Tag: Family

Embracing Differences: Lessons from My Brother’s Husband – Manga Review

Life is strange. One moment, we find ourselves surrounded by family and friends. These are people who we believe have our best interests at heart, provide valuable counsel on our beliefs and convictions, and accept us for who we are and who we wish to be. But, now and then, life presents a situation where those very people seem like strangers. In their place, someone else comes along. Someone we have never met before. Someone who, with no immediate cause or reason, and by the simple honesty of their actions, becomes family.

This is the reality that hits Yaichi, a work-at-home suburban dad in contemporary Tokyo. Formerly married to Natsuki and father to their young daughter Kana, Yaichi’s life takes a turn when a hulking Canadian named Mike Flanagan arrives at their doorstep. But Mike is no ordinary person. He is the widower of Yaichi’s estranged gay twin, Ryoji. What follows is a melancholic and beautiful story, authored by the critically acclaimed Gengoroh Tagame, that sheds light on the highly closeted Japanese gay culture and how the next generation can positively influence its future.  

Confronting Differences

For Yaichi, Mike’s arrival is akin to opening Pandora’s box. Hidden within its depths aren’t sickness, death, and misfortune, but Yaichi’s own inhibitions, fears, regrets, remorse, and apathy. As the story unfolds, Yaichi wrestles with these emotions in extended inner monologues, amid moments that highlight the disruptive influence of Mike’s presence.

These monologues are brutally straightforward and describe the void that separates Mike’s world from Yaichi’s and vice versa. Their relationship, in its infancy, involves a fair share of prejudices and veiled preconceptions that Yaichi holds about Mike’s identity as a gay man. Yaichi feigns ignorance as a coping mechanism. While he is aware of his personal inhibitions, Yaichi takes the easy way out, rather than coming to terms with his feelings. Mike’s arrival forces Yaichi to face his inner demons.

It is a rocky start. Both men are seemingly lost on how to proceed with their relationship as in-laws. On one side, we have Yaichi wrestling with his twin’s past. On the other hand, we have Mike, who wishes to complete his family. It is like an awkward tea party, until Kana comes along.

Our Children Are a Reflection of Us

“Daddy has a brother?! Men can marry each other?! Is that even allowed?!”

“Well, it’s like…In Japan, it’s not allowed, but I guess it’s possible in other parts of the world.”

“Huh? That’s weird. It’s weird that it’s ok over there, but not here.”

Growing up, we are taught about the systematic rules that govern our day to day lives. Somewhere along the way, we lose our ability to question and engage, as well as our capacity to change the world dynamically. Early childhood remains an exception. Filters are meaningless to children. They don’t see the world the way we do as adults. It is their greatest strength, and it is what makes them so damn endearing. It is also for this very reason that we adults have to keep ourselves in check. Our behavior, worldview, and the answers we provide to their questions are crucial. It is not an easy task, and in many cases, it is through our eyes that our children’s worlds often lose their colors.

Yaichi is cautious in his approach to raising Kana. Mike’s appearance throws a wrench in what is a mistakenly ignorant lifestyle. Unlike her father, Kana has no inhibitions and becomes immediately attached to her Canadian uncle. Her curiosity and willingness to ask complex questions often catch both men off guard. At the same time, Kana’s innocence guides the two men to have the conversations they need. Gradually, Yaichi begins to change, and as he does, he begins to recognize the weight of his responsibility as a father. He understands the burden he has inadvertently placed upon his daughter. Kana never needed protection from Mike. Rather, he had been protecting himself from coming to terms with his past.

Chasing Shadows

There is one more thing children are great at, and that is calling out adults for their double standards. Especially true when it is about making excuses for ourselves. Kana does the same to Yaichi, setting the stage for the latter to accept his shortcomings as a brother and a father. This ultimately enables Yaichi to seek redemption.

With Mike for company, he relives the childhood memories of his brother; memories buried deep in his heart. The resulting journey is one of fulfillment for both men and something that brings the whole family together. Yaichi’s redemption operates on multiple levels, illustrating how every individual is a product of various threads of influence, including family, cultural stereotypes, religious beliefs, and traditions. On the other hand, helping Yaichi through this process also ensures that Mike fulfills his husband’s wish for the latter to meet his family. From being reluctant about Mike’s presence in their lives, by the conclusion of the story, Yaichi feels encouraged by his company. Finding happiness in their differences, he openly states that Mike is a part of his family.

That pieces together the final message of the story. In this world, our lives are a transient phenomenon. There are very few who we get to meet, know, live with, and who live for us. In the short time that we have together, rather than dividing ourselves over our differences, let’s live with acceptance.

Gengoroh Tagame

The author of dozens of graphic novels, Gengoroh Tagame’s past works have primarily catered to the adult gay manga audience. My Brother’s Husband is his first all-ages title and an Eisner award-winning title at that. In a dramatic change from the graphic depictions of hypermasculinity, sadomasochism, and sexual violence common to his works, Tagame relies on various cultural motifs to elevate and distinguish the polarizing and heartbreaking nature of life in a highly closeted Japanese gay culture. My personal favorite in My Brother’s Husband involves varying cultural interpretations of otherwise structured sushi dishes to relate to Yaichi’s changing perception of Mike.

My Brother’s Husband is a heart-warming story describing how familial connections can originate from surprising corners of the world. The world is not as big as it used to be. Social media has contributed to this, and we are all caught up in its rapid frenzy, some of which is not entirely positive. My Brother’s Husband switches up the pace. It is heartbreaking, yet hopeful. It is painful, yet healing. It asks us to slow down and look around. It asks us to not throw our judgments upon others so haphazardly. It asks us to be willing to have a conversation. All this and more, in a beautifully rendered story that emphasizes the importance of compassion.

Passing Clouds – Confronting Setbacks

“You are never too old to set a new goal or to dream a new dream.” – C.S. Lewis

I have been away for the past year. I was lost. I still am to a certain degree, but I don’t want to admit it. Writing this, I guess, is an acceptance of sorts.

I have faced several setbacks in my life, but I have never let them break my spirit. It is far more challenging to do the same when that setback not only affects you but also your loved ones.

Life is strange. One minute, you have everything you have always wanted. Next, you seemingly lose it all. In my case, I was laid off, and with that, a whole lot of other things just fell into disarray.

The past year has been about coming to terms with the reality of an unpredictable future. Nothing that I haven’t confronted before, but it hurt a lot more knowing that my setback would also affect my family.

There is a certain levity with which you can live your life when you are alone, assuming you are in the right headspace. For some, this is not fun. After all, who likes being alone?

I was alone for a long time, and that journey involved a significant amount of soul-searching until I met my wife. With her by my side, I found a reassuring certainty, and nothing seemed impossible. Now, we are a family, and as a result, my responsibilities have grown. There is now a little one to look after; someone who makes my day brighter, no matter what happens.

Getting laid off was a crushing experience and quite unexpected. It put a wrench in my career aspirations. No one was to blame, and when the news hit, all I could think about was how to move forward.

Children wear their emotions on their sleeves. They do not hesitate to express their feelings vocally, either by shouting, screaming, or crying. Adults, on the other hand, are a complicated mess. I’m the type who restrains their emotions, holding them all in like an overinflated balloon. I do not know why, but it has something to do with being strong.

Being laid off was different. It wasn’t about restraint. There was simply no time to reconcile with my emotions. At one end was my wife, suffering from post-partum depression, and on the other was my loving daughter, who, like all kids do, sought 24/7 attention.

I had to be strong for them. So, I dove back into the hectic world of an unemployed individual seeking jobs. The world has not been too kind to those in the same boat as myself.

It has been tiring.

But this morning, I woke up to the sound of my daughter’s voice as she said, “Appa, good morning! Happy Father’s Day!” She held a gift bag in her hands, and within, were an assortment of crafts she had made for me.

That is when it struck me. I had been waiting so long to find the time and space to confront my deep-seated frustrations, anger, and disappointment; to somehow overcome my nagging insecurities. However, in that moment, as I experienced the happiness surrounding me, I realized I had already moved past my insecurities, thanks to the two individuals sitting across from me.

Dreams are like passing clouds. They are never set in stone. They mutate and transform. When I started this blog in 2016, I dreamt of a career in scientific research. I faced setbacks. I rued not being given a chance to prove myself. I fell down and I got back up. What matters most to me now is a life where I can keep my loved ones happy. That means sharing my highest AND lowest moments with them. Writing allows me to achieve this when I’m unable to speak for myself.

It is now time to go back to the drawing board. A fresh start is no different than staring at a blank piece of paper. The emptiness is daunting but also invites adventure and opportunity. I only have to take a step forward.

When Dreams Fade – Battling Depression and Finding Purpose

What can you do when a loved one sinks into a pit of despair and you are relegated to being a silent bystander, watching it all unravel?

It has been a while everyone. The daily circumstances of my life took a sharp nose dive since my last post on March 15, 2023. To provide some context, I need to go back to 2021 when my wife and I received the greatest gift we could ask for, our baby daughter. Her birth brought forth an enormous amount of change in our lives. We moved from Edmonton, our “20s” home, to Calgary. I landed the ideal job in a career that allowed me to equally indulge my appetite for science, writing, and other creative pursuits.

Our journey as parents hasn’t been easy and remains a struggle to this day but we love our little girl. Ups and downs are the norm and we had to postpone some of our plans and goals but the ensuing joy we found in our daughter’s company made it all worth it.

My wife played an enormous role in motivating me toward a career in writing. She wholeheartedly wished that I pursue my dreams to the fullest and to never give up on my goals. Going into 2022, I wanted to do the same for her. After our daughter’s one-year birthday, I encouraged her to pursue doctoral studies, and so, it began.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Several factors must come together when you are working toward your dreams and living as a family. In our case, it just was not meant to be. With my remote, work-from-home job, we thought the stage was set for a glorious transition. We were off to a great start in the fall of 2022, with my wife heading to university, and our daughter coping well in her absence. In fact, it was better than expected and I had the opportunity to experience several special moments as a father while taking care of our daughter at home.

But in due time, things would get increasingly difficult, especially from a work-life balance front. Having the support of your family is one thing and we were doing great in that aspect but my wife lacked the same in her career. A supportive, encouraging, and understanding supervisor is crucial for a student’s success. Unfortunately, my wife did not get that option. The insurmountable stress from her work would carry into our day-to-day lives. Gradually, our nights became sleepless, there were arguments, struggles in understanding each other’s frustrations, desperation in wanting to support each other’s dreams, and just trying to keep it all together.

Unexpected health emergencies involving our daughter would add to the caustic mood that pervaded our home. After several months of bitterness, fatigue, and exhaustion, we realized that this state of affairs was not sustainable. When the simple act of driving to your workplace sets you mad with stress, you know that something is wrong. As such, my wife decided to give up on her studies. Standing in the wake of her decision, as her dreams fell apart, all I could do was to hold her tight and let her know that everything would be all right.

A Short-Lived Peace

Despite how awful it felt initially, we knew it was the right decision. This was evident in the immediate and immense sense of relief that followed, as though a massive burden was lifted off of our shoulders. With it, there were fewer arguments, peaceful nights, and a lot more laughter in our home.

My wife missed spending time together as a family. She missed her daughter. She missed us. Putting everything aside, we strolled happily into March 2023. Our days were rife with adventure and our nights were filled with hope and wonder. Everything seemed perfect again. Never did I expect what followed afterward.

Sinking

I liken it to an instant fury. An explosion of emotions that carried me away and in its passing, I felt like I was drowning. I didn’t understand what happened but over a few days, I observed my wife slowly retreat into a corner within herself. No matter how much I tried to help, it didn’t make a difference.

The physical symptoms came first. It happened after my wife had stopped breastfeeding. Weekly cycles of nausea, fainting spells, and absolute fatigue. There seemed to be no end to it, and with every consecutive wave, I could sense my wife’s mental strength seep away.

Where there had once been renewed hope and happiness, and excitement for newer beginnings, there was now emptiness, apathy, and extreme grief. Two years after her pregnancy, my wife was diagnosed with severe postpartum depression.

Finding ourselves

For the rest of 2023, I felt like a spectator looking in on my wife’s struggles. Nothing I did seemed to help and all I could do was to just be there by her side. I felt like I had lost my partner while my wife felt that she had lost herself.

I wished to help her find her way back and I acknowledged that she needed this support from someone other than myself. A few months later, in the summer of 2023, my wife started therapy. It was on a need-to basis but it provided her a safe space to vent, gather her thoughts, and come to terms with her life. Old scars re-emerged, new wounds dug deeper, and dreams faded.

Closure

Reflecting on all of this, what my wife and I envisioned for our life after a child was in stark contrast to the reality we experienced. We frequently kept wishing about recovering lost time. It was most difficult for my wife. From the denial that she faced such a reality, to the anger for all the complications throughout her pregnancy, to bargaining on her goals and sinking in the depression that followed, to finally mourning for all that had come to pass.

Acceptance was not easy but we somehow made it. Our days and nights are better. We stumble on occasion but we have learned to pick ourselves up. Our daughter has been the light in the darkness. Living with her has all been about living in the moment and in that sense, we have grown stronger as a family. As for my wife and myself, this experience has only brought us closer. 2024 now lies ahead in an opportunity to rediscover ourselves and push ahead with renewed hope. We have remained steadfast in our promises to keep seeking our dreams and to be there for each other.

Now, it is back to the drawing board. I intend to pick up the pieces that were left behind, re-collect the dreams that had faded, and give them new purpose. After all, isn’t that what life is all about?

Celebrating Hinamatsuri and cultural connections

On March 3rd, my wife and I celebrated Hinamatsuri with our baby daughter.

Hinamatsuri, also called “doll’s day” or “girls’ day”, is one among the many beautiful traditions of Japanese culture. With preparations usually made over the preceding month, Hinamatsuri is an occasion to celebrate the health and happiness of young girls in the family.

The good wishes are expressed through the consumption of specific foods and intricate displays of hina-ningyō (ornamental dolls) representing the Emperor and Empress, their attendants, and musicians in the traditional court dress of the Heian period.

Wait, let’s back up…How did this all start?

Legend has it that the practice began in China where small paper or straw dolls were used as a medium to offload and absolve people of their sins and misfortune. After rubbing the dolls over their bodies, they would then be set off on the river and float away into the ocean or the neighboring village; the point being that one’s sins were gone or quite literally swept away. These practices were emulated by Japanese aristocrats (and continues to this day in the Tottori Prefecture of Japan).

Hinamatsuri, as it is celebrated now, became fashionable during the Heian period (794-1181). The belief that one could absolve themselves of their sins expanded to include hina-ningyō and the dolls were forever symbolized as vessels for prayers of hope and prosperity.

As dollmakers got better and better at crafting hina-ningyō, their increasing prices, value, and quality also leapt correspondingly. Families no longer were keen on absolving their sins with the dolls and chucking them into the nearby river. Rather, the dolls began to be placed on show, with increasingly intricate displays.

The hina-ningyō were first recognized and used in the manner they are now as part of the Peach Festival, Momo no Sekku (as peach trees typically flower around this time), when Princess Meisho succeeded the throne following her father Emperor Go-Mizunoo, in 1629.

Public domain

As female emperors were not allowed to marry, Empress Tokugawa Masako created a doll arrangement showing Meisho as being wedded. Hinamatsuri, as a festival, would officially become recognized in 1687.

So, how do we display the dolls?

It all depends on how many you have!

The entire set of dolls and accessories is called the hinakazari and can include up to fifteen dolls and various accessories for an enormous tiered display.

The most expensive dolls are placed at the highest tiers to keep them out of the reach of young children.

So, to start, the number of tiers and dolls a family can display depends on their budget. Generally, a set of the two main dolls including the Emperor and Empress is ample enough. The dolls are seated on red cloth amidst accessories that complete the representation of a Heian period wedding.

It is common practice for the dolls to be gifted after birth, with every girl in the family getting her own set of dolls. My wife was gifted her very own set when she was a baby by her grandparents (or my daughter’s great-grandparents). Our baby daughter got her own set (below) this year as a gift from her grandparents.

Enough about the dolls, what about the food?

My daughter asked the same question.

An assortment of treats are usually made for the occasion including Hishi mochi (multi-colored rice cakes), Ichigo daifuku (strawberries wrapped within adzuki bean paste), Sakuramochi (rice cakes with bean paste wrapped in a picked cherry blossom leaf), Ushiojiru (clam soup; the clam’s two sides fit perfectly to represent a strong marriage), and Amazake (sweet sake and non-alcoholic as we have kids involved).

-FYI, I felt real hungry as I wrote this-

Now, you don’t have to make all of this. It is difficult enough running after the little ones at home. Multi-tasking to make all these dishes, especially without assistance from other family members (as in our case, when our in-laws and immediate family live on the other side of the planet) would be a nightmare.

With our daughter mostly governing the house at this stage, we focused on creating one perfect dish, the Chirashizushi. This dish usually includes a combination of raw fish, veggies, and rice arranged in a bento box.

My wife’s chirashizushi included cooked shrimp, eggs, cucumbers, carrots, mushrooms, salmon caviar, and flavored sushi rice (all of which our daughter absolutely loves).

What happens to the dolls afterward? How about the boys?

Superstition states that the dolls must be put away the day after Hinamatsuri, as keeping them up any longer would result in a late marriage for the daughter. No worries here though, as this practice largely originated to protect the dolls from the rainy season and humidity that followed Hinamatsuri. Some families even keep the dolls up for the entire month.

Now, you may be wondering if this is “girls’ day,” what about the boys? Well, the boys don’t miss out as they actually have their own celebration a little later in the summer on May 5th, now known as Children’s day in Japan, but historically called Tango no Sekku or “Boys’ day.”

What’s the cultural connection?

I’m Indian and my wife is Japanese-Canadian, and we are very set on exposing our daughter to traditions from all three cultures. Whenever we discover a cultural parallel (and there are many), we are all the more excited to learn more ourselves.

In celebrating Hinamatsuri, I discovered that the festival and its Chinese counterpart share parallels with an ancient South Indian festival observed during the greater annual Hindu festival, Navaratri, in the honor of the goddess Durga. Known as Bommai Kolu, or Doll Festival, it is an occasion where young girls and women display dolls and worship the three Hindu Goddesses: Parvathi, Lakshmi, and Saraswati.

Much like Hinamatsuri, the Bommai Kolu is an occasion promoting creative expression for women and the fostering of family bonds, the difference being it is celebrated in the autumn festive season as opposed to spring.

What did we celebrate?

The family road so far has been a rough one for my wife and myself. As happy as we are in the company of our baby daughter, her birth came in the wake of a very difficult pregnancy, various health scares, and multiple hospital visits over the last two years.

Thankfully, our daughter is now hale and healthy, and living her best life while running an empire at home. She is our little queen with a big attitude, and an even bigger heart.

So, this Hinamatsuri we celebrated her good health for many more years to come, our happiness together as a family, and the joyful chaos she will be doling out on our lives.

What to do when you can’t do much – Dad edition

Part of being a fulltime work-at-home father and taking care of your baby daughter all day, while your partner is off to university, is to be ok with not being able to do anything at all.

Pose me with this problem, a few years back, I would have probably gone crazy. Thankfully, 12 years of university experience came through and gave me an indispensable ability to adapt to fast-changing environments, or in other words, my daughter.

Now, children come in all forms and fortunately, my daughter is an absolute angel. Of course, this offer doesn’t discount its fair share of troubles, but as long as we are able to maintain a consistent routine of dad doing absolutely nothing but procrastinate all day with his daughter, then we are talking business.

At first, the transition was very difficult. It was frustrating that I couldn’t do my hobbies or work on my own terms. Schedules weren’t schedules anymore. Rather, my planner became the equivalent of a versatile Power Morpher, morphing into different Rangers that I had to contend with every day.

But, as the months passed by, I realized that there was a lot more to the chaos than I gave credit for.

Don’t underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.

Winnie the Pooh

Pooh was right. Spending time with my daughter and just absorbing what she had to offer while committing to this daily ritual of procrastination really opened my eyes to all the valuable little details of my life.

In every moment that I got to share with my daughter, I found an entire life’s worth of inspiration, joy, and comfort. I learned to listen more than I have ever before, experiencing a great boost in my mental state, and an explosion of energy when it came to my creative pursuits. In my daughter’s company, I was seeing life through her eyes and experiencing the wonder of many firsts to come.

So, in due time, I was able to turn the tables and figure out four important things that I can do when I can’t do much in the first place:

1. It’s all about perspective.

Children are great at making you reconsider your perspective on just about anything. I used this to great benefit when it came down to tackling work and learning to reframe my mindset when confronted by new challenges.

2. Developing a mental diary/sketchbook

I didn’t have much time to do writing during the day, so how could I still get work done, when I’m not sitting in front of a computer? Carrying a mental diary/sketchbook of sorts is perfect for this. I capitalized on this during my daughter’s naptime and quiet playtime, creating mental charts on my graphic novel plots, sketchbook ideas, science articles to write, and developing a mental monologue on my professional work and creative hobbies. Once my partner came home, thanks to all the mental preparation, I would get all my day’s work done in the span of an hour or two. Productivity + Efficiency = Success!

3. Lots of Reading

You can find no better reading partner than your own child. My daughter loves books and she loves going through them by herself. Dad has a long reading list of his own, spanning all the stuff he wants to learn when it comes to writing novels, art, and fun. It is about time that he works through that list. So, what do we do? We read together. My daughter loves it when I can get involved in what she does by doing something similar. This leaves me with the opportunity of learning something new and improving my skills while teaching some to my daughter as well. Also, this works especially well during naptime!

4. Seeing the bigger picture and the value of time

Every good thing comes to an end. Children grow up REALLY fast. My daughter is an extreme case of that but I’m happy with it. She has taught me the value of time and how important it is to enjoy every moment we have with our loved ones, whenever and wherever possible. Indeed, these moments are precious memories we can revisit for many more years to come.

With all that said, rather than fight to work against my daughter’s flow, I made my routine a part of her own, enhancing my own productivity as a result. Most importantly, I have fully embraced the fact that there is nothing wrong in taking a step back and doing absolutely nothing for part of the day. After all, when it comes to children, there is always a happy surprise waiting to inspire you, around every corner.

Biryani – Recapping 2022

End of the year = recap time! It is an opportunity to look back at what I have accomplished and give myself a pat on the back. More often than not though, these recaps feature an expansive list of incomplete goals that I carry into the new year. 2022 is no different.

My last update in July celebrated the life of a childhood hero of mine, Takahashi-sensei, following his tragic passing. Moving on from there, everything seemed perfectly set in place to finish the second half of 2022 with a bang, but as always, life had plans of its own.

Now what does any of this have to do with biryani, the popular mixed meat and rice dish from the Indian subcontinent? Trust me, we are getting there. When it comes to Indian food, I particularly love biryani. Call me a “biryaniac”, if that is even a word, and much like all the ingredients and effort that goes into making a tasty biryani, my experience of 2022 was pretty much the same. Disclaimer: this is not an actual recipe.

We start by marinating the meat.

2022 began with an end. My wife and I left the frigid streets of Edmonton and moved to the Chinook-y plains of Calgary. Setting aside the initial melancholy of departing our 20s home in Edmonton, my wife and I grew to love what we found in Calgary. Settling into our new townhouse was a work of six months. Getting into the groove of being a full-time father, a lot more.

But, the longer the marination, the better it is.

Every moment with my baby daughter is a precious gift. From the swift punches to the sloppy kisses, she has taken me on the wildest ride of my life, one that continues to this day. My new career as a science writer was practically the cherry on top. The opportunity to work from home meant I could remain a constant presence in my her daily life while I continued working toward my professional goals.

With all the preparatory materials at hand, we move forward to get the spice paste, vegetables, and rice ready for our biryani.

Rolling into summer, we ground the spices and chopped the vegetables, categorically organizing our plans for the second half of 2022, and soaked the rice (in water) in anticipation of a family reunion. After nearly three years into the pandemic, we finally got to see our families again over the summer. The purchase of my first car would make the deal all the sweeter and much of the time between June to August would be spent on road trips visiting nearby destinations and relatives. I would also celebrate 31 years of traveling around the sun. Covid remained a worry and we would do our best to be vigilant and keep our activities to minimalistic affairs. Still, despite all our efforts, we would all fall sick with Covid by the end of summer, after having avoided it for nearly two years.

Temper and sauté time.

Covid brought everything to a halt. It was a frustrating experience. We were especially worried sick about our daughter. Post the sauté, came the cooking of the meat and the rice. And cook we did, feverishly so for a few weeks. We recovered in due time but the damage was done and our initial momentum stifled. In what was to follow, we couldn’t catch a break as it was soon assembly time.

Biryani, assemble.

From the pan and into the fire, layer by layer, we had to assemble our biryani, and that was when I took a step back from social media altogether. Each layer had its share of mixed ingredients. Dipping into the fall season, the first layer involved my immersion as a full-time father while my wife began her doctoral studies. It was a “relativistic” experience. Little time passed by and yet it felt like years. Babies grow up so fast, and seeing my life through my daughter’s eyes was inspiring. She challenges me to think in simpler terms about almost everything we do together.

I would transfer this mindset to my personal objectives and find clarity of thought where there had once been hesitation and indecisiveness. These formative months helped define my creative goals in writing and art as I would narrow down my preferred area of focus in storyboarding and writing, identify gaps in knowledge, deal with my insecurities as a science writer [more on this in a future post], and ultimately put together a flexible and efficient timeline in a solo artist/writer program for 2023 [more on this in a future post]. The transition, as a whole, was rough but time helped sort everything out. 2022 would wrap up with a few more hiccups and medical scares on my daughter’s part (thankfully nothing too serious), but one by one, layer by layer, the biryani was well on its way to completion.

It is done.

2022 has been a year of many beginnings and endings. I came to terms with the passing of various heroes and role models of mine. In October, I received a notification of a massive slew of views for the blog, mostly focused on my post about the art of Kim-Jung Gi. I didn’t think too much about it back then, only to find out later in November, about his sudden passing. On the happier side of things, I would bid farewell to the illustrious career of one of my favorite sports idols, Roger Federer, whom I had followed since the early 2000s. To cap it off, the World Cup was a lot of fun, and it was awesome to see Messi lift the trophy!

So, when all was said and done, the biryani was a perfect blend of all the ingredients that we had put into it. Akin to a pot of emotions, it represented a 2022 that had everything in it. Having found my real calling at a personal and professional level, I am very confident about my goals for 2023 in what will be an amalgamation of writing projects including short stories, poetry, novels, and art projects, that I’m committed to delivering. With my graphic novel script in its conclusive stages, I’m looking at a breakthrough final draft ready by the end of January.

That leaves us with the last bits of garnish (this blog post) sprinkled onto our biryani (the year that was 2022), as we look forward to our New Year’s meal.

And, for those among my readers, who really want to make a biryani, here is a link to one of my favorite online recipes: Tamil Nadu-style Mutton Biryani.

With that being said, I wish everyone a belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! 2023, here we come!

Things Fall Apart

No, I am not referring to Chinua Achebe’s debut novel (one of my favorite reads from high school). What I’m here to talk about is when plans go caput, like they did over the last two months since my last blog entry. The feature image of this post is a very good hint as to what may be responsible.

Before you proceed, beware, the Force (for all those Star Wars fans out there) is strong with this post.

A recurring theme of parenthood is the inability to exact on the plans and goals we set for ourselves. You may ask, “What happened? Where were you all these days?”

Put it simply, I became Obi-Wan Kenobi. Holed up in my office, I have spent the last two months reminiscing the glory days…

For almost 8 years, I was a happy man in an awesome relationship. There was peace and tranquility…before the dark times, before my Republic fell against the onslaught and ascendance of an empire led by a baby Darth Vader.

Unlike the actual Darth Vader, this baby Darth Vader is just so much more difficult to handle. Why? Because the chaos that ensues in her presence is accompanied by a forceful load of cuteness and all sorts of mushy feelings.

Nevertheless, our battles have been legendary. Collateral damage was inevitable. The state of my home speaks to that. The battles have taken their toll on my body as well and battle scars have been plenty with the most worrisome being a recurring shoulder injury that set me back from doing any writing or art for nearly a month. Recovery has been gradual but investing in an ergonomic office set up has made a big difference. The rings under my eyes are now a permanent addition to my battle-hardened persona, and with every passing day, I feel more like this guy,

Meanwhile, my partner hasn’t been faring so well either. Setting aside the reality of dealing with teething, baby vaccinations, and COVID scares, a potent combination that screwed up all the routines that I had set in place to assist the two of us, my wife has transformed into this guy (by her own admission),

Stress is a difficult opponent, and looking after a baby can sometimes be awful especially when your time is pretty much out of your hands and serves the whims of a little human being. Mixed emotions follow when you are uncertain if you are actually happy or extremely frustrated as everything that is orderly crumbles to dust.

So, as things fell apart, I realized that it was more important to give my wife as much support as I could (not to say that I haven’t thus far). I’m grateful that I was able to land a job that enabled me to work from home. I can’t say that I succeeded 100% when it comes to helping out. It has been a work in progress as we learn from one another and our individual mistakes but on the brighter side of things, it is an experience that has only deepened our relationship as partners and as parents to our lovely angel.

Treats have been the way to go to deal with the constant stress and any unhealthy weight gain is offset by having to run after our baby daughter. Despite all these difficulties, we have had a few occasions to celebrate. Most notably, my first purchase of a car. A Mazda, my very own Razor Crest, that will serve as our family transport as we explore the endless boundaries of the galaxy that unravels in the wake of our daughter’s growth.

Today, I feel very happy to get back on the block and write this post but I can’t be certain as to how “back” I actually am. Fingers crossed that things do settle down over the next few weeks so that I can hit my groove again. If not, that is alright as well, because nothing is more important than family…actually, scratch that, nothing is more important than you, baby Lord Vader.

Here’s to seeing you all again next week, with a new hope, and a new blog post to boot.

Dealing with Change – Redefining the present

Growing up in Madurai, India, I didn’t know much about the outside world beyond my hometown. When I was 10, my family moved to Egypt. We would spend five years there before moving to Sudan. Once I completed my secondary education in Sudan, I would depart to Canada for higher studies. Meanwhile, my family continued to travel around the world to Sierra Leone and UK, before finally returning to India.

The near-nomadic lifestyle my family adopted had its fair share of advantages and disadvantages. On one end, I obtained the best resources available for my education. Experiencing different cultures widened my perspective and helped in my personal growth as a young adult but it was also difficult when I had to confront cultural differences as I became exposed to multiple others.

On the other hand, moving from one place to another was not easy. For every hello, there was a goodbye. I did not like that. Suffice to say, completing my doctoral studies in Edmonton last year, the looming reality of a move to another city was not an exciting prospect.

Having lived in Edmonton for nearly twelve years, I did not want to leave. Newsflash! I had grown to dislike change. Some of my most cherished memories from university, like meeting my best friends and my wife, all happened in Edmonton. All of this made Edmonton, a second home of sorts. So moving, even if it were only three hours away to Calgary, was a difficult pill to swallow.

I wanted to resolve this issue and I found my solution in the most unexpected of sources: my baby daughter. She has the power to induce what I call an oxymoronic reality. In watching her grow and looking after her, she makes me feel that years have gone by when in reality no time has passed at all. Einstein’s relativity can take the backseat when it comes to her. In fact, daily life is a dynamic endeavor with her in the picture and change is the new normal.

Now they say that with age comes a reluctance towards change. Ironically, change is the defining theme to my daughter’s growth. It comes in a multitude of forms like separation anxiety, teething, learning to walk, etc. One way or another, I had to get used to it.

Weirdly enough, when push came to shove, I found myself willing to confront whatever my daughter had to throw at me head-on, without any uncertainty on my part and especially if it meant her happiness and comfort. It is in that spirit I realized, spending the last few months juggling between a one-man unpacking team and father, that change is not harmful. Rather, it helps maintain a healthy relationship between one’s past, present, and future.

Farewells and new beginnings will always be a part of this and I found comfort in knowing that whatever is lost to the past lives on in the present that I get to experience. My past made my present possible.

All this reflection brought me back to a quote/personal motto of mine back in high school, “Cherish the past, live the present, and happily anticipate the future.” Funnily enough, it is only now that I have realized the true meaning behind this statement. Better late than never!

Having now moved to Calgary, there is much to anticipate for the future, not to mention whatever new problem my baby daughter will throw at me and my wife tomorrow. In all of this, I take my misgivings in a positive light and focus on what is most important: the present, where I am now in pursuit of my dreams, growing alongside my baby daughter, and indulging in the changes that will be wonderful memories to cherish in the future.

Observing traditions in a multi-cultural family

Growing up in a Christian family in India meant we had a slightly different schedule of festivals to celebrate throughout the year compared to our neighbors who were predominantly Hindus. That didn’t stop my family from engaging in a few of the Hindu festivals and traditions.

Indian culture is a multifaceted entity with thousands of unique traditions and customs present in the country. A lot of these traditions, while built within a religious foundation (Hinduism), are often interpreted as setting the norm for daily life, especially surrounding family. When my family left India, all the way back in 2001, my parents strived to maintain those traditions at least within the circle of our own religious beliefs. As I grew up, those religious beliefs were molded by my personal experiences in life.

So, there I was in Christmas 2021, singing along to the Gunter Kallmann Choir Christmas playlist while packing up our apartment with the help of my baby daughter. This choir was a favorite of my grandfather’s and the carols brought back nostalgic memories of celebrating Christmas Eve at my grandparents’ home.

Draped over the chair, in the opposite corner of the living room, I recognized the veshti I had worn just a few weeks back when we had celebrated Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights.

One of the most popular festivals in Hinduism, Diwali symbolizes the victory of good over evil, and is celebrated between mid-October and mid-November.

I had cooked a traditional feast for my wife and daughter (who indulged as much as possible for her age) while wishing family and friends to share in our joy, much like we would later do on Christmas Eve.

These celebrations were followed by several others, this time from my wife’s side of the family, who are Japanese. We observe our last meal of Toshikoshi soba on New Year’s Eve,

Toshikoshi soba is a noodle dish eaten on New Year’s Eve, and isa customary practice to let go of the hardships of the year, represented by the soba noodles that are easily cut while eating.

followed by Nanakusa no Sekku or the Festival of Seven Herbs, on January 7th.

Nanakusa no sekku is a custom where one eats seven (nana)-herb rice porridge to ward off evil and celebrate longevity and good health.

A week after that, we would once again come full circle, by celebrating Pongal, a multi-day Hindu harvest festival observed by Tamils in India.

Pongal celebrates the first harvest of the New Year. The festival is named after the ceremonial dish “pongal”, which means to boil or overflow, prepared from the new harvest of rice boiled in milk with jaggery or raw sugar.

What was the point of all of this? Why celebrate so many different festivals of varying origins?

The answer has to do with my struggles to find the best of both worlds in balancing my cultural norms with those of others I grew accustomed to while living in Egypt, Sudan, Sierra Leone, and Canada. Now, as a father, I wished to create a family tradition for my baby daughter that was open-minded, contrasting to the chaotic nature of discussions in the name of religion, while providing a platform honoring and respecting people’s religious choices and faith.

By integrating these different festivals and celebrations, I wish to create an environment that would hopefully allow my daughter to embrace different cultures and respect their traditions, as she grows up. Christmas, beyond the religious stipulations, always represented happy memories with family. It was a period of time when we could all come together, revel in trivial pursuits and games, and just be happy for each other. 

That emotion of familial joy became permanently affixed to many of the other celebrations my parents had observed, outside of our religious circle, in festivals like Diwali and Pongal. Diwali, for me, was just a different kind of Christmas, and Pongal was a different New Year’s celebration. Together, they both meant being with family and being happy. Growing up, I realized that just because my family identified with one religion didn’t necessarily mean I couldn’t embrace or observe the traditions of another faith. To that end, I met a perfect partner in my wife who shared the same opinion.

While we can’t guarantee what our daughter will remember about how we celebrate the holiday season, I’m happy that we have started a dialogue of sorts where she could explore at her own pace the similarities and differences that various faiths have to offer. As she grows older, we will support her desire to explore the world in her own way whether it meant celebrating Hindu festivals, learning the meaning behind Shinto rituals and traditions, or simply lighting up the Christmas tree in the living room.

In the meantime, Christmas 2021 and New Year 2022 provided the perfect ending to our journey in Edmonton (for me and my wife) and the beginning of a new adventure in Calgary. In the years to come, I hope to continue engaging in this open dialogue with my daughter as we observe traditions from both sides of the family.

Through it all, I have one hope for her: that she will one day grow to remember, much like her mother and father, that by embracing something new and different you are not losing yourself but expanding and learning on what you already have.

Two months of surprises, new jobs, new city, and 2022!

The past two months had several surprises in store for me and my wife. It just had to start on a sour note with our baby daughter falling sick early November (right after my previous post).

Cue the domino effect and a month long hiatus from writing.

Much of November involved my wife and I taking our baby girl on multiple visits to the pediatrician. Thankfully, all is well now. We are back to the norm that is constitutive of our family life: trying to keep up with our baby girl who is “cruising” in her intent to explore the world. We are so happy that she made a full recovery. Growing up with our baby girl has been so much fun!

Despite the rough start, November concluded on a high note when I landed a full-time job as a science writer for LabX Media Group. Shortly afterward, my wife obtained an offer to pursue her doctoral studies at the University of Calgary. These developments left us rocking.

With 2022 just around the corner, December has been all the hustle and bustle. I had my onboarding process at LabX, my wife had her doctoral applications to complete, and together, we had our impending move to our new house in Calgary.

With all of this going on, writing and art had to take the backseat. Initially, this was frustrating as I had gotten tired of the whole on and off process. In retrospect, it all worked for the best.

After nearly 12 years in Edmonton, 2022 will be the start of a new chapter in my life in a completely different city (albeit, just 3 hours away from Edmonton). Much more on this in a future post!

Stepping back to see the bigger picture of my journey over all these years was important. Getting a full-time job has also been a huge relief and has provided fresh perspective and motivation for my future dreams and ambitions.

There is much I have to plan for and I can’t wait to get it all started. Big changes are pending for The Pensive Reverie and The Procrastinating Scientist in 2022. Not to mention, I am looking forward to our new house in Calgary, as I get to customize my own office space for art and writing.

Amidst the boxes currently piling up in our living room, and our impending move in two weeks, I will be away from the blog for a few more weeks. Fingers crossed, it will be a smooth transition during winter.

My time away has left a long list of prospective posts on standby, and there is so much I wish to share with all of you like the remodeling of the blog and its appearance, finishing my graphic novel and starting the concept art, and more!

For now, thank you so much for your patience and views on the blog, despite my time away!

Belated Christmas greetings to all and advance wishes on a Happy New Year!