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Posts from the ‘Preeti’ Category

Sep 14

Fences: A Blog Post

by Jemal Yarbrough

Sometimes words can do more damage to your soul and personality that it can take months to repair the person you thought you were.  Recently, I inflicted serious emotional injuries on someone very close to me, not realizing that instead of being there as a person, I became an aloof prick .  The change was not sudden, but sad to say it took me a few days to see how far I had drifted on the person I used to be.  What is the point of growing up or having all the material wealth in the word when I managed to push people who fill my heart and soul with love?

In just a few minutes, I created a fence for that special someone who is now barbed with hurt, distrust but most of all disbelief that I could be this way.  The excuses are many, but the reality is I forgot for a bit how incredibly lucky I am to have the people I do in my life.  Sure, there are some new additions but I have been truly given gifts that I have not treated invaluable

In the end, words are easy to say and fling around but the journey back to love will take time, and I will need to once again prove why I am the best choice.  It has not helped at all that what I did was in front of people who think very less of me now, and it definitely has taken away a lot of the privacy I desired (ironic, I know since I am blogging about it but here at least it’s in generalities).  Now, I have to face some when all I want to do is wish I was invisible and never be seen again.  But I deserve it so it shall be.  The fence was created by me, and instead of keeping someone close to me, I managed to create a divide…

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Aug 9

1 Comment

Roaming Thoughts: A Blog Post

Parts of the city of Geneva and Lake Geneva wi...

Image via Wikipedia

The buzz of the birds shines outside our window in Geneva, Switzerland, jet lag still a dear friend so as she breathes heavily due to an impromptu day nap, I sit myself in front of you to spill the churning thoughts inside me.   Poetic I am not, overly bored definitely.  I am smiling involuntarily as images of dancing with my friends and family is still looking to be filed away to become a distant memory yet the amazing wedding and love shown are making me reluctant to tuck away wedding month of celebration.  I dare not admit that 5 years ago, this seemed impossible, with many writing off (including myself) a big wedding, instead hoping someone from her side would show up.   Yet, I seem hard pressed to remember that time, instead I am surrounded by smiling happy faces from both sides, her loving brothers, her amazing parents and finally my always there family, culminating in 7 perfect events, 1000s of pictures, 100s of hours of movie footage but more than a lifetime of commitment to each other and our families, yet somewhere lost between are the small little moments we had, rough to sweet and I wonder what it is that makes a marriage (yeah, can you tell I am married now)?  When does a couple stop being lovers and friends and move on to becoming a loving partnership?  I ask because only in a true partnership can we accept each other strengths and weaknesses, soldering them together to become even stronger, even more agile and finally even more loving.  When we are lovers and friends, we each have distinct needs and wants that need to be taken care of, but in a marriage everything becomes conjoined, shared, split, experienced together otherwise your just two really good roommates who happen to get it on once in a while, aren’t we?

So here I sit, while her snoring gets louder, and I still at the various images hitting my head, from the little things friends did for me (sing when they weren’t planning on it, plan a bachelor party for 13 loud and picky guys, fly down even thought we hadn’t seen each other in years), just a multitude of kindness that I am not sure I can ever repay to the present moment.  She lies in bed snoring away at 9pm (12 noon our times) and in room my thoughts roam and I wonder (yet again), how I ever got this lucky. :)   It is becoming hard to sign off, to stop this post because the smile is not going away but the dread of what lies in the future remains.  So she snores and I roam…

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Jul 25

Happiness and Thank You: A Blog Post

Lorsque paraît la beauté..

Image by ImAges ImprObables via Flickr

It’s easy to write when your sad, angry and full of hope, but harder for me to write when I am happy.  My high school teacher Marie Tollstrup used to say that if you look at most poetry and literature, it has traces of negative emotion with a happy ending merely to showcase the writer’s whimsy, yet today I feel obligated to note the love surrounding her and I, amongst our dear friends, family from abroad and in general.  Each day in the past week has been full of positive emotion, brimming with future possibility, and the reality that our time has finally come. This December will make it 5 years when I fell in love so deeply and truly with someone who I had known all my life that it still feels unreal that I am with someone so beautiful inside and out.  But I digress.  These past few days have made me realize how truly blessed and lucky I am to have the people I do in my life.  Looking at my past posts, I have spent an inordinate amount of time whining about the ones that truly do not matter, ignoring the ones that come around me at a drop of a hat, and I cannot help be thankful for being just good enough to have them in my life.  I do not know what I did to deserve them but dammit, I am going to make damn sure I keep them!

 

Thank you, thank you, and thank you.  I wish I was more eloquent but I cannot stop smiling, while soaking in these beautiful days and events with amazing friends and family.  THANK YOU!

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May 30

5 Comments

My Writing Sucks: A Blog Post

Janss Steps, Royce Hall in background, UCLA

Image via Wikipedia

For the first time since I started on my UCLA extension classes, I am wondering what made me think I could actually write.  This is the first time also I took only one class, and yet it feels as if my entire certificate for creative non fiction depends on it.  The class is for personal essays, how to write one and get published.  We have only written 5 essays but it feels as if I have written 50.  The worse part: my writing absolutely, without any doubt in my mind, sucks.  I mean it’s awful.  Instead of showing, I am telling. Instead of describing people, I am using stock characters.  And grammar? Forget about it, it looks like I stopped around 8th grade.

At first, it was easy to blame the class (teacher sucks, essays too general, no lectures, etc) and then I realized that the issue really was me.  My first topic was about my grandfather, the second about my mom and sisters opening up Ziba, the third about my difficult writing, and the fourth and fifth about cancer.  Each topic emotionally loaded for me, but more importantly not really dealt with at the time so as I began writing, I lose myself into that time period so the writing resembles that of a child.

Writing about Ziba and my dad;s drinking is just plain hard mainly because I have such mixed emotions about it.  When Ziba started, I was at UCLA and then Law school and I was 13 when my dad drank and it has had a powerful effect on me.  The main reason its hard because Ziba is in my lifeblood and I love my dad so much now, more so because he is one of the few people I know in my life who did a 180 turn in life to save his family.  I have so much respect, pride and love for him that it’s hard to look at a time when I felt nothing for him.  As for Ziba, it;s just hard to write about it because I have the guilt that I could have done so much more and that perhaps I didn’t have much to do with it for it to be successful.  In a way, maybe I am riding it coattails, but then I see my family and they just don’t see it like that and won’t let me either.

Finally, my love and cancer. This part’s the hardest just because it was so recent but more importantly it involved someone I love so completely that it’s hard to imagine being without her.  So here I am, in a personal essay class where all the essays are so personal that they don’t mean much to others because I havent dealt with my own issues, and thus the writings are full of meandering thoughts and emotions that frankly aren’t very fun to read if I was totally honest with myself.  Let’s hope I figure it out soon before I truly feel like a failure.  I am open to suggestions :)

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Feb 16

2 Comments

Almost There

 

by Jemal Yarbrough

 

The mural next to these words marks a strong contrast to the real world facing me outside: grey, dreary, drizzling enough so even the dog doesn’t want to go around and sniff aimlessly. Just paid all the bills and miraculously have exactly 11 cents to my name, well to our names to be precise, so I have plenty to frown about, but I am not.  In fact, seems nothing can get me down.

The heart is light, can’t stop smiling, and looking forward to the week ahead. It’s funny how certain things don’t matter as much when so much has happened.  Friends who you cared about deeply barely a bleep, strangers who you ignored now dear acquaintances, but you know over all, that you matter a lot to many out there, and that’s enough.   Each one in our lives contributed the way they could, or better yet the way they were meant to.  This was our battle, and they were just the small break shops that give you water and food so you have the strength to keep going.  Blaming those for not running with you was not only realistic but completely unfair.  True, the damage is done but I know my friends, they will bounce back since those who know me well know that I hold no ill will.  More like, it was a cry for help but I managed to push some away and for that I will always be sorry.  The choice to continue is really up to them because although I am sorry, I am not going to be a slave to regret for the rest of my life.

I finished my first short story in years, and while I am tempted to share it here, I know it still needs to be tightened up more.  Who knew in the whirling days of chemo and radiation, an idea would be born. On this dreary day, my heart shines, smiling at the thought of her being almost done.  Nothing else matters really.  All the old accusations, decisions, bad thoughts, put away to stand clear for the finish line.  Who knew that in a matter of weeks, we will put this saga behind us and while the results are not 100%, they are good enough for me. Can/t worry about what’s not there or has not happened.  Actually, that’s not true. It is 1005 over in a week, and what will come next, I cannot worry about.  For now, I have her to love fully, full-time, and always. Also  my dear friends and family who are always there.  We are almost there, thank you for coming along this bumpy ride.  Hope I didn’t scar you too much. :)

 

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Feb 16

1 Comment

Almost There

by Jemal Yarbrough

The mural next to these words marks a strong contrast to the real world facing me outside: grey, dreary, drizzling enough so even the dog doesn’t want to go around and sniff aimlessly. Just paid all the bills and miraculously have exactly 11 cents to my name, well to our names to be precise, so I have plenty to frown about, but I am not.  In fact, seems nothing can get me down.

The heart is light, can’t stop smiling, and looking forward to the week ahead. It’s funny how certain things don’t matter as much when so much has happened.  Friends who you cared about deeply barely a bleep, strangers who you ignored now dear acquaintances, but you know over all, that you matter a lot to many out there, and that’s enough.   Each one in our lives contributed the way they could, or better yet the way they were meant to.  This was our battle, and they were just the small break shops that give you water and food so you have the strength to keep going.  Blaming those for not running with you was not only realistic but completely unfair.  True, the damage is done but I know my friends, they will bounce back since those who know me well know that I hold no ill will.  More like, it was a cry for help but I managed to push some away and for that I will always be sorry.  The choice to continue is really up to them because although I am sorry, I am not going to be a slave to regret for the rest of my life.

I finished my first short story in years, and while I am tempted to share it here, I know it still needs to be tightened up more.  Who knew in the whirling days of chemo and radiation, an idea would be born. On this dreary day, my heart shines, smiling at the thought of her being almost done.  Nothing else matters really.  All the old accusations, decisions, bad thoughts, put away to stand clear for the finish line.  Who knew that in a matter of weeks, we will put this saga behind us and while the results are not 100%, they are good enough for me. Can/t worry about what’s not there or has not happened.  Actually, that’s not true. It is 1005 over in a week, and what will come next, I cannot worry about.  For now, I have her to love fully, full-time, and always. Also  my dear friends and family who are always there.  We are almost there, thank you for coming along this bumpy ride.  Hope I didn’t scar you too much. :)

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