Second Class Citizen

Our freedom and liberty are at risk. During this election, the biggest threat to America is not coming from outside the US in the guise of foreign terrorists or an invading army; it comes from within America itself. In Minnesota two amendments are proposed to change my state’s constitution, but this threat is also on the ballot in many other states across the US this year.

Both threats are an attempt to get an electoral majority to limit the rights and freedoms of a smaller group of Americans. In our brief history as a nation, through countless struggles by courageous people our democracy has learned how to protect the rights of certain minorities. Those struggles have led me to believe that an experienced democracy learns how to protect and value minority rights; a less mature democracy threatens and controls the rights of minority groups.

I Wear a Kara

The Kara is a steel bracelet worn by warriors. I’ve worn mine non-stop for over 11 years.

I am deeply saddened by the tragedy at the Sikh Gurdwara outside of Milwaukee. I am also very angry. I’m trying to reconcile the two. My wife became an honorary Sikh in the 80s, but that is her story to tell when she is ready.

Eleven years ago my marriage was on the rocks. I’m not going to go into the details of how I almost derailed it, but I made an important decision: it was a marriage worth fighting for. In changing my attitude and strengthening myself to not give up, I started a long journey to repair the damage I had done. This was the longer difficult path, the shorter easier path would have been to dissolve the marriage. It has taken years to turn around.

After my struggles with our marriage, my wife gave me a gift: a Kara. It is a steel bracelet worn by warriors and one of the five items all Sikhs of faith must bear. In fighting for my own marriage, in the struggle and fight against myself and my own issues, she felt I deserved it. I have worn it every day since. It has replaced my wedding band as a constant reminder of my dedication, struggles and strength I put forth in my marriage. It is a stronger symbol of love than any gold band could give; it is a stronger piece of metal, harder to break.

The War on Travel

Nothing is supposed to be this difficult.

We’ve been coming to India together on four prior trips. If you count Saum’s experience, five years living here and many other long-extended stays before we met with travel nation-wide – she’s a pro. In January 2000, she organized a trip through Rajasthan complete with three-day camel safari through the Thar Desert just outside of Jaisalmer. We’ve been through mountains, over plains; in cars, trains and planes. We’ve stayed in old palaces and forts, palace hotels, hunting lodges, ashrams, even in tents. In terms of planning a vacation in India, we’ve never had this much trouble before.

Until now.

We’re here in India for six weeks together. After arriving in our base of operations, the launching point of our previous travels, we set out to make way for Kerala. In the past, we’ve used a travel agent, at other times friends, occasionally just hopping in the car. We know what we want to do, our research done, plans – well trying to set. And here’s the problem.

Haunted by Ghosts

I’m not telling a ghost story, not that I don’t have them. It’s true that there were ghosts that frequented the rooms and halls of my college dormitory, but that will have to wait for another time.

There are times I feel haunted by ghosts. Not the kind that go clink in the night, the spirits of the departed, I have a working relationship with them. The ghosts I speak of are my own. They are not external entities, but internal to myself. This is about the ghosts that we carry around with us, the memories that haunt.

When I was growing up, times were different, our nation was different. I would hear jokes, often with racial epithets in them. As the world and I changed, I would grow more and more uncomfortable with what was being said, eventually telling people I didn’t want to hear the jokes. They were offensive. This is one of my ghosts.

Death Ahead, Detour Next Right

I should be dead right now.

This isn’t a suicide note. I’m rather happy to be alive at this moment.

In 2001, I was scheduled to provide an upgrade to a customer of mine in the World Trade Center during the week of September 11^th. Some piece of high tech security software that allows banks to wire funds internationally. The upgrade got cancelled the week before it was to take place. My wife was planning on going to New York with me. Since our plans had changed, we decided to take a mini-vacation. I was already planning on being out of town that week.

I’m not saying this puts me in a similar place of those who escaped, who descended and gotten out. I have no way of knowing how those people felt or feel today. I do however feel a kinship to those who for some odd reason or another had some circumstance that kept them away from work that day.