So I woke up this morning and made my cochin masala chai (for those of you who aren't drinking this, you're really missing out), and thought about how incredibly content I am with this moment in life. I opened my cabinet and found an unopened bottle of olive oil and looked at my few pots and pans with gratitude. I ate some walnuts, perused my continually evolving living room and put lotion on my face. I looked at the brilliant sunshine outside and was excited to manifest the many possibilities that exist out there in my life with the ethers above. Through all the wars, battles, inner highs and lows, the only regret I have is that I didn't smile more. And now that I'm starting a new life, I know exactly what I'm going to do.

~ Love and Peace

I realize more and more how much I have no control over my life. Whatever Intention God had set at the time of my birth, that is what will happen. I can either fulfill that or fight that. I remember how much at times I fought with life and wanted something or someone other than what was happening or who was there in the moment. And now I realize it all had a purpose and a meaning and a growth. I've learned so much patience. I'm so happy with where I am now. I realize that God has my Best at His/Her Heart and I'm incredibly lucky and blessed. Just the fact that I can open my eyes every morning and take in the sights and sounds of families living, of coffee brewing and life chugging along is a blessing. The fact that I can sit here and type these words on the computer and enjoy an Americano is an incredible blessing. And I can do this all by myself. The fact that I can walk down Walnut St. and just be and take in the scene is Awesome. Sometimes I'm in awe of what I have and what is around me. It's amazing how much we have in life. We have so much.

~ Peace

I'm livin in the dark ages....how does a woman like me end up here....sigh....not enough namkeen around here either...

I want my Yin back.

boyz are phunny...

I watched the Diary of Anne Frank last night til about 3 am or so and then cried myself to sleep. I had forgotten that the story I had devoured as a teenager had ended in such horror. Maybe I had just blocked it out and was reminded of the depth of the tragedy years later. I can't understand why a young girl filled with so much light, life and reflection had to face hate. My agony is a constant reminder of the mainstream reality humankind has generated thus far.

It's hard to imagine that it was only sixty years ago that a Jew was hated for being a Jew. After watching the Secret Life of Bees, it's hard to imagine that it was only fifty years ago that a black woman was hated for being a black woman. It is so utterly hard to understand why a woman has been hated for being a woman over the past few thousand years. And it is very hard to understand why I am hated for being who I am.

I will keep writing.

This is the Diary of Anjali Soi.

~ Peace ~

I'm really a very simple girl. It's just that I require a bit of sophistication and quality. I don't need a 100 pairs of shoes; I can totally live with just 10 pairs. But those 10 pairs better be decent shoes. I gotta have long-lasting, dependable shoes.

It's been years since my fingers have graced the songs of Chopin on the piano. Growing up, I used to find solace, deep within the veins of my Heart, in the keys. Whenever I'm asked to play or if a desire comes over me to play, I sit down on the piano bench and meddle a bit with the keys but now it's hard to play. A sorrow stops me from playing. But at the same time, there's an ecstasy. The sorrow and the joy together is too much for me that I cannot play. I cannot play yet.

7/8/11

Ah yes, the gold digger. Or shall we say, the 'goal' digger. Someone please give me a bucket so that I can vomit. Dr. Phil, why DO you host such immature patheticos. Why oh why are you disturbing our peace with such disgustingness and egotism with these dumbos. Oh, how I shake my head.

The Unidentified

I am not who I was yesterday.

I am not who I was ten minutes ago.

If you see me from the lens of the past, then you are webbed in illusion, 

seduced by your mind.

You do not see Me in this Moment. You are blind.


In fact, even with eyes, you cannot find me anywhere.

My acupuncturist told me a few months that a journey through a dark night is great and all and at times necessary but you can't live there forever. You gotta come out at some point. It's great to probe and go deep and discover the reality of things but after a while you have to enjoy your life and just live. You just gotta eat your shrimp and cucumber sushi and coke and watch a silly movie without feeling hurt or despair.

which is what I'm doing now.

You are responsible for what you Know.

You are also responsible for what you don't Know.

Know.

When you hurt Me, you hurt the Heart of God.

This Life is not about me, it's about the Light.

~ In Strength ~

Back in the middle of summer this year, I had a beautiful dream. I had a dream I was pregnant. And I saw the baby.

I've had a couple dreams before where I've been pregnant and gave birth to beings that didn't look entirely human. I saw it as something purging in my life.

But this dream was entirely different. I was so supported. I went into labor in the middle of the street, had people help me, the ambulance drove me in and took me to a nice hospital room. I had two girlfriends by my side.

The interesting thing was I saw the baby before she came out. Like she didn't come out from where you know what but she popped out of my belly for a little bit and I held her. She was.......I can't explain it. She made me so happy. She was a happy, laughing, Cancer baby.

I told her to go back inside my womb and come out the other way in due time.


It's a Rebirth.

[I took the sign of the cross before I posted this. It's not a good idea to give me ten minutes to myself. Bad things happen.]

A Lost Guy’s Guide to finding the Perfect Indian Girl:

Southies (Tamilians, Telegus, etc): these girls are forever homely (in the Indian sense). Generally sweet and kind, they’ll hardly ever pick a fight with you. However, if you’re not into drinking rasam on a routine basis, you might want to reconsider. On the other hand, they are quite the tigers in bed despite their ‘lambish’ personas.

Marathis: pretty and coy. They’re quite well balanced actually so if you don’t have it together, move on.

Gujaratis: oh man, how do I say this. Ummmm…..just stick with the Shahs if you’re going in this direction (my Patel girlfriends are gonna kill me for saying this but I take my chances).

Biharis: these girls are just gems of people I tell you. Hardworking and they put up with a lot of drunk Bihari men. Very sacrificing.

Orissans: very cute and demure. But they have no problem telling you how it is. They also have no problem giving you the ‘whaaaaa?’ kinda look.

Rajasthanis: oh dear. These women are a bit feisty and generally conservative, but they are incredibly loyal to their loved ones. They also come from a beautiful culture. You might want to watch out for royalty though; you don’t want to end up on death row.

Kashmiris: ohhhh dear (do you see how the further north you get, the worse it becomes). These women are VERY loving, however they can be kinda pushy. They do make YUM food though and if you’re into delicious paneer and heartwarming kava tea, you’ll be very satisfied. As long as you call your kashmiri woman four times a day to tell her how you are, you’ll be on her good side.

And finally…

The Punjabis: (I’m being totally objective here): I’m not saying these girls are the best but they’re pretty darn close.

They do have a tendency to smack their husbands silly during a laugh attack, but you’ll survive. You’ll also have to get used to ‘chup chup’ sounds during serious conversations which translate to ‘tis so, tis kismat’ in English. You’ll also be fed silly and be awoken to wonderful kaali elaichi tea after your nap which you took after your six-alu-parantha binge for lunch. They do like it hard sorry tmi.

Hope you found your way.

Bleeding veins of a dying heart becoming the rivers to light.

So after having a rough night, I’m sitting in an Amtrak train on my way to my mini-vacation. I figured instead of suffocating with a broken soul and a sense of failurism and doom all day in the Pittsburgh heat, I would go to Philly and spend time with friends, i.e. live in their house, go to the beach, be fed good food and just chill. It’s no ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ journey but it’ll have to do for now.

May I just say some of the cab drivers in Pittsburgh are awesome. Seriously. Ok just had to make a side note.

Anyhow, I reached the Amtrak station at 6:40 am this morning and was suddenly hit with a dose of inspiration. There’s something about taking the train that feeds the soul. It reminds me of the sthabdi rides from Delhi to Chandigarh and back long ago. There’s something about sitting back, relaxing, thinking, pondering and staring at the world going by with samosas (even though I don't like them that much) that makes you feel like you are traveling not just without but within. I don’t think Americans ever caught on to the art of train traveling. It’s really quite enjoyable. The only thing that sucks is you don’t get really good samosas and mazda mango drinks here like you do in the sthabdi. Other than that, I’ve got two coach chairs, side by side, to myself.

Life is beautiful. Even with all the heartache, the hurtful devastation and some state worse than death, it’s beautiful. Somehow it’s all a rebirth, even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Riding in Cars with Boys

I watched this movie again a couple days ago. I love Drew Barrymore in it. It's such a great story. I caught the movie on tv in the middle of the story where Drew opens up about her feelings toward her son and how she feels like a bad mother. She says she wonders whether she really does love him and whether she has to love him and she feels like a horrible person for feeling that way (she was a teen mom, give the woman a break).

I love what Brittany Murphy says in response to this. It stopped me silent when she said it. She says "I think sometimes we love people so much, we have to be numb to it. Because if we actually felt how much we loved them, it would kill us." It's a line that gives me hope.

"the Angel of Death takes your lovers away." - Don Miguel Ruiz

The problem with pulling out thorns from your heart is that pulling them out hurts just as bad as when you're stabbed with them. It hurts so Deeply. How do you pull out a thousand thorns....