Tag: Life

Graduating as a Parent

More than three years ago, in early 2023, I wrote a post about “What to Do When You Can’t Do Much – Dad Edition”.

Nothing could have prepared me then for the maelstrom of challenges that awaited right around the corner. Now, three years later, so much has changed and so fast. I liken my experience thus far to sailing the stormy seas aboard a rickety boat. From a multitude of health issues to layoffs and personal losses, it has been a vicious cycle of emotional and mental whiplash. But, throughout it all, there has been a steadying presence in my life. The same presence whose company I spoke about in my old post: my daughter.

While I’m still the full-time work-at-home father, my daughter has graduated from being a baby to an actual “kid”. Back in 2023, I described the transformation of designing my life around my child’s needs as a major challenge. A family friend commented then that things would get easier as my daughter gets older, and that I would become nostalgic about these hard times. For a guy running on 4-5 hours of sleep, that statement was neither convincing nor encouraging.

In retrospect, I find myself completely agreeing with it. Becoming a father is the best thing that has ever happened to me. For one, your kid makes you realize how important it is to keep track of your own health. Why? Because that is the only way you can keep up with them. The same applies on the mental front. Kids draw so much from their parents’ emotional and mental energies. In my case, my daughter has become my pillar of motivation. I’ve leaned on her support as much as she continues to lean upon mine.

We are now a few days away from her preschool graduation, and to be honest, it kind of feels like a mini graduation for me as a parent. The last five years of my life have been a roller coaster of lost dreams, career derailments, personal loss, and just about all the chaos one could ask for. I certainly am not where I wanted to be five years ago. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve made progress in areas that I originally thought impossible.

For starters, I’m now working full-time as a freelancer and gradually building a committed career in the creative arts. I’ve become a published science writer and have continued to pitch successfully. I’ve even become more consistent in writing this blog!

In a few more days, I get to graduate from the slight stupor of the last five years and become more productive in my professional ambitions. It is a “productivity” honed and sharpened by the wisdom I have gained as a father, all thanks to my lovely daughter, who also gets to explore a new world of her own. We are both taking small steps towards bigger victories, and while it may seem to be at a slow pace, if there is one thing I have learned, life isn’t always about how fast you reach your goals, but about what you learn along the way.

“Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out.” – Robert Collier

Writer’s Corner – Daydreaming Your Next Story

Ideas are writing’s currency. They are also a dime a dozen. Writers feel considerable pressure to put their best work on paper. For starters, their ideas must be unique and interesting enough to catch the reader’s attention. What follows then is the story, and it has to live up to expectations. Overall, it is a tall task, so it is no wonder many writers feel a sense of dread when they sit down and stare at the muted, blank white page on their desk. Fortunately, I’ve learned to bypass this fear. That very same blank, white page speaks to me of opportunity and an inescapable sense of freedom. Personally, I find writing offers a sense of escapism, and the best ideas appear when you let your mind drift freely. In other words, you learn to master the art of effective daydreaming.

Daydreaming comes naturally to me. Even now, I fondly recall spending my lunch breaks in my high school’s garden. I would lie down on the grass and watch the clouds above, enjoying the silence and solitude. These sessions were also primetime for my creativity. My mind would swim with random thoughts, the initial sparks of ideas that I would incorporate in my stories later. I still daydream to this day. Much like an artist’s sketchbook, I have one of my own filled with one-liners and random thoughts that serve as sparks for stories I formulate later. When I switched to writing as a full-time career, I realized I could make a few tweaks to this daydreaming hobby of mine and better harness it for my creative purposes. 

For starters, I leaned on a little bit of science to help me out. We have all heard the classic line about the need for a writer to read other books and learn more about the world to write their own book or come up with new ideas. There is scientific grounding for this. Reading primes our brain’s Default Mode Network (DMN), the neural autopilot responsible for daydreaming and spontaneous imagination. What we read and take in about the world around us shapes the visual, emotional, and social content of our daydreams. Essentially, reading fuels our subconscious, but that is not all there is to it. How we read also makes a difference. Silent reading leans on our visual cortex to decode words. This means there is less room for our brains to wander. On the other hand, audiobooks don’t care about our visual channel. This allows the brain’s DMN to drift and generate daydreams much more frequently, causing you to zone out of the narrative and sink into your thoughts. 

So, how do we leverage this? Since reading fuels our subconscious, it helps to take frequent pauses. Stopping to reflect on what we are reading, like the sensory details, character motives, or underlying themes, allows our minds to actively construct the story’s world, rather than push the narrative forward. In this manner, we get to experience and deeply immerse ourselves in what we are reading. These pauses also help trigger your DMN and transfer what you have read from short-term to long-term memory. Contrary to belief, the whole process prevents cognitive overload. Throughout, we remain engaged with what we read. Similarly, by switching up what we read, we can also prevent our daydreams from becoming repetitive and diversify our ideas. Using this combination of neural simulation and schema activation, where we experience what we read and activate our working memory (cause the reading mind tends to remember things, no matter how small the detail), we continuously fuel our subconscious. 

When our minds drift, the intake becomes real estate in the form of mental models or schemas that later serve as the foundations of the thoughts and ideas that populate our daydreams. To get to this point, we have to begin by slowing down, and that’s a major no-no in a day and age when everything moves at breakneck speeds. My success in this aspect came from natural circumstances. Once you become a parent, you don’t have as much time for things you love as you did before. Similarly, when you do get the time, you are too tired to make the same level of progress. So, you’ve got to adopt the turtle strategy. Small and slower, but consistent, bites towards greater goals. I applied this approach to my reading (audio and visual), writing, and social media intake. Obviously, when you have a kid, much of what you read or watch also follows their preferences. For the last few years, my daydreams have largely focused on ideas for children’s stories, fairy tales, and fantasy. Recently, I have switched things up and started gradually getting back into my favorite genre: science fiction, and right on cue, I have enjoyed my latest palette of dreams about apocalyptic scenarios and hard sci-fi survival horrors.

So, for writers who are struggling to find ideas for their stories, I suggest setting that pen aside and letting your mind unwind. Take some time during the day and daydream. It may not feel like it, but you are still making those writing milestones by letting your mind drift. Support your mind’s supposed “procrastination” by tailoring your cognitive intake of the world around you to match your writing needs. This can be through books, newspapers, podcasts, TV, etc. The only disclaimer I place here is to be mindful of your intake and not let it slip into overindulgence that pulls you away from the actual writing. Oh, and have a writing journal! You’ll never know when those random ideas and scribbles come together to make the perfect story! 

Take it from the legendary Poe,

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

What It Means to Live – Hirayasumi – Manga Review

I’m a glutton for slice-of-life manga, and Keigo Shinzo’s Hirayasumi now ranks amongst my favorites in this genre.

A quick disclaimer: the manga is not yet complete, and I have only read the first seven volumes.

So, let’s get straight to the meat of it. What does “hirayasumi” mean? The word is actually a portmanteau of two Japanese words: hiraya, which means a single-story house, and yasumi, which means rest or break. The title of the series is, in fact, a literal reflection of the story’s main ethos, which is all about living a slow, peaceful, and carefree life. Our main characters, Hiroto and Natsumi, are cousins who live together in this cozy one-story home.

Hiroto inherits the house from Hanae Wada, an 81-year-old woman with whom he becomes acquainted and whom he affectionately calls “Granny.” The logic of an old woman giving away her inheritance for an acquaintance doesn’t make sense, and is the bait that drives you into Hiroto’s daily life. Within the walls of this one-story home, we get to indulge in Hiroto’s day-to-day exploits alongside his cousin, the people they befriend, and the unique circumstances that shape their lives.

Peppered throughout the story are flashbacks that capture Hiroto’s time with Wada and help inspire him to move forward with his life.

Besides Hiroto and Natsumi, there is an engaging cast of characters that Shinzo weaves into the story, each with their unique backstory and take on life. Despite their individual differences and personalities, the cast of Hirayasumi is connected by their insecurities. Each character’s story is riddled with subtle insecurities that shape their decisions and misadventures. These insecurities illustrate their alienation from life, a reality expressed through questions like, “Where am I going with my life?”

This is a common feature of the slice-of-life genre, but Hirayasumi provides a uniquely breathtaking and bittersweet experience as we immerse ourselves in the lives of these characters.

Behind Hiroto’s cheerful countenance, there is a deep sense of remorse and nostalgia for dreams and ambitions that he ultimately couldn’t live up to. In contrast, Hiroto’s cousin, Natsumi, endures the daily frustrations that accompany the pursuit of one’s dreams and expectations.

Similarly, with the other characters we meet in Hirayasumi, there are diverse worlds to explore, all centered on the fragility and, by consequence, the beauty of life: its uncertainty. The manga’s art style complements the characters’ ordinary yet raw and genuine emotions. For my part, I related most to Hiroto’s remorse over an unfulfilled dream and Natsumi’s frustrations as a creative trying to establish her future. Hiroto’s struggle to find closure and Natsumi’s efforts to cultivate her own path truly struck a chord in my heart.

Writing, especially in recent times, is a career filled with uncertainty, and there are days I find myself questioning my own resolve and drive. Hirayasumi has much of that emotion and more. There is also a point to be made about how the main characters fall back on their relationships to anchor their resolve. Friends, family, and connections can take us a long way and help resolve our personal insecurities and misgivings in the most unexpected ways.

Most importantly, to the extent I have read so far, the manga emphasizes the importance of being willing to take a shot at your dreams. Every chapter offers the reader something memorable for contemplation, be it the nostalgia of younger days gone by or the simple pleasures of life we often miss. Much like how Winnie-the-Pooh says, “Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering,” Hirayasumi reiterates, “Don’t pointless things have a place, too, in this far-from-perfect world?”

In today’s fast-paced world, where we all face the pressures of living up to the judgments and stereotypes that proliferate in society, Hirayasumi reminds us that sometimes, taking a step back, enjoying the moment, even when it means simply “doing nothing”, holds genuine value.

With an upcoming anime adaptation set to premiere in January 2027, Hirayasumi is a gem of a manga by Keigo Shinzo, and I highly recommend it for all you slice-of-life savants out there. A live-action adaptation is also available on Prime Video, covering content up to the first 6 volumes of the manga.

Hitting the Arcade

There is a lot you have to put up with when you become a father. Apart from the “old” commentary, your joints handing in their warranties (this could apply to the post-30s in general), and a lack of adequate sleep, there is also the reality of becoming slower.

That last point couldn’t have been more on the nose than when I hit the arcade with my 5-year-old daughter. This was her first visit, and it started off great. I was feeling all the emotions a father would have, reliving his childhood at the arcade. This time around, I was experiencing it all from my daughter’s perspective. The bright and colorful lights, the loud noises, the assortment of toys, what more could a kid ask for? Here was an occasion where I could have some quality father-daughter time while my wife could relish the peace and tranquility of shopping by herself (after nearly four years of “family” shopping).

The last time I set foot in an arcade was in the late 90s. There was a single, solitary store in my hometown. Admission was not cheap back then, but thanks to my strong performance at school, my father felt I deserved a treat. The hour or so I spent there is a gem of a memory. Coin tokens were a sweet memento of the 90s arcades. The idea of having to win coins to play more, and just the feel of it all, was pure awesomeness. Unlike today, when there are filters on the games that populate an arcade, the 90s had some questionable choices. My personal favorites were: Street Fighter and, of course, Mortal Kombat.

Neither of which I would allow my daughter play at her age.

So, entering the arcade now in the 2020s, I felt a little like a man out of time. Coins weren’t the favored currency. We now just had to load up a card with money. You win coupons and tickets that are automatically synced to your card, which you can then exchange for goodies. That last part was something I didn’t know, and I spent five minutes walking around the arcade machine and looking for an opening where the tickets fell through.

The selection of games at the arcade we hit up was much friendlier and more well-rounded for the 5-10-year-old age group. My daughter’s favorites were anything that involved claw machines. She was also damn good at it, far more than I ever was. I was very happy for her as we walked around with a generous collection of toys and plushies she had won from these machines. That happiness eventually turned to dread with the lesson I soon received.

It was a “I have tasted my own medicine, and it is bitter” scenario. I don’t consider myself too competitive when it comes to video games, but I apparently have a sadistic personality (according to my wife) and get the greatest pleasure in rubbing it in on my opponents through trash talk. Now, that side of me never popped up with my daughter. Even on my wife’s suggestion to try out a racing simulator, I was going to go easy on her. After all, seeing your child win and be happy is the best. Right? RIGHT?

Well, it is, until she whoops your ass, wipes the floor with you, and turns the sass on. The racing simulator was nothing too special, and the controls were simple enough. You had the steering wheel, the ignition, the nitrous button, the pedals, and whatnot. Once the race actually began, it was like I was facing a mirror reflection of myself. Never have I heard my daughter laugh as maniacally as she did, killing me on the track. Forget about going easy; I had to get serious. Annnddd, I still lost. Somehow, my daughter had, within minutes, perfected a technique that had taken me a lifetime: smash all the buttons at once.

The worst part of it all was getting it thrown back at me.

“Haha, Appa, you lost. You are too slow.”

Sigh. Anyways, lesson learned. Being humble can take you far in life. I graciously accepted my defeat. My wife, of course, couldn’t help but rub it in. It was well-deserved. All in all, though, I had a blast. It IS awesome to see your child be better than you in things, and it feels great…

The Homes That Have Defined Me

Until recently, I have always struggled to answer the question, “Where is home?” The answer I found isn’t anything special. There is a good chance you can actually find it at your neighborhood’s home décor store, plastered across a wall hanging, “Home is where the family is. ” 

Now, to be a little more specific, that puts us in Calgary, Alberta. For someone who has spent much of his life moving from one place to another, my hope is that Calgary will become a permanent settlement, in terms of longitude and latitude.

This doesn’t take away the valuable lessons I have learned living a life in transit. It has taught me that nothing is permanent, that every beginning has an end, and most importantly, that change is natural. Knowing and literally living these statements finds me grateful for the opportunities I have been given, the wonderful people I have met along the way, and the experiences I have had thus far in my life.

The journey came with its share of good and bad, but I’m thinking I will lean more on the good side of things for today. 2026 is a year of commitment, and it sees me embark on a lifelong dream: becoming a full-time writer. The Pensive Reverie has been all about sharing this journey with my readers, so I felt it was right to share a little more about this up-and-coming author’s origins.

As in most stories, this calls for a flashback that demonstrates the why behind our hero’s journey and what has led him to where he is now. If you haven’t caught on, that mildly unimpressive hero with wildly elaborate dreams is yours truly. The flashback concerns the different homes that defined my personal growth and continue to inspire my writing.

Our journey begins in Madurai, India.

The city of temples is where I grew up. Today, it is a time capsule of sorts. A few years back, when I returned to India (after nearly six years away), I had to accept that the Madurai I knew was long gone. It is now a core memory of my childhood. Back then, I was in my element and at home. I got a whole lot of love from my grandparents, who lived practically next door to us. My grandfather introduced me to the concept of faith and religion, while my parents served as a reference point to my culture. I took in everything without question. The world was small, and I felt secure about who I was and wanted to be, until the land of the pharaohs stole me away.

My family moved to Cairo, Egypt, in the early 2000s. The bubble that represented my worldview till that point fell apart. Here was a beautiful city with such a rich history. There was so much to learn, so much to see, just so much of a lot. I discovered the World Wide Web, and I also got to knock heads with racism. Here, in the land of the pyramids, I learned a new language, was introduced to a very different culture and religion, and just about everything that wasn’t India. I also began to question who I could be and where I could go. I never really thought much about it, but looking back now, the seeds of change had begun to take root in my psyche and worldview. Eventually, my journey with the pharaohs pushed me further into the desert.

My family moved to Khartoum, Sudan, where I would see off my high school days. My tangle with racism still hung over me like a cloud. I was depressed and unsure of myself. Thankfully, the winds of the desert helped me dispose of these feelings. During my time in Sudan, I fully recognized the dilemma of my identity, lost and floundering between the cultures I grew up with and the one I was born into. I mused about the future and wondered how my family and loved ones would receive the differences in perspective I had begun to harbor about myself and the person I was becoming. To resolve this issue, I embarked on a journey across the oceans to Edmonton, Canada.

What followed was the rollercoaster ride of university life. There, in that battleground, I confronted my personal insecurities and settled an identity crisis spanning several years of my life. I discovered the expectations I had set on myself and those that had been set upon me, and in that process, I found myself and someone else who believed in me. Now, I’m married to that someone and have a family of my own.

Which brings us back to where I am now in Calgary. As for all those homes of my past, they exist as a well of inspiration for me to continue my journey of personal growth. The places I left behind over the years have changed, and I can never go back to how things used to be, making those memories all the more special.

Amidst all these years of transition, my love for writing has remained the one constant. It is now my safehouse and the place where I’m happiest when I’m by myself. I love being immersed in the worlds of my imagination, and now I’m finally taking the steps to bring them closer to reality so I can share them with everyone.

They say that sometimes the journey can be the destination, and it certainly has been for me. Where the road leads next, I will have to wait and see!

The Importance of Making Time

Life has a habit of getting incredibly busy, especially as a parent. Expectations must be met when you have a sassy little four-year-old to look after. We are in the first week of a new year, and I’m already swamped trying to keep up with an ever-growing list of ambitious tasks. Ironically, the seeming lack of time has also helped me understand something even more important.

When the reality of a full-time career in writing settled in my mind, it also knocked a few screws loose. I felt compelled to meet a daily writing quota, and that was probably the worst thing to do. I have always been amazed by those who register for and successfully complete NaNoWriMo and other write-a-thons. Consistency is the secret ingredient behind a creative’s success, but I learned early on that my approach didn’t pass the popular vote.

It was a lesson delivered by the very real circumstances of my life. I never expected the rollercoaster ride that followed after I wrapped up my academic career in 2021. I have worn many hats since then as a sleep-deprived father, a passionate workaholic, a supportive husband, and a frustrated creative who just couldn’t put pen to paper. Barring the occasional post, I was isolated from my writing projects for nearly four years, and, to be honest, it was probably the best thing that could have happened to me.

A career bordering on a passion can sometimes lack healthy boundaries. I had lofty ambitions, just like every other aspiring writer, but I was also incoherent. Sometimes it is good to let your writing stew a bit.

Good cooking takes time. If you are made to wait, it is to serve you better, and to ensure that you are served a meal fit for a king. 

In my case, it wasn’t just what I wrote (or cooked), but my entire creative process (or kitchen). My stew (or curry) has been four years in the making, and it led me to realize the secret ingredient behind my creative process: making time for the things I love.

I couldn’t write, but I could still imagine, and much like an artist’s sketchbook, I now have a compendium of ideas for projects that I have outlined over the last four years. This new-age wave of imagination was the result of giving myself some slack, taking things a little more slowly, and learning to enjoy the small moments. It meant spending time with my daughter. It meant helping my wife recover when she was at her worst. It meant dropping surprises for my family. Most importantly, it meant enjoying the moment for what it is.

Life is too short not to have some fun. To love yesterday, I needed to live today to the fullest, without regrets, so I could live tomorrow with the same feeling. Waltzing into 2026, I have found greater clarity towards my goals and personal ambitions, including completing my graphic novel and pursuing traditional publishing. For more than four years, I have been writing the script for a graphic novel, and this year, I will complete it. But that isn’t all. I am now ready to dive into the deep end and take a shot at the traditional publishing industry. A few projects are in the queue, and I hope to share all that I have learned and continue to learn on the path toward becoming a traditionally published author.

As to when I will actually make it onto the podium of winners, I have no clue. The podium isn’t the end goal either. I just want to write and bring my stories to life. Hey, there is something incredible about believing in the beauty of our dreams, no matter how small or how great. That being said, I hope everyone is having a great start to their 2026! I will see you all next week with another story to share!

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.

Building a Legacy – Farewell, Akira Toriyama Sensei

Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened. – Dr. Seuss

There are a few individuals I consider my heroes and role models. Foremost among them is my grandfather. The very manner of his passing dealt a big blow to everyone in my family and left an everlasting impact on my life. His death forced me to understand the reality of time and come to terms with what is a natural aspect of life. From my struggles to my greatest triumphs, my grandfather remains an inspiration in everything I do. His legacy is the deeply cherished memories we shaerd in our time together.

I can say much of the same with regards to the works of Toriyama sensei, and in particular, the Dragon Ball franchise. I didn’t grow up with the franchise as many others did. In fact, it all started with Dragon Ball Z, the official sequel to the original Dragon Ball. I was in Singapore at the time, on a family trip with my parents and my sister. My parents were eager to take us out shopping and touring but I wasn’t having any of it.

No, I was too busy hooked onto the TV watching an incredibly buff guy, with crazy hair, falling off what looked like a gigantic snake supported by clouds, and into hell. Amazingly enough, he would pat off the damage from his fall as if it were nothing, and then proceed immediately to fly straight back up to the clouds willling himself to find a way back onto the path.

And that is all I would remember about this character for some time. My parents dragged me out of the room and took us out for the day. A few years later, I would reunite with this character again at my friend’s home while playing Dragon Ball Z: Budokai on his PlayStation 2 (incidentally, also my first PlayStation 2 game ever). I was hooked and would soon get fully immersed and acquainted with the world of Dragon Ball Z and its diverse array of characters.

The series’ protagonist Son Goku was (and remains) my favorite. Goku’s ability to overcome seemingly insurmountable challanges, his enduring willpower, his undying love for friends and family, as well as his healthy appetite and joyful approach to life (a major shonen trope these days, after all, Toriyama pioneered the modern shonen manga) made it look like he had it all. For a teenager like me who was experiencing racism and segregation at school, and with barely any friends to relate to, Goku was a hero. I wanted to be just like him. I wanted to be courageous enough to accept my weaknesses and strong enough to overcome them.

Now, looking back, I can proudly say I accomplished exactly that. From overcoming my personal inhibitions to putting 100% towards my goals, I am a confident individual happily pursuing my dreams. Most importantly, through Goku, I learned the lessson of humility and to acknoweldge those who have supported and encouraged me in my journey. A quick call out to Master Roshi, I have also done my best to work hard, eat well, and sleep well, too! (Though, it has been a little more difficult, recently, with a hyperactive toddler!)

It is funny what invisible strings connect us all. I still remember those days, lying on my bed, lost in my imagination, in scenarios where I’m saving the world or facing my demons, while imitating Goku’s signature Kamahameha. Those moments are now cherished memories. Berserk’s Kentaro Miura, Yugioh’s Kazuki Takahashi, and now, Dragon Ball’s Akira Toriyama. It truly feels like the end of an era. Toriyama sensei, you have left behind a monumental legacy. Dragon Ball was my initiation into the worlds you created. Thank you for everything you did to bring your characters to life and to share their stories, as well as yours, in what has been an inspirational journey.

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?