Musings - Pria's Ponderings

Squirrel Hill

Grief, Loss, Musing on Death Comments Off

Nov 022018

Last Saturday morning, on October 27, 2018, I shockingly read an email of a breaking tragedy unfolding at the Tree of Life. Some recessed part of my brain recognized the name. It was immediately familiar. Reading further, my memory was confirmed when it was mentioned that it was in Squirrel Hill, my former home during college. Then I looked up the building and it was very familiar visually, from thirty years ago, having gone by it numerous times for four years while living less than a mile away in the neighborhood. I then tried to process my shock.

I imagine some of my neighbors from then may have been in the building Saturday morning. I feel the need to honor my former beloved home and neighbors in the wake of the gruesome tragedy. I hope that by sharing my grief, sadness, and memories of this vibrant area that I’m proud was my home, I may process through my bereavement. My heart breaks for the peaceful, loving community there. I have fond memories of the area.

I lived in Squirrel Hill as I attended the University of Pittsburgh from 1987 as an 18 year-old to 1990. After graduating from U-Pitt in 1990, I built a house at 1646 Pinehurst Court in the Franklin Park area of Pittsburgh. I can’t believe I remember the address. It was built about the same time my current home in Denver was. I then lived in a high-rise apartment in the Green Tree area of Pittsburgh until 1992, when I moved to Chicago following a divorce to start a new life.

The horrific event has taken me back to my life in Pittsburgh and at the University of Pittsburgh. At U-Pitt, I spent most of my time in the Cathedral of Learning for my English Writing degree, as most of the English classes were located there. I left for nearby buildings to complete my psychology degree and Asian studies certificate. I developed a love of photography when I took courses with Pittsburgh Filmmakers. I learned black and white photography which included developing my images in a dark room. I also developed a love for video production through Pittsburgh Filmmakers.

I obtained a coveted paid public relations internship with Ketchum Public Relations and then a marketing internship, working with the National Association of Women Business Owners (NAWBO). My internship supervisor stated I had the most marketable resume.

Squirrel Hill was my first home as an adult. Remarkably, I still remember the address of the tri-level I lived in: 5832 Beacon Street in Squirrel Hill. My wonderful landlords in Squirrel Hill who lived below me were Jewish. I sometimes had dinner with them. I was in a Jewish sorority at U-Pitt (Sigma Delta Tau), and was fine with others assuming I was Jewish. On behalf of the sorority, I competed in a Greek Goddess competition, placing as a runner-up.

Murray Avenue is the main street off of Beacon Street. I caught a bus near the intersection of Beacon and Murray to go to U-Pitt. Murray Avenue is a bustling street where I walked to purchase freshly-baked bagels, do my laundry and purchase groceries at the nearby Giant Eagle grocery store.

I got to know the business owners on Murray Avenue well as a customer and also to sell advertisements to them for The Pitt News, where I was also a staff writer. I was awarded “Most Persistent Account Executive” for transforming the least lucrative advertising territory of Squirrel Hill to most lucrative, over Oakland, where U-Pitt is located. This was on my resume for a long time. I had taken on the undesired territory as a challenge. There must be roots in this experience and eventually getting and MBA in Market Strategy. Fellow Pitt News Account Executives asked for my “strategy,” which I think was my caring relationships and connections with many business owners of Squirrel Hill, who were also friends and neighbors. Some may have been in the building this past Saturday.

When I drove to Pittsburgh from Charlotte, NC in 1987, I was stunned by its beauty. My first view was at night, coming out of Fort Pitt Tunnel to be struck by a lit-up downtown Pittsburgh, flanked by rivers and bridges. The city claims to have the most bridges in the world, with 446. I loved the ethnic diversity and attending the annual International Festival. Many weekends, I went to the Strip District for groceries and ate great food at Station Square.

I didn’t personally know the neighbors who passed, but we shared the same space, possibly the same businesses, university, and likely passed each other. We may have connections I’m not aware of. Maybe they were my teachers in college or their children were my classmates. There were likely many connections to Squirrel Hill.

I have had problems to contend with these days. But this tragic event put things in perspective. I’m alive. I may have time that those who passed do not.

All is Well

Finding Meaning, Gratitude, Musing on Death, Musings, Outlook, Philosophy, Spirituality Comments Off

Nov 072016

In my calmest and most clarified moments, I see…that all is well. Regardless of the choices made and paths taken, in the end, no matter what, all will be well. As we near our end, there is not much that will matter or concern us. We must let go of all there was and choose peace with all there is and is not. What other options would we choose? Would we consider ending our lives in anger, regret, remorse, or grief?

None of us were given manuals on how to live our lives. Day by day, we try to learn about ourselves and how to care for and honor ourselves. How can we make a judgment call of what is good or bad for someone? We do not know all there is about life. We do not know from that which we came and we do not know where we will go. All we have is the time allowed and the paths in front of us. We determine the paths chosen and how gracefully we can walk on them.

All we can do is just be. Be in the moment fully. That is all we have at any given moment. We can not judge these moments. They just are. Each moment is a gift to be mindful of, respect, and cherish. Our moments savored are nourishing rain drops for our soul. Our enriched soul can then come forth to awaken, be seen, heard, and honored. Awakened souls united can enrich the world.

We can not decide or determine how long we are here or have others in our life or in this world. What are they trying to teach us about ourselves? What do we learn, understand, respect and honor about ourselves through our relationships? They are there for us to find ourselves. Others must be allowed to find their own paths towards the directions they seek. Their paths and journeys belong to them. We can not trespass on their paths, but patiently and respectfully hope to be invited to share their journeys as we allow them the privilege to share in ours.

Most of life is beyond our control. We must simply be and feel all that we are and can become. Being open to our heart, intuition and soul can allow us to accept, acknowledge and allow all there is…to meet, recognize and embrace our authentic self. In the end, it is our true self we will be with.

Encouragement from Raleigh to Aurora

Attitude, Causes, Finding balance, Finding Meaning, Finding Purpose, Gratitude, Musing on Death, Philosophy Comments Off

Aug 082012

As an employee of the city of Aurora in CO, my husband has come across lots of words of sympathy and encouragement from around the world. Following is an encouraging letter from the city of Raleigh to the city of Aurora following the recent shooting.

Subject: Words of Encouragement from Raleigh, NC

Yesterday afternoon I attended a matinee viewing of The Dark Knight Rises, the final movie in the Batman trilogy; the unfortunate setting for the tragic act of violence during the movie’s midnight premier in your city, Aurora, Colorado. I, like so many others, have been following the unfolding of the theatre shooting and have felt a pull of singularity similar to the immediate reaction of patriotism that followed in the wake of 9/11. Sharing in the horror and impact of the intent and actions of one man I became immediately aware of my own fleeting life upon entering my local theatre. As the previews began my eyes searched for the emergency exits, and I took particular notice of every person who entered the room (all ten of them at that early time of day). During the first few minutes of the movie a rattling of gunfire on the screen made me alert and agitated, echoing the tragic testimonies shared of an audience who quickly diverted their attention from fantasy to reality in an effort to save and protect loved ones and themselves. I thought to myself, should I have come? But as the plot continued I became enraptured by the villainous mind of Bain, the sheer hopelessness of Gotham City, and the contemplative genius of Bob Kane on the relationship between good and evil in our worlds: fiction and reality alike. As the credits rolled up from the bottom of the screen at the conclusion of the movie, I sat recovering from being emotionally invested in the outcome of the plot and reflecting upon the men and women who are struggling to find solace and understanding in the aftermath of the Aurora tragedy. The truth is the movie made me think only of Aurora. The character Bruce Wayne repeatedly remarks on his identity being only a suit that anyone can wear. In an epic moment of dialogue during the plot the audience is reminded that a hero can be found in a single moment, “A hero can be anyone, even a man doing something as simple and reassuring as putting a coat around a young boy’s shoulders to let him know the world hasn’t ended (Bruce Wayne as Batman).” Although it is tempting to idolize the fictional Batman as the ultimate hero, there is a resounding distinction between the heroes of fiction and the heroes of our reality. The men, women and children who are picking up the aftermath of the Aurora tragedy are the heroes of our present day. Aurora has a nation of support surrounding them, cheering “rise!” as we watch a community climb out of the darkness of such tragedy. Aurora, I stand with a nation that is shouting cheers full of hope for you, that this tragedy will make you stronger as you search for answers, struggle with prayers, and learn the art of survival that follows great loss. Jonathan Blunk, Alexander Boik, Jesse Childress, Gordon Cowden, Jessica Ghawi, John Larimer, Matt MacQuinn, Micayla Medek, Veronica Moser-Sullivan, Alex Sullivan, Alexander C. Teves, and Rebecca Wingo are names engraved on my heart.

I could not help but to think of Aurora and the victims of that horrible night, and know that an entire nation is doing the same, as these words are echoed in theatres across the world, “I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, that I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” Aurora, this is a moment for heroes, and we are all looking at you: a beautiful city, a brilliant people, a community that will rise from this abyss.

Sincerely,

Raleigh, NC.

Farewell My Dear Princess Pooja

Finding balance, Loss, Musing on Death, Personal Growth, Relationships, Spirituality Comments Off

Jun 062011

Pooja

My Dearest Pooja,

it feels challenging to even accept that I’m writing to you in the universe as of 6/3/11, rather than find you in my home, to tell you directly how much you have meant to me. The words have been forming, and they feel inadequate.

You have been my anchor for 15 years.
You have been part of the definition of my existence.
My daily script included you.
We have been extremely loyal to each other and have been there together during ups and downs. I nursed you through a life-threatening dog attack, hip surgery and various life changes, as you nursed me by being my constant, loving companion, though bossy and ornery at times, just as I was.

Dear Pooja, how do I continue my loyalty to you now? How do I continue to take care of you now? This phase doesn’t fit in the script of my life and function with you. Where do I go from here?

I am not and was not ready for the story of you and me to end. Maybe you knew that and you left me on a Friday when my husband could help that weekend with my daughter so I could grieve and also leaving after my son was out of school, as he will be there tomorrow when my husband goes back to work. He is also spared having to face school during this time of healing.

I can not be mad at you because that would make me not loyal and devoted to you. But I have felt mad at something for taking you away from me in a way that I can’t even get you back. There is not a chance of reunion in this lifetime for me and when you got lost and I found you at the shelter.

Your passing does not have a solution like your previous wounds; I can not fix it, and I am not in control. That must be part of the loyal, parental anger I feel. I would not desert you and I would find you to the end of the Earth, as I know you would do for me. But you are not on this Earth now and I have been paralyzed and lost with grief and shock. Now what? How do I march forward without you by my side?

You have been the security blanket I’ve unknowingly had for 15 years. All was well at a basic, constant level when you were in the picture. You helped me feel secure, grounded, centered, and loved. It is hard to look at any space in my home and notice that you are not in it. With you in my life, the days seemed sunnier, the flowers felt prettier, and smelled nicer. I cared more about having my plants grow and enjoying the warmer weather with you. I enjoyed the breeze through you, watching you sniff it, basking in the sun and environment around you in our back yard, just within the past week. How do I experience and enjoy life without you?

Your deteriorating health sent me to tears, as I was forced to consider the inevitable with your age. Reading about potential help with your ailments (that I was aware of) gave me hope, which I held to as you went to see the vet this Friday, 6/3. I assumed you would come home that night with medication to fix things, and I would continue my regimen of caring for you and the rest of my kids. I was not prepared to consider you may not come home. Now I try to conjure up every moment of that day, as it ended up being my last with you. Had I known it would be, would it be easier? Or is it like children getting a vaccination shot, when you may not want them to know the exact moment and be distracted, to lessen the pain and fear of anticipation?

Your loyalty extended to my children, whom you watched enter the world, grow, and love you. You chose to sleep near me at the end of the day, every single day, even when your back legs were failing you recently, and you would push your body up to your spot in my room and life. When we limited how much you pushed your body by restricting you and you stopped protesting with your barks; I was filled with sadness, knowing your were resigning to a new phase. This was not the Pooja I knew, and I was scared.

I am so sorry for being so bad at letting you go, and if that caused you further suffering and a heavier burden. I’m sorry for my selfishness in thinking there would not ever be a good time for you to go. You ended up looking after me even in your passing by ensuring I was with the support I needed.

As much as I hurt in losing you, I will never regret the love you brought in my life and that of my family the past 15 years, which will always be a part of me. You have blessed me and my family immeasurably. Thank you, Pooja, you are a “prayer” answered, as your name means. I pray that I will see you someday, in your peak physical form, flying through the air to catch a frisbee and chasing tennis balls.

Tennis balls will remind me of you along with everything else. For now, just waking up, breathing and looking at anything reminds me of you. My heart aches and feels empty at the same time. I don’t want to be disloyal by not thinking about you and letting you go in anyway feels disloyal. Giving up your body felt disloyal. I will never be able to feel your soft ears that felt like the plant lamb’s ear in my yard.

Two weekends ago, I was noticing your triangular ears perked up as you were lounging next to my husband in the park. You did not look aged. You were beautiful, majestic, serene, and proud. Looking into your eyes felt like I was looking at an old soul and that you could see my soul. I am grateful for choosing to look into those eyes as you passed from this world. And then I looked at the dreaded sight of your body not going up and down with breath. You were still. Your eyes and gaze remained the same.

Pooja, I will love you forever. You are a part of me and my family and always will be. I will be honoring you every time I love and nurture my family that I will always be loyal to, as you have been. Rest in peace, my Princess Pooja and now my angel.

Pooja, Colin, and Bhalloo 1/18/10

Being an Asian Indian and American

Musing on Identity 1 Response »

Jul 312009

For almost the past two years, I have been trying to start an Indian importing business called Komal Style Boutique. I am originally from India, so have a natural attachment to anything Indian and want to combine that with my interest in business and having a venue to be able to do socially-conscious work in India. I’ve come to learn over the years that my interest in India may be greater than it is to many who are from India and that it is somewhat complicated as I have also had some frustrations with my heritage. At times, I have had a “love/hate” relationship with India. As an Indian/American going to India, I have been frustrated by not being able to efficiently get things done and struggling with issues such as finding a decent toilet when traveling there. That was quickly surpassed by seeing all the beauty and spirit around me; in the smiles on the faces of villagers and the serenity of women going about their daily rituals.

I am also proud to be an American and to have grown up here. The pride in being both an American and an Indian have at times conflicted. I’ve defended Americans when Indians said they don’t care about the elderly. I had personal experience at the time of knowing someone who took great care of his elderly mother. I’ve defended India against limited views and perspectives some Americans have had of the country, such as believing it is just like what they might see on a Sally Struthers commercial depicting people struggling with poverty. Many Indians take offense to this view and for this reason object to movies like “Slum Dog Millionaire.” They want people to know that Indian life is much more broad and India is emerging very rapidly as a country to be reckoned with. In fact, the most new millionaires have been from India recently.

There is a huge increasing middle-class and the normal middle-class lifestyle of having a cook, maid, nanny, and perhaps a driver. They didn’t understand the simplicity of life and the ordinariness of it at times, how the days for many women consisted of domestic pursuits such as making sure there were three great meals, visiting neighbors and relatives over savory snacks and chai, and of course getting a nap in every day around 3pm. It is a pleasant, mellow life. In comparison, most women here are running around trying to multi-task as much as possible to try to cross a few things off on their “Things to do list.”

It is good to understand different cultures and have respect for one another. Americans would want people in other cultures to know that life here is more than what they see in an old John Wayne western. It’s perhaps a good start, though, to getting a glimpse of the wonderful American spirit.

Being an ABCD

Asian Indian Culture, Musing on Identity 3 Responses »

Jul 282009

As someone who has been raised in the US (but from India), that makes me an “ABCD – American Born Confused Desi (“Desi” means “from India”).” This designation is in contrast to an “FOB (Fresh off the Boat).” I was once married to an FOB who enlightened me on my label, with some derision, of course. We regularly engaged in some good-natured debating on who was “better.” I felt I was eclectic – able to choose what was best from two cultures and make it my own, a part of who I am. He thought I was just confused. Maybe so. I know that other ABCDs I’ve known have felt the same way, mostly confused.

As teens, we talked about our longing for India – the country and people left behind. To some extent, we felt that we were temporary visitors to the US. As a female, I felt that I left “sisters” behind – females who did not have the advantages I would by living in a country where opportunities were abundant.

Many of our parents were glad to have brought us to the country to further our lives. Yet at the same time, there was resistance to our mixing in too much with the “West.” We were to retain as much “Indianness” as possible, whatever that meant at the moment. There was much resistance, particularly with my own family, to a culture that was attractive enough to warrant moving here. I wondered at times, growing up, why we did move here if it was so terrible.

When I married the FOB, as was the plan for me, I learned that while I was busy measuring up to an Indian standard handed down to me, Indians in India were becoming more and more “American.” How ironic. I learned that my FOB spouse had in some ways already lived a more American life than I had, in India.

The country was evolving, even more rapidly recently. These days, it seems one can feel as American or Indian as one wants regardless of the country they actually live in. It’s really more a state of mind rather than actual geographic place. It’s possibly best to not even make a distinction. We’re just individuals influenced by our backgrounds at different levels.

Unexpected Ending

Musing on Death Comments Off

Jul 102009

We came back from our first real family vacation with our baby on Sunday the 5th. I learned that my oldest sister had been in the hospital the past three weeks and was on a ventilator. I wanted to make immediate plans to go over, but was told there would not be anything I could do as she was sedated and would not be aware of my presence. The doctors were going to try some different things and she was stable. She had a cold that she used over the counter drugs for at first, but developed into something so severe she had to be on a ventilator. We decided we would potentially go over the following weekend. I hoped to see her when she was well and could appreciate seeing my baby.

On Monday evening, the 6th, at about 10pm Eastern time, my sister passed. It was unbelievable that something so bizarre could hit so close to home, to someone so young and so much to live for at 47. I had looked forward to the mending and nurturing of the relationship, a push that had apparently been prompted by the passing of my father this past December. It is unfortunate that the relationship had not been nurtured already prior to her passing, as with my father. She was maternal to me as a child and I will treasure the memory of her from then.

I am feeling more aware of the passage of time. There is so much that I want to do, see, and accomplish before my time “is up.” I want to live my life as richly as possible.

The best way I can see to honor someone once they pass is to learn from their life and values. What did they believe in? From my experience and recollection of my sister, she was a devoted housewife most of her life. She was very into trying to keep a clean, nurturing home and took domestic endeavors seriously. I appreciate and relate to this. I believe a home should be run as smoothly and lovingly as possible. It should be a refuge for all and it takes much effort to make it so!

The past few days, I have felt a pull to clean and thought of her as I cleaned and decluttered my home. It lifted my spirits to see the end result. I imagined her smiling. I know caring for my family the best I can is one significant way of honoring her life; taking care of myself will allow me to do so for as long as I can.

Dear sister, I hope your soul is at peace. Thank you for all that you have done for me. You have raised two children into adults you can be proud of and have thereby left a positive, meaningful, and enduring imprint on the planet.

Musing on Marriage

Musing on Marriage Comments Off

Jun 252009

An observation I am making of my 2-year marriage (as of 7/7/09) is that the best I can do for it is to not take myself too seriously and keep things light. My husband and I have been blessed with a good, similar sense of humor, and the more it is utilized, the closer and happier we are. I also am realizing that the more grounded I keep myself by taking care of myself at different levels, I am able to give the best of myself to him. I am also learning that I have to make an effort to keep the spark fresh between us, when it is easy to get wrapped up in family duties.

Another connecting area for us is an appreciation of tennis. He has been playing much of his life and I am a beginner, along with my 11-year-old son. It is nice sharing this passion as a couple and family. It is a way to bond. It will be a treat to watch our infant daughter eventually learn to play so that we can one day all play together.

Sometimes we are not able to spend much time together due to responsibilities or go away on our own. We will be going to CA this weekend for a week as a family vacation and Anniversary celebration. We will have to be creative and find opportunities to be a couple whenever possible, such as when the kids are sleeping. Having separate rooms part of the trip will help. It will also be important to find moments throughout the day to flirt, compliment, and just remind each other of our mutual attraction.

It has been said that in a successful marriage, you get up more than you fall down. This marriage article points to other good tips on maintaining marital harmony: CNN Article on Marriage

How I Came to Here

Musing on Identity Comments Off

Jun 232009

Over a year ago, in April of ’08, I was laid off. I had worked in the aerospace industry since 2001, specifically in contracts, and it was time to move on. Prior to that, I had worked primarily in marketing and had finished an MBA in Market Strategy a year prior to the lay-off that I was hoping to eventually utilize to transition back to marketing. In the meantime, my new husband and I were hoping to have a child and it all seemed to be appropriate timing. After a miscarriage around the same time as the lay-off, we were lucky enough to get pregnant soon after and now have a 4 month-old daughter. I already have an 11 year-old son from a previous marriage and feel blessed to have my little girl as well.

One of the issues I struggled with while working outside of the home, particularly as a single mom, was a desire to have more balance in my life and to telecommute more. It was frustrating to have my son in daycare from 6:30am to 6pm while I drove two hours daily to get to and from work. It was the same in the summer when I wanted him to be in specific camps and activities for his enrichment, but had to keep him in full-time daycare because I could not leave work to take him to those activities. It was even more frustrating to realize that most of my work was done using a computer, which I had at home. I was even emailing my colleage in the next office, rather than walking over. The nice, big office with custom furniture I was in seemed wasted. I wondered how much the company would save in facility costs if they didn’t use so many resources for employees; and the employees would be happier because they wouldn’t have to pretend they didn’t have other parts to their lives, and would maybe stay with the company longer! ***sigh***

When I finally requested to possibly leave a few hours earlier to pick up my son from school and work from home, my boss saw it as a personal affront. He thought he was being taken advantage of…

What I’ve come to learn about the lack of support for more telecommuting is a lack of trust from management and a concern from HR that other employees will be jealous. This does not make sense since no supervisor is looking over the shoulders of employees all day long to determine productivity. All one can look at is the ultimate result. Is the work getting done? Co-workers wouldn’t be jealous if they can have the same benefit if they desire. I have seen instances where some employees in some departments got to telecommute some of the time and others did not. Ridiculous! It felt like a clique in high school you couldn’t get into. How did these people become the “chosen telecommuting people??” Were their lives more valuable than mine??

I hope that when my daughter is an adult, much change will have occurred in this area and she will be amazed at the resistance there was in allowing people to have more balance in their lives.

I am always pleased to see women achieve this and the following article is an example: CNN Article on Self-Employment

Hello world!

Musings Comments Off

Jun 222009

I am looking forward to sharing my thoughts as I explore and experience my life. There is much that I want to understand…about myself, and the world. The summary of what I seek can be summarized by the words “balance” and “meaning.” I want to know that my life has some purpose; that I am not just clocking in and out every day until I die.

Thank you for sharing my journey with me.