i try. i tried. i am trying again.

I try hard to be present in the moment but I can’t. Despite my body being present in the here and now my mind is too busy studying myself. I am too self aware. I am talking. Words are coming out of my mouth. Coherent sentences are being formed about topics I am interested in, issues that I am passionate about, books that I have read, opinions that I hold but I am too concerned with how I will be heard. When I’m listening I am too concerned with how I appear when I am listening. When I write my thoughts I am too concerned when how I will be read. When I read my words I immediately cringe because I feel that my feelings are unjustified, my thoughts are scattered, lacking flow, depth and sincerity. When I post my work online I have to fight the urge to take it down because I doubt that I am in the position to write for I think my life is dull and I am gauche. Despite experiencing love, being educated, having a family, travelling to a few places I feel that I still lack the authority to write about it, express it, be someone that others can turn to on the topic. My 30 years of experience I feel isn’t enough. It cannot begin to count yet therefore I should not write because I do not know the topic well enough I hear myself saying. Any compliment about work that I have produced meets me with unease and discomfort, these kind words of praise on twitter are not meant for me. I am just waiting until someone discovers the truth about me and exposes me as a fraud. So I beat them to it. I don’t give them a chance to criticize me, I leave writing up to those who I think do it best. And I read their work. Support them and let them succeed in the realm that I want a take up space in. In a realm that I know in my heart that I can own, I do not make myself known. When I am eating, I am aware that I am eating. I can feel the food in my mouth but I can’t taste it on my tongue because I am concentrated on not spilling it in my lap. When I’m laughing I know that I am laughing and am concerned with how I look when I am laughing. In the midst of all this self doubt I am limiting myself. Letting myself simmer in mild neurosis and I am self aware of that too. I just want to be like how everyone else appears to me and I am aware that I want to be like how everyone appears to me.

Others appear to own themselves, the environment they are in and the space they take up. They’re the captain who not only looks perfect in the uniform they wear but can also fly the plane. All of this is ironic because as I speak about appearance I know that I am an appearance to all those that appear to me, those that I want to be like. But I can’t. I am deeply flawed and can’t entertain the thought that others that appear to me are also deeply flawed beneath their beautiful polished surface. I may look like a captain to them but if they put me in the pilots seat I would not know how to fly the plane whereas they look like the captain and they know how to fly that plane! So I assume. And I am going to leave flying the plane to others because I cannot see myself anything like those sort of people that appear around me.

I need to break out. I have to break out. I have began to realize that everyone is only as they seem to be and they only appear to to me as such because I have created them to be such in my head at my expense. Each time I give up and let others succeed I am preserving the difference between me and them, the insecure self portrait that I have painted of myself and the secure portraits that others have sold to me. Having been too caught up in myself I took a step back and realized that those who I admire are just as deeply puzzled at life, take massive shits that stink up the bathroom, have doubts, insecurities, regrets and sometimes take the shirt they threw into the hamper out, iron it and wear it. I let myself turn my insecurities into internalized proofs thereby validating the pictures that others have created of me. It is now up to me to take this self-awareness that I gave the power to control me, limit me, make me dizzy with doubt to do the polar opposite.

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i try. i tried. i am trying again.

until then i’ll still continue to write

one day
i will write from lived experience.
one day
i’ll come home unable to stop smiling,
heart fluttering, cheeks blushing
because he said
“you’re perfect”.
i cannot wait
for that day when i
come home and
type out
those words and hit publish
for everyone to read.
then i’ll be writing from lived experience
that somebody loves me.

until then i’ll still continue to write

I have discovered

Over the past few months I have discovered something about myself. Now before I share my new self discovery, I would like to mention (in an attempt to make it public knowledge that) I can now comfortable breathe through my nose.

Why do I feel the need to announce this you might be asking yourself? (or at least I am imagining and fantasizing that you are asking yourself because that makes me feel important)

For as long as I can remember I could never breathe through my nose, I have been breathing through my mouth since I was 5 (at least that is what I remember). On a good day the left nostril was open allowing me to comfortably inhale and exhale but the right nostril was blocked. On another good day (a good day is anytime one nostril is open) the right nostril was open and the left one was blocked.

On a really bad day I had allergies (the bad days existed more than the good ones), my nose was a leaky faucet that not even the best plumber could fix! It dripped, it ran and was wiped with nothing but the finest tissues (I like to think that I am single handedly responsible for the continued financial success of Kleenex brand tissues). When I say that I suffered from allergies, I was in AGONY. People would consistently offer me home remedies or feel sorry for me and wish that I get better soon. The worst was, I always sounded nasally! I never really got to hear what I truly sounded like because so much of my voice was filtered through my nose. It was sad, embarrassing. I was tired, physically and mentally drained. My nose sucked all the life out of me. UNTIL NOW!

Avamy. What I will name my daughter if I change my mind about havi kids.  This is the nasal spray that has enhanced my quality of life and could have enhanced it ten years ago had I listened to my mother who had been consistently encouraging me (to the point of botheration) to use this spray but I didn’t listen to her and boy do I wish I could go back in time and listen to my mother.

Tonight I sit here and type this blog post being completely able to breathe through my nose without any obstruction. Nothing is leaky, nothing is running, I have no boogers and I don’t need a Kleenex!

Aside from my bodily, material self discovery what did I discover about the immaterial part of myself over the past few months?

I feel free. And it feels fucking AMAZING. Free to be myself. Free to be ME. Almost carefree (I say *almost* because I obviously have not found my way out of my crappy job at the bank but I am working on it!) I feel uninhibited (kind of like feels after having had a bit too much whiskey) with a boost of confidence that can only come with 4 greys and age. I can speak my mind and do what I feel like doing openly (except for the obvious, I’ll only pick my nose when I know that no one is around and if I am caught I will play cool).

I feel comfortable and honest in my being (both my material being that is my body (because I look spectacular naked) and my immaterial being that is my personality (because I have made great friends and had fun with cool strangers because of it) that continues to develop and my moral spirit that continues to evolve (it is not perfect)).

I feel secure. If I were an operating system I would be Blackberry. I feel like my actions and my inactions are authentic. I don’t care what people think about me (entirely) because I’ve learned that people are always going to talk, and if they’re going to talk regardless one should give them something to talk about. I for one am gracious that I would even be considered worth someone’s time and energy to talk about . Consequently my new found ability to not care (which didn’t happen over night) has caused more people to gravitate towards me, good people, people I like and who like me in return. Moreover, I have learned that people who talk 1) unfortunately do not have hobbies or ones that occupy them enough 2) aren’t having enough good sex or just haven’t quite figured our how to touch themselves 3) are unsatisfied with their lives or the choices they have made 4) just need to pick on others out of sheer envy. Guess what? Neither of them apply to me! (Okay maybe 4 applies to me just a little because I am still at the bank but for the most part I have made the right choices 78.95& of the time)

I have been very honest in my blog and in my tweets, almost to the point where some people do not believe what I write about because apparently my posts do not add up to the in-person Kiran. Believe me (or choose not to) but this is all of me. And as much as I hate myself most of the time, I love who I am and am not changing for anyone except changing natural with time.

This song is fitting:

 

 

I have discovered

my sister’s wedding

My sister is married! M-A-R-R-I-E-D. I can’t believe it. I mean it feels like it has happened because it *did* happen but it still feels surreal. The big day was August 8th which kind of sort of explains my absence from my blog. I was so busy with the wedding and all the events leading up to the big day that I found little time for myself and do the one thing that matters most to be in the world, blogging!

But I did what I had to do. This summer I made one promise to myself when my mom was diagnosed with cancer which was quite a major turning point in my life. I reavaluated what matters to me so I decided that I would do everything I possibly could to make sure that the days leading up to my sister’s wedding were perfect and I did everything in my power to make sure that things were done to her standards making it the most memorable event of her life. I put the finishing touches on the house to make it look festive in her favorite colours, helped her shop for odds and ends thereby making countlss trips to the dollar store, Costco and Michael’s runs, taking the ladder up and down different parts of the house, I even got my hair and make-up done because she wanted me to (after 29 years of refusing to pay money for hair makeup because not only am I fully capeble of doing it myself, I don’t like people touching me. But I did it and I never looked more alien to myself than I did at this event! I will not post a picture of my dolled up because I look unrecognizable)

Everything was spectacular, the colours were vibrant the finishing touches reflected my sister’s personality, the events (yes events. Indian weddings are week long affairs. There are 3 days that lead up to the wedding and the wedding is event #4!) were small and intimate against the backdrop of my father’s backyard pond and really authentic.

Really. It was a great summer, it was an exciting summer, it was a happy and memorable summer (just as memorable as all our summers spent traveling abroad, taking road trips and sometimes just spending time together in local hang outs) but it was the most bittersweet summer I have ever experienced in my 29 years of existence. My best friend, my worst enemy, my biggest cheerleader, my annoying little sister got married and then moved to the United States. This is the first time in my entire life she has been away from me for more than 1 week. Although I am midly upset that the house is empty and I have nobody to ignore or make fun of she is thrilled, over-the-moon-happy that she is closer to the Kardashians than she ever was in Canada.

Here are some pictures of the event

IMG_7211my and my mom

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the backyard

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the side fence

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the backyard

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us 4

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pink flowers

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boutonniere making

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the wedding car. me and my little sister booked the yellow buggy that she had always wanted and didn’t tell her. The bride-to-be was so disappointed that her yellow buggy was unavailable that she was ready to dress up her Yaris to take the Gurdwara. The day before her wedding we surprised her!

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finished product

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more decorations!

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my little sister making rangoli

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finished product

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simple mendhi

my sister’s wedding

my sister’s shower

I co-hosted my sister’s bridal shower this past Sunday. The event was at my Massi’s (my mom’s sister, quite literally our second mom whose house me and my sisters have been sleeping at for over a month, turning it into a wedding planning slash wedding arts and crafts mess) backyard. I am not fond of showers which includes the one that I am required by common sense and for the maintenance of personal hygiene to take every morning. Showers are one of those things you cross your fingers and hope that you are not invited to but end up attending. You kind of dread being there and might look at your clock to make sure the event begins and ends on the time written on the invite but of course you end up having fun partaking in traditional games, socializing and eating colourful well presented yummy food. It’s like ripping off a bandage, you think it’s going to be very painful but when you rip it off you realize the experience was not so bad.

My Massi played host and me and my younger sister made the event happen. The theme was Japanese cherry blossoms because that is my sister’s (the bride-to-be) favourite flower. The shower was not a surprise, Jo knew about it all along. The theme was decided upon at Papyrus (my favourite greeting card store where the card is the present) as we were shopping for invitations. There was a table full of cards on sale and we didn’t like any of them, they were either too flashy looking or too expensive (for just invitations!). I picked up a box whose cards resembled the pretty pink flower and asked her if these are Japanese cherry blossoms. She said that they very well could be. I turned the box over and saw the price, subtracted the discount, added the tax, paid and walked out the mall beaming with inspiration.

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Our next task was to find the perfect bridal shower game prizes and wrap them up. We decided to mix and match Japanese cherry blossom and Indian Jasmine mists from the Body Shop and wrap them up in clear plastic bags.

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And coincidentally we chanced upon this lovely Japanese cherry blossom ribbon from Michaels where creativity does happen!

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The Japanese cherry blossom theme could not be without the classic Japanese folding fan. Only my sister could find this and make it happen.

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We found long stems of Japanese cherry blossoms and lovely vases for centre pieces.

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I thought white paper plates and white plastic cutlery would look just fine but my sister insisted that a nature green would tie together the look so she made it happen. Jo and my younger sister Choti also came to the agreement that I am never satisfied with the work on others that they wrapped up the cutlery while I was at work. I was kind of bummed that they did it without me but completely understand why they think that I never like the work of other people (because I do believe that I can do a better job). I was happily surprised and they did a great job without me.

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I don’t know how we found these Japanese paper lanterns but we did.

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4pm on Saturday evening and where was I? At Michaels because I was scrambling to make the bride-to-be sign for my sister’s bride-to-be-chair! I found sparkly lettering, a wooden board and pretty flowers. Tie that all together with a glue gun and I had my sign less ready 24 hours until the event.

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I promised my sister that I’d make her a welcome sign to her shower and she made it! I had complete faith that I would fuck up and she would make it happen. Less than 48 hours until the event she painted a white board mixing white and red oil paint. It wasn’t even close to dry and with less than 13 hours until the event she had written it, drawn branches and glued pretty flowers to it with glue gun.

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I had never made cake pops before and was adamant that I was going to perfect them for my sister’s shower. So at 11am on a Saturday night, less than 12 hours until the shower I made cake pops and learned how to decorate them with candy melt and candy flowers.

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We did not book the tent because we were really hoping it would not rain on Sunday and the tent guy said he would not reserve the tent for us thereby making it up for grabs. Luckily the night before our tent guy told that the tent was available and would be up by 10:30 am on Sunday morning before the rain began to pour.

This is how all of our planning came together.

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These little confetti stars are hand made. In 2013 after I came back from India I went through a Japanese lucky-star-folding phase and made over 1000, filling 2 containers. I got my cousin’s wife into it while she was pregnant. I found her bottle and used her stars for the shower. They look like candy and made a beautiful touch to our theme.

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Her bride-to-be-chair

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My cousin’s wife had another baby and this time instead of folding stars after pregnancy she got into baking cakes and cupcakes. This is her work.

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Cake pops

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Seriously. With under 7 days left until the shower we could not decide on a cake person. We wanted Anita but she was booked doing 2 cakes so she referred us to another lady and with just 1 weeks notice she did this for us.

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I guess I would do it all over again for my sister (but I really hope I do not have to!)

Us 3 at High Park during the last week of Japanese cherry blossom season.

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my sister’s shower

hashtag wow

It was a Tuesday evening and he texted me unexpectedly. I was in my room doing some much necessary and required research on which Body Shop body mist I should purchase next (it was between Indian Jasmine and Japanese Cherry Blossom and if you are curious to know which one I chose I ended up ordering both and now I regret not adding vanilla into the order because I had free shipping). “Do you want to hang out?” he asked casually making it seem as if he were implying we go out for ice cream and engage in light conversation. I fancied ice cream, mint chocolate chip from Baskin Robins to be exact but I knew better than to think this was an invitation to get a scoop (but still I was hopeful).

“Let’s go” I replied, direct but trying not to sound eager in the tone of my text (so I had intentionally left out the exclamation for effect). “I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes” he responded. He didn’t ask me if I’d be ready in 20 minutes, rather he told me that he was going to be there in 20. It annoyed me a little because it indicated that he isn’t going to consider where I was (not that he knew I was at home but obviously assumed that’s where I’d be because where else could I be?) or what I was doing but I liked his directness and timeliness. Another text chimed on my phone. “And do not wear underwear” he added. Now there is absolutely no chance he’ll detour for ice cream I thought to myself. “Absolutely” I replied back to him keeping it short and sweet, giving him the exact same hope that he had taken away from me. Another text came in “it’s raining, I know you like the rain.” Surprised that he remembered something I said, I replied “it makes for the nicest background noise.”

It was a humid evening as it had been pouring all day, April showers were supposed to bring May flowers but it only brought more drizzle and storms and wet grass. The rain had created a light mist in the air that mixed nicely with the soft breeze. It was refreshing but it also made my hair frizzy and consequently made me feel very unsexy (as it affected my run-your-fingers-through-my-hair-hair. But not that he ever runs his fingers through my hair. Instead he insists that I tie it up and each time while I very much enjoy it down). I took my keys and my mobile phone and walked to his car and waved to him through the window. I opened the door. He studied me. I turned towards him “hi” I said sounding chipper as usual reaching over to his side to buckle my seat belt, searching for the slot to hear the click. “Hi” he replied as he put his hand on my knee and turned to kiss me.

With this left hand on the wheel he reached his free hand for mine and held it, slowly running his fingers down mine and probably wondering “gosh she’s soft.” “I’m soft eh?” I thought out loud speaking what is on his mind. “You’re soft” he agreed with his eyes glued on the road and his mind fixed on me. “Feel how soft my arms are” I went on and he complied gently running the back of his fingers up and down my bare shoulder at the red light. His touch felt nice as we drove in anticipation of being with each other in a tangled sexy mess.

“Right here” he said as he parked the car under a tree in a park. I looked around, scanning this rather unusual location that he chose. “Seriously?” I asked “here?” “Yes” he replied. Like 2 teenagers after a movie date we parked in a public space ironically looking for privacy. He shut off the engine and looked at me with lustful desire completely oblivious of his surroundings. “But someone might catch us!” I said concerned about being caught, fined and imprisoned. “So we’ll put on a show for them” he answered. The possibility of being caught made me want him more, and the prospect of having an audience lessened my anxiety and gave me a dose of confidence. His body was going to be my stage.

He slid my sweater off my shoulders, softly touching my bare skin igniting a shiver all over my body. His brown eyes had a mischievous look in them, twinkling and darling. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked smiling wondering what was going on his mind to prompt him to look at me like that. “I’m not looking at you like anything” he defended as I played with his hair that now began to show hints of greys. “I know you hate when I point your greys but it’s so sexy” I admitted. “Yah I don’t like it” he said self consciously and he leaned in to kiss me pulling me close. His kiss was sexy, sweet and sensual all wrapped up. Like paint bleeding together I couldn’t decipher which emotion I felt more as I slowly drifted melting into a puddle of happy letting every bit of his presence on me take control of my body. His touch was sure but it was gentle, as his hand teasingly made way between my thighs causing an overwhelming sensation in my body. I was elated, in my own realm and completely turned on. The scent of his cologne began to mix with the humidity in the air and it smelled enchanted, consuming me entirely and suspending all desire to think, talk, analyze, and reflect. He sucked my body lip biting it enough to make it hurt in pleasure building my suspense and making me want to take possession of him.

I slid off my sneakers heel toe, heel toe like a child who had just come home from school and eagerly climbed up on the passenger seat. My knees dug deep into the black seat of his little hatchback. Still kissing him I slowly crawled towards him, careful that my bum didn’t accidentally hit the steering wheel setting off the car horn and abruptly ending our moment crafted in natures organic noises. I sat there on him with my legs across his thighs and my ass propped against his hardening cock. “Mmmmm”. He continued kissing me, slipping his tongue between my lips invitingly, sensual and ever so sexy. With his hands firmly holding my waist he unbuttoned my jeans, and his hands made their way up my tshirt trying to reach higher. “Don’t you dare unhook my bra” I scolded playfully taking my hands off his hair and around to my back. He wrestled me with all his strength and finally giving into mine. “Meet me in the back” he whispered as he helped me off of him. I hopped to the back between the front seats like a rabbit.

“Hi” I greeted him playing coy as I clipped my hair up and off my face. “Come over here” he demanded. I complied eagerly awaiting his next move in this tight space as the rain started up again. I complied. Sitting with both my legs folded behind me I crawled to him, straddling on top of him hoping that the car would magically turn into a bed with a roof. I looked into his eyes with a mischievous look on my face as I unzipped his pants. His eyes widened with excitement eagerly expected my next move. With my hand inside his jeans I explored dropping it lower, gently grabbed his cock and stroked his hardness over his briefs, teasing him the same way he teased me. A moan escaped from deep inside him and it made me more bolder, more daring with each passing second. I had him hot and needy as I held his throbbing hard flesh in my hand and it was wonderful! The feeling of being dominate was powerful but I wouldn’t be in the lead for very long.

He interrupted me, distracting me from his maleness with his soft lips and started to kiss my neck unexpectedly. Gently kissing me from neck to my ear, softly biting my ear lobe with his teeth and licking the shell of my ear setting me off into a desire filled frenzy. If I was in Plato’s World of Forms I thought, then he was the perfect form of sex. I could hear his soft breathing and it made me wet with desire. With my back against him he took me into his arms softly kissing the side of my neck, shoulder and down my back. “You’re look so beautiful naked” he said. “Inside, I want you inside me” I whispered consciously as if afraid that someone might hear me. “What did you say?” he asked me again. I tilted his head towards me and whispered into his ear, “finger me” I demanded. He moved the top of my pink lace panties aside and dipped his fingers inside stroking my femininity searching for me, signalling me to come for him.

Like an easel begging for art I naturally parted my legs in anticipation of him sliding his fingers in and out, in and out of me biting my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning in delight. I wanted him to finger paint me. Cover me with pinks and reds, hues of blue and yellow and lose me in the intensity of the suns golden rays. With my eyes clenched tightly together and his fingers covered in my honey I couldn’t help it, I let out of a scream of encouragement as my hands tightly gripped his forearm begging him to go deeper. His fingers sliding in and out of me provoked me, aroused me, pleasured me. He turned me upside down and inside out as his lips covered my neck in endless wet kisses. Unable to contain myself I screamed in ecstasy, squirmed in glee as my heart continued to race against time. Consumed by the walls of heat burning inside of me my orgasm was furthering, the tingling sensation was building but I was unable to sneeze! We had battled to the death. He had pushed, I had fought him back and now I was ready to give into him. I moved my back further into him, tilted my head back, every joint in body stiffened and our space was getting increasingly warmer. I yelled out his name and he lifted me, higher and higher until I finally crashed and free fallen into his arms. I had climaxed. My lungs hurt from screaming, I couldn’t breathe, my mouth was dry, my lips were sore from the constant biting and I could feel the tingling all the way in my toes. “mmmm” I mouthed to him as he kissed my shoulder. Hashtag wow.

hashtag wow