The Chindian Journal

This marks the year of the dog. I was born the year of the dog- so I think that means it will not exactly be my luckiest year. Well hot diggity dog- I got you beat. I won a $500 Travel Voucher towards a Chinese tour company just the other day! I never win anything- so you could imagine my excitement on this small win. Actually, I was already haggling with this same company for the tour that I have booked in April. Yes! We are going to Zoya and Zayn’s fatherland in April – mainly to visit Xin’s paternal grandmother- who will be turning 100. Talk about ringing in the Chinese New Year with a big bang. And what a blessing this will be, for Xin’s grandmother to meet her two great-grand kids at the age of 100, during the Year of the Dog. The Dog, who is loyal, honest and just- representative of the qualities we all desire from our loved ones. 

Unfortunately, those doggone qualities were not exactly what Xin’s father possesses.  

Papa Miao had come to our wedding. He was welcomed with love, happiness, and a bit of crazy at my big fat, Indian wedding.  Xin was so pleased he was there. They went out to go suit shopping together- a very cute Father/Son bonding moment. After the wedding ended, Papa Miao dropped us off at the airport for our journey to Bali and my funny, hilarious cousin from London came along for the ride.  I remember the conversation like it was yesterday.  He wanted to share some delightful Chinese noodles for dinner with Papa Miao in Chinatown- and so they made a plan to do so after dropping us off at the airport.  I think they had a lovely time, and I hope that Papa Miao saw what a wonderful, light hearted, fun filled family we were.

I am not exactly sure what happened. But 2 years later, we found out I was expecting with Zoya. Moreover, we were so excited to tell Papa M. Xin called him and shared the news, only to find himself hanging up in a rage of fury and ball of anger. “My father doesn’t care that you are pregnant and wants nothing to do with his grandchild!”    Wait, what? I did not understand. Tears started pouring down my face. I was pregnant. I was bringing a child into the world- it was one of the happiest moments, we were so thrilled to share, but this man shut it down in a matter of minutes. How could he not want anything to do with his precious granddaughter? A knife had pierced our hearts that day, and there was blood. Blood that never disappeared. A rift was created, a bond broken. Xin and his father had not spoken since.

I could not help but wonder- “When he came to our wedding, was it just for appearances?” “Did he never really accept me or my family?” “MIAO, I told you we should have done a tea ceremony!”

Eventually, we stopped talking about it. Zoya was born, our lives changed forever. The thought of Papa Miao haunted us on important days- Zoya’s birthdays, Chinese New Year. But Xin refused to get in touch again. I said “Just send him a picture; he would have to melt upon seeing this little creature that looks like him”. But no, Xin never gave in. Stubborn as that Ox, as it says in his Chinese Zodiac.

He would speak about it with his friends that understood, and had gone through similar situations. That was his way of dealing with it. The memories of his father never really being there throughout his childhood, haunting him every so often.

4 years later, we gave birth to our little prince, Zayn. Xin decided to try again and tell Papa M he has a grandson, someone to carry on his name, his legacy. Papa M never picked up. Again, the heart was pierced, right at the core.

As you all know, we are going to China. To visit Papa M’s MOTHER. Well- slight dilemma. We did not know if she was still alive. Of course, you would hope that Papa M would have called to tell us if something had happened, right?  Lucky for us; Xin’s maternal aunt in China has some great stalkerish skills.  She hunted Papa M down and learned that Grandma was actually in the hospital due to a broken rib. Papa M was going to put her in a nursing home. While Aunt and Papa M were having a small exchange, Aunt said “By the way your son and his family are coming here.” and Papa M quickly responded by saying he was actually going to be in the states for some personal matters. But the icing on the cake was, Aunt wanted to show him recent pictures of the kids. And do you know what Papa M said? “No need, I have already seen them.” WHAT! No, MO FO, you have not. You did not even know they exist.

Again, Xin was left heart broken.

We are going to China- yes we are going to China in our entirety. The Chindians in full force, in your face. We are GOING TO find Grandma in her nursing home, and we will make sure Papa M understands what he is missing. I hope in this year of the Dog, we can make amends with Papa Miao and he can see and fall in love with his grand kids, the same grand kids that share his blood and represent him in many ways.

After all, it is the year of the dog, isn’t it? Dogs are loyal, compassion, and caring towards their masters and humans in general. I hope this year brings you all much happiness, love, and good luck. Xin Nian Qui Le from our family to yours!

As I have said before, I cannot deal with pain. But I would be remiss to not discuss this. Another school shooting. 17 innocent lives lost – because our country cannot get their $HIT together and work on gun control. No you freaking orange man- you do not need to look at the mental state of people, you need to block people from getting GUNS. Schools are supposed to be a safe haven. I do not ever remember my parents having to ask me about my escape plan if there was a shooter at our school. But I find myself asking Zoya every so often “What would you do if someone dangerous came? What is your plan? How do you escape?” I find some relief after she actually tells me her logical and sensibly, practiced plan.  I do not ever hear about school shootings in Singapore or Denmark. So WTF? 

My heart is broken today, Parkland,FL. And no, I am not going to pray. I am going to get out there and write some hateful ass emails to the legislators that support the NRA. FU, Orange Man. FU

Behind every great man is an even greater woman- Coretta King, Anne Boleyn, Jacqueline Kennedy, Michelle Obama (my fave!). 

These women supported and gave their men the strength they needed to succeed and make their mark in history.  Somehow, these women were able to stick by their side, uphold the house, carry out political agendas that changed society, and be the comfort and voice of reason at the end of it all. 

Momma Shamshudin is that woman for the man I spoke of a couple of entries ago. And so goes the story of Fiza- the great woman behind Hakim, a.k.a Romeo.  Hakim’s drive to be passionate for life is boosted by his boulder- this gem of a woman that has dedicated the past 25 years to taking care of my disabled father. 

Mom was the sole breadwinner of our household growing up. She did the taxes, paid the bills, put food on the table, and even managed to put some money towards my college tuition. I respect and admire Fiza’s hustle and patience to this day. As a child, my mother in my eyes was this badass NYC professional. And I loved when she would come home with a small token for me after her long days- whether it be a new shirt from Strawberry, my very first Cinderella VHS, or Mariah Carey’s Dreams CD.

Dad’s condition has affected us all. Nevertheless, the person that has been affected the most is my mother. She has had to forgo any type of social events and outings, which have really disconnected her from her friends. Not to mention traveling is really out of the question. Going to public places are quite daunting for mom- she has to put up with Dad’s tantrums and wait patiently as Dad still feels the need to wander the aisles of Shop Rite for 5 hours, alongside his walker. They truly are the perfect example of the disgruntled elderly couple that frequents grocery stores during the day. Mom’s typical day consists of taking dad to his doctor appointments, cleaning up after him, and escorting him to the bathroom. This is not the life she or anyone would have imagined for himself or herself. Things we take for granted- spontaneous plans, booking travel on a whim, a night out for dinner, going to a friends’ house- these do not exist for my mother today. And trust me, we have told her several times that she can utilize us to watch Dad, but she never leaves his side. Mom- you have more than upheld your bargain of the wedding vows in its purest and truest form- “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish…”

Despite the circumstances, mom and dad both have still managed to find the small little joys that bring them together-such as their exchange of laughter when their grandson embraces them or even their random date nights at the corner restaurant by our house- a feel-good retro 70’s diner type place, the one they always refer to as the “Family Restaurant”

Mom- you are a good woman. You put up with Dad’s crap, our crap. Yet, you have thick skin. You have somehow managed to display the truest form and characteristics of what it means to be a woman, while bridging the gender gap and showing society a different perspective with “role reversals”. Thank you for being the symbol of a strong, female prowess that also possesses loyalty and compassion. This world needs more of you.

Happy Birthday to you, Momma.

Life is not perfect. It is not about white picket fences, blooming roses, big homes, and fancy cars.
Social media pics are a hoax. Facebook, Instagram-it is all a façade. Those moments for sure happened- but no one ever knows what REALLY happened the few minutes before the picture was taken or hours after the comments were posted. We as a society are always trying to create the perfect portrayal of the lives we live- almost to justify to our Social media world that we belong…
Do not get me wrong- I love social media- it is a great way for me to connect with family and friends, near and far.  However, it can also give people such false impressions of what peoples’ lives are really like. 

I posted this picture. Everything looks amazing, so fun, great family picture by the iconic Rockefeller Center tree, blah, blah, blah.
What you did not know is that it was freaking freezing outside, and my baby was so damn cold. Xin was getting mad at me for waiting in line for Magnolia’s. (I NEEDED BANANA PUDDING, DAMN IT!))
We needed to eat quickly- hunger was taking over, and our moods were quickly plummeting like Trump’s rankings. I thought to myself, “Quick, Shenaz, you have 2 seconds to think of a place before your kids go ballistic and Xin becomes hangry monster”. Therefore, the Brazilian place at the corner it was.
We sat down to eat, the baby lost it, and Zoya made a mess of her cupcake that she had gotten from Magnolia’s. It took me about 15 mins before I could actually take my coat off. I am sure we disrupted everyone’s romantic dinners around us.  Turns out, I really could not eat my food.  It was a true test of my patience. What happens when I lose my patience? Well my partner gets the brunt of it (sorry Miao)
If you have not figured it out by now, both Xin and I are hot headed. Crab meets crab. (We are both cancer signs). So when we fight, WE FIGHT. The good thing is, once we let it out of our systems, we are good again. It is almost like a car running out of gas. We let the fuel out, refuel, and you are good to go again for another 300 miles.
The moral of my story is: I do not have a perfect life, whereas, maybe to the outsider, it looks like I have all my $hit together. No, no, no- you are wrong. I obviously will not post on Facebook, “Hey friends, I just had a massive fight with my mom and dad, and they want to move out”. Or “Xin and I just screamed at each other at the top of our lungs and it scared Zoya so much”.  We are human. We are not perfect. However, we realize our faults. And we aim to be better for the next time around.
So next time you feel society’s pressure via a social media picture, take a step back and remember, there is more to the story than meets the eye. Be you, do you. I will not judge and neither should you. 

I hate self-pity and sob stories. Maybe it’s because I can’t stand to deal with the reality of pain and suffering – I tend to look at the positive perspective of things. Or maybe it’s because my very own father, who has been suffering from many disabilities, can still sit around with a smile on his face.

Imagine, this man has been home bound for the last 25 years, and yet, he has not given up on himself. He has the will power and stubbornness of a mule. Won’t stop, can’t stop.

Don’t get me wrong. The man has pride- he won’t accept the fact that he is disabled. The key is to let him think he can still do things and help around the house.  “You want to clean the table????? Sure- go ahead” (I cross my fingers to hope he doesn’t fall while doing so).  If I told him he was incapable, he would have screamed and shouted till he got his way. Parents at this age are very similar to my 4 year old.

But Hakim, he’s secretly my hero. I wrote about him back in 5^th grade (my very first writing award from the township!) and I write about him again, 26 years later. 

Basically an orphan, my father lost his mother during childbirth, and his father died when he was only 10 years old. They were a poor family, Dad recalls his father making slippers from the rubber of tires to get by. Dad was survived by his older sister, 19 years older to him. She kept Dad in check. My dad is very Zanzibari- stubborn, strong willed, adventurous, and passionate for life.  They used to call him “Romeo”. (You should see his black and white model picture).  Romeo’s enthusiasm for life is like none other- I always envision a young Hakim, running around the alleys of Zanzibar, diving into the oceans and causing ruckus with the town locals, almost like a real-life Aladdin. Dad’s passion led him to explore many different areas of the world- China, India, Iraq , and he ultimately immigrated to the United States in the 1970’s, where he found his Princess Jasmine (HA, Fiza!)

Dad was always a very healthy, adventurous man. But there were many unfortunate circumstances that I believe have led him to where he is today. Back in Africa, Dad had an accident, which I believe may have been the start of his damages to the spinal cord. The medical treatment in Tanzania isn’t exactly the best, and many folks are frequently misdiagnosed. After Dad’s accident, he was told time would heal and there was nothing to be done. Fast forward years later when he was settled in New York- Dad was working in a leather factory, where he accidently tripped over some wires, and fractured his ribs. Good ole’ Elmhurst Hospital in Queens didn’t see anything else wrong.  Years later, it appears that these major accidents in my Dad’s life had damaged his spinal cord nerves, therefore, debilitating his movement and walking capacity. We moved to Somerset, New Jersey from Queens, NY in 1992. It was right around then that we noticed Dad was limping way more than normal.  After a few falls, my mother decided it was time to have Dad call it quits with his job and commuting to New York.  And that’s when it began…….

After numerous doctor visits, appointments with spinal cord surgeons, and other specialty doctors, the message was clear- it would be impossible to operate on Dad, after many, many years of nerve damage.  Dad was still functioning at this point- able to drive, walk, carry on with his somewhat normal activities- just now with a lot of limping.  It was after I went to college in 2000 that I realized Dad wouldn’t be able to share a father-daughter dance with me at my wedding, or even go for a swim again in the nasty Atlantic City beach ocean.

Weddings were always hard- I often found myself crying when I would see a father share a dance with the bride- thinking that I never would be able to share that moment with my father. Well, my future proved me wrong.

No, it wasn’t a miracle. It was just a different perspective. On my wedding day, my family brought out my dad in his wheel chair to share a dance with me. Sure, it wasn’t how I had imagined it, but I was so thankful and grateful to have shared that moment with him.

Yes, my dad is disabled. Yes, he can’t really travel like he used to. But he still loves life. He loves to tell his story about his Romeo days to anyone that will listen, and he is so blessed to watch his two grandchildren grow up. Hakim has the determination and still the same stubbornness he always has. And if you look closely, you can still see the young Romeo in him. (He manages to flirt with all the waitresses in the restaurants and as of recent, even the nurses that have taken care of him in the hospital).  Hakim, you have taught me to take life as it comes, and have a positive outlook across all facets of life. As Shakespeare once wrote in Romeo and Juliet “Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.”  Thank you for teaching me to hold my head up high and to never stumble and fall. Happy Birthday, Daddy

Our 2nd born just turned 1 this past Sunday, November 12th. And now we are on a flight to Cancun, Mexico without the kids. I know what you’re thinking- selfish. But before you jump to conclusions- let me tell you how I pulled off an ARGGHHH Mazing party for my little man. The party put my Pinterest board to shame. I typically don’t boast about my talent in this arena- or lack there of, and maybe that’s why I feel the need to show off this small success, a mission I would have thought impossible a few years ago. 

It was the Benz of parties. And not because of the money we spent. But because of the quality and time I took to design it. We put together a pirate themed treasure hunt type party at our house – fully loaded with all the bells and whistles. -Decorations from Oriental Trading (why is it called Oriental trading!!??? None the less, they make amazing, cheap decorations.), a pirate cake from our favorite bakery, the best Indian food in town ; the kind that just hits you with comfort and perks your taste buds up, and the damn best entertainment around, me dressed up as a pirate leading the treasure hunt. I put together clues for the kids- which directed them to an arts and craft table, where they had to use their little imaginations and decorate treasure chests and pirate swords , then they were tasked with walking the plank and avoiding the sharks in the makeshift pool I created in the play room, and finally they were led to their final treasure- a piñata in the garage full of globs of candy goodness. It was a hit, baby was super happy, guests were happy, and there was enough food for all. SUCCESS.  Shenaz-1. Pinterest-0

The question always comes up though- from family, from friends- why did I even bother doing a party like this? Was I showing off? No ,no- not at all. I set goals for myself. And I have to prove to myself that I can execute on it. This was a far fetched goal for me, being able to replicate a Pinterest-esque party. Now that I have succeeded, I feel like I ran the Spartan race. (BTW, Xin just ran it and I am a super proud wife).  Small wins= pure bliss. This OCD with my goal setting doesn’t always fare well for me though. Case in point: I was trying to make pancakes for the birthday boy the morning of his actual birthday.  It was quite the challenge trying to get the will power to mix ingredients together for this task , after exhausting myself from the party. So I enlisted my mother’s help. I had set the goal of making light and fluffy pancakes for his special day- THEY HAD TO BE LIGHT AND FLUFFY.  While Baby was crying up a storm, my mother said she could help me so I could give the baby undivided attention,. And she attempted to help- but instead of hand mixing, she used the electronic hand blender- which made the batter THICK AND NOT FLUFFY.. That’s all it took to unleash the demon in me. Because it was not perfect, and no longer would be light and fluffy, I exploded.  I’m sorry, Mom. I know things sometimes don’t end up perfect, but I really wanted those pancakes to be the most perfect, tasty pancakes that little boy of mine would ever eat. So, I bought my mother flowers that day….

So, now Mexico.  It’s not the party. It’s not the pancakes.  Maybe those are some of the reasons to help justify. But honestly, because I think we deserve it. Because it was a bunch of friends that just need some time for R&Rl  We have not taken a vacation without the kids in 5 years. Perhaps we will come back better parents- the perfect dosage of sun, sand, and water should do the trick. Do we feel guilty? MY GOD- do we feel guilty. I cry at the sight of every baby and kid on the plane. Impressive, how these little creatures we call kids can have such an impact on you and your emotions. There is not a perfect way to parent, there is not a perfect way to make pancakes, and there is not a perfect way to throw a party. You are the master of your own destiny- you call the shots and you make it perfect in your own eyes. It’s about Perception. A wise man once told me , “ Happiness is achieved through a positive perspective. Everything in life is relative. You define your own success. “.  More on this wise man in the next episode……. Until then, adios amigos. Beinvenidos a Meheeeco

Happy Diwali folks! I came across this picture that a Chinese friend of mine posted on Facebook. Diwali in Hong Kong! 

Hong Kong actually has a pretty significant Indian population, about 36,342 per the latest census.  It is amazing to see the communities within Asia come together and celebrate these joyous occasions as one. Our family doesn’t celebrate Diwali, but we have a bunch of friends and family friends that do. For us, Diwali always embodied a spirit of happiness and liveliness- the symbols of light and color in everything we ate and did.  It was nice to see Diwali being celebrated in the same fashion in our neighborhood as well- people’s houses were decorated with lights, we heard some fireworks, and there were families all dressed up in their best gear, getting together for dinner. I love where we live. The smells, the people, the stores- it is our very own melting pot in a melting pot. One of the reasons my parents decided to move to Franklin Township, NJ from Queens, NY is not only because it would give us some more space, but also because there was still a lot of diversity. I love that this factor was important for my parents. I don’t give them enough credit, but they have ultimately influenced my positive values and the life that I have created for myself. On this day of Diwali, I Thank you mom and dad, for being the shining stars in my life and guiding me to surround myself with people and things that lift me higher.  

Today my first born, Zoya, turned 4. 4!!  I love the innocence of a child. After Zoya had blown out her candles on her ice cream cake, I of course asked her what she had wished for. Do you know what she said? “Someone to love, Momma”.  UH WHAT? “But you have me and daddy, and Ya Ya (Grandma) and Nanaji (Grandpa)”, I said.  “No, momma, someone to love, like you have daddy”.  Slow your roll there kid. I mean, you JUST turned 4.  Admittedly, I did think what she said was pretty special.  I do love that she wants someone to love.  Her wish actually validated that Xin and I must at least be doing something right and providing a loving environment for her. I hope we can continue to be that symbol of harmony and love for her, that she herself would want that in her future- a yin and a yang. Or shall we say, the Shiva and Shakti? (Don’t read too much into that)

To ring in Zoya’s 4^th, we spent the day yesterday with some of her favorite people and her bff’s. Of course, as tradition would have it, we made sure the birthday girl got to eat noodles for longevity.  In Chinese culture, long noodles are a staple for birthdays and New Year’s. Eating long noodles signifies a long life for whoever is eating them. Longevity is one of the most celebrated ideals in Chinese culture, along with happiness, fortune, and prosperity. Taoism, a philosophy imbued in China’s religion and culture, says that without life, there is no meaning, and therefore having a long life means everything

We also spent the day embracing some of our good, old American traditions as well. We took the kiddos to Dylan’s Candy Bar in the city. How fun that was, seeing their wide smiles plastered on their faces while filling their bags with goblets of peach rings and chocolate covered worms. It was very reminiscent of my childhood- (well somewhat). I remember going to my local Armenian bakery in Queens and stock piling on those Jordanian Almonds almost every other day.  The mounds of the green, yellow, and white coated almonds was just pure joy in my mouth. I would savor them till the very last taste of the coating had melted.  How I wish to be a kid some days!

The day ended with us taking the kiddos to the Lego store in Flatiron- a beautiful mini replica of Lady Liberty made out of Lego blocks greeted us at the front. Zoya got a few pictures with it. I can only hope that she grows to understand and appreciate what Lady Liberty means for her – the symbol of freedom, a lit lamp that will always hold open its golden door for all those that enter……I hope……

Zoya is my mini-me.  I say that in the most proudest way possible.  Her sass, her ‘tude, the rolling of her eyes- I have to be honest, I LOVE it. Sure, she comes off as a rude B. But she walks and talks with such confidence; she EXUDES command. SHE IS BAWS, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Go get it Z. Be that boss lady, be that WOMAN that this world needs to see. You are the future, my Chindian warrior.

Today, she yelled at the frozen Netflix screen of a PJ Mask episode on the TV “Come on, this happens EVERY time”…… Since when did almost 4 year olds yell at the TV, like we would when Breaking Bad was on AMC and Walt White was about to do some crazy $hit. 

I wish for her to display that ‘tude, that sass and that coolness throughout her life. I could see her in court, the next Amal Clooney, defending the rights of Syrian refugees.  Zoya Clooney- has a really nice ring to it, doesn’t it? (They have a son now! Alexander Clooney)………

I am proud to be raising a girl. I want to make sure we teach our girls to have self-worth, dignity and self-respect. Always . We must pave the way for the future. Break those damn glass ceilings my ladies!