Category: Preeti

Journal, Myself, Preeti

Quiet Cancer:

Sanjay Sabarwal
Hear and Now
Image via Wikipedia

It is quiet in here.  Wait, that;s not exactly true, let me rephrase.  It’s quiet enough that I hear the satisfying click of words being typed on this page.  So  different type of quiet.  If I strain enough, I can hear the dog gently snoring in the next room, moving occasionally to get more comfortable.  There’s not enough light in my room or life now to brighten my writing area so I have resorted to turning on all the lights in the house yet 500 watts still seems dim.  I may never brighten.

Sat and struggled with the final piece for my writing class, and realized the fight was not based on what to write, or how to write but if I should.  Bulb went off in my head, and the words materialized below

The room was quiet except for the noise of cancer in our lives. I opened my eyes, and felt strange and unfamiliar until I realized I was staring at the ceiling. I had been sleeping for over 5 hours. My mind had lied to me.  My heart pounded for something selfish and non-existent.  I had dreamt not of my love but of myself. The smug clock said 7:16 am.  Nothing chirped but it felt like it.  The bathroom dripped some watery noises as if digesting a bad meal.  Darkness was losing its daily battle to the sun, yet still had strong footholds in the distance. I looked upon her not five feet away, surrounded by confident machines on a bed not meant for resting.

 

Cancer is the body lying to itself.  It is perhaps one of the few illnesses where the body will destroy itself by creating so much of itself that the body cannot contain it. Physically, the cancer had grown in her body, but it had infected our lives.  I was no longer disoriented, but disillusionment filled our room. I hoped the room would spin again, and perhaps I could enter the darkness and pretend that it was I lying on the bed and not her but dreaming did not make reality.

 

I gazed at her, willing her to breathe.  Breathe away the anger, the past, the arguments, and the many wasted moments regretting what was not to be.  Breathe in the love surrounding her.  Breathe in thoughts that would remove the enemy in her.  I wanted to take control of her body so it could get angry at the unwanted stranger and calmly ask the perversion to leave. I lasered my thoughts on to her, but the quietness of the cancer had already enveloped our lives.   Breath.

 

 

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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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Mechanical

Sanjay Sabarwal
By SinnerX

There is no time.  Just me and her. The only quietness on her face while the room buzzes with small beeps indicating normalcy or a call for help.  It has been far too long since I stared at her for so long.  Her breathing gentle, accompanied with small grimaces of pain when she moves too suddenly. 

I only see her face, holding onto my coffee with dear life, focusing my gaze on her body and willing for the stranger inside her to be gone.  I imagine being lazer like and just destroy all that is foreign.  I gaze and focus on her willing my love to pour into her and eradicate all that bothers her.  I imagine feeling her with so much joy there is room for nothing else. 

I lean in closer to her,  filling my vision with just her face, imagining beautiful eyes full of life, laughter and the knowledge that everything is going to be alright.  I stare hard, hoping/wishing/praying that somehow the cancer can teleport into me (Star Trek like).  I stare, willing the enemy within to just go away, get away from my love.  Shoo!  You don’t belong here.  I stare and I stare.

There is no time. 

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Cancer of Words: A Blog Post

Sanjay Sabarwal
Cyclops projecting an optic blast. Art by Jack...
Image via Wikipedia

The words just sit there.  The guilt sits behind them.  Yet nothing moves.  I plead with the clock to slow down, to let me gather whatever’s lying around so I do not feel like a fraud.  Yet nothing comes.  It is as if I am spent from fighting the cancer in my beloved, and while the movie reel in my head sputters along, the projection screen is blank.

I can’t stop thinking of writing, and seeing every conversation as potential dialogue.  It’s as if my body is become one huge receptacle for ideas and possible stories.  Yet I want it to stop.  I feel like Scott Summers from the Xmen, unless I put some glasses on, I can’t stop the lasers from destroying the world near m me.

Just stop, I beg regretting ever having starting this muse yet it grows just like the enemy in my love.  Her body betrayed her and now I feel like my mind is doing the same.  The words keep growing and I pray they don’t spread to my hands because I need the energy and the strength to by her side. 

I want nothing except for her.  She is my life. Without her, I am just another person, but together we become one unit that can take on the world.  But we have been let down by our bodies, hers turning against her and making her wonder what she did to deserve this and mine seeing everything as a reason to write. 

But both of us are wrong.  All we is the present and blame worry sadness don’t belong because the reality is we will both survive, one as a writer and one as former cancer patient.  That is our new reality.  It doesn’t take anything away from us, it just has made us a thousand times stronger. 

While we will kill one cancer, we will allow another one to spread so it can kill the doubts worries and sadness in others.  In hindsight, maybe being an X Man, isn’t such a bad thing.

Journal, Myself, Preeti

Breathing

Sanjay Sabarwal
Fire Breathing
Image via Wikipedia

Lying to you was better than seeing you lie there.  Protecting you from the realities of your current world was more important than breathing. Watching your beautiful face still and breathing in pure oxygen made me wish for complete bliss for you. 

Not 5 feet away from you yet feeling a stranger, I look upon you wishing it was me lying there and you watching me.  Asking again and again why you to no one in particular gets old and while the shabads surround the room, the soothing melody allows me no time alone with my thoughts.  I sit here in darkness thinking of lies to tell you so the flicker of hope brightens in your green eyes,  I don’t have the words to tell you that everything will be fine because it’s not.  However, the reality is that although our past lives are obliterated, we have a new beginning. 

Breathe my babu.  Breathe away the anger, the past, the arguments, the many wasted moments regretting what was not to be.  Breathe in the love surrounding you, Breathe in thoughts that will remove the enemy in your body, the unwanted stranger.  Take control of your body.  Get angry.  Get calm.  Focus the laser of your thoughts ‘ on to that pervert, and give me back rightfully whats fine.  Breathe.

The darkness swirls around me, and the thoughts try to enter, but I wont allow it.  I am willing you to breathe away all the negative energy, and lets start our lives anew.  Breathing together positivity and love.  Neither of us know what the future holds except we are together.  Breathe out the intruder like a fireball, and come back to our new life.

I love you.  Breathe…

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Nothing Else Matters

Sanjay Sabarwal
A couple walking on a Pacific Ocean beach, mis...
Image by Wonderlane via Flickr

I have managed to avoid thinking about it for the past few weeks, but now with it around the corner, I realize that our lives about to change dramatically.  Not badly, just differently.  One thing’s for sure, love and kindness have to fill our moments before we sink into the depth of anger and self-pity.  That’s not easy to admit or say to someone who is so close to my heart that it feels that I am being operated on instead of her.  And I wish  could spare her the emotional pain of feeling incomplete. 

I want her to know that having her in my life and spending the rest of our lives growing old together while bickering and fighting about the silliest things is what matters.  That is the life I want with her.  I want the small moments of silence that we have when we are driving long distance, the quick kisses when we are away from each other even a few moments, the shared laughter among dear friends, and the constant questions about each others state of mind.  That’s what matter.  That’s the day by day I want and need.  Nothing else matters. 

And yet I know we are entering a dark period, and the next few weeks will be a test.  The real question is will we able to handle it, or will we both sink into a self-pitying quicksand that neither one of us get can get out of. 

Only the new weeks can answer that.  For now, all I can do is pray that she sees us as I do: together, forever

Nothing Else Matters.