In the Toronto Airport

In the Toronto airport, while waiting for my flight back home, I struck up a conversation with an Indian man in his 60s. He was on his way back to Calgary from India. Excited by this, I told him that I too was coming home from India. I casually asked him what he was doing in India. He told me he was in Amritsar (Punjab) with his wife because his niece was getting married. He had to come back earlier for work (he runs his own pharmacy), but his wife was staying a few weeks longer.
My family loves her, she is the eldest so everyone listens to her. She is very loving and giving.” He smiled with joy after the comment. I gave a little smirk.
“How about you? Why were you in India? Getting married?” Insert awkward laugh from me.
Then, and I don’t know why, I lied.
I told him that I actually was going to move to India for work, but that I am in love with a woman in Vancouver and that I am going back to ask her to marry me. A romantic lie yes, however what he told me next was a little crazy.
“Sounds familiar,” he said.
“Oh really? You know someone?”
“Me,” he said.
Honestly, I was not prepared for that answer. He told me that many years ago he went chasing after a young lady in Vancouver. She was white. He told me that after he finished school his family thought it best for him to come to Canada because of the better opportunity at the time.
“It was the ‘70s, so basically the thinking was I would make more money and help the rest of the family,” he told me -- which is a very common story of that time.
So he came to Canada to become a pharmacist and that’s where they met.
“Her name was Michelle, Michelle LeClair.” He went on: “Her family was originally from Quebec, but her parents moved to Calgary.” Her father worked in oil.
They met during school orientation. “She thought my accent was funny; I told her it was attractive,” he joked.
Slowly and secretly they started to see each other and fell in love. “Like all young people do,” he grinned. Trust me this guy was like an old Indian Paul Newman or how I would envision an old Indian Paul Newman to be.
They dated for almost two years and then midway through university she switched schools and moved to Vancouver -- something about UBC being better for her career.
Of course, he was heartbroken.
Of course, I was sitting next to this man thinking about how my lie got him telling me his love story, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was supposed to hear it.
“That summer I felt like I was in one of those Bollywood love stories, very sad, and listening to sad Bollywood songs,” he said.
“What did you do?” I asked, like a five-year-old.
“I jumped on a bus and went to Vancouver!”
The scene started to form in my head. I could see this handsome Indian man sitting on a bus with a flannel shirt and bell bottoms while Love Somebody by the Bee Gees played in the background.
“I went to the UBC and started looking for her. I had not seen her in months so I was very excited! Finally I see her in the cafeteria.”
My heart was screaming about this romantic movie moment.
Then he said: “I go to her and she is surprised to see me but very happy, and in that moment I don’t know what came over me, but I ask her to marry me.”
“Young love can make us crazy!” he added. I was sitting at the edge of my seat waiting for him to finish.
“We walked outside and talked and she said that we couldn’t get married because we are from different cultures and her parents would never accept me and that it was best if I go back to Calgary.”
Crushed.
Here I was starting to think that his wife in India is a woman named Michelle. That two people could look past what makes them different and saw how similar they were. That they fell in love and that’s all that mattered.
But no. He jumped back on a bus the next day and came back to Calgary, heartbroken. He told me he finished school, went back to India, got married to his wife Kiran, had kids, and lives a very wonderful life.
“So I hope she says yes to you,” he joked, while I laughed awkwardly, feeling bad that I lied and feeling bad that there was no happy ending.
“So tell me her na—“
“That’s such a sad story!”
Yes he did ask her name, and yes I did talk over him.
“Not entirely,” he said, “I wouldn’t have met my wife if she would have said yes.”
I gave him a half-hearted smile and after a few silent moments he told me what I think is the best part of the story.
“About two years ago, I went to a wedding in Vancouver. A friend’s son was getting married to a white girl... And guess who her mother was?”
“Michelle?” I sounded like a teenage girl.
He nodded yes and my heart exploded. He told me that he went up to her, spoke to her and asked her about life. She said that she finished school and became a teacher, met a very good man and had three kids; her daughter who was getting married was the middle child. After a little more banter he finally asked her: “How did you let her daughter marry an Indian?”
She told him that one day there was a knock at her door, and when she opened the door she saw a young Indian man standing there.
“But all I could see was you,” she told him.
The boy had come to ask for her daughter’s hand in marriage.
“She told me that she never met him before because her daughter thought her husband and her would not approve, and her daughter ended the relationship months before. She believed it wouldn’t work because they have different backgrounds.”
He went on: “She said that when he asked her all she could say was yes, because she wanted her daughter to be happy with whomever she chose to be with.”
He was very happy to hear that and he told me that as she was about to leave, she turned to him and told him that although her husband was a wonderful man, he was too. He grinned at me and my heart went wild!
After a few pleasantries Sagar left to catch his flight.
I sat there thinking about what I just heard. Ideas like the laws of Karma and lessons we must learn kept going through my head. I thought that Sagar loved Michelle, but their love story was a lesson for Michelle, who thought that they couldn’t work; that you have to try and give your all in love, because our failures in love can be our or someone else’s lesson; that all stories of love, no matter what ending they may seem to have, will give birth to other love stories, and because of that there will always be a happy ending in our future.
But most of all I thought I gotta get back to Vancouver to marry a woman. ;)

I gotta Quote for yeah!

When you put up a Quote do you actually read it?
Do you let the words resonate in your heart?
Or do you read it because it sounds good?
Does anyone every notice that quotes contradict each other?
You will read ones about Unconditional Love and the next day you will read one about how if someone doesn't treat you right then they don't deserve you.
It makes sense to me. Words that speak to you are words to live by.
But are you living by them?
Did you wake up today and love unconditional?
Did you look in the mirror and tell yourself I am someone important?
Did you finally and I mean FINALLY tell someone what you always wanted to say, because if you never saw them again at least they would know how you feel about them.
After all
You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough (May West)
I don't dislike Quotes, I love words, but only if I really need to say them, use them.
Words like actions need a reason.
So when you put up your next Facebook/Twitter quote or write it down on your vision board/Journal/wall etc. ( I do all of this)
Maybe ask yourself
When I am in bliss will these words come to mind?
IF I drink from sorrow will these lines be the food to my soul?
When I look upon a loved one does "IT" click?
I could end with a Quote but I would be happier if you read what I wrote
And you can Quote me on that. :)

Moments form a book never Published part 2

I am lost in space...
Ok maybe I am not.
I am in fact exactly where I need to be drifting in space a soon to be extinguish star. When I was a human I never thought that even a star would have consciousness, then again as a human I thought animals and plants where inferior to me.
My shine is slowly fading, particles that once made up me are now drifting into space.
Pieces of me fall into other stars, suns, planets..galaxies .................cosmos.
Well I forget again? Well again at the last moment of physical life will everything comeback to me? Living it seems in any form becomes so important to any being.
I am a falling God. A blue being. In some solar systems I am worshipped as a God, in others I am nothing, but my energy belongs to every form, particles or molecule that I have come into contact with. For in these last moments I understand that I am the all.
Soon I will slip into the next unknown more enlightened that I was before.
A man is standing in a ocean, the sun shining brightly down upon him and angel comes running splashing next to him...it seems like eons ago.
I have burned so bright for millions of years, but time is no longer linear.
I live in die and the same time. Letting go and living in the moment that is what becomes of us all. I can feel the shift my existence here slowly ends on to new beginnings

" Daddy I want know about that star?"
" My lovely we will learn as many as we can, in fact we will start with the most important one. You."
"Hehe, you're silly Daddy."

I Dance so hard that...

Sometimes I Dance so hard I give myslef and orgasm. That Climax and Pure Bliss you feel happening while your fulling being your Cosmic Self. GOOOOOOOOOOOD!
I love to Dance. Fuck it, I wish at times My wife would be a dance floor I loving dancing so much. I feel so much like a Man. Doing this Ethereal Mating Dance.
Each part of my body contracts and reacts and sends this Pharmonal Energy attracting Goddesses to take part in my Physical Symphony. If not for a lifetime, for one dance. To pull her close, to have her Shakti surround you and complete you.
To smell, to Touch, to TASTE!
No words.
Let my eyes, hands and hips do all the dictation.
When she is not near I Dance for her anywhere. In rooms, on the bustop, walking down the street with my hip Hop. In dance there is all, our bodies decribe it all.
Love. Dance. Made for Romance.
We allow our bodies to come play, there is a reason we have the phrase " We Danced the Night away."

I Can't Believe I EVER dated you.

"I Can't believe I ever dated him."

This, is what I over heard on the Skytrain the other day on my way to work. Immersed in The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut, this one little sentence manage to pull me out of some great fiction. I continued to listen as the Woman went on to list all the things this man "she was to good for" lacked.
This list was very extensive.
Still it got me thinking and I came to the realization that I have had many people in my life, including myself, use this line or some variation of it.
"I can't believe I dated her/where friends/where together?" You can add the ever popular "what was I thinking?" to the mix.
I had to understand why I would ever open my mouth and say any of these silly lines. It was time for me to take responsibility. I have said to many of my friends, and mentioned it a few times in my Blog that the world is a reflection of you. You are at the very lest a Co-create on this wonderful journey you have chosen, so you must honor your choices. Take a moment and think about all of your relationships regardless of whatever state they are in. Now accept to yourself that you have made these choices, all of them, and BELIEVE in them. Now some people may say, wait I didn't choice to be given up on, or used, or cheated on, or any other negative situation or circumstance you can think of. However in some weird way you did. You needed to learn. You had to grow. These people that we end up becoming "to good for" in essence are very much us. IF you sit and think about you and who you were 5 or 10 years ago you will clearly be different and if you go " I can't believe.. blah blah blah" Shut your mouth and respect yourself. Believe you have grown and Believe where that growth came from. These lovely people that you became "to good for" did nothing that you can not over come. Don't let fear and hate stop you. When you list there short comings remember that some of the qualities exist in you or did at one point in time.
And if by chance you are the one who let someone down, broke a heart, took someone for granted. Accept your choices and thank you for hurting someone, thank you for hurting yourself. Those people were and are the great aspects of you, that you were not ready for. So you hurt yourself by hurting them. I personally forgive anyone who has done this to me and ask for forgiveness if I have done any harm to anyone.
We all are good enough and can all become better. And for those still looking for there great soul mate or love to complete them (which is entirely different blog) I say, The best relationships you can have is with yourself first and when you love you. The world will say to you in many voices or in one. I love you too. Now that is something you should Believe.

All I do is Party?

As I walked down Granville Street last night completely sober and foolishly acting all high and mighty.
I started to think about Drugs. I looked around at the Men and Women or Boys and Girls. I mean Reaaally looked at them. Some of them where clearly smashed out of there minds. I saw a very many girls either sitting on a bench or leaning on a lamp post drinking water trying to keep there shit together(so many dresses ruined). Men or Boys with that dear in head lights look, and lets not forget the Men who become the incredible Hulk when they drink. Then there are all the lovers new and old holding on to each other. The Boys with that look of, "I'm so going to get laid tonight" The Girls thinkin," I hope he likes me, or I really just wanna eat my pizza and go to bed"

As I walk to the Roxy (your read correctly) looking around I almost made the mistake of thinking I was better then everyone. Then I told my Ego to Shut the hell up.
Again I started to think about Drugs, Alcohol being the main one, and I realized that everyone around me is being exactly who they really are... in a way.

When I first started drinking I was told you drink to loosen up, to grow some balls to hit on that women that your Ego says is out of your league. To have Fun!!
However, it has become more apparent to me that we take Drugs such as Alcohol, Cannabis, Mushrooms, MDMA, DMT not to have fun but to shut down our Ego.
That voice that says you can't do that, or She/He is to good for you, that's not you, and basically anything else you say to yourself to hold yourself back.
Of course because we live in an Age of Abundance. Everything is Accessible and we over do it. We depend on these gifts from the earth and begin to hinder our own gifts within us. Yup, came to the realization on Granville St.
I'm not going to be silly and say don't do Drugs etc, but I will say you must learn to honor yourself. Yes maybe you need to over do it to learn, but respect yourself and learn. If you do drink or take drugs understand it only enhances what you already have. It's not the 12 shots or pills or joint or anything that made you have fun last night. It was you. You pushed through your Ego and found your true essence, but that awesome You already lives inside you. You don't need to be drugged up all the time to find yourself or take copious amounts of anything to be you. IF you think everyone does it and you should to. Well, everyone does it because you do. (think about it)
Also any Drug (Medicine) that comes from the Earth has far more power then we allow ourselves to believe. They are not simply for Fun. You should learn to honor them because they can teach you how to be Awesome all the time. Without reaching for that extra drink. So the next time you are out and you feel really good let yourself be in that moment don't push it. Ask yourself is this Me? Believe me I have partied, in many cases in life I am the Party, but the greatest nights of my life I remember.
Learn. Live. Love.