position where I just need to press the power button, on this table side. Given a canvas, I can paint with my words. I love doing that. Writing, expressing, letting go.

Life does this eerie thing. Gives you bouts of sunshine, then sprinkles it with thundering snowstorms of problem. Some that are soul shaking. I had a meltdown two nights ago. Something he said. And my mind made a mountain of that molehill. Morning came and we swept that away.

Seek bliss. It is so good. Being carefree. Not thinking too much. Not feeling too much. Not holding on to anyone but self. Loving the self. Giving peace to the self. I did that. I made it feel okay for me to make mistakes, to forget, to do something in a wrong way, to say something that wasn’t meant to or impolite or that required less thought. I forgave myself. I said that okay I have done it. Now what. Move on. It has helped me loads. It has helped me take baby steps back to building myself.

Also no matter how detached I have made myself from my spouse, he still carries my heart around with him. I had put him before me, even before the kids. Wrong move. Now I gave each one of us the due place. All in line. No one ahead or behind. So much mental and spiritual peace. If he hurts me with his words or action, it does not destroy me so much. It does cause an earthquake within me. But it is easier now to stand back up and move on. God taught me one awesome trick. To find the knacks in repetitive events, actions and content. That’s what I did. I learnt what brings peace to me in times of turmoil. Silence. Does wonders. I love him. I always will. Just maybe not with all that gush and gusto. Unwillingly, not at all by own will, but just because of things he did and said, I had to make him climb down that ladder I placed him high upon. I used to be a hopeless romantic. Too gentle, too fragile. Nope. I have encased myself. Build those walls. Enclosed. He does remind me sometimes of how I used to be different. Nope buddy. Not going there again. Not doing that again. We are amazing this way. I look at you with the exact intensity you look at me. It is working. Wonders. Lets walk on this way.

On another note, my son is hearing great. All thanks to God. He is also now speaking smoothly in Urdu, and his English is picking up smooth. I just love his cute accent. He has become quite naughty and as boyish as a boy of his age could be. Charming!

My relationship with my daughter is working out better now. I have reprimanded myself as much as I can to be gentle with her. It worked out fine. I no longer yell at her or even try to hit her. We give each other hugs frequently. I don’t know why I used to push her away when she used to try to hug me. Now I am trying to hold her as close to me as I can. She does have some really annoying habits which keep adding faster than lessening. I try hard to explain to her in a loving way without messing up her self esteem.

Forward on…

Time passes.

Mine did. I was able to let go of the pent up anger in me. Nothing had been going my way. I got caught up in this messed up tirade of ungratefulness, annoyance and misguidance. I walked some paths of my being that I shouldn’t. But it helped. Helped to numb those unwanted senses.

As the snow and winter has subsided, the weather brightened up. My mood and my body feel so much better now. I got back my resilience. I am now able to gather myself up. Once again. Slowly. Piece by piece.

Canada is a beautiful country. Every street has its own charm and loveliness to it. My physical restraints stop me from exploring. I am also waiting to get a nice camera. Like a silly person, I left mine behind in India.

My phone, Samsung S6 Edge, has a good camera. But only for closeup pictures. Not scenic views and captures. It really frustrates me, I cannot paint, I forgot how to write poetry, I don’t have very good camera. There are so many scenes that cross me as I walk around town.

I am now prepping up to welcome a new family member next month. So many overwhelming emotions sweep me. The pros are that I do not have any mental stress that I had faced back home. Here, I can do things my way and my pace. But it is stressful. So I do not think about it anymore. I have put it up for the “Live in the now”.

Each time though, my mil keeps stressing about it on each call, emotionally taking me there again and again. Telling me she is constantly praying for me, for the ease in the birth and all that. God bless her. She prays for me. It is a good thing. The constant reminder of it though? It is like a huge bell toll to me.

Both my deliveries have left me with a bitter experience. Although my second one wasn’t that bad. But the hospital beds, needles, the helplessness, the pain, the poking, the frailness, the dependency. All of it like painful bits of memories that I had buried. I am trying not to get overwhelmed. Or stressed or worked up.

On another note, I am so glad hubby has got me this HP laptop. Finally it is a windows one. So much peace. The keyboard is so light. It resembles my Acer laptop a lot. Except that it is a bit heavy. But that’s okay. It doesn’t bother me much.

I had a lot to write. But the internet seems to be slow and the words are practically crawling like a fractured turtle on the screen. That has kind of erased my mind. I love to write. I love to type. I am hoping to buy an inkpen, inkpot and a nice journal to pen down my thoughts. Maybe next time I walk to walmart.

Really lost?…


I am in that state of time in my life, where many things do not appeal to me any more. Some new things have me caught up. Like always, learning has always infatuated me. Learning new things, concepts, theories, lessons.

I recently got hooked to a series called as The Fifth Estate. A documentary on various interesting topics surrounding Canada.

While it originally began with some mysteries and crime, I hit up a video today about mental health.

The documentary was called The Boy Who Should Have Lived.

I was completely shattered watching it. It always unnerved me whenever I came across anything to do with children behavior, mental health or ignorant nutrition.

I have always have this constant check on myself if I am feeding my kids right, treating them right in behavior, providing them the right amount of love and learning in discipline without scarring them. It panics me, even if they just have a cough beyond three days or a cold that stays on.

It is a part of motherhood that I cannot take away from myself. I worry when they are in school that if they are okay and not hurt themselves somewhere in play or fight. It takes all my courage to make that morning walk back to home after dropping them at the school ground, in snow, in wind, in rain and even in sun. I keep telling God, I have left them in your care.

My heart and whole being softens when I see another child. It doesn’t matter whose child.

So when I saw this documentary today about a child who began having mental health issues of anger and behavior at age 9, it sent chills down my spine. The child lived upto 12 years of age, his parents tried every mental health support service they could find, every center that was meant for such kids, but in the end, the only place where he could be treated required them to pay a whopping 21,000$ a year for treatment and schooling, a failing support from the government, the child ended up taking his life.

He couldn’t stop his anger bouts, his frustration that got out of control where he broke his favorite things without realizing, the torment of mad voices in his head that wouldn’t stop, that wouldn’t let him sleep. So much, that he one day he felt to end the problem.

I was heartbroken. Such a charming boy Chazz. Such a loving home, such loving parents and siblings.

If there is a movement I would like to support in the world, it is Mental Health. There is no awareness. Even in this age of 2019. Recently my friend lost a known girl. A girl filled with ambition and life but somehow ended it. She was a victim of depression. And nobody understood her.

Why is this world so cold? How do you not heal someone who you can see around you isn’t being okay, like the rest of everyone around.

It is a scary feeling, the lonely demons inside of a soul have the power to destroy and take away a life.

I remember three kids in my school van, during my final school year. All three of them were always having their books open and were constantly studying, in the van, on the journey to the school. It was a 45 minutes drive, 1 hour with heavy traffic. I understand if we do have a test or exam that we aren’t really prepared about, so we would make use of that time to revise or grab some answers. It never worked for me. All the driving movement in the van would make my head dizzy. I could never learn or revise. But those three kids? Every day throughout the year I watched them study. Even on their way back to the home. Only one of them sometimes did not study. The girl was the eldest of the three, also being my sister’s classmate. The other two boys were younger. I finished school and moved on with my life. A year or two later my brother told me the middle child, he jumped off a high construction site and ended his life right before his results date because he THOUGHT he wouldn’t pass the exams. Really? My dad would thrash us for low marks and mom would make the whole day go bad. But before the night or even the next day they would really sit down with whoever had low marks and explain to them why it hurt for parents when their kids scored low. And yes, we did not always have low marks. It was obviously when we absolutely did not study for useless reasons. If we were ill, or any other valid reason, mom dad wouldn’t get angry at us. My little brother had double anesthesia doses before turning 5 for his broken arm, so that fuzzed him in the head a bit, so his studies suffered. Still my parents always tried him to atleast give attention to the books no matter the result. But those three kids in the van, something did not add up.

Something scared the boy about his test results so bad that he decided dying was better. It could have been his studies, or parental pressure, or now as I think about it, it could have been depression. As I am slowly gathering insight into the darkness of depression, I realise that at some point of life, my mother went through depression too. Her’s was a whole story altogether of domestic psychological abuse at the hands of her parents-in-laws and my dad’s inability to solve it. Somehow, my dad’s love and we kids together helped heal mom’s depression when we immigrated to the gulf. I do find bouts of disturbances hit her, her rage flows when frustration hits her, but it is not at the highest escalated level. She is a fighter, and I believe that depression was a phase that, all thanks to God, she has walked out of it.

But children? I have two, a third on the way. The world scares me, the media scares me, the whole damn internet scares me. Back then, things were different. No one had it easy. Everyone had it tough. Everyone got whopped. Everyone had fears. We did not know anyone unbalanced in the head.

Until recently. And now as I watched The Fifth Estate documentary, I am now bound to look closer around the people with me. Everyone I know. All those I love and care about. If there is anything I could help anyone with, I would, with all my heart and soul. Life is short, the world is cruel and getting worse. The one thing that motivates me, is something that my son’s class teacher often posts in the class group board:

In a world where you can be anything, Be Kind !

be kind

Song of the day… Do Bol


Ja tujhy maaf kiya

Ja tujhy maaf kiya


Pyar ki raah mein mujhko yu chorne waly

Pyar ki raah mein mujhko yu chorne waly

Ja tujhy maaf kiya Ja tujhy maaf kiya

Dil ko torne waly

Sitam hai khudiya

Kyu Pyar banaya

Jo looty dil ka jahan

Dil itna rolaya

Hain ghum muskaraya

Ye apny hai anjan…

Toot kar pyar kary dil jo

Bikhar jata hai..

Toot kar pyar kary dil jo

Bikhar jata hai..

Ishq toh samne ankhon ky

Mukar jata hai…

Bojh hai dil pe muhabbat ka

Utaru kaisy…

Bojh hai dil pe muhabbat ka

Utaru kaisy…

Kehky do bol ye ek umar

Guzaru kaisy..

Rakh dy pemany py apno ko

Tolny waly..

Ja tujhy maaf kiya Ja tujhy maaf kiya

Dil ko torne waly

Sitam hai khudiya

Kyu Pyar banaya

Jo looty dil ka jahan

Dil itna rolaya

Hain ghum muskaraya

Ye apny hai anjan…

Defining Life.

I am tired of defining life.

My son’s ear tube surgery went well. Amidst my emotional torment, I heartbreakingly admitted my tiny son in a hospital, dressed him in a hospital gown and watched him walk into an operation theater. Alone. I had tears, but I wiped them myself. I had to be strong. For my own self. I had to be strong. Then he came out. And walked home that evening like nothing happened. I was grateful to God for that.

There are a lot of moments I am grateful to God for.

But all those moments are sandwiched between such pathetic struggles and sorrow, I cant explain.

I am stuck. I hate being stuck. When I came to Canada, I thought a new leaf had turned over in my life. But no. Its just a new routine. New wonderful location. Even more tempting opportunities to achieve my dreams.

But no, life is not going to give them to me. Not so soon. I am still having to be stuck in this fucked up sinkhole. I thought I was done. But no, I have another huge time to spend watching my life spazm me multiple times while I watch helplessly as it shall continue to do so.

My blog posts, earlier my poetry, is a sad tyrade of feelings. Always been the same.

There is so much to do. There is so much I want to do. I have bound myself with my own stupid restrictions and fears and the moment time slips out life is out there with a whiplash. It smacks me right and left so hard, I collapse in my own puddle.

Tomorrow I celebrate 7 years of marriage. If there is one thing I would regret it is this:

Be like a diamond that is found very rare.

Not like a stone that is found everywhere.

I thought I was being a diamond. I thought what I was doing and how I was being was like a diamond.

Stone? Heck I wasn’t even being a tangible thing. I was being like water.

If there is one thing I would tell my 22 year old self that day that many years ago, I would have said to be myself.

I was proud of who I was then. I was sure of every step I took. I always knew what I was doing, why I was doing and what I was getting into.

Now, I lost myself. In this vast abyss of emptiness, in my struggle to find my true self, I am lost.

I want to take apart my life and join it back differently. I need to be brave and stop this overthinking. I need to stop over deciding.

There are some things I do that I feel are Holy or worthy or benefitial. Maybe I need to look at life at a different angle.

When I look at my sister, I admire her. She strongly stands up for what she wants and she gets it. She stays firm and breaks down for no one. When I look at me, I am a bunch of excuses. Why? Her question is always so right, it pokes me. She asks me why am I such a people pleaser? She asks me what am I doing to myself?

I don’t have an answer. Just another bunch of sorry excuses that I hide behind.

I am still harsh on my daughter. I am watching myself mess up my relation with her. With the new baby coming around the corner, I don’t know how worse it is going to get. I don’t know how my relation with my son will turn out to be.

As I struggle with this emotional madness inside my head, I am slowly watching my life spiralling out of control. Everything. I have just three more months of waiting. Then a whole new wave of whatever life is going to hand out to me will be hitting me.

I am unprepared. Totally unprepared. For the tsunami about to hit me. My strength keeps buckling beneath me. And I give myself fake hopes. Its the only thing that has kept me on.



How do you love halfway?

How do you meet halfway?

I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to love at times and at times to be aloof.

How do you not love completely?

Is that another feeling that I am unaware of? Does it have another name? The feeling? That you can express emotions of affection with utmost sincerity and enjoy the moments like there is no tomorrow, and then suddenly, you think of all the other people in the world, and you can’t see me in the infront?

What is that called?


You called it role-playing. Thank you William Shakespeare for your f***king poem about the “”World being a stage and all the people are players/actors/role-players””. Really?

Maybe this rotten guy never met anyone or himself never lived with full blown emotion called LIFE.

In true LIFE, you don’t pretend, you don’t mould, you don’t act. Life is NATURAL.

Love, excitement, happiness, sadness, anger, betrayal, satisfaction, enjoyment, peace. None of these can be faked. Not for long. I don’t know any way how to pretend these emotions.

But you know the amazing thing about life? Its goal is to teach you everything you DON’T know.

How I wish I did not know real feelings. So life would show me those.

Instead I know real feelings. So now life is teaching me what all I don’t know. I don’t know how to be hurt but still stay I am okay. I don’t know how to be ill and pretend I am healthy. I don’t know how to love someone or something with all my heart but hide all of it. I don’t know how to not yell with happiness or joy. I don’t know how not to let my people around me know every joy or sorrow I go through. I did not know how to run life and separate emotions and feelings from it.

But now, I almost learnt it all. I am a robot now. You can see me in my eyes and see me smile but you can not know, you can never know my deep pain or tears falling from my eyes. You can see me walk with poise in moments when my soul is screeching with joy. You can see me strong yet you can never see the shards of brokenness within.


I can walk through any of you and you won’t ever feel it.

Piece by piece, I am watching me shed the layers of strength and abilities that had taken me these many years to build. I don’t know if I am actually destroying myself. Or if I am shedding the old me to build a new me. I just don’t know.

Strangely, there is no confusion. No fog. Everything is crystal clear to me now. I thought clarity would scare me. It did not. It brought back my focus. It made see the shades of everything and everyone I was refusing to see through my blindfold.

I am growing. In age and in heart. My heart is no longer a huge chamber that I thought it was. Maybe it really was. A place where I thought I could keep all those I love.

All I ever thought about was love. All these years. Is love enough? asks every actor and actress in every movie I see. It never meant much to me until now. As I hit 30 in a couple of years, I realize just for running after Love, I destroyed, with my own two hands and my very own mind and head and heart, everything else that I held dear. All my passions, dreams, things, ambitions everything. Everything. The only thing I held on to was love.

And now that the word is just a facade, a temporary youth feeling, as it fades away like the clearing fog, I am now just barren. Completely.

Who does this to themselves? Who goes so immersed in a weird imaginable fantasy land for years together. Undoing everything they stood for. Fools like me.

Fools. Poets.

There was a section of the world, there is even now, that abhors poetry and poets. Calls them mad people and lost wanderers.

My tears run dry. Why yes. Lost.

And now the age old feeling that everyone talks about, the one about turning back time and undoing some things. Yes. I always thought I would never regret. I always always believed I was very conscious when I was doing all this, I thought I was sure. I thought there would never be a time that I would want to undo what all I did.

I was so sure.

Why was I so sure? Why? My brain asks my heart, my heart asks my soul, my soul asks my brain. The famous never ending circle of blame and why’s.

*sigh*. My problem? I know the solutions to all my problem. Always after I made the problem myself for myself.

Another rising. Another learning.  Another decade…….