I finally found myself in Dharamshala
\"The Gyuto Tantric Monastery is located in Dharamshala in the state of Himachal Pradesh in India. Originally founded in 1474 in Tibet, it was re-established in Dharamshala after 1959. This prominent monastery is focused on Tantric meditation & ritual arts along with Buddhist \"The Gyuto Tantric Monastery is located in Dharamshala in the state of Himachal Pradesh in India. Originally founded in 1474 in Tibet, it was re-established in Dharamshala after 1959. This prominent monastery is focused on Tantric meditation & ritual arts along with Buddhist philosophy.
Getting married was just a formality for us at that point — we had moved to Finfinne together by then and our traditional families had already disowned us for doing so. I didn’t care though. He was all the family I needed. I’ll never forget how he officially became family — as soon as I walked into our house for the first time, the words “Marry me, E?” were painted across the wall directly opposite the door. The fridge was already stocked with all my favorite food. The bedroom lit up with candles and his smile as he got down on one knee. And to top it all off, there was a note at the bottom of every box describing his dreams for our future together. I’ve never unpacked with more excitement.
Prison = Hospital for the Soul
I know this is odd, but I’ve never felt more peace than when I was in prison. No family or society to answer to. No decisions to make that I would later be blamed for. And no way I could hurt myself — or the people I cared about. Within my cell, I felt like a free woman — my roommate (now a great friend) even said that I laughed like my soul had been lit up!
APURVI AND ISHAN (Part 8 of 9)
I ran off the aircraft, and straight towards Ishan’s office. Avi opened the door. “Apurvi Madam?” he asked. “Ishan?” I whispered, out of breath. “I thought he was at your wedding in India!” Avi said, confused. I shook my head, turned around, and ran out of there. He wasn’t at his favorite bar. Or at his sports club. Or at his house. Where could he be? I was exhausted. It had been a long flight and a longer wedding and it was late at night and all I wanted to do was to curl up and go to bed. I walked into Central Park to catch my breath. Instinctively, I walked to our bench. “A tad over dressed, aren’t we?” Ishan said. I scowled at him in the dark. He was way too chill for someone I had flown across the Atlantic for. “Well if you’d shown up on time for ONCE in your life, maybe I wouldn’t have had to take a flight halfway around the world in my wedding outfit,” I said angrily. Ishan looked away. “You know why I didn’t come to your wedding,” he said, clearly upset. “No, I don’t know why,” I said. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook this time. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? You’re married to someone else, and there won’t be a day where that won’t be painful to remember,” Ishan said quietly. Weak, but he was getting there. “You really thought I could get married and celebrate the happiest day of my life without you by my side?” I prodded. “You don’t have to rub it in,” Ishan grumbled. What a sulk pot. “Well, the last I checked, I actually needed a groom to get married to. And the one I wanted had somehow ended up in America, on a random park bench instead of being at my wedding,” I teased. Ishan looked up at me, clearly confused but ecstatic and in love all at once. Both of us stared at each other in the soaking wet rain in a dinghy corner of Central Park, as though we were really seeing each other for the first time. Was this what the start of forever was supposed to look like?
How do I go on being a parent when I don’t have a child anymore?
Everything in life is supposed to happen for a reason. But is there really a reason that my little angel had to be taken from me? Am I ever going to get over losing him? Especially when I have to go on being a mother every day without having a child anymore?
Leaving behind demons
Those were his last words to me. As a prison doctor, I don’t usually get attached to the people I work with — but he was different. He was actually trying to fight his demons. And those pesky little voices in his head. A few years ago, he lost. I lost. Society lost. And all that’s left behind are his memories. And the voices of his demons, which still haunt me.
APURVI AND ISHAN (Part 7 of 9)
It was 4:30 a.m. the night before Apurvi’s wedding, and it looked like everyone had finally called it a night and gone to their rooms. Perfect for me to make my getaway. I tiptoed across the house, briefcase in hand. I had a few hours until the flight, but couldn’t risk being seen by any of Apurvi’s relatives. They would definitely try to stop me from leaving, and I couldn’t exactly explain why I didn’t want to stay. “Ishu?” I heard Apurvi’s mom call. I froze. Apurvi’s mother was walking towards me, garlands in hand. She was probably up on the ladder suspending them from the stage, which is why I hadn’t seen her. “Hi Aunty,” I said, sheepishly. “Are you going somewhere, beta?” she asked. That was my moment to escape. But for some reason, I couldn’t take it. “Not while my favorite still has work to do!” I said. She smiled at me. Both of us began working on the last part of the stage and recounting “the good old days”. As soon as we finished, I told her that I was leaving because there was a really important conference for me to go to in the US. “Important because of work or important because it’s your escape from watching Apurvi get married?” she asked. I smiled. She knew me well. “I won’t stop you today, because I know your pain. Especially since for whatever it’s worth, I always thought it would be you and Apurvi,” she said. I tried to blink back the tears and picked up my briefcase. “Doesn’t matter, Favorite! I’m sure Apurvi and Ishan will be very happy together,” I said, giving her a hug. “Josh,” she whispered, “Apurvi and Josh.” I turned around and walked out of there as quickly as I could, though I knew I’d left my heart behind.
Tibetan music bowls, often called “singing bowls”, are a kind of bell used in Tibetan Buddhist meditation. Instead of hanging upside down and being struck, the bowl sits upright, and a wooden puja stick is used to vibrate the rim of the bowl, making its unique “singing” sound. These bowls have been used in Tibetan Buddhism for centuries, and are an integral part of learning the Buddhist teachings as well as being used in meditation to attain enlightenment. Hearing the sound of the singing bowl , bought about such a peaceful feeling .I felt that the sound penetrated my soul . I feel totally blessed to have experienced this unique ritual .
Always around the corner, never within reach
Passing by the street where everything happened still hurts. She was not the only one to have breathed her last there — a little piece of me died with her too.
APURVI AND ISHAN (Part 9 of 9)
I ran into the all-too-familiar hallway. Apurvi was going to kill me for being late. Again. The whispers around me were not discreet in the slightest, but I ignored them as I shuffled through the auditorium. Even though I had worked at the bank for years in what seemed like an earlier life; that day, people only recognized me as Apurvi’s guest — and I could not be prouder to be associated with her. Besides, my own personal identity had been effectively erased from the institution’s memory when I quit to work on my own startup. Which, by then, had grown into a multi-million dollar business. After shuffling around for ten minutes, I finally spotted my seat next to our darling Aryan, whose nanny had brought him in from kindergarten to see his mother speak. I ruffled his hair as I settled down next to him. He then made himself comfortable on my lap as we watched Apurvi take the stage. She was magnificent. The youngest — and first female — CEO of the firm. Unbelievable. At some point in her speech, she even thanked “her boys” for helping her get there and winked at me and Aryan. After her speech — and standing ovation and networking — she came over to give me a hug. Then she turned to Aryan and said it was time for him to go back to school. “Just thirty minutes more Mumma please,” Aryan begged. “No baby you can’t miss school like this no — “ Apurvi started. “Let him be, Apurvi,” I intervened. “He’s so spoilt thanks to you,” Apurvi said, narrowing her eyes at me before turning to Aryan, “How about I drop you back to school myself? We can get ice cream on the way!” “Okay Mumma,” Aryan said. “I’ll come with you,” a male voice announced from the side of the stage. “Okay Papa,” Aryan said, running to give Ayaan a hug. Apurvi looked at me guiltily as Ayaan came over, carrying Aryan. I shook my head at her and winked. Just like on the day she first met Ayaan and the day she married him, she didn’t owe me any explanation or sympathy. I suppose that somewhere, we both knew we worked better as just friends — she was just brave enough to accept it first. I watched Aryan swinging Apurvi and Ayaan’s hands as all three of them walked away into their blissful little forever. I couldn’t help but smile.