Dear God, how are you? I am fine n happy and i hope you are sailing in the same boat and doing fabulous.
I will try to be precise since you are really busy...I might be saying the things that you already know...so please forgive me for that.
Back in time, we were on same page, and inseparable as my faith and believe in you was quite strong. But, I don't know how we got separated and currently, we are on different chapters of a same book....which is about my life. Last night i was sitting on my bed and I starred at the wall and there was the picture of you right by the wall clock. I don't remember when was the last time i said your name "waheguru" or "jai mata di"..i can't remember when was my last morning prayer......
When I was in my early teens in India, I was believer but was never regular in doing prayers, just like most of the teenagers. Used to go to temple on tuesdays and gurudwara on sundays. Sometimes prayed right before the exams.. . Never thought so deeply about you...I think we both were cool..because i never asked you much....
Then you decided for a roller coaster ride and new life began from a scratch in US. It was huge transition in my life. I was overjoyed to see my dad after a looooonnng time, but I missed home and life there. I used to be a free birdy... played with little kids and friends, school life was awesome. But suddenly, you caged me, there was nothing ....no friends, the culture was different, so parents became somewhat more cautious. It was hard to communicate with cousins because of different life style.
No doubt, that everything around me was beautiful, the mountains, the valleys, the sparkling highways, big buildings, the malls, and beautiful people as well............... But i came from different world, which wasn't that beautiful physically, but i was really happy in it. In this new world I was really lonely. One day, i told my father, that .......I don't like America, as I don't have any friends. He said, its normal, as it takes time to adjust in new place and he said ....he felt awkward too in the beginning. He said... its tough and things will mellow down by worshiping you.... That's when you were formally introduced in my life, and slowly things did got better. I was aware this change was due to my prayers and faith in you. Because you were giving me strength to fight against all odds. I could feel you in my serenity. Life improved and I started adjusting in new world...thanks for doing that...
I tried to be modest and honest in my prayers and avoided taking credit for accomplishments in academics. I always thanked YOU for YOUR blessings. It also true that i didn't get everything i wanted , ...but at that time i never complained..because i was ok with it.
I believe in working hard, not just praying alone...you are very well aware of that.
Slowly and slowly my prayers started going in vein. I started working harder, thinking that I am the one who is not making enough effort. I did cried and complained at times when you left me alone.....just like a little child who cries when his parents leaves him. I didn't wanted to lose my faith in you, because you were my spine and it was hard to imagine a life without you. But things got worse around me, and I started feeling terrible, and you never came forward to help me.... Worse come to worse,.....my cold war began with you. I stopped asking you, by not praying. Now I am just quiet no complains whatsoever...
I don't know you anymore. There is your picture on the wall, but i don't feel your presence anymore. I have ignored you, because you have done ditto. You started this procedure of drifting apart, I never wanted this to happen. My heart is not ready to admit that i have lost you. I have tried to console my heart by saying that i am not good person, I don't deserve your blessings...and its taking time to accept your loss in my life.
I have stopped giving you credit in my life...you are not there anymore...
Unfortunately, i am scared of praying, I am scared of you....... I think if I will ask you for anything..... that particular thing i am never gonna get....Prayers are formed in my mouth, but they are never processed into sounds waves by my brain....there is no utterance of words.......I am just quiet...you know that.
May be its your way of fooling us, by FIRST listening to our prayers, and making us dependent on you..and....When we start believing you, one day out of blue you just decide to leave us....what is that... really? why you do that? Nobody can know your hidden agendas? Do you find happiness in our miseries...you might say.....NO? But let me tell you, you are lying, because I could see you making people suffer...breaking families, making kids orphan, the heartbreaks, the poverty, the hunger...isn't that the part of your entertainment....
Oh!!! boi....i can't say anything further....
Dear god, I finally articulated my feelings into words and I was trying to do this for a long time now.....and if you are hurt by my words, I am really sorry. Thanks for your time...and good things in life, but our cold war is certainly not over yet...
I don't know if i miss you in my life. I am not angry with, because you might think so, but I can't imagine having you back in my life....because I am and happy without you...
Yours Trully
Parvy!!!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
In vortex of confusion.
Its 5 AM of Sunday morning. I am so cold and not at all sleepy, my eyes are practically stoned. I feel numb. I just got back from hospital i used to work at in Sacramento.
It all started last night, I was making dinner and talking to my older brother simultaneously. I had been cooking almost all day. So food was ready ( rice and Rajma). My brother was teasing me that its good time for me to get married now. Since i have learnt everything that an Indian girl should know. I was blushing and laughing. I didn't know in few minutes my laughter would be changed into tears, a setback was just a call away.
It was call from Naomi, one of the fellow nurse i used to work with. She called me if i could be punjabi interpreter for them, since they were not able to find any body who could translate Punjabi at that point of time. I first hestitated since it was bit late, but then my brother said I should go ahead. I thought I could do that on phone for them, it was case of advanced stage Leukemia (blood cancer). A man in his late fifties was being flown from Bakerfield to Sutter. Since sutter is famous for their oncology department and care unit. For me, as i said before, Oncology ~ represent incapable world. After waiting half hour on the phone finally i talked to the doctor and was trying to do translation for them in punjabi. I started translating for that aunty i would say. As she was the only one who flew in with her husband from Bakerfield. From her punjabi accent i realized that she was Punjabi from Pakistan. She was crying and I was not able to understand what she was saying and since her punjabi was also hard to follow. I asked Doc. to wait for me and I will be on floor in half hour or so. I called my parents and told them that i have to go for emergency case.
It was very foggy and cold night. As i came out of the elevator to oncology department i saw Dr. Chabhra was leaving for his home. I know him, he speaks punjabi quite well. I had worked with him for three years and he treats me like younger sister. I asked my self why didn't he did the translation?
He asked me what I was doing there at this point of night and I told him there was case of Leukemia and they need interpreter. He said, ....he knows... "pakistani ne saley... budda aur buddi [oldies], kudda [garbage], mar jan saley , udhi janani vi pagal hai, aiwen hi ilaaz karwa rahi hai, bachna tan hai nahi uhney" he said in his sarcastic tone. His elevator to ground floor was there and he left. I think this was first time ever in my whole life I felt disgusted like hell. I could feel goose bumps all over my body. I didn't knew this battle field where we fight cancer have become so personal since i have left ....that we have started discriminating patient based on their countries and backgrounds. I couldn't believe those words were coming out from doctors.
Medicine is profession that not I just love...but its my prayer, my religion, my god. For minute i felt that somebody abused my religion. He made my worship so minuscule which was not acceptable. I was in shock.
I went upto nurses stations and asked for Mr. Abeid and his room. I saw his wife standing outside the room, wearing salwar kameez. She looked like just my mom. Same stature, same height and somewhat same face. She was crying, I went upto her and said that she was talking to me on phone earlier. She gave me lot of blessings for coming up for their help, and I hugged her and consoled her. My eyes were moist as well.....
Doctors were diagnosing her husband and getting him ready for chemotherapy. I did translation for them about his diet, medicine and what could be results and effect of chemotherapy. She was crying and said that his son will be coming here soon. They were not able to afford the health insurance and were visiting free clinics. Therefore, no scans were done to diagnose his cancer earlier. She said, we are broke as from past few months they have been spending lot of money on her husband medication. From her words and sobbing voice i couldn't differentiate was she pakistani or indian women who is going to lose her husband. For me she was woman who needs help, sympathy and someone for encouragement, just like anyone during the traumatic times, not a OLD PAKISTANI WOMAN.
I was done for the interpreting part and I could have left but i couldn't.....I was seeing my mom in her. My mom doesn't speak very well English either and i wouldn't have left my mom in tears. I went into nurses private area and was pondering about what Dr. Chabhra said. I closed my eyes and imagined myself 5 years in future, I just wanted to know if i was gonna be one of those docs. for whom religion, race, ethnicity mattered more than the health and life of patient..? I step back and wanted to rethink if I was doing the right thing in my life. I don't want to lose my soul ....I don't know if being a doctor is right thing now....because i won't be able to forgive myself i ever became that cold and corrupted doc. I won't be able to face that Dr. Parvinder......
The question that needs an answer was why I wanted to be a Doc? what is purpose behind it?
This was one night that made me think and think quite deep
~Parvy
It all started last night, I was making dinner and talking to my older brother simultaneously. I had been cooking almost all day. So food was ready ( rice and Rajma). My brother was teasing me that its good time for me to get married now. Since i have learnt everything that an Indian girl should know. I was blushing and laughing. I didn't know in few minutes my laughter would be changed into tears, a setback was just a call away.
It was call from Naomi, one of the fellow nurse i used to work with. She called me if i could be punjabi interpreter for them, since they were not able to find any body who could translate Punjabi at that point of time. I first hestitated since it was bit late, but then my brother said I should go ahead. I thought I could do that on phone for them, it was case of advanced stage Leukemia (blood cancer). A man in his late fifties was being flown from Bakerfield to Sutter. Since sutter is famous for their oncology department and care unit. For me, as i said before, Oncology ~ represent incapable world. After waiting half hour on the phone finally i talked to the doctor and was trying to do translation for them in punjabi. I started translating for that aunty i would say. As she was the only one who flew in with her husband from Bakerfield. From her punjabi accent i realized that she was Punjabi from Pakistan. She was crying and I was not able to understand what she was saying and since her punjabi was also hard to follow. I asked Doc. to wait for me and I will be on floor in half hour or so. I called my parents and told them that i have to go for emergency case.
It was very foggy and cold night. As i came out of the elevator to oncology department i saw Dr. Chabhra was leaving for his home. I know him, he speaks punjabi quite well. I had worked with him for three years and he treats me like younger sister. I asked my self why didn't he did the translation?
He asked me what I was doing there at this point of night and I told him there was case of Leukemia and they need interpreter. He said, ....he knows... "pakistani ne saley... budda aur buddi [oldies], kudda [garbage], mar jan saley , udhi janani vi pagal hai, aiwen hi ilaaz karwa rahi hai, bachna tan hai nahi uhney" he said in his sarcastic tone. His elevator to ground floor was there and he left. I think this was first time ever in my whole life I felt disgusted like hell. I could feel goose bumps all over my body. I didn't knew this battle field where we fight cancer have become so personal since i have left ....that we have started discriminating patient based on their countries and backgrounds. I couldn't believe those words were coming out from doctors.
Medicine is profession that not I just love...but its my prayer, my religion, my god. For minute i felt that somebody abused my religion. He made my worship so minuscule which was not acceptable. I was in shock.
I went upto nurses stations and asked for Mr. Abeid and his room. I saw his wife standing outside the room, wearing salwar kameez. She looked like just my mom. Same stature, same height and somewhat same face. She was crying, I went upto her and said that she was talking to me on phone earlier. She gave me lot of blessings for coming up for their help, and I hugged her and consoled her. My eyes were moist as well.....
Doctors were diagnosing her husband and getting him ready for chemotherapy. I did translation for them about his diet, medicine and what could be results and effect of chemotherapy. She was crying and said that his son will be coming here soon. They were not able to afford the health insurance and were visiting free clinics. Therefore, no scans were done to diagnose his cancer earlier. She said, we are broke as from past few months they have been spending lot of money on her husband medication. From her words and sobbing voice i couldn't differentiate was she pakistani or indian women who is going to lose her husband. For me she was woman who needs help, sympathy and someone for encouragement, just like anyone during the traumatic times, not a OLD PAKISTANI WOMAN.
I was done for the interpreting part and I could have left but i couldn't.....I was seeing my mom in her. My mom doesn't speak very well English either and i wouldn't have left my mom in tears. I went into nurses private area and was pondering about what Dr. Chabhra said. I closed my eyes and imagined myself 5 years in future, I just wanted to know if i was gonna be one of those docs. for whom religion, race, ethnicity mattered more than the health and life of patient..? I step back and wanted to rethink if I was doing the right thing in my life. I don't want to lose my soul ....I don't know if being a doctor is right thing now....because i won't be able to forgive myself i ever became that cold and corrupted doc. I won't be able to face that Dr. Parvinder......
The question that needs an answer was why I wanted to be a Doc? what is purpose behind it?
This was one night that made me think and think quite deep
~Parvy
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