Tag: University of California Los Angeles

Journal, Myself, Preeti

Life Failed: Love/Family Did Not

Sanjay Sabarwal
By Jemal Yarbrough

I am not Sanjay Sabarwal, co-owner of Ziba Beauty.  I am not a lawyer.  I am not a promoter.  I am not a double major from UCLA.  I am not a columnist.  I am not a former volunteer at the Lexington Juvenile detention center in Kentucky.  I am not a past political intern.  NCTE) I am not a stroke victim.  I am not familiar with cancer.

I am not,  I am not, I am not any of these facts.  All my life, even at this moment, I have believed I was destined to be something greater; more significant, a personality. Focusing only on my desires and wants, I forgot how to be.  Spending energy (and credit cards) to showcase a life imagined by many but afforded by few, I drowned my soul painfully.  Surrounded by many gadgets and the must of my dog (her dog), I became empty, a negative, a compilations of could be’s, would be’s, should-be’s, would’ve’s.

So who am I?  Perhaps that’s not as an interesting a question as what I am.  I am part of a love that I did not think possible, that I had heard of and seen in fiction.  After 4 years, her face is still the first image projected onto my thoughts.  Her eyes an amazing greenish-yellow, rivaling those of cats (domestic and otherwise), her temper and stubbornness exasperating but befitting the queen she has the potential to be.

Then there is my family, my energy trough where I go to replenish myself.  I draw my strength from them like a greedy gambler who can’t get enough. I steal their inspiration and good wishes so I can face the cannot’s and will not’s in my life.  I use their love and faith in me to see myself.  It is then I become Sanjay Sabarwal.

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Myself

dream

Sanjay Sabarwal
The UCLA Store
Image by maveric2003 via Flickr

Purposely woke up later even though my body claimed it was far past 8am, yet when I opened my eyes, it was 8:06. Had a bit of rev old from body. Feeling exhausted after writing, feems passion took over the hek]lms for a few days but exhausted me from doing anything else. Not good so I listened to the voices and slept another hour, a restless 60 minutes but still longer than normal. Feeling slightly guilty and devoid of any words. Time passes. Got more sleep but have less words.

Started going through my twitter account, and saw a name from UCLA and suddenly I remembered I had a dream about this person last nigh. He was a heavier than I remembered, outlandish glasses (think from the old movie NERDS) and he was soaking to a classroom while I sat in the corner near the door facing the class. He asked a question, and I raised my hand and everything laughed while an unlit cigarette tried to cover my reddening face.

Hear a bird outsude and watch my dog perk up its ears as hearing a conversation but quiet surrounds us, and no words are formed here or in my life. Oh yea, I forgot to mention, today is my first day back at my house after staying with my parents for 2 weeks and it strikes me that I am much more comfortable there, and more like myself that is why the words come. But I am 38 years old now and really do need to grow up.

Hear an airplane and think to myself, I really do need to clean up around here, and as promised to my girlfriend I would put the hookah away (no more smoking!) and I am well aware that I am digressing, letting the problems of the world take over rather than focusing on the page ahead of me,

Finally, got up and picked up some of the trash as it was bothering me and I realized that the house needs to be in some semblance of lam before I can write. Today, unfortunately was a bust so lets see what tomorrow brings…

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