so, ridiculous story.

it’s almost 11pm and I feel awful for not having an interest in participating in Indian events or holidays anymore. I feel bad because I should keep trying to indulge in the culture as much as I can before I leave and really savor this experience. But to be completely honest, I have no interest, so desire, or even patience to tolerate being in this country anymore. This trip has been incredible and I am so grateful for getting to know my background and where my father has come from. But this has also been the most bizarre and slightly unfortunate foresight also. When I heard there was going to be a celebration within my society (apartment complex) I went out and immediately bought a pint of gin out of distress. Now, I am sitting in my bedroom being the drunkest woman in India and trying not to flip out because I want to massacre everyone in my sight.

In a state of rage I told my father I would change my name to rid myself of an South Asian influence. Just thinking about what I said makes me feel like an awful prejudice bigot. I was raised in America and just saying that out loud doesn’t mean a thing. I was raised in Las Vegas fucking Nevada, I feel like I should be more open minded towards foreigners , but all I want right now is to go back to California and forget about ever living in India because it was that terrible for me. Then again, that’s not completely true because I have had some tremendous moments I would never want to forget. I think it’s just the awful people I’ve had the misfortune of getting involved with that have driven me mad. It pains to say this awful group of people were my own blood relatives

It’s true, I rather be asleep than up and at it. I’m not sad or depressed or fixed on perishing. But, my dreams are much more interesting than my wake life.

I developed this bad habit of tuning everyone out. Everywhere I go, I feel like I am being carried on a conveyor belt, drowned in my own thoughts, everything else around me is muted and all I can do it look forward. I keep my head up high but all I want to do is sleep. All I want to do is meditate, I am searching the places inside my mind where I can rest peacefully in pleasant memories. I don’t listen to people who speak to me anymore. It’s all just loud noise about how I’m supposed to be. This bothers me, I am living each day as if I have guarantee to the next. That may sound cliche, but I must start enjoying each day. Last night My father had gotten really sick, I’ve been around him for nearly months now. But seeing him partially paralyzed in bed made my shield crumble. I sat beside him and hugged him until he finally fell asleep, I explained to him my intentions on bringing him back to the US. I said, if you are too tired to fight, then you can go on, but you need to see your family first. He started crying and said, I am tired, but I want to see your mom and sister one more time.

I’m a little annoyed that the gym has to be closed for one week because of diwali. Must be my haste-ful nature of being a westerner.

go home

I used to hate driving to work everyday when I was a driver at the restaurant. On the mornings when I had pulled an all nighter, I would close my eyes merging from highway 50 to interstate 5 just to get my heart racing. I had impeccable timing, not once did I jerk the wheel because my precision was always on point. I memorized my new city within weeks when I first moved to California. On lonely fall afternoons I asked strangers for directions to places I knew just to spark conversations. I always wished they’d ask me where I was from, though I hated in Las Vegas, with pride I’d say I grew up in Vegas.

Two months into my transplant city, I have general knowledge as to where I live. There aren’t street signs or names anywhere. People just seem to know where they are going. Now days when I’m walking along my new territory, I avoid eye contact with people. I don’t want to be looked at, I don’t want to be stared at. I don’t give a shit about anyone’s opinion on my short hair, western clothing, or coarse language I insist on using everyday. I just don’t give a shit.

I'm not feeling alright tonight.
I'm not sure what started this foul mood but I haven't been able to shake it off all day. I wish I could put my living situation into vivid perception but all I can think of is, I am not happy. I am very unhappy at the moment. I'm actually just incredibly sad tonight.

One significant part of my uneasiness is coming from my father. It seems as more time goes by the more I am beginning to resent him. I hadn't seen him in four years so from the age of 18 to 22 I changed a lot. My change was quite drastic actually. Finally as an adult and sober I feel as though I can ration choices better in my mind. My father knows absolutly nothing about me. What kills me is it seems as he want to know where I've been or what has happened to me over the years. Either that of he just doesn't have the mental capacity to do so. He doesn't know what instrument I played for 8 years when I was younger. Every other day is a screaming match between him and I. I refuse to believe that he has become utterly helpless. When he struggles in the morning all I hear for two hours is 'I should just kill myself, when you leave I'm going to jump in the river and drown'
Suicide talk is the kind of shit that just pisses me off. I get fired up with rage.
He is my father. He is someone I am suppose to look up to, someone is suppose to represent safety, someone I thought would encourage me... Ideally of course...
What hurts more is expecting these kind of attributes from him.
I know I'm a strong girl. Emotionally and physically. I do believe I am more capable than I give myself credit for but I feel so completely dismantled.
I don't want to be here anymore, this trip is starting to feel like more a punishment than a privilege. I don't want to go back to home, I don't know where I would even stay. I just want to feel safe. I want to be ok.

but other than that, life goes on.

I am so happy and overwhelmed with too many emotions to name. I could be walking down the street or even boiling milk for tea and suddenly tears start streaming down my face. Am I sad? Probably. For why? I have no idea really. I am incredibly homesick. Homesick for what specifically? I think this question is what causes the hairs on the back of neck to stand. Now that I am so incredibly far from anywhere I’ve ever considered home, what am I missing!… Is it someone(s) or somewhere(s) anywhere in particular but nowhere near. I spend every morning with my father and when I look at him I smile and then I want to cry. I smile because I love him so much that just his sight makes me feel like everything will be alright. Then I cry because I love him so much that watching his illness unfold before my very eyes again brings such a heavy weight… I wish he didn’t pain or struggle as much as each moment does. But in time, with time. Time, time, time. I feel as though I should type what little facts I know:

My name is Radha Jessani and I am twenty-two years young. And for the first time in my short history of life, I have experienced a different type of -ness. I have been asked by the world at large what I do. What do you do in America? What are you going to do while you are here? To be honest, I do not know what I am doing. But I can offer you a solution, be useful? Show you some art. I can help you fall in love, maybe introduce passion. I can sit around and feel things all day. Something like that maybe..

Monday

I wonder, will I ever cease to wonder.

That sounds so elementary..

I have San Francisco on my mind. My body is terribly sore, I’ve started these new work outs that are proving wonderful results. Yee Pune!

So it seems I’ve been getting sick every other day lol A little feverish here, and like nauseous there… I fear some Indian food is not suiting me well. It’s a terrible thought. The more time that passes the better I feel about leaving California. There are a handful of people that are consistently on my mind. I go back and forth literally every second, I love you, I hate you, you inbred. And Then I begin to to think, maybe I am just too much in my head………………………………………………. any day now.

My uncle said to me:

it takes the better person to forgive someone who has done wrong to you. But you are a damn fool to ever trust that person again.

Hearing that is like going through withdrawls with someone I have an irrational emotional attachment too.

Today while I was riding the rick back from the gym, I passed by a cemetery. A derailed train full of thoughts ran a muck through my mind. I remember in high school when my best friends grandma died, I went to the service but did not attend the actual burial. Her and I have been friends since we were in second grade. I remember for my birthday party during the third grade I was too shy to invite any friends from school so my dad invited some classmates. The evening of my birthday party went well, there was a good turn out but towards the end my brother had done something to upset me so I went outside and started crying quietly in my brand new purple coat. That was when my best friend came outside and gave me a hug and told me not to cry, she liked my coat. After feeling comforted at safe I started to cry again because it meant so much to me she went outside to see if I was ok. So after the burial of her grandmother we went to the cemetery either the day of or the next day, her and I walked by ourselves to the site and it was such a chilling experience. It had to have been during fall because it was cold out, the sky was overcast in deep grey clouds and there was a slight breeze. We stood there and I held her hand as we wept in silence. I eventually out loud had said something along the lines of, don’t worry about your granddaughter now, I will always be her friend and together we will always look out for each other. I love you and I will miss you. There was a sudden gust of wind with a warm current and the flowers propped against the stone fell over, and another wave of silent tears came streaming down our faces

so what's your excuse?

So I went to a social work awards ceremony this evening. This event was showcasing a group of professionals who have dedicated work towards education and improving social transgression within the state. Much of the areas of interest are in street children, child with learning disabilities and also physically challenged children. I really wish I would have taken a brochure or something because I don’t remember the name of the school. The program was in English but I still have a hard time fully comprehending what most say…… Anyway, the ceremony began with a young female doing a traditional dance, she was all dressed up the part and did a phenomenal job. The room was packed, there had to have been at least one hundred to one hundred twenty five people there. The dance lasted about five minutes but the moment the giant red curtains opened and the spot light shined on her I started crying and was emotional the entire performance. It was just her alone, I was so impressed, I was crying because her parents must be so proud of their little girl. She’s about thirteen with down syndrome and has already traveled all around India spreading the joy of what she loves, dancing.