525, 600 minutes.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. 525,600 moments so dear. How do you measure a year?

I've forgotten, remembered, gained, lost, won, given and received much this year and now it's time to reflect. 365 days ago I was different. And 365 days later I'm sitting here, completely changed. Reincarnated.

At midnight this moment passed like every other moment and 2009 was officially gone. Nothing but a memory that would soon fade away as more years would come and go. As many usually are on New Year's Eve, I was with tons of people- most of whom I knew. It was then that I began to ponder the intricately interesting ways of how life is, the mysterious ways in which it works and how things can change so drastically in a matter of minutes or days. Day by day nothing changes but when you look back everything is different.

People are winds- They collide from the furthest regions of the world and combine forces to create friendships. Each day the course changes just slightly and as you look back on your journey you realize how far a distance you've traveled and what you've left behind, either for better or worse. And the people I saw today showed me just how far my course through 2009 has gone and how great it has been. I saw my coworkers who have become like family to me through 2009. I've gained much respect from them and for them. I saw my friends who have supported me through the year and whom I have built a strong bond with that only continues to grow. I saw others whom I would look onto as mere acquaintances and saw nothing more than the gaps we've filled between each other and while I'm the type to reminisce the loss of a friend- today, I'm not going to bother. You're here because you want to be. You mend distance with conversation because you choose to, not because I'm holding a gun to your head. I've put the Colt 45 down and waiting for you to decide. You ask how I'm doing because you care about the response that you get. I'm not an obligation and if you want to be with me, then you would. It is that simple. I'm that simple.

Looking back on past blogs I realized I'm an angry girl trying to make everyone realize that we have lost a lot. In reality I've done nothing but gain it all in other aspects. We distanced and I cried about it because I thought you were the best i ever had. Now I realize that you just didn't make the cut and in doing so I've found others who have stuck around and become my very bests of everything. I'm the type that likes to please and keep everyone in the palm of my hand just as I seem to be the center of all attention. Now I realize that the center I was placed in isn't where I belong and I've found that those I can depend on through thick and thin can be counted on each of my fingers, all of which are full today.

I've come a long way through realization and there's many that are proud of me and of the woman I've become, slowly. The ones I need stay so close at heart that they're just within reach when I need them most-- even when and if they're millions of miles away. I've come a long way in 2009 and I've done the best that I can do- which is more than enough. Coming this far was the easy part. I've got a long way to go and many paths unfolding daily ahead of me. I'm not sure of where I'll end up because life is uncertain just the way it should be. I do know that it'll be great only because I strive for excellence and the petty things that bothered me in 2009 will cease to exist as I step into 2010 with my best foot forward and leave you behind in the foot print that is 2009.

So when you see me on the street, wave big and smile. Miss me like I thought I had missed you and come to grips with the same reality I'm beginning to understand now- I don't need you and you're doing just fine without me. I'm not Miss Popular. I'm not Queen of the World. I'm simply me and I'll be the one you'll always remember.

2009 had its great moments but ultimately, and in my mother's eyes, it was a bad year. Economic downfall had hit not only the country but the entire world, hard. We're still suffering from the aftershock and we'll take some time to recover and balance out our economy. For 2010 we look for change and hope and a better tomorrow for ourselves and our children. For now we'll still cherish the mishaps of yesterday, enjoy the moments of today, and create plenty of memories tomorrow.

In 2010, I'm a new me. So come and feast your eyes on the Nikita:reincarnate. I'm not the girl you once said I was or thought I'd be. I'm much better. So enjoy it.

If I see you at this year's end, great. If not, good riddance. I won't be back. Stick around, enjoy the ride because it'll be the greatest thrill of your life. I bet my bottom dollar on that.

This is my second chance at life-don't spoil it with negativity, don't ruin good moments on enemies, don't waste time on impatience, consume less, learn from the best & heal, in time, with lots of laughs and love. Cheers to 2010

Medley.

"Violence has plagued the streets of many cities, schools, countries and families. It comes in many different forms and is committed by people of all ages and colors. It has scarred the lives of many victims and continues to thrive in third world countries, urban cities, and behind closed government doors. It has claimed the lives of thousands- each a brother, mother, father, sister, friend or lover. Those who once fought against nonviolence, Martin Luther King Jr, Gandhi, Mother Teresa, have seemed to be long forgotten. It is my passion to fight against these injustices and promote nonviolence. I fight against violence towards women, children, and even men, for gays and lesbians. I fight against violence towards each other, at homes, in schools, and on the streets. I fight to stop the violence against racial differences, over seas, against countries, through borders, and towards the earth. I support nonviolent ways to end wars, to end poverty, and to end addiction- sources of all violence. Living in a violent area of the city has put me face to face with violence each day. I feel the pain it causes and see the faces of the people who endure it daily. To make the world perfect we must get rid of these pains, my pains, the pains of the people who are different from me, the pain of the people who we do not fully accept in society as our own, the pains of those we choose to love and those we love to hate. " (Nikita Patel, April 8th, 2008)

Violence works its way through life like a plague. It's a disease and it's spread like an epidemic- worldwide. It buds from the seed of pain and blossoms out of hatred. It's witnessed by the eyes of newborns blessings and the eyes that can see no longer. It survives in every aspect of life. It puts the dingy hue on this beautiful thing called life. Violence begets violence and the vicious cycle continues and spreads like wildfire tearing families, splitting friendships, and breaking the closest bonds between mothers and their children, fathers and their sons, and brothers and sisters alike. It's unfair to those who can barely speak for themselves, stand up and have a say, and to those whose words are not audible.
No one likes violence yet it happens in front of our faces everyday.

She sits alone in her room and drinks to her heart's content most days. She reminisces of the past and the poison spills down to ease the burn that her mind triggers through flashbacks.
It started off as a child when he would come home every night and stumble up and down the front porch steps. She would watch her cry and beg him to stop but he never did hear her. She sat in a corner and witnessed the entire thing unfold all while combing back the hair on her favorite doll's pretty plastic face all done up with makeup and smiling big. She imagined that her mother looked just like her before. Before he had his way with her. Before she was born. Still she loved her mother and was too young to understand how her face stopped smiling so big, her stringy hair started to cover the black and blue hues her face came to know so well. How the new cuts and scratches appeared in different places every morning. And how one day she just disappeared altogether. She grew up and the pieces of the puzzle came together into a huge realization. And the pain was too much for her heart to bear. So she grabbed at the bottle and it numbed her body all the way down to her soul. She had good times in college. She was the top of her class and she smiled real pretty like her doll once did. The nightmares of her childhood stayed locked away under a trap door in her mind. No one around her knew it. She educated herself well. She did everything she was supposed to. Little by little the crowd disappeared around her. Soon enough she was sitting alone in her apartment talking to herself, laughing, telling jokes. She was in denial and her demon unlocked itself and sat on the couch laughing with her secretly gutting her sides with a blunt knife. And she fell apart...The DTs took over her body and she saw things that often weren't there. The demon played tricks on her and tried to take her under. She felt comfort around others and felt that she would be okay if someone just sat there and watched her sleep like her mother used to do. Little did she know that everyone was watching her sleep one last time so that they could say a prayer, cover her and finally close the casket on another wasted life...



Every once in a while I would wonder what he was doing right now. Just every once in a while. I had come to know little by little the terror that was his world. However, I had always known that he was blood and that I had to love him and everyone else the way it was because that's the way it had been given to me. I was too young to know him as a child but from the videos he seemed like a fun kid. I have flash backs of him- every morning I would jump up and down on his bed. He would flip out the insides of his eye lids and chase me. I'd see him in the family photos and be able to pick him out in a crowd easily. I would be excited to know that he was coming to visit. Little by little the pieces came together and his world fell apart... It's two days before Christmas and it's been over a year since I've heard his name. My heart was relieved only for it to be let down again. It seems we're all playing the waiting game until we finally have to close the book on this helpless case. I wish there was something I could do to fix this but I just don't know how. No one wants to give anymore because the effort that has been given over the years has been a waste and only caused more heart ache. It sucks to see you go this way... "A waste of a life" is what she called it because that's what it is. Every day you deteriorate and as you do you shave off a little piece of our hearts. When your gone we all think you'll be at peace so we can't wait to see you go. When your gone, you'll be in peace but for the remainder of our lives- we won't. I sure won't. I'll constantly believe that I could have done something. I constantly will think of things that we could have tried to help you. I'll constantly feel a piece missing to this puzzle, this portrait, this life.
You're supposed to be something to look up to- but you're not. You're the closest thing I have to a real one- but you're the furthest away from knowing who I really am. I don't understand what is wrong with you yet I understand the reason behind what you do and why you do it. Pull yourself together because you're ruining a lot more than just your own life.
You're bringing me down as well.

Dear Santa,
Fix it & Make him want to be better.
That's all I want for Christmas...

Christmas.

I walk around the city and just get lost.

I put my headphones on, shuffle up my IPod and walk around the city that I know and love so much. I let my feet guide me to unfamiliar places and get lost in my own private adventure. I find things I like, people I love to watch, and scenery that my eyes capture like vivid photographs. Being a city girl I find the beauty emanating out of the concrete paved sidewalk, the lustrous sheen off the windows of tall skyscrapers, traffic jam up and down Market Street and the bustling chaos that embodies this urban jungle home of mine.

I lose myself within the crowd and then count to ten, like a good old game of Hide-N-Seek, I go find myself. And discover something I never saw before, the actual beauty within my world. I roam around downtown and I see the pretty lights and everything sparkles. The colorful Christmas trees gleam out behind the frost covered shop windows displaying messages of "Season's Greetings" and "Happy Holidays." The lampposts have been decorated with Christmas wreaths and tinsel. The lights throw in a soft glow down the long corridors of the these city streets. It makes it absolutely beautiful compared to what it usually looks like in, hmm Mid-March, let's say.

I see couples walk hand in hand and children bundled up with stuffy noses catching the bus. I see everything, I see life and the beauty it encompasses. Something that in recent months a lot of people, especially me, lost sight of. I see that this world is good and that the people in it are great- Each created in God's image. (Yes, I read the Bible today) I walk around and I lose myself and all my problems. The budget cuts don't bother me, finals can't stress me out, my fingers aren't memorizing the chords on guitar strings, my brains isn't computing the derivative of the function f prime of x, and for a split second global warming and the desperate search for a cure of cancer doesn't worry me. The music shuffles in my IPod and the world is perfect and world peace has been achieved.

Christmas is a great time to walk around and enjoy the city life, or any type of life for that matter. The malls are packed with shoppers going crazy trying to prepare for the big day. Restaurants accomodate large Christmas luncheons and fill up with hungry people finishing up with all their last minute purchases. Smiles can be seen everywhere. Hopeless romantics clutter around department store counters looking for the perfect necklace, set of earrings, Coach purses or perfumes. Parents try to decipher and locate all the toys on the "Dear Santa" lists that their hopeful children believe Santa will deliver under the tree. Gifts are wrapped up and tied gracefully with a bow for each of their bosses, his teachers, her parents and more. Many try to remember whether their roommates favored pink or orange better and others treat themselves to their own "Merry Christmas" gifts. Post offices fill with people sending parcels wrapped with love cross country or over seas. Grocery stores speedily stock and restock shelves as everyone begins to prepare for their feasts. Everywhere you go people's hearts are full and the recession doesn't seem to show any effect on this season of giving. However, the best gifts given are those that come from the heart.

(unfinished)

I've been a bit lazy so I really didn't finish this one in time. I really don't know where I'm going with it....I'm just writing whatever comes to mind.

Just I.

“Eventually you’re gonna have to get over this emo shit” and that was all he said and that was all that needed to be said.
It wasn’t the usual ‘Cry-On-My-Shoulder' speech about “I’ll always be there for you through thick and thin, there are better days ahead, or everything happens for a reason.” No. It wasn’t the as ruthless as “You’re being stupid, the end. Now pull yourself together” speech. No. It was the simple fact that -Yes, I’ll have to get over this emo shit and learn to stop depending on others for happiness and start relying on my own source. I'm going to have to learn to depend on me...

I, the word most commonly used in conversation and the epitome of our ego. What is I? Who am I? And how is it that I have the right to describe, distinguish, and decipher who it is that I am. Because honestly, I do not know what I may be like to other people. I can have a narcissistic view point of myself and think that I am a good person but the guy next door may not think I’m anything more than a bitch. I can lack self-esteem and believe that I have a fucked up life but the girl reading this blog may think of me as a hero. I can know deep down in my heart that I love you and you may never know. I can loathe you and envy you but the placid smile across my face may never reveal the glimmering jealousy within. The “I” that I view myself as, or the “I” that you see yourself as, can and most often is the I that people do not see at all.
Throughout our lifetimes we as humans try to establish the meaning of each of our own I’s. Pardon me if this gets confusing. Our parents and teachers try to develop us culturally and socially as great I’s that we can be. Our enemies, our neighborhoods and our vices can implement the I’s that can become dangerous and unhealthy to our well being. However, we are on a constant struggle to realize what this I means and we use the word to describe ourselves every day. “I look better in gold” or “I do care for the environment” and “I’m the best person for this position.” I is a term that we try to define but it constantly changes and we constantly wish to change it in order to better ourselves or prevent the same mistakes. The people I call my friends change, the places I go transform, the things I see vary from time to time, day by day, moment by moment. The many I’s of me and you change and we may not realize whether it was for better or worse until we take a moment to look back and see which path, good or bad, we have trend upon.
This is a common problem that many people face during their graduation ceremonies, mid-life crisis, on their death bed, or even at random moments. “I am a smoker, “so you quit. “I was a bad child,” so you try to be nicer to your parents. “ I didn’t do so well in school,” so I’m going back to improve. “I was single, then I was married, now I’m divorced with three kids.” Throughout each of the stages of life and even through the course of a few days to weeks the I’s that we are change and we become the I’s and you’s we never thought we would be.
Who are you today?

A Lesson in Forgiveness

We argue and we yell. We hate people. We call them names and we act racist. We commit crimes of hatred against one another and we go against someone’s will and trust. We act on impulse, we act without thinking, we act to avenge and gain revenge. We act in the presence of evil to help us feel better, to help us cope, to help relieve our sadness. We react too strongly and we each cause a lot of pain and suffering on ourselves in the future and for others at the present moment. As humans we are meant and allowed to make mistakes but we are also meant to love and be compassionate. As animals we would rather not forgive and stay malicious. We would choose not to let go of mistakes and avenge them. We rather see the other in pain- take a limb for a limb and an eye for an eye- but it’s not right. After all it was Mahatma Gandhi’s wise words that said “If we practice an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, soon the whole world will be blind and toothless.” We want to hold onto our grudges because we feel angered by the mistakes of another person. As creatures we hurt others sometimes almost daily in the littlest and biggest of ways. As helpless beings we hold onto these mistakes and try to never forget or forgive what has been done to us. As believers we are made to forgive and be forgiven. As dreamers we would hope our mistakes can be made up. As people we all make mistakes but refuse to forgive people for theirs when the time comes.
I know about mistakes all too well because I’ve made many in my life but I continue to learn and hope to be forgiven. On the other hand people have brought mistakes onto me and gone against me many times. I can hold onto these grudges with all my might but in the end I forgive- out of love for human, self and for God. Forgiveness does not come easy and it takes time to heal wounds of any size and there is a price to pay but it isn’t impossible- it can be done.
“We must trust God to do the work in us that needs to be done so that the forgiveness will be complete.” (About.com)
And I’ve learned to trust in God more and more every day to help heal and fix mistakes made in the heart. To me what I did may not seem like a serious mistake but the way that it may have hurt you can be unbearable and I need to know that, I need to know a mistake has been made so that I can fix it, so that I can want to fix it. I can’t read your mind and I can’t help you forgive me if I do not know about how bad it has hurt you. Forgiveness takes two. It takes understanding and it takes time because there are many aspects to it, it is complicated. It also takes a power of will so strong that it can be trying on one’s heart. It is a process by which you must console and be willing to be consoled. You must reach out to places you may not want to reach out. And you may have to step down to a level that you don’t want to be on or step up to a level and face the facts in cold blood.
Forgiveness is a selfless act of love and compassion for another being. “To me [forgiveness] is finally letting go of the resentment felt towards [a] person for betraying whatever trust there was before...” (Anez Narayan) It is a way to restore trust so that you can move on and make the relationship stronger and more solid and also to have peace of mind. It is the first step on the road to redemption and it can be fulfilled even though at times it may seem impossible. It’s about forgetting and moving on from the mistake that has been made and to let go of the grudge that you’re holding on to.
We learn about forgiveness early on. As children we are told (sometimes forced) to say sorry for being mean to our siblings, taking something without asking, or talking out of turn. While writing this I watched my seven year old brother doodle battle scenes with monsters and I figured I should ask him this same question. His reply is as priceless as it gets: “what’s the word again…oh right, forgiveness. It’s like saying can I have that back please… like can I take it back. It’s like you weren’t paying attention like you forgot. So you want it back now.” Yes, it’s exactly like that- can I take back what I did because I forgot to think about how it may or could have hurt you. I made a mistake because I wasn’t paying attention to the consequences that could follow. So you ask for forgiveness for the mistake you’ve committed and hope that person can open up a part of their heart to let you back in.
Forgiveness is about renewal. It’s about cleansing your karma for the betterment of life. Because life is about enjoying the wonderful things that it has to offer. It’s about smiling and laughing and creating memories filled with love and warmth and not to dwell in the cold heard hatred of sorrow and deceit. It isn’t something that comes quickly but something we have to work on until the heart is healed to its full potential so that it beats brand new again. It must be continued and followed up until it is settled with a loving smile and a heartfelt hug. “It means you are ready to put the past behind you and give the person another chance to prove to you they were worth that second chance.” (Krishna Waland)
Forgiveness is about acceptance. Accepting human nature and the fact that we are able to make mistakes as well as be able to fix them. It is about accepting that people can hurt and be hurt by our actions. It is about learning. You learn to be stronger. You learn to move on and live with joy. You learn the feeling of love and you learn the sound of laughter and the meaning of life.
Forgiveness is about healing. It’s about becoming a better person than you were before because you realized you were in the wrong and you don’t want to be back in that same position any other time. It’s about maturing as a person and developing a broader sense of compassion. It doesn’t make you bigger or smaller it makes you equal. It makes you a human.
When asking for forgiveness you are vulnerable. Your heart is fragile and it’s calling out to be heard by your ears and for you to know that you are willing to fight for this friendship. It shows that you are willing to show that you’re in this life for a reason. It’s showing that you were misled and now you are on the right path again. Forgiveness is showing your true colors aren’t as drab as they had once appeared to be and that they are vibrant and full of life. It is a moment of truth that stands out and shines so brilliantly it breaks through the barrier of hatred surrounding your heart. It shows that you have feelings that are more than skin deep for a person and you continue to want them in your life. Forgiveness is more than saying sorry. (Anna Farris in Just Friends) It is about living up to what has been forgiven. For showing how glad you are for being forgiven every day- by not committing the same mistake again, living up to your promises, and wishing for a better day tomorrow for the two of you. Because tomorrow is always a better day and it is worth seeing through unprejudiced eyes and a heart filled with love not broken with the pain of sorrow.

My favorite quotes on Forgiveness:
It is not fair to ask of others what you are not willing to do yourself. –Eleanor Roosevelt
Look into your heart and you’ll find love. – Jason Mraz
Throughout life people will make you mad, disrespect you and treat you bad. Let God deal with the things they do, because hate in your heart will consume you too. –Will Smith
Words have the power to both destroy and heal. When words are both true and kind, they can change our world. - Buddha
To be wronged is nothing unless you continue to remember it. –Confucius

Thank you to all who helped put in their insight to making this blog possible: Akshay Patel, Anez Narayan, Jasmyne Patel, Kaylan Patel, Krishna Waland, Nisheet Shah, Sheetal Tandel and Sheyna Patel.

"Forgive us our trespass as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil"

Hangover.

Hungover.
The worse moments of my life compiled in one awful headache. A night filled with great memories but a morning filled with the reality that life is still here, just as you left it. Nothing’s changed even though you’d hope that with each shot it just might. Nope, my life is still here in shambles and pieces, nothing is put together as it should be, as I left it. So I toss my cookies over the garbage can and get rid of the poison that’s been brewing inside me but that doesn’t help shake off the reality that I did this to myself. These are the moments where I begin to realize I’m alone again fighting this war. Although some may find being alone calming, peaceful, serene and a time of great relaxation- it’s everything but that for a person like me who uses communication with others to relieve my stress, who needs person to person contact to understand that life is worth living, who needs to tell her stories because if they aren’t heard they’ll be bottled up inside and the little voices will change and alter them into my worst nightmares. Yup, this is the mind of menace.
My phone is my biggest problem. After all the ugly stuff of the hangover you check your phone and see the missed calls from worried friends, the unanswered calls from those few people you need the most but who could care less about you, and the text messages of people who are confused as to why they received “hy, cin u biiing my kieys oustidee..” when they’re 200 miles away from you. Yes, the phone is my worst enemy at times like these because the little demons come out and tell me stories of what I should do and how I should think and Viola! You leave people with a sense of confusion and people leave you with the notion that you’re nothing but a complete drunk. And you feel like a fool. I’ve thought about quitting many times. I can do bad all by myself without any liquid courage and just be myself. I can feed off the energy of others to feel whatever I wanna feel and be whatever I wanna be. But it never pans out because it shows up at every party ready for you and only you.
I’m starting to think that I have a problem and it’s only beginning to get worse. I’ve realized I’ve lost everything from my past relationship in high school- friends, family, fun. I realize I’m trying to fit into a margin somewhere in the middle when I was built to live on the edge. Fitting into the Indian culture that makes me who I am is a lot harder than it seems. I’ve got to put up with the evil stares, get rid of the supposed ‘bad images’ that people think I have, and fit into everyone else’s idea of what I should be. And somehow find peace and wholesomeness through this. And although I could do it, I won’t because I’ll just keep turning my head back to the girl I used to be, the girl who ended up getting trapped inside her own body and locked up in a straightjacket of an Indian conformist. I’ve got the shell of an Indian and the blood of a Mexican and it’s not my fault! I’m the victim of circumstance who ended up being given this life and try to fix it into happiness in the end- like it was a challenge from God. Well, isn’t that what life is? A challenge from God. It’s like He gives you the nails, the hammer, the boards, and the bricks and expects you to put it together into a perfect house that matches his blueprint in the end. If it is built to absolute perfection you’re access to heaven is granted. If not, to hell with you. My house gets built every Monday to Thursday when my friends help me put it together and I feel great but by Friday and Saturday the liquid pours, the old me comes out to feed on the world, and by Sunday morning my house has been burnt to the ground.
The main point is I feel out of place and it’s beginning to tear me apart. I’m going to be a genius one day and I feel like this tearing is going to break me so that I never even get to that point. I want the happy ending, I want the love story, I want the world at my feet but this crazy person inside me won’t let me live in the way I need to in order to have it. Ultimately, I may seem like I know what I’m doing. I may to seem to be having the happiest and most wonderful time of my life wherever I go but it’s everything but that. I’m struggling day by day. And that’s the reality. It’s the sad truth that comes back to haunt me after the night is over and the hangover at daybreak brings me back into the light that is my life.

"I wanna heal, I wanna feel. Like I'm close to something real. I wanna find something I've wanted all along...Somewhere I belong"

DR: Gods Among People

Excerpts from A Note Written By Cassandra Farrar: Maybe I need to Vent: "Science is not just a passion, it is my calling. and science and all that comes with it, is probably the most fascinating thing in the world to me. and what really BUGS ME is that there are people who are going into the medical field because of the MONEY and because of their demanding and one-dimensional parents who only WANT their children to do it. of course money is great, but if that's the only reason, it seriously makes me want to slap you and whoever believes that. maybe I'M not even cut out for this career, but i think i know damn well that this job is not for everyone. i know people have their reasons but becoming a doctor is NOT a job you do so your parents can get bragging rights and refuse to pay for any other means of education. it is NOT a job you do because you want money in the future. it is a job that you MUST be passionate about and something that you want so badly in order to further advance the findings in the science world, and actually make a difference. today's people and sciences' future does NOT need someone like that. this fucking world doesn't need more people who call themselves "doctors" just because they happened to get by in school. I wanted it ever since i had to watch my dad scream in a pillow every night because he was in so much pain. i wanted it so damn bad to HELP HIM and FIND A CURE for him, and to be able to say "it'll be okay" and actually mean it. and i still wanted it when i had to see my dad laying on the bathroom floor passed out, or when i found him when he was dead. like SERIOUSLY i grew up wanting this. I've wanted this for 10 years now and I'm finally 2 years into it. and it is SO upsetting to see people who aren't passionate about this! medicine and science will not advance if you are just someone who shows up and works just to work. We need to think about other people, we need to love to help people, and ENJOY LEARNING and enjoy our work rather than just working to work! i cannot express how excited i am for the next 12 YEARS of college I've left. i can honestly say I've never wanted anything more in my life than this, and i will damned if someone takes it away from me, or if someone else who can care LESS gets what i want.i am done :)"

Science is the love of my life. It's my strong suit and it's the area of knowledge that I honor & love with every ounce of blood in my body. It's responsible for the advancement of society, reason for technology, and the betterment of humanity. It is everywhere- in all the molecules of air that I breathe, the water I drink, the food I eat, and the bed that I lay my head down to sleep. It is a passion I have developed over my academic years ever since I won the hokey science fair in the sixth grade, got high marks on all my high school chemistry tests, and fell in love with the immense world of knowledge that lies within the study of biology. Many career paths open up for me as I pursue my degree in the science field- the pill counting pharmacist behind the counter at Walgreen's, the blood sample carrying white lab coated biochemist with eyes constantly in microscopes at Genetech, the morbidly pale mortuary scientist uncovering hidden lives of the dead, or the beloved healer of all, modern-day Jesus Christ with tons of money in the bank doctor. Each career path carries with it years worth of intense studying, hardships, and a heavy price tag that only a few can afford. To be a doctor you have to be strong-willed and you have to really want it. However, I have bounced back between being a pharmacist and a doctor a thousand times and I still have not come to a solid decision as to exactly what I want to do with my life. To be a doctor takes time. Time that I don't have. Or more so, time I think I don't have. It requires you to have hope in the most hopeless and helpless of all situations. It begs you to shed light on the most darkest and abysmal of all areas. It involves courage and strength of not just a human, but of a warrior, of a fighter, of a God. To become a doctor is an act of God. With your hands you save a life, with your hands you bring a mother to their first born child, with your hands you bring a father back from the dead to his son's first baseball game, with your hands you allow a lover to wipe the tears from their spouses eyes and cry no more. You pull the curtain over death for a while longer, you create time- you create life.
You have the ability to bring people ease from the pains they face.
You take compassion for humanity and love each person's life like they are your brother, mother, father, and sister.
Going through the process of being a doctor requires you to put Your Life on hold for the betterment of humanity. Being a doctor may put a hold on your relationships, may distance you from friendships, and may make you a stranger to your own kin. It requires you to dig a hole, plant a tree and watch it grow tall enough so you can climb up it and not come down for a few years but stay up in the branches and learn everything you can to help those who wait for you to blossom and bloom into the MD you will become as you descend back down. It takes away your social life, it tugs at your nerves, it elevates your stress level and it can ultimately kill you but at the same time make you stronger. Doctors are heroes in my eyes. They save the world. Science saves the world. And to me it is a meaningful subject that can save the planet which we all need to care more about.
However, it's hard to become a doctor though you may think it's easy or that Indians become doctors all the time. This is the sad reality behind the stereotype that we live amongst. For most young Indian girls, similar to many cultures, becoming highly educated is rare. In my own country of India the literacy rate for men was around 73% whereas for women it was 48% (taken from a CIA projected estimate in 2001) compared to the literacy rate for both men and women in the United States stands at an equal percentage of 99%. (2003 est.) We are all familiar with the glass ceiling that is placed on us as women in not only India or the United States but around the globe. As women we stand united and try to fight this injustice but sometimes it's not that easy. When it comes to education, even in the United States, it's hard to aspire to our highest goals. I know a girl whose dedicated in her area of study but it may take her a while to become profound or get up to the level she aspires to. Her parents commend her on her studies and have faith in her to follow her dreams but the beady eyes of her family members think differently. She got into the car that evening furious as hell and vented out to both my mother & I about the course of events that had just occurred. A family member asked what her career of choice was and when she told them Psychology, the family member replied back with an unneeded suggestion of "why don't you do something else?" The something else meaning something less complicated, something a lot more simple, something that required less time in school and more time finding a husband, getting married, and settling down. This sad reality was brought to me through this girl and for me it was a mind changing.
My parents are best described as the most lenient Indian parents that you'll ever meet. I mean, of course they are, their MY parents. They let me do what I want when I want and maybe they should be charged for my guilty behaviors but the long leash of freedom they've got me on came with alot of background that you'll hear about soon enough. I've always gotten the grades that please the eyes of my parents and with it comes the leniency. My parents have always encouraged me to chase my dreams and my grandmother, who is all to pleased to brag about anything, can't be happier that I've chose a field in Healthcare. She constantly tells me to go off and be an MD especially when I try to help her find a way to cure her own pains by taking in more potassium or fiber.
I tried to comfort my friend the best I could and let her know she has the right to do what she wants with her life whether it takes her a thousand years or just a few. I couldn't comprehend how life could really be this demoralizing. Welcome to the real world of Indians.
The traditionalist Indians that exist within everyones family don't want you to pursue your career or do what makes you happy. They want whats going to be the fastest way to get you married and procreating to take on the family name. They don't want you to find Prince Charming and have him sweep you off your feet because Indian Life isn't a fairy tale. It's a hardship. They want you to go and get married and fall in love afterwards. This also is a stereotype because it's not this bad, I just make it out to be because I'm the liberalist Americanized Indian girl that you'd just love to hate because I run my mouth on the world as it is, as I see it, and as is real. And the real sad reality is that girls in my position can often be mislead or disheartened to follow their dreams. I, myself, have gone down this road wondering 'will i ever make it?' If I pursue this dream in Med will I be good? Am I cut out? The answer should always be YES. If you ever raise doubt in yourself, you will fail. The answer is always YES. Think of the positive especially when those around you begin to raise doubt in yourself. For those who need more inspiration than this. There's the phenomenal Eleanor Roosevelt.

"Do what you feel in your heart to be right- for you'll be criticized anyway. You'll be damned if you do, and damned if you don't."

-Eleanor Roosevelt.

"Never allow a person to tell you no who doesn't have the power to say yes."

-Eleanor Roosevelt.

Ready, Set, Fire.

I live in the Tenderloin and most of you already know this. You may think no big deal. You may think it sucks. You may think it’s unfortunate. You may think nothing at all. Welcome to my average night in the Tenderloin:
Today I have so much rage in me that I can barely type. The only thing going through my head is ‘I wish I had a gun!’ It’s a typical evening and I’m sitting in my living room slaving away reading countless textbooks, writing notes, and doing question after question. Laura, the handicapped and crippled woman who lives upstairs is starting her normal amount of bullshit. Every night around the same time she brings home a visitor of a different sort. She always has a story claiming that this visitor is helping her do her laundry, carry groceries or give her medication. Each visitor looks like some random hoodlum off the street, a homeless alcoholic, or at times a coked out prostitute. They are all unique characters of the bizarre play that takes place here at this famous hotel, my home. My grandparents scream their heads off for no damn reason and tell her she cannot have visitors after visiting hours are over. The rules of the hotel clearly explain to her that visiting hours are between a certain time and she as well as everyone else must adhere to those rules regardless of disability. My parents being the pushovers that they are always allow her to get what she wants as a way of just not having to deal with it. I, on the other hand, put my foot down especially if I’m watching the office which I rarely do for this obvious reason. I will yell and scream and do whatever it takes. It may not be the right way but it works for me. As I’m dealing with Laura who is always up for complaining I hear shouts from outside. My grandma is already heading to the fire escape and I hear her yelling out to the bottom of the street “GO AWAY!” and a loud man’s voice booms back “SUCK MY DICK BITCH.” My grandmother is a 76 year old religious and conservative Indian woman and the fact that someone would have the audacity to scream this at her made me furious. I ran to the fire escape and the wrath seeped out as I saw the man’s face. He used to be allowed to visit here until he lashed out at my grandmother and attacked another tenant. After five minutes of yelling back and forth I had had enough. The blood in my veins was boiling and if I had a gun in my hand all six rounds would have been fired easily on point, with precision, and on target which at that point was his head, heart, and groin. The man called out verbal, racial, and downright degrading slurs mostly along the lines of “you can suck my dick” and “go call your dad to come suck my dick too” and “ill fucking beat your ass bitch.” This was outrage and my patience had escaped me a long time ago. How dare he? Now I had already hated this man who was yelling back at me for a long time now. One day when we were on vacation this same man had snuck into the building much like he does every night and beat up another tenant living in our hotel as well as pushed my grandmother. My parents were furious and he was forbidden to enter the property or we would call the police. He’s done it every night and has never been caught. This man has very violent behavior and as it seems he is very sick in the head. He is dangerous and I am unprotected. I can’t do anything because I don’t have a gun. And my family’s security is in danger. ( The video on my page shows him having convulsions right outside my house an hour after our altercation. ) He is obviously unwell.
This has always been the case in my life. Every time I walk out the building there is a good chance that I might get mugged by this man or any another. There is a possibility of rape and even death. There is a possibility that this could happen to my elderly grandparents or my young brother who is only seven years old. About a year ago my mom was on her way to work. It was one o’ clock in the afternoon and she was walking down the street like she usually does until some lady mugged her and left her with seven stitches above her eyebrow, a few court cases and nightmares for a lifetime. When I first learned about what happened to my mom I broke down in tears of rage. I was crying uncontrollably but more than that my insides were fighting against themselves. The blood wanted to pour out. My veins wanted to split. And my hair wanted to catch fire. The whites of my eyes turned bloody red and I felt like my brain was going to burst. I was frustrated because I wasn’t there to protect her. I was frustrated she had to be put in such a position, my own mother! I was frustrated to think that a human being could do that to another human being. There was no point calming me down so my friends just let me be. It’s the best thing to do when I get in this zone. Rage was burning through my insides and all the water in the world couldn’t cool me down. It’s a sickness. It’s my fury and it cannot be dealt with by anyone but me. At times I feel God is testing me but at times I feel like it’s just a step closer to the point that I’ve pretty much almost reached. It’s unexplainable. And for a person who talks nonstop, I have no words.
Tonight I am typing this up as the steam pours through my fingertips and every other pore throughout my body burns. My tears hot like boiling water rushing down my cheeks and my brain is exhausted from the over heat. I don’t have patience. I don’t have calm. I don’t have serenity. I am anger. And there is nothing that can be done to stop what I’m feeling. I am filled with hatred for the world. I am filled with resent to the people who gave birth to me including God himself. I am filled with passion with the conclusion that I have come to that this place is sick and I do not deserve such a life as this.
I texted my father after tonight’s incident the following- Final conclusion: either we move out or I’m buying a gun. Period. Make a choice.
God forbid the day I ever say I would buy a gun. I like their mechanics. The masterpiece of the machine that it is but its purpose is immoral. Guns have been around me since my early teen years and it’s no surprise to those who know me. I’ve held guns, handled them, loaded them and fired. It’s not a pretty site. It’s not a nice sound. It’s not a good look. For me, not at all. I’ve had them shot at me and around me. I’ve dealt with people in hospital beds wounded by the burning bullets of somebody’s hate or more often their mistake. Stray bullets breaking families. Confused bullets causing rivalries. Bullets causing suffering. Nothing compares to how many tears have been tasted caused by a trigger being pulled and released in a swift movement too soon. No one has the power to kill anyone or anything for that matter. No one can hate someone so much they wish them death. Such hatred and power does not exist in the realm of humanity. However, today in me, it has been born. The wrath. The venom. The vengeance. The hatred. The sinful. I screamed my head off the minute my mom walked into the house. She had missed the episode that took place while picking up my sister.
I hope your reading this. I hope it makes you cry. I hope it brings you both to tears because I have cried enough over this god forsaken hell hole that I call my life. What do I have to do to make you UNDERSTAND. I’ve forfeited my education at the University of San Francisco to go to San Francisco State University where I will probably have to struggle my way to graduation which has been ungratefully set back to possibly 5 or 6 years rather than just four due the state’s economy. I have sacrificed the 30 grand a year in attempt that the money saved would be seen as a way to buy a home! A home in a nice part of town, a place where my brother can ride around the block on his new bicycle and see something a lot more pleasant then hmm let’s say a prostitute overdosed on drugs laying on the sidewalk half naked. A place where my sister and I can walk to and from school without feeling uncomfortable about men gawking and whistling and cat calling at us like we are cheap whores for sale. A place where my grandparents can walk without me having to worry about if they’ll make it home safe. This place is not safe. This place is not home. It can never be home.
I’ve put up with the Tenderloin and this hotel for the last 20 years of my life and hated every minute of it. I’ve sav’d it out and yes it’s made me twice as smart as your average teenager. The ghetto of the Tenderloin has many life lessons but the one lesson we’re about to learn is that it makes me unwell. I hate living here among the scum. I hate living here and not knowing what humanity is. I hate seeing the things that I have see which have stained bloody and tainted images to the backs of my eyeballs so I can’t sleep with peace at night. Most importantly I hate walking home from people who don’t understand the sickness that I’ve been living in. The disease that infects my soul with a hatred for all the people living here.
I pleaded to my mother this evening. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO to make it clear that I can’t live this way anymore. Sure, I can get up and leave. Pack my shit and get an apartment somewhere out there but they’d still be here and it would tear me apart. Should I slit my wrists in the name of the Tenderloin? Oh wait, no that doesn’t help. Or should I do a hunger strike until you have to all hold me down and force feed me? That didn’t work either. Should I contemplate suicidal schemes in my mind and say them out loud at random until you can’t trust me to be alone anymore? Ha! That never worked. Or do I do what I can and simply purchase a gun, buy ammunition and be prepared to use it? Will that make you want to buy a house? Will it finally make you take me seriously since all the above didn’t work? Will you finally see the wrath that escapes from the beauty that’s composed in tight shell? My life is lived in a box. It’s a tight box and my brain has no space to breathe. My words slip out and it stirs trouble. But to me, it’s only foreshadowing the storm ahead. I have a demented mind. Welcome to my nightmare.

Happy Birthday To You

It’s the middle of September and as we crossed the parking lot to go back to the apartment I felt droplets of rain fall from the gloomy skies above me. Summer was over and fall was beginning. The daylight-savings time would switch back to standard time soon and the sandals and flip flops would be replaced by rain boots and Uggs. The cold was welcoming and being beneath the foggy overcast protected from the sun (kinda) was soothing. We had just finished a big lunch at Olive Garden and the heat from the calories burning through our veins was warming us up on the inside so we could bear the cold walk back to the apartment. Krishna’s birthday was finally over and it was relieving to not have to watch everything I say around her in case I let the surprise slip. Never in a million years did I think I would be sitting in Krishna’s apartment with Pooja setting up for her surprise party while keeping in constant contact with Sheyna to make sure things ran smoothly. Surprisingly this was exactly what I was doing Saturday morning. My anxiety was kicking in slightly but didn’t come into full swing until people began to arrive. Krishna’s birthday had to be special, it had to be fantastic, and it had to perfect.
Krishna was my study buddy, the alarm clock, my bus ride companion, my new Indian friend, the shopping buddy, the only other girl in the group, the balance of good, the dayi, the Jimmy Cricket, the psychologist, the duo to my solo, the antaksari partner, the lift me up when I’m sad, the don’t give a fuck about no hoe when I cared all too much, the save me when I’m drowning in emotion. She’s helped me through a lot of troubled times in recent months. Granted I haven’t known her for years but for the time that I have she’s constantly proved to be a great friend. A lot of people call her all the time and depend on her to solve problems and issues. She’s kept everything in. She’s like Pandora’s Box. I can vent, you can vent, everyone vents and she takes all evils in, shuts each story in its individual box, and keeps it to herself. Never lets it out. She’s kept all my demonic thoughts to herself and helped me calm down when I’m ready to lose it. And for this reason and many more I’m blessed to say that I actually have at least one down friend.
Sheyna and I planned the entire party from start to finish and she was surprised at how much “bonding” we did without her. From jumping on Muni, sampling snow cones at party city, and eating turkey sandwiches we made up a lot of lies to get everything done the way it should be. Many people came to celebrate either because it was a party or because they actually cared that it was her birthday. People from many places as far out as Modesto to just down the hall came through and I know that it meant a lot to see each of them. Besides all the unnecessary drama and too-over-the-top commotion, I’m glad she had a great time throughout the night.
Overall, Krishna is an influential person and she lives the life of an absolute princess. She’s the girl who is a mystery and who is intriguing for those that don’t quite know her. She’s the girl you would love to hate, and although many may, the hatred doesn’t get in the way of her having a good time with those she loves, who are few but plenty. (I’m glad to be one of those people) She's not the type of person whose gonna be your best friend today and leave you in the exhaust fumes tomorrow. Although she’s almost a year younger than me she’s taught me a lot about life especially on friendships and the people that come and go. I met her last year at Navratri and from the start I thought she was bad news. The all too pure for my life of sin. Until I realized slowly, day by day, that this was the dose of sanity I'd been waiting for, the balance that I needed to reach. I went from being way out there on the left wing to coming closer to the center by being drawn to the gravitational force. Krishna is the girl who my parents would praise if I ever make it to my wedding day in one piece, the girl who my family would be glad that I brought around, the girl that my brother will remember because he got ice cream the day he met her, the girl who has influenced me to have hope in the hopeless and be a better person. Thank you, love!!! I hope you had the greatest birthday ever because you deserve it more than anything. Things may be shitty and we may be seeing the gym a lot, if you know what I mean, but you’ve got a great family and great friends who adore you and that’s all ya’ll ever need. And I know you’re hella reading this to Sheyna right now going, THAT’S ME THAT’S ME, She’s talking about me!!! =]

Quote of the Day:
Nikita [look of great enthusiasm]: Oh my god guys! I just realized why it’s called Navratri. It’s because Nav means nine and rat means night and since its nine days they call it Navratri, nine nights.
[Blank stare from Sheyna & Krishna]
Krishna [after a minute or so looks to Sheyna, sarcastically]: Please go get her a cookie! Please!!!

"Stop and Stare, you start to wonder why you're here not there, and you'd give anything to get what's fair, but fair ain't what you really need..can't you see what i see"

Throw Ya Hands Up

I'm sitting at the Stones town Mall bus stop and since it’s going to take another 13 minutes for the bus, I'm doing what I do best- observe the world around me and people watch. It’s a better day out on this part of town than it was yesterday. It’s breezy but the sun is shining at its full potential. It’s about 3:15pm and that's just the perfect time to reminisce about my high school years as I watch the female students down the street at Mercy High School walk by to catch the M or hang out at the mall. The familiar groups of girls in plaid skirts walk by. Some hang at the bus stop waitin for the 28, others climb the platform for the M train like me, and some groups head to Stonestown, the ultimate afterschool pit stop. Back in freshman year we hung out there all the time! I can't begin to count how many times I've been kicked out of that mall for shoplifting, disturbing the peace, or being there during school hours. I see a few girls I used to know and they smile. I wonder if they're thinking ‘God, she so different now.’ Truth is – I am. I've given up the Southpole jackets and Airforce sneakers for a flowy floral tank top with some flip flops and jeans. I chose a suburban look over the ghetto look I used to sport. Either way it’s a lot better than her all-too-high plaid skirt, long socks, and side ponytails. Ah, the single lonely Riordan boy probably trying to score a date to homecoming walks along. Reluctantly he makes his way to the corner alone and disappears. Better luck next time, chump! Back in the day there would always be a group of Riordan boys waiting at the tops of the stairs. They’d stand there and we’d see them from the class windows and giggle. Some with braces, others with the nicest and cleanest shoes money could buy, some playing music loudly from their mp3 compatible sidekicks. All as desperate as the other one, each waiting for the 3:05 bell to ring and the skirts to come flying out. The bus drives by and a new group of girls catch my attention as I wait on the platform. They are squawking at the top of their lungs to a girl not too far from me on the platform. They exchange words back and forth. The girl waiting for the train tells them she's heading home. The girls yell out 'Por que!?' she tells them she's gotta watch her younger brother and do homework for English. 'Ok, te veo manana' I notice another girl walking ahead of the pack and see the white smoke blow out smoothly from her mouth. I notice the cancer stick in hand and the bright purple lighter in the other. Her hair is in a big mushroom bun propped to the side and she looks angry. Her mannerisms from afar remind me of a girl I used to know. Smoking a cigarette, smoking anything, popping pills, being in the wrong places at the wrong times, hanging out with all the wrong people, throwing crazy parties that the police had to stop and all while drinking to my heart’s content are images that flash forward from my not-too-long ago past. I've grown a lot since then but the old me is still resilient beneath this all. And when I see her it takes me back to the past that I'm all too familiar with. I've given up a lot of my old habits…
Finally the bus is here and I hop on. It’s already pretty packed with State students but I manage to find a seat. I try to let go of the images swirling around my mind and shake myself back to present day. The next stop takes me right back to three years ago when I waited at the very same bus stop every day for this same train. A gang load of Mercy girls hop on the bus. They're talking about school and teachers that I'm familiar with. One girl yells out ' Ms. Miner hexa doesn't like me and for no reason!' Hmm maybe she doesn't like you because the word hexa means six and nothing else in the English language like the way you’re stating it. They're talking at elevated volumes and my mind is in a daze. I can't wait for this bus ride back to my hellish life to be over. I look for a familiar face, someone to talk to about this agony tearing up my insides. And that's when I saw her. Sara, the first friend I ever met at Mercy. And the moment was as ironic as it could possibly get. Sara was Arabic, her family came from Jordan and although she was Muslim & I was Hindu-we clicked from day one. Maybe because we were both from similar cultures, maybe because we got our eyebrows threaded not waxed, maybe because we were public school kids who were forced to go to Mercy due to lack of better options. Maybe it was fate-the same fate that allowed me to run into her today on the M train as I contemplated on my high school years alone. She came up to me and the expression on her face matched mine. 'I don't remember ever being this loud and obnoxious and crazy!' Truth is we probably were and a lot worse. If anyone from class of ‘08 knew loud and crazy it was defined in Sara & I. We were made to sit on opposite ends of classrooms, our friends constantly had to shush us up so they could be heard in conversation and we were the most heard voices in the cafeteria on any given day. You'll be sure to read about this chick in my book but this blog isn't about her. It’s about the thing that encompasses her, the thing that brought me to her, the reason I recognized her face on this bus- Mercy high school.
Mercy high school built my character into the knuckle headed son of a bitch, or daughter of a bitch that I am. I was a public school child who was wrongfully placed in this hellish Catholic school with nothing but GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS. I always hated girls ever since my tom boyish days as a kid. I played with the boys, I was comfortable with the boys, and I befriended the boys a lot easier than girls. Why? Boys are straight up and real. Girls lie and deceive. I thought this way for a long time until I realized. Everyone lies. So much so that sometimes you can barely trust yourself. Coming to an all girls school was tough and although I made many friends, I’ve had many enemies. I’ve let them all go now and taken a more Zen filled path of life-trying to stay calm instead of blowing up and busting a head or two open, look on the bright side of everything versus sulking in darkness with nothing, be friends rather than enemies, and always make love not war. I’ve started to realize that I’ve turned into somewhat of a pushover. I took all the things my mother saw in me as negative like the violence, the aggression, the anger, the withdrawals, the pain, the brutal, the upfrontness, the direct and discontent and turned it into good like kindness, laughter, learning to ignore, calming down, talking and venting and keeping things to yourself. Only to sit here and realize I don’t know what I’m doing.
I kill them with kindness and they only come back to peck at my flesh some more. I mind my own business when my business is constantly brought up. I ignore your snide comments and remarks only to feel my heart rip a little more under the pressure. I calm down and don’t react when all I want to do is punch you square in the face till the blood runs down my fingers. It’ll make me happy to see that you’re in pain and can’t do shit about it. I’m fighting an uphill battle not only with myself but with the “friends” and their multiple identities around me. And I’m finally sick of keeping up with the Jones. I’m done with faking it and trying to belong when obviously I stand out like a sore thumb. I’m in the spotlight and your dragging me to the darkness where my mind sets free a different side of my being. My old friends look at me like WHAT HAPPENED. We all thought HyphyQueen died. We all thought La India Maria got deported. We all thought the Nikita we once knew changed up, switched up, and told us to bite the dust. I have multiple personalities too but deep down there’s only one Nikita, there only can be. And this is her quest in bringing it all together. It’s time to close yet another chapter. The chapter where I give too much care and put too much effort to those who aren’t as worthy as I assumed. The chapter where I’m the sucka, the low life, the disrespected, the look down upon and the one with nothing at all. It’s time to give up on the dreams and hopes that I had in you and me. It’s time to give up all the love I’ve got to give because I’ve given it all away. It’s time to get up off the floor, dust myself off and throw my hands up. It’s time for the flower on my back to wilt and for it to transform into the venomous snake that’s ripping through my chest. Don’t give me your stupid pity. I’m changing once more. And I really just don’t give a fuck. Something I should have done a long time ago. Because I remember the old me as crazy as she was, as scandalous as she seemed, and as troubled as she may have been – I was happy then. And I’m going to walk around with this real smile on my face and be happy now.

"Whose to know if your soul will fade at all? The one you sold to fool the world. You lost your self esteem along the way. " -Seether

Fraudulence.

When I told her I was only kinda sad that I was going home I really meant I was kinda happy to be going. Home is where the heart is. It is where the writer comes out from the wrath and it's a point in time where I, the menace, can finally breathe again. Living in the Tenderloin has never felt like a home but it's a place where I am comfortable. A place where I fit into my own skin. I can be anything I want- I can cry, kick, scream, and laugh. Sing like no ones listening and dance like no ones watching. Say what I want or not say anything at all. Act a fool and all without feeling an ounce of regret, without a criticizing glance or judgemental minds. It's a place where I can just be me. A place where I sort through my issues and see what my next move should be.

When I hugged each person goodbye I took part of their spirit with me because I know I'm gonna need strength to face this cold and dark lonely night. As I sat waiting for the bart train at Macarthur station I contemplated on the weekend and the confusion and anger burns through my body like hard liquor spilling down your throat. I don't like showing that I'm sensitive even though that's what I am. I can compose myself in front of the crowd for the sake of everyone's well being because NOT causing attention to yourself is the right thing to do. I've put the old Nikita, the one who did all the wrong things, in a grave six feet under but the ghost lingers on my shoulder and is waiting for its chance at revenge. The new nikita is the improved version but that Miss Nice Girl routine is getting tired. I'm sick of keeping it real while sitting in a boat with no paddle in a sea of phonies. I'm sick of trying to keep up with you when your tripping me purposely to make me fall behind this race. If feeling this way is being on your level then I'm taking off to the next page and closing the book on the chapter your still stuck on.

The emotions this weekend have finally spilt over the brims of my eyes. I've finally lost my words and feelings for just about everyone. My helpless grip of compassion remains in hopes of salvation from this insanity that I'm living in. Since when did the world fall onto my shoulders?

I've got some decent friends who until this point I've adored wholeheartedly. I've taken them as they are with their flaws and perfections. But my heart's been shatted by the knife you're secretly stabbing through my back as you lean to give me the last hug. It's a sucker punch, a blow from the backside, it's unexpected. It's also quite shocking to hear coming from your mouth.
I have a few good friends that I hold high against the world and who I'd do anything for. I'd stand next to you in any fight. I'd let you lean on me in times of need. I'll fly across the country to come visit or run my ass to catch your show. I'd leave you be if that's what you wish. I'll let you give me bruises and scars from random drunken nights. I'll give you advice if your not sure what to do. I'll plan surprise birthday dinners for you because I know it'll make you happy. I'll put your pictures all over the wall just to be reminded of you. I'll spend the night if your scared to be alone. I'll forgive you for any mistake. I'll take random anthropology classes with you just so you won't die of boredom alone. I'll let you confide in me your deepest secrets. I'll crash picnics! Heck! I'll even pack up your stuff and bring it to you with noserings in hand because I know you lost the last pack I bought. These are the ones I care about. These are the ones who I hold dear. These are the ones who mean everything to me and who I'm afraid to lose especially over stupid drama and jealousy. You simply can't measure the love I have for them against your own plain skin. [hint hint: Move On!] Recent months have made me a changed person. The old me still remains beneath the skin and some times her venom pours out as it is now. I'm trying to contain it as hard as I can.

It's sad to say that I let you have the power to break me down but like I said every little thing acts like the cherry on top of this sundae of my demise. And it's finally arrived. Here I am having a long and hard talk with you about how we need to stick together and be real with each other. How I care about your friendship and how concerned I am that you're not feeling well. Only to find out your just as bad as the rest. You're no different from those you say you hate. And your as quick to judge others as they are to judge you. Your envious, fradulent, and delusional at best.
Jealousy has never been a friend of mine. Growing up in a neighborhood like the one I'm from, it's hard not to be jealous at some point, wishing you had what others did and only dreaming of getting what you really want. However, you have what you have in this life because it is given to you or it's earned. You work hard to achieve what you recieve. Jealousy and envy are turn off traits and show that you have a lack of confidence and low self-esteem. I've put in alot of effort to get to where I stand today and I do it proudly with my head held high. You do so by talking shit and making everyone seem lower than yourself so you feel better when deep down your lousy. Friends that are envious don't belong in my life and can't be called friends at all. I've had a lot of run-ins with people like these and I just push them out of life so they don't even matter.

The situations I'm in have messed up my emotional pysche to the max. I'm unsure of where to turn to and I'm not sure who I can trust. I'm not sure whose jealous or envious but I'll say that I feel bad for them. The balance of my life is thrown off and it sucks but brigther days are comign soon. Through this "drama" that's been stirring- I've been upset for a good portion of my labor day weekend. I've been in a constant uphill battle of upset and anger with a good friend of mine and kept 'em in the dark with how I feel. It's just because I don't know what to say and I'm not trying to say the wrong thing. I realized now what is important. Our happiness being together with our friends or my anger for you trying to tear us all apart.

Revenge is sweet and karma's a bitch. I've got a lot more to lose than you do so learn the rules of the game before you start trying to play especially with me as your main opponent.

I got no time for haters and it's unfortunate that you turned out to be one. Hope you turn around from your shambled and shitty situation and find the truth within yourself.

The Sundae of My Demise

I packed up everything that you asked for.
As I was running up and down the stairs, the memories flying up through the carpet, whispering from the walls and embedded in the air, it slowly ate me alive. Ok that's just too dramatic! It was sad, period. It's not just the thought of you moving that's fucking me up. It's everything around it. Everything that's happening around me has become the foundation of my emotional overdrive lately. Each issue piling on high like the layers of a mountain high cake. And you, the cherry on top of the sundae of my demise.

I got drunk way too fast. Captain Mo chased down with a fabulously lousy Four Loco being my recipe for disaster. I thought it'd be awkward hanging out with old friends again but it wasn't. I thought it'd be weird walking into the building, going up the elevators, and chilling just doing my thing. But it wasn't at all. It was welcoming much like it always has been. Only thing was that a part was missing. I guess this is just how it's going to be. How it's got to be. I had a talk with a "more than just a friend" friend of yours. And I've come to a realization that you both have emotions that run more than just skin deep and compassion for each other that's been covered up by misunderstanding. I'm trying to be the guardian angel of all sorts and am attempting to bring everyone together. It's been alot harder than I thought. Apparently, we all have tons of issues with our EMOTIONS that we can't seem to deal with. Our ego's are the size of 18 wheelers and we can't seem to get around them. We act like we are the bigger person but really we're standing less than 2 feet tall. I'm trying to find the slivers of happiness between the thick lines of hate and the search is harder than finding a needle in a haystack.

We've got the lives of average teenagers. It's a cycle we all go through. A process everyone can relate to. And it's inevitable. We've gone through our break ups, lost friends, gained friends, had crushes, been rejected, got a fat pimple the day before a big event, and moved forward into maturity each and every day. We've turned the page and lived for the tomorrow that's coming. Soon we'll all be turning 20 (or 19)! We're getting closer to the "adulthood" we've been raised for. We'll be expected to do certain things and act in certain ways and treat each other different, maybe even better. Ultimately, we'll have to get over it. Over any hurdle that comes in our path, over the obstacles life sets in front of us, over the hardships that God challenges us to face.

I apologize for the tone of these entries lately. My mind is in a dark place. Due to my emotions and stress I feel unwell. And yes, I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown. I'm coming out of my denial and standing up to the light and letting it be known. The wrath of the menace is seizing a hold stronger than I thought and the demon in my soul has awoken with venom in its veins. I guess you have to hit rock bottom before you can climb to the top again.

I haven't posted pictures on my blog recently because yes there's been a change. The pictures and the memories that come alive through them don't mean the same thing that they used to. I've been assured by some that things are getting better slowly. Time is the healer of all wounds and only time will tell what's real and what's not. I hope it's all gonna be okay. For the sake of sanity.

"And some people got problems man. They got awful complications. Other people got perfect situations, with no provocation. But don't we all, don't we just got to give a little time. Maybe give a friend a call instead of making him confused. What a terrible thing for you to do. What an awful thing for you to say"

-Confused by Jack Johnson

EDUCATE ME NOW!

In the wake of a new semester that has been nothing but chaos to thousands and thousands of students, I found a moment to compose myself and explain to the best of my ability of WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?
Before today I didn't realize how bad the situation we've gotten ourselves into in the stage of California was. As I walked onto campus I could immediately feel the tense- students running frantically across campus, dozens of students jamming into small classes rooms looking for ways to add a class, and so many long faces from those who have to wait another semester more in order to graduate. San Francisco State University as well as other state universities across the board are no longer four-year institutions but rather bullshit-waste-of-a-year institutions in my book. Teachers take roll tediously making sure every name is called and quickly crossing off those who are absent in a flash, so they can add the next eagerly wait-listed student.
During registration over the summer I was morbid to see so many zero number of seats to classes I was dying to add for Fall 09. I figured I could walk on campus and add the ones I needed but as many of us found out- that's not the case.
English and Math- the two MOST needed classes in this country, in any field or career, and in schools, period. Here at San Francisco State, English took the most damage it seems, offering only a handful of sections for English 214 ( a pre-req to many majors and major classes needed by hopeful students ). They are simply not available and have "caps" as to how many students they are allowed to let in. Oh, and uhh so many sections were cut from English 214, i forgot to mention.
Student fees went up 32%, teachers are getting paid 10% less, and it's 100% ridiculous in the eyes of an aspiring scientist like myself as well as other students wanting to learn. So why and how is this happening to us? I'm not an expert because before today I never once looked at any article that said words such as "tax" "cut" "financial" "budget" because MONEY is evil and I hate it. However, it affects me and my livelihood as I have seen today and it affects everyone else too. So for all of those who don't know anything- READ, learn and EDUCATE yourself because the school system just isn't interested in letting you know the facts.

THE FACTS (that I'm explaining the best I can)

• San Francisco was hit the hardest by the budget cuts. Newsom signed a $6.8 million budget in July 2009. $2 million of that cut go to my beloved are of PUBLIC HEALTH. Where are they hitting hardest? "reducing operating room hours at San Francisco General Hospital and scaling back funding for nonprofit outpatient service programs for mental health and substance abuse."( Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/08/13/BARE129VFH.DTL#ixzz0PGVvyNVa") There is also some issues about Municipal Transportation funding being used for Newsom's employee payroll.
• Let's not blame ARNOLD for everything! I do think we could have got a better governor for our beautiful sunshine state but it's not entirely his fault. PROPOSITION 13 was passed in 1978, created by Howard Jarvis. It put a cap on property taxes for the state (the property tax could not exceed 1% of the value of the property.) It reduced the property tax by more than 50% annually. For years since Prop 13 was passed (by 2/3 majority) governors and the legislators of our once great state have tried to keep everything balanced for both the happiness of the Californians and Proposition 13. The balance has flipped and public schools are losing over 7 billion dollars and maybe another 5 billion more. We are cutting costs on the most important things society needs:

1. Health- to take care of our citizens and help them to see tomorrow
2. Law- to make sure that our citizen's well-being is taken care of and everyone is treated equal
3. Education- to educate our youth so they can help fix the problems and crisis today, tomorrow.

• There are 23 CSU campuses throughout California and over 22,000 faculty members who have agreed to take two unpaid days per month off. Welcome the CSU FURLOUGHS. You're off of school and so is your teacher but you are still required to follow up the online lecture (if there is one) and responsible for the material that would have been covered that day. WHAT IT MEANS- It means teachers are getting paid 10% less by taking this unpaid mandatory time off. Although a few extra days off may seem great to many students it's actually a real bummer. It puts our education out on the line- like it's been for a while now. We're required to keep the speed with LESS class time. Students will fall through the cracks and as the time goes we're only getting dumbed down more and more. The bright side? It's helping us with the budget. The furloughs can save up to $275 million out of the deficit of $584 million (partly caused by schools getting funded 20% less by the state). I haven't even started to talk about the 10 UC schools and 110 Community Colleges that are facing similar issues of equal magnitude through the state including a $6 fee increase per class, or something like that.
• What's more? SPRING ADMISSIONS to San Francisco State University are closed. Many of you who wish to transfer mid-semester and come to state for Spring- cannot. It is a closed semester. So if your in- Great! Sit down, have a seat (if you can find one in any class you choose) If your trying to get in during Spring (approx 35,000 students yearly), wait for Fall 2010 when there will be twice as many students trying to get in and barely any classes for any of us.

Altogether now- WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN!? Plain and simple to see-

1. Classes will be twice as full- creating a constrained learning environment for students and less one-on-one teacher to student, and a larger student to teacher ratio which is statistically proven to help students learn better when the ratio is kept low.
2. Less faculty- dozens of teachers have been laid off which results in less classes being offered. Less programs- for those who need special programs to help graduate, so sorry. Less services- that will help you with advising and counseling and even UNDERSTANDING what to do and how to do it.
3. Financial Aid: Less Money, More Money- Students were expected to pay a 32% increased student fee this year despite there were less classes and services offered. Financial aid packages have been cut which puts more students and their parents into the rut of all ruts. Students supporting themselves will have to work more hours meaning they'll have to cut down on class and study time- things they need in order to excel. Parents will spend less time with their kids and attempt to take in more work hours to fund their child's dwindling education. The concepts a bit backwards- spending more and receiving less? I thought so too. Such is life for a Californian student.

A friend and I recently had a quick conversation about what this all means- the pay cuts, the lay offs, school fees, etc. It means that in a world has come to an end. The sky is literally going to fall and the shit has hit the fan. Let's forget that we have these budget cuts not only in California but all over the country and world? We're forgetting a few key factors-

• The Millennium Development Goals which is a goal set out by 192 United Nation members and countless other organizations. It is a 8 goal system that plans to eradicate poverty throughout the world. Some of these goals include decreasing child mortality rates, fighting AIDS and other deadly diseases, end hunger and extreme poverty, educate at a primary level and build a global partnership.
• Peace in the Middle East? Has everyone forgotten about the war between Israel and Palestine that We (and United Nations) created back in the 1940s. Read up on it and learn if you don't already know. We have trouble in Iraq and Afghanistan that's now reaching Pakistan too. And we still haven't found Osama!
• Health Care across America sucks! Oh and I heard there's gonna be a huge epidemic in the Fall! BEWARE the Super Bugs have arrived and they're bloodthirsty.
• GLOBAL WARMING- I'm a science geek fanatic to the 7th power squared. And global warming is my thing. We are facing a huge problem in the world today and I know you've all heard about it. If not, educate yourself- watch The Inconvenient Truth! The ice shelves are indeed melting at an EXPONENTIAL RATE. Everyone took Algebra right? We know what EXPONENTIAL means? Let me paint you a picture- ICE CHUNKS the size of let's say RHODE ISLAND are melting away! Less land mass for our beloved polar bears- now officially an ENDANGERED animal. Does it not bother anyone that our children won't be able to see these magnificent animals 20 years from now? Go visit the fucking zoo and look at them- I didn't think much of em either but Hey! They're sick! Beasts! Oh, and if we keep using and consuming the way we do now- all the gasoline in this world will run dry in 50 years? That's right around the corner. Oh seafood fans, my 12 year old cousin has informed me that if we don't change our fishing habits here on Manhattan Beach Pier and all around the world- hmm we're gonna run outta tiger prawns & scrimps!

So with all those FEW KEY factors in mind (there are many more) there's more problems to fix besides just our state funding. And whose going to have to fix those problems? You guessed it! The young leaders of tomorrow- which is us, starving college students today. We are supposed to deal with all the issues mentioned above and more because they'll keep piling on as the years go by. And with so many kids dropping out of schools and less and less education being recieved- how are we supposed to have the tools we need to fix the situations we are in. California was once the state with the BEST education system around- number one in the country. It's the reason many of our parents chose to reside here. It's the sunshine state and it was once GOLDEN with opportunity. Now we have fallen from the top and are ranking close to the bottom in terms of education. We are STARVING to be taught, we crave KNOWLEDGE, and we want the skills we need to fix our world for the better! But how? When we aren't offered the tools to succeed? It's like we've been blindsighted at the start of a race and trying to find which way is forward in the dark.

It's unfair for all that our parents have worked hard for over the last 10, 20, 30 years. Most of our parents were immigrants to this country and I could ask any of them and the answer would be the same- America was the land of opportunity and they made it their home for the livelihood of their children. My parents made their home here so that I could have a better chance at an education than what they were ever given. They saved up money, started up funds when I was a child, and WORKED their ASSES off to see us go through with a brighter future. But what they're seeing is nothing more than a student who is angry about the lack of education, a city that plunges into the darkness, a state that has yet to see the light at the end of the tunnel, a country that fails to stand up tall and measure how great it once was, and a world that has crumbled upon itself. Meanwhile everyone waits for the savior to come and pick up the pieces. The savior isn't coming because this is reality, textbook science that has been predicted. A case of cassandra (google it, it's fascinating). It is us who have to pick up the pieces- we all just haven't realized it yet.

-the end.

STUDENTS:

Governor's phone number (916) 445-2841. Lodge your complaints. If we get hundreds to thousands of students complaining about the lack of classes, space, or education within the first weeks- we may get a response.

Governor's email- http://gov.ca.gov/interact#email Write him a letter and complain about the injustice.

Any other ideas or feedback you may have, can be posted as a comment below without signing up for anything ( i think) If that doesn't work, facebook me or email me at sia_patel@yahoo.com