Tag Archives: PAST

NUMBLY FEELING EVERY SENSE or NEW EDITION WITH JOHNNY GILL

I

Can still

Smell, Feel, Hear, Taste, See this rain.

Smell. Because you always smell rain first. Petrichor.

Feel it lightly thwacking at my forehead, forearms, balcony railings, pavement.

Hear it set a steady percussive backbeat to our descending flights of stairs

Taste it.

If you smell, you soon thereafter, taste. And everything in India ends up rolling Uber your tastebuds and landing in your lungs.

See it. Through balcony windows at every turn only to stop and cease FULLY as you emerged…as we emerged with you.

I

Can still

Sense

This rain.

And no, Johnny, not for a second, could I stand it. I took it. I had to. But I couldn’t stand it.

#iqmgrateful and #iamthankful that I can close my eyes, or catch a waft of chemistry before rain happens, and let myself be carried all the way back to carrying you. The only time I ever carried you.

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FOR BEING DELIBERATE or THANK YOU MOM & DAD

2018 … was not easy. Personally. Professionally. It was a year that shook me to my core.

Upon heavy reflection, specifically the past 6 weeks, I realize it’s no coincidence that it ran in parallel with my stepping back from public, daily, gratitude. So today, on the first day of the year, I want to acknowledge the role I played in defining 2018 (on all of the wrong feet), and I want to set the footing…straight. I’ll start with celebrating two people for whom I have no words.

Mom and Dad.

Not those of blood and birthright. But those of luck and choice. Priya KC Bhatt‘s parents. More powerfully, my parents for the past decade plus.

Today…they were there for me, my sis, and my mom … and to them, they’ll think nothing of it.

How do you explain tonight? New Year’s Eve? For my entire childhood I remember my parents making a go at whatever America threw at us, for us. Halloween. Valentine’s Day. Birthdays. Christmas. Thanksgiving. July 4th. You name it. They absorbed, adopted, acclimated, and served my sister Anu Kiran and I a platter, a feast, of moments. But New Year’s Eve? That was theirs.

They partied and threw down in a way that would make the most velvet of ropes feel inferior.

Until February 4th, 2018. When Dad skipped the line and entered the next venue a bit before Mom (she’s destined to enter that party at some point, some days she’s more eager than others, but we know he’s already paid her way and is merely inside, holding a hightop table, with her drink ready … Gin & Tonic … hell, he probably told the barkeep how to make it). New Year’s Eve was them. Until it wasn’t. Today. It wasn’t. How do you fill that void? You bring two amazing kids along for the ride. And wow. Anaiya and Jaanu …they fill voids. They fill canyons. They’d turn the Grand Canyon into a Nebraskan highway.

But how else do you fill that void? You marry into the Chadha family. And you watch Satinder Chadha and Daljit Chadha step into the most complicated of spaces and bring smiles, fun, love, happiness……they act like they had no other place they’d ever been and no other place they’d want to be.

And actually, there’s no acting. There’s just them.

We’re blessed. I’ve got nothing else to say. We’re blessed. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for Mom and Dad C and have been from day

1. But even moreso, on days like today, I’m beyond thankful and grateful.#iamspeechless

Daddy went back to the bartender tonight. He asked for some extra ice cubes. “She’s going to be a while” he said.

“She’s in good hands.”

Happy New Year.

Not an easy New Year. But a Happy one.

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9/11 vs TUESDAY 9/11 or THE NEW NORMAL

I desperately wanted to make it through today. September 11th.

It’s an eerily odd year because the days (the 9th, the 10th, the 11th) all fell on similar days as they did in 2001. When life synchronizes emotion with progression with time with numbers, things become more real. When September 11th falls on a Thursday or a Saturday it means a lot to me but it does, very honestly, mean a little less than it does when it falls on a Tuesday.

When it falls on a Tuesday my September 11th starts on Sunday. When we grabbed breakfast while watching football. And when we roamed NYC. Or when we caught a friend’s one-man show before hugging on the corner Christopher and West 4th for a “see ya later” … that turned into a “goodbye forever”. I was young then. I’m old as sin now. Forever is way more probable than later. With life happening as fast as it does. Forever is way more possible than later. These days. This year.

F*ck you 2018.All I wanted to do was pour a Guinness down my throat and say goodbye to this Tuesday in September that’s graded on a curve, that’s weighted on a curve.

That’s all I wanted to do. Until I heard your news, buddy. Luke Haseloff you’ll be sorely missed. I called you every time I swapped jobs. We were going to make Jersey City happen (hell, from that email exchange last night it was going to happen in September or October! But it was going to happen.) WHOA was it going to happen. A month away from this birthday. Networking events in full swing….and I guess that’s the problem. It was probably going to happen. It was possibly going to happen. But now it won’t happen, forever. And there’s the rub. Forever is now more likely than possible or probable.

And I hate my new normal. I’m not doing enough to fly in the face of it. 2018 has presented a new challenge what feels like every other week. But as I explained to a friend this weekend who suffered through the tragic death of a loved one — so young, at the peak of life — as I worked through with a friend … I realized, this is our new normal.25 years ago it was sweet sixteens.22 years ago it was turning 21.20 years ago it was graduation.10 years ago it was weddings.5 years ago it was birthdays.

Today. And forever. It’s not possible. It’s not probable. It’s forever.

Today. It’s about remembering. That’s scary as hell. Until you realize it’s not probable. It’s not possible. It’s truth. And when it happens. Your forever is based on what you were. Not what you thought you were. Or wished you were.

Just what you were. My answer: not good enough. Not good ENOugh. TO EVERYONE we’ve lost. To everyone we’re with.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH. As I whack my head against my monitor and my computer screen and my past 10, 15, 20 years.Am I doing enough? For the people I love. Even like?

It’s a simple answer. No. NOT enough. It’s a start. Learn from loss. Learn. From. Loss.

Or it’s just loss. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for … whatever time life affords me. I don’t have anything else to say. Good. Night. Goodnight.

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