Tag: Writing

Brownness

3

Sanjay Sabarwal

And just like that Zyan turned 3. A blissful blur of 1095 days of us getting the joy that is Zyan. It boggles my mind that we have blessed with so much of him. That’s not to minimize the hard days or the days where you hear your parents tone when speaking with him, but the privilege to even do that is one that runs through our veins. Us. As Parents. The gratitude overflows to cover the days when there is frustration or helplessness because we are also lucky to be surrounded by so many who offer us support, give us a path forward, and there is each of us where we partner to allow an expansion of time for rest for the other, to be sure that not one is stuck doing all the things or doing the same things.

So we alternate, we pass him like a baton because in the end, the destination will matter now how we got there. And 3 years done, poof just like that. It’s hard to imagine days without him when his voice didn’t fill the home or bring such utter joy to those who love him and the lighting up of the eyes. It are those moments that provide the fuel for us to keep going to keep loving to keep growing with him. To celebrate his milestones along with ours. His birthday a reminder of our trip around the sun, 3 blazing stars orbiting together, while the 2 bigger ones ensure he doesn’t veer off into the unknown.

As we begin the 4th revolution, it’s important to parse the lessons, to get better, be around, to teach, to learn, to ensure the time spent is worthwhile and not lost in regret. These reminders more for myself than anyone else. I cannot wait to see what the new year will bring for him, and for us.

Happy Birthday Zyan!

Brownness

Cousins

Sanjay Sabarwal

This past weekend my wife’s cousin came down to visit us for Halloween, and spend time with family. Friday was a nice night of trick or treating for Zyan with his cousins and loved ones, and then the night ended with hanging at brother in law’s for his birthday which gave me a moment to take stock to see my wife hanging out with her friends and cousins and seeing Zyan do the same, and it hit me that much of younger social memories were of my own cousins, learning from them, loving them, and taking it for granted they would be social circle.

Perhaps to an outsider it may be strange, but my wife ‘s and my own family allowed us to have a foundation of trust with those who are almost like siblings but with breaks. We experienced vacations, fights, make ups, playtime, and talking with people who accepted us just as we were, and I think that allowed me to grow a bit safer than usual. What I mean is that all of us had someone we connected with, someone we could share things with that we perhaps couldn’t with others, and I think that meant a deeper trusted relationship that went beyond just blood.

Being nosy, I stared at Zyan and his cousins run around like screaming banshees, and in those moments, it warms me to know that besides us he has a deeper pool of family that he can swim to for comfort, for understanding, to be plain silly with. Besides the cousins, he also has their parents who dote on him like he is their own, and that just warms me in a familiar way because I grew in the same manner as if there were multiple set of parents to take care of us.

The weekend already a blur of activity and exhaustion, add daylights, and my son’s continually asking where Ezra is means that yet another brick was laid for his future safety of love, of connection, of being around others who get him right away. And it makes the tiredness totally worth it because we can take comfort in the fact that he will always be surrounded by those who love him unconditionally!

Brownness

Joshua Tree

Sanjay Sabarwal

This last weekend, Zyan, myself and the wife made our first trip to Joshua Tree with a lot of our family members. The plan was to stargaze but while Zyan only lasted about 15 minutes for that event, but in return, we got a magical two days where he got to spend time not only with his grandmother, aunts, and uncles but also with his cousins, and for us that’s what truly mattered. While the family planned the trip a while ago, we jumped on last minute as a surprise, and that was the seasoning that made these past few days so delicious for us all.

Were there challenges? Of course, but in the end it was all worth it. To see the massive smiles when he walked in made the 3 hour drive feel like nothing. Credit has to go to my wife who convinced us to go last minute and to not tell anyone. While uncertain as to how Zyan would handle things, I am glad we threw everything together quickly and headed out. I know for sure that this will be a memory all of will cherish and talk about and remind Zyan when he is oder how fun and difficult he made things during that time.

But more than anything his peals of laughter, the full joy of being in a jacuzzi with us and his cousins, the constant playing games with my brother in law, the endless kisses he got from my sister, the smile on my moms face seared onto my heard a memory to replay in later days. I also now have the urge to take him back when he is older to behold the splendor that is our universe. I saw for the first time through a high powered telescope, the craters on the mood and the rings of Saturn, and the curiosity and excitement it elicited in me is one I wish to replicate in his mind and heart. I was 53 years old when I did this, and for him I hope it’s at 5.

For once, Monday felt like a coming home a very long but wonderous journey, one filled with so much activity and emotion, and I cannot wait for our next destination when we do this all over again.

Brownness

87

Sanjay Sabarwal

The numbers become more and more important. This past weekend, we lost the Patriarch of my moms family. My mother’s eldest brother went on to join the Great Divine after being here for a bit more than 87 years. What I do know is that he went without fear as his devotion to the One was great, and I hope one I too can emulate his strength, knowledge and love. He was the oldest of 11 siblings of which only 4 remain, one being my mother, and I would be lying if the question didn’t come to me for her: how long does she grace my life? Each of these siblings created a dynamic universe that we assumed was normal, but it wasn’t. They did well, had booms, busts, and then slowly each of them came to the One who allowed them peace.

My uncle was amazing in that he made anyone that came into contact with him feel special. He had a way of connecting of the past to the present which felt as if no time had passed when I was around him as a baby. He had a special name for everyone, and for me it Sanjay Shah, a title truly for which I am undeserving unless its ruling over doubt and unworthiness, but in his presence, it all felt doable like it fit

I am glad I got to see him a few months ago in New York, and for once, there is no regret because I experienced him in his calm element. His grace and joy at seeing all of us together, the ultimate gift. This is a man who gave so much of himself in service to others, but yet never asked for anything in return. This is the legacy we get to live, and I am truly grateful I got a chance to spend some time in his light. He will be missed, but I also know he will hanging out with his best friend as well, my father. Makes sense he left the same month as him.

Brownness

Beyond Comfort

Sanjay Sabarwal

Yesterday, i got my client peace of mind with a one year retraining order against the other side as well as attorneys fees. Seeing the wide grin on their face made it worth m not having my peace of mind over the weekend. You see, I have now realized that I like the challenge of litigation because it pushes me far beyond my comfort level. It forces me to sit down, get organized, to put words down on paper rather than keep convincing myself that I got this. It is hard work for me to simply sit down in the quiet, get all thoughts done, REALLY think about the issues at hand, and then come up wtih a chronology.

Now mind you, I saw some gaps, and I worried about the other side and what they would come up with. I blamed myself for not being as prepared when I called the other side the first time. So it made for a special day when I handed him the exhibit binder, and he reviewed it with his client, and then made an offer to settle rather than have an entire hearing in front of the judge. Thats when it hit me that when I am uncomfortable, but do the work, things work out in my favor.

This is a lesson that has been continually shoved in my face, and now I know that in order for me to get good at this, I have to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. Its the zone of action. Not just sitting there stressing or telling myself that I got this. But really getting down to connecting with my client needs, what happened, and what needs to happen. It made for an even better today to come home and then support my wife in potty training Zyan who managed to use the toilet 3 times.

When we do the difficult things, the rewards are infinitely better than when things are just handed to you. Its a lesson I now look foward to learning continuously. Live in discomfort, love the reward. Life is just beyond that comfort zone.

Happy Tuesday!

Brownness

Bella Sabarwal

Sanjay Sabarwal

Bella came into our lives 18 years ago in Big Bear, the very day I proposed to Jaz. She was meant as a gift for my wife, a small, white maltipoo, weighing just eight pounds. At the time, I wasn’t much of a dog lover, but Jaz’s dream was my mission, and without fully realizing it, that tiny puppy quietly nestled into my heart, changing me forever.

I didn’t realize how deeply I had fallen for Bella until I found myself proudly walking her, playfully calling her silly names, scooping up after her without a second thought. I became jealous, even, witnessing the pure devotion she and Jaz shared. Bella was never merely a pet—she was our child, our companion, our comforter.

Bella taught me profound lessons in simple, everyday gestures. She taught me patience and unconditional love, the joy of quiet companionship, and how loyalty is often spoken in silence. She showed me the depth of comfort that comes from a small, loving presence, especially when Jaz faced her hardest days battling cancer. Bella wrapped herself around Jaz, her gentle warmth providing a solace no medicine could replicate.

We lost Bella a week ago. Holding her in our arms as she took her last breath left an emptiness within me so deep, I struggle to say her name or even share news of her passing. Our home is hauntingly silent—no clicking nails across the hardwood floors, no soft snoring, no playful chases around the room. Each room carries a painful echo of her absence.

What hurts most is the constant reminder that a precious piece of our family is gone forever. Bella was never “just a dog”; she was a cornerstone of our lives, forever embedded in thousands of memories and photographs, including our cherished engagement portrait that I see every day.

When I think of Bella, the ache settles heavily in my chest, a raw, lingering pain. It’s difficult to explain to others the depth of our grief—that she was our adopted child, the gentle spirit we never expected would leave so soon. There is no replacement for her presence, no easing of the loss that has profoundly reshaped our daily lives.

We plan to honor Bella by keeping her photos around the house and creating a special album dedicated solely to her memory. We’ve placed her ashes in an urn, awaiting the day when we’ll find the perfect place to memorialize her, alongside the roses Jaz loves so dearly.

I dream Bella is still joyfully running circles around Papa and my aunt somewhere beautiful and peaceful. Someday, when Zyan is old enough, I’ll tell him how Bella taught me to love more deeply, more patiently, and how her gentle presence enriched our lives immeasurably.

If I could introduce Bella to someone new, I would simply say: “This tiny, eight-pound miracle changed our hearts forever. She taught us the true meaning of unconditional love and showed us that life’s greatest moments often lie in the simplest, quietest exchanges.”

She is irreplaceable, unforgettable, deeply loved, and profoundly missed.