it wasn't supposed to have been this way...this was supposed to be the culmination of five years of ass-busting, no-sleeping, working constantly work...it was supposed to be the attainment of nabz superstarhood and the explosion of ideas and brilliance and love

instead

the leaves have fallen onto the ground

and I feel like I've lost everything

Off to the Temple We Go

Today is Diwali, the festival of lights. Now, usually, I'd celebrate Navratri, Eid and Diwali. But because of this move over to the Real East Coast (a nudge to all you Canadians who think TO = East Coast), and the lack of beautiful brown people in my life (a shout out to all my V-City Brownies), I missed both Navratri and Eid. While people back home danced around Maa-Bhavani's idol and hugged each other after seeing the Eid Moon and after Eid-Namaaz, I sat at home and hit update on Facebook so I could see their celebration pictures.

Such was my life - until today.

I went to the mandir today - the first time in quite a while. Back home, I'd always gone to the VHP one. Even though I didn't really agree with VHP philosophy. But the pandit-ji at this particular one was pretty open, and it was the temple that all the Gujjus went to - so whenever we went (which was less often than our forays to JK), we went to this particular one. So I found this NYC mandir online, and it was the closest one to campus (but in the Bronx). A bunch of friends and I got into a cab and made the trek to the Bronx, expecting Gujjus and yummy food.

It was a Guyanese mandir - and was definitely not what I was expecting. If you've ever been to a Gujju mandir, you'll notice that the prayers and ceremonies are very sober (very Gujju in fact). This one was a tad outrageous (not in the negative sense of the word). We ended up leaving half way through (we were starving) and were looking for a cab when an aunty came up to us and forced us to eat (I love aunty-jis...). And she also called us a cab...

Anyway...so the point of this post is actually quite different from the Happy Diwali story outlined above (p.s. Happy Diwali). What's important that this is the first time I've been to a house of worship out of my own free will in a really long time. Now, I know I don't fit into the Hindu philosophy much, but, it definitely felt good. And it made me think...

If I can believe in a mathematical infinite, what's stopping me (apart from myself and academic/societal pressures) from believing in a spiritual version of the same thing?

Thought du jour, for sure....Now back to Charles Taylor and 'The Politics of Recognition.'

I Know I Can Die

you don't truly understand mortality until you are made aware of it

and then - you understand it a bit too well