Nithya's eloquence moves mountains

My lovely niece Nithya writes about her faith wavering, and solidifying, amidst the trials in her life.

I have been encouraged several times to write a testimonial about all that happened around the birth of our second child Alan, his health crisis, surgeries and recovery. However, as Alan continued to struggle despite the best medical intervention, I put off writing a testimonial hoping that when he was a 100% healthy I could write a beautiful testimony with a happy ending; something I felt was essential for an inspiring story. However, that day has still not arrived. So you must be wondering why you are reading a testimonial from me. To answer that, I will have to start from the beginning. I was born in Bangalore in the early 80s when Bangalore lived up to its name of "Garden City". I was the middle of 3 girls and my parents brought us up believing in Jesus. We attended Sunday school and had an unwavering faith in the Bible. We moved to Delhi when I was five. Despite all the challenges my parents faced while we were growing up I was a happy child and wanted for nothing. My faith was very simple - God loved us all and if we obeyed his commands and worked hard we could achieve anything. I got good grades and went to the colleges I had aspired to attend. My life was going exactly as I planned. I fell in love in college and my life was perfect. But I was in for the jolt of my life. God had other plans for me.

The first big jolt was when I had to break up with my college sweetheart because his parents wanted him to marry someone from their community. Through the worst heartbreak of my life I held on to my faith in God and promise that God had someone better in mind. I asked God to assure me this was the right decision so I made chits - one that said choose my boyfriend and the second one that said not to choose him. I threw the chit twice and both times the answer was NO. In a moment of weakness I doubted God and confessed to him that I had made a life changing decision based on chits and still had doubts if I had made the right decision. That day when I was reading my bible this is the verse God gave me - "The lot is cast in the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord." - Proverbs 16:33. I felt like I had be punched in the gut but at the same time was overjoyed at how directly the Lord was speaking to me. I clung on to that verse through all the emotional turmoil that stewed inside me and it gave me the strength to move on. I eventually met my husband Brice and although our married life is far from perfect, we have been together for 10 years and have 2 beautiful children.

That brings me to the second jolt of my life; something that no matter how much you prepare yourself for will change the rest of the course of your life in ways you couldn't possibly imagine - the untimely death of a loved one. In my case it was my mom. It started in the summer of 2011 when I visited mom and dad in Delhi with Brice. We had been married just a little over a year. A few months earlier mom had been diagnosed with

Nithya's mother, Pauline

high blood sugar. We were upset but felt like it was inevitable as her dad suffered from diabetes and diabetes can be hereditary. Since it was hot in Delhi we decided to take a family vacation in Mussorie. Little did I know at that time that this would be the last vacation with mom. We had a lovely time but something kept bothering me about mom; she was looking very thin. Frankly cancer crossed my mind cause I knew unexplained weight loss was a red flag. So when we were back in Delhi I took her for a check-up and the doctor attributed her weight loss to her new diet due to her diabetes. A few months later dad told me he was concerned and wanted to take her to a specialist, I agreed. He called back a few hours later saying they suspect cancer and were doing further tests. I wasn’t shocked as I had a premonition a few months earlier. A couple of days later the test came back positive for pancreatic cancer. I was devasted as I knew the survival rate was in the single digits and since there was no cure for this type of cancer she would die sooner or later. It was horrible having no hope from a medical standpoint. She decided to go for surgery and chemo so we supported her praying and hoping for a miracle. I learnt I was pregnant during this time and it was a hard time emotionally. I couldn’t travel to see mom due to complications in my pregnancy and had decided to go and be with her in the 7th month until my maternity leave was over. There were times during those months when I didn’t know if I would see mom alive again and if she would hold on till I reached Delhi. I finally made it to Delhi and had Kyra. I will never forget the look on mom's face when she held Kyra for the first time when I returned home from hospital. Despite her weakness and pain she would sing to Kyra and the love that she showered on all of us in those last few months of her life was unbelievable. She had an unwavering faith that she would be healed and the few weeks before her passing when she realized she would die soon she held on to God despite the fear of death and the disappointment that He had chosen not to heal her. She said goodbye to all of us the day before she died and revealed that God would take her the next day. She breathed her last at 6 AM the next day on June 21st 2012.

Although I knew this day was coming for months nothing prepared me the emotions I felt. I questioned everything including my faith, I cried for answers to the question Why me, why my mom? But didn’t get an answer. I felt God had abandoned me. The Bible says if you have the faith of a mustard seed you can move mountains. It hit me like a pile of bricks that my faith wasn't even the size of a mustard seed.  I lost my faith. I couldn’t pray or read the Bible. I was lost for many years. As the years went by the loss of my faith and the lack of my ability to trust God took its toll on me. I developed severe anxiety as I worried about everything. I couldn't surrender anything to God. Years rolled by. Nothing in life had any real meaning. I was just existing. In 2017, I learnt I was pregnant again. I had a really tough pregnancy and was looking forward to having the baby and the extended maternity leave. Alan arrived on February 1st 2018 and we were thrilled. It was after a long time that I felt pure joy and was grateful to be alive. Our joy was short-lived as the next day Alan was not feeding and his tummy became distended. They shifted him to the NICU and soon after told us he would need emergency exploratory abdomen surgery. I had been crying since the time they shifted Alan to NICU as I felt hopeless. I couldn't even pray during the worst moments of my life. I tried but no words would come out. We had no idea what was the problem and had to sign off on them just poking around in our new-born's abdomen. We signed the consent forms and I went to see Alan one last time before he went into surgery. I said goodbye to him begging him to come back to me but also trying to take in that moment knowing that it might be the last time I saw him alive. It was undoubtedly the most painful moment of my life. When I look back honestly I don’t know how I got through it. Alan came through surgery and the doctors came out and spoke to us. They explained that Alan had Hirschsprung's disease and they had created a colostomy. He would need a second surgery to remove the damaged portions of his bowel and reconnect everything. I decided to take it one day at a time and that’s how I got through the months leading up to his second surgery. His second surgery took place when he was 5 months and it was complicated as he had adhesions from his first surgery. It took 7 hours and his recovery was slow. We were in hospital for 13 days instead of 3 days initially planned. After that he developed infection after infection and we were back in hospital several times. The doctors were puzzled by his complications and we visited several surgeons who wanted to do more surgery.

It was during this time that I cried out to God to help. I realized I had no standing with God but knew in my heart that God had brought us so far and he was the only one who could heal Alan. Healing came slowly; Alan made it to his first birthday and then to his second. We continued to have several scares; the last one as recent as May but the intensity of the infections have reduced and his recovery is faster. I continue to pray for complete healing for Alan. My faith is not the same as when I was young. It is different and I feel like I'm back at the start, a beginner. The Lord is helping me build my faith from scratch. But now I have hope, I savour the time spent with Alan and Kyra in the moment instead of worrying about the future. The word of God has deeper meaning now because of all that I have been through. I don't know what the future holds and there are days when everything seems too much to bear but I have the belief that with God on my side I will be able to help others through my struggles. I would like to end with the famous verse from Psalm 23:1 - "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want." We have heard this verse a million times but how many of us truly accept God to the degree that we want for nothing. Have we surrendered to Him to lead, protect and guide us. Have we reached that point in our lives where He is enough.

It is my hope for each of us that we can say without a doubt "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."

Love Nithya.

Nithya with Kyra and Alan

Madhuri Shekhar's 'A Nice Indian Boy.'

Here is the best thing I can say about how good the play 'A Nice Indian Boy' was: that I went to see it twice. 

The first time, on Valentine's Day, on my own, because it was rated PG-13 and because we have no friends or babysitters here yet that we can request taking care of our kids while we take some time on our own -- like a normal, parental couple would. So Melvin's Valentine's Day gift for me was to drop me off at Victory Gardens, take the kids for a treat in a nearby bakery and pick me up again after the show.  So pushing the guilt aside, I grabbed a 'Mumbai mule' from the lovely bar downstairs at Victory Gardens and headed up to the show -- telling myself that I love live theatre and it keeps me sane and connected in my isolated 'all work and no play' (pun intended) world.

It was quickly obvious that the play's PG-13 rating does not apply to Melvin's or my values and sensibilities and that this could have been a family outing for us. Adding to my regret was the fact that another extended family in the audience had brought along some kids -- and at least two appeared to be of my girls' ages (pre-teens). Two more appeared to be in their teens. I texted to my family during intermission that we are coming back again. Together.  Melvin's response was 'huh?' 

So we went back again yesterday-- February 15th.  I gave a crash course to my kids on DDLJ (which is referred to quite a bit in some scenes), Mumbai's cosmopolitan Marathis, Ganesha, Indian stereotypes, parental magnanimity, sibling rivalry, sibling love and support, liberal values, first generation immigrant parents' idiosyncracies, second generation's insularity, first generation's expectations of second generation's behaviors towards them. And finally, the elephant in the room and it is what you think (if you clicked on the link above) but it is also not what you think.  It is not even Ganesha who as a deity has a huge presence in the play.  It is the Indian's expectations about who is a true or a good, natural-born Indian and this little-discussed -- perhaps light-hearted but perhaps not -- reverse "discrimination". I also told them not to be shy about a very explicit kissing scene, putting it in context thus: "I allow you to watch Western movies where men kill men with one fast-drawn gun. If you are allowed to watch that, you can see this without any doubt."  I warned them that on a couple occasions they will hear some swear words -- but nothing that they haven't already heard on their school grounds or from my mouth when I am really mad about something. (Yes, so I said it out loud and publicly. Now flog me.)  Whether the crash course helped or not, I cannot be sure; whether the kids followed every dialog or understood every issue, of that too I cannot be sure (my kids' ages range from 8 to 12). But of this I am sure: that the big-picture impact of this beautiful, sensitive, witty, clever play will only make them more self-assured Indian American children and better human beings overall. That the play emphasizes the triumph of love and mutual respect for all -- whether separated by race, community or sexual orientation -- and by all -- whether by parents or progeny; brown or white -- is what they would ultimately remember. Of that I am sure. 

The California-based playwright Madhuri Shekhar (Chennai roots) appears to be talented and extremely insightful. All the actors were amazing -- but Alka Nayyar and Kamal Hans, even more so. Perhaps, they were just a tad older and much more experienced as actors, but they commanded the stage, even more so than the actors who played the younger characters (Kaiser Ahmed, Riley McIlveen, Suzan Faycurry).  

If you have a chance to see this Rasaka Theatre production, please do so.  Or better still, perform this play in your local community.  It is a lovely, lovely play.  

Director, Anna Bahow, on the play and the playwright: 'A Nice Indian Boy' is a romantic comedy with familiar tropes -- that are anything but familiar when immigrant assimilation collides with the adoption of a foreign heritage. The play challenges our traditioal concepts of ethnicity ad marriage. Shekhar has such respect for her characters and the humor is generous to all.  
          

FOR SALE

For sale the farmer advertised

the best bred of his stock.

And so he spread the news around.

The news travelled fast.

From far and near the buyers came

to see his red roan cow.

"Her pedigree's unimpeachable", he said.

"There's no doubting that

in the prime of life

giving gallons of milk,

many calves too she will bear.

Yet when she's old

She'll have so much beef

An army she may feed.

Her skin is of the softest roan

no factory can refuse…"

And so the farmer prattled on

the quality of his stock.

My son's of age the farmer thought

the eldest of his brood.

And so he spread the word around.

The news travelled fast.

From far and near the brokers came

of brides-to-be to speak.

"She's a homely type", one broker said.

"I assure you that

of flawless skin, the divine shape,

a house too she can keep.

A pleasure to behold

Yet ever so strong,

many robust sons she'll bear

of talented mein, with house worth lakhs,

jewels and farmland too she'll bring;

no thinking man'll resist…"

And so the broker prattled on

the quality of his stock.

"Why is this so" a daughter asks,

"that we be bought and sold?"

And soon she passed the message around.

The news traveled fast.

From far and near the women came

to see what could be done.

"We'll meet with hostility first," said one.

"We should recognize that

With bricks and bats and this and that

 they'll try to keep us down.

 We're human beings with brains and mind

and not just household slaves.

No more for us as dressed up dolls

and beings to bear more heirs.

We're through with being just mindless beings

whom man cannot resist…"

And so the women vowed to rise:

No more would they be stock.

By Malathi Raghavan 1984-85

For all those creating, inventing, re-inventing anything under the sun, including themselves.

I was re-reading Booker prize-winning author Ben Okri's 'Astonishing the Gods' the other day and came across a section that seems appropriate for people brave and curious enough to blaze their own trail and yet human enough to experience moments of short-lived aloneness and apprehensions. The symbolism embedded in his words is as delicate as it is powerful that I feel compelled to share it:

... 

The bridge, completely suspended in the air, held up by nothing that he could see, was a dazzling construct, composed entirely of mist...made of light, of air, of feelings...
'What holds up the bridge?' he asked his guide.
'Only the person crossing it,' came the reply.
'You mean that if I am to cross the bridge I must at the same time hold it up, keep it suspended?'
'Yes.'
'But how can I do both at the same time?'
'If you want to cross over you must. There is no other way.'
...
'But if I am heavy will the bridge bear me?'
'If you can bear yourself, the bridge too can bear you.'
'And I must cross this bridge?'
'Yes, you must cross the bridge.'
'And if I do not cross?'
...
'I assure you, it is better to try to cross that bridge and fail, than not to try at all.'
...
When he did look back,...he found himself at the end of the most magnificent bridge...He thought of it as the bridge of self-discovery...When he looked back, he was astonished to find that the bridge had disappeared...[H]e had somehow managed to walk across emptiness... 

[T]ouched with a magical humility, he realised the nature of the small miracle he had enacted in his life.

-- Excerpted with awe and care from 'Astonishing the Gods' by Ben Okri and published by Little, Brown & Company (1995).