Valentine's Day and One Billion Rising

Valentine's Day was about a week ago and I can't help but reflect on this interesting holiday.  It is one that people either love or hate or plain feel indifferent about. It's commercialized, but what holiday isn't? I mean isn't every major holiday, from Christmas-to Halloween- to Easter a huge payday for some corporation?

YEA, FIGHT THE POWER...but can we also fight self-righteousness?

Even knowing that, I was never actually cynical about the holiday. As a 28 year old in the Bay Area, I feel like the cool thing to do is scoff at everything Valentine's related. But I actually enjoy the day, whether I'm single or not. As a kid I loved getting all those cards at elementary school parties. I would snip out the cartoon characters for self made art projects. Yet the best part of all of that was the CANDY, more specifically the CHOCOLATE. My love for chocolate, especially for chocolate on Valentine's day increased exponentially with time. When I got to college, my love for chocolate became a self-proclaimed holiday. My college friends would recall that I called Valentines Day "Chocolate Overdose Day" (C.O.D for short). I loooved Chocolate Overdose Day (almost as much as I loved Doughnut Day). Since I spent most of my college life (and most of my life overall) single, I would grab my single buddies, give them chocolate, ignore the canoodling couples, and go out to dinner. It was amazing. The more my friends learned of Chocolate Overdose Day, the more chocolate I got. I got macaroons, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies that were dyed red for the holiday (thanks Arshad!) and one time my friend swiped me into the college dining hall in the middle of a blizzard just so I could eat ALL the chocolate they had out for their theme dinner. I stalked chocolate fountains, I ripped into Godiva boxes, I became a chocolate bandit that jacked candy from free student events. Epic chocolate WIN ya'll, that's what Valentines Day meant to me.

dude, this guy is real...so random...

But things change, as they tend to do, and I have been in a relationship for almost 4 years now. That means that I've actually had a Valentine and celebrated it as so. It is nice to share the holiday that is supposedly for lovers with a romantic partner, especially since it's sort of a novel experience for me to share it that way.

But Valentines Day changed yet again for me a few years ago. It changed for me when I became a part of Yoni Ki Baat (YKB), the South Asian Vagina monologues. I blogged about my experiences with the show before, and how special it was for me. I worked as a domestic violence advocate at a non-profit that works with South Asian women prior to moving to California and since then, women's issues,  particularly issues relating to violence against women have held a very heavy place in my heart. YKB really introduced me to the world of the Vagina Monologues and the amazing works and efforts of Eve Ensler. This show was a way to express our thoughts, our sufferings, our voices as women through poems, monologues and shows. It was a way to unite women and girls and express ourselves to a larger audience who came to hear our voices. So I was very excited to find out about V Day, a global activist movement to end violence against women and girls that was started by Eve Ensler. I really appreciate it's placement of Valentines day, as it juxtaposes a day meant to celebrate love with a day of remembrance for those who have been violated, abused and killed in acts that occur in the absence of love.

So this Valentine's Day, I joined in V-Day's One Billion Rising movement in Oakland's City Hall. One billion Rising was an international gathering of people in honor of V-Day. According to their website "On February 14, 2013, a one-day event was held, a call for one billion women around the world to join together to dance in a show of collective strength" and was held on the 15th anniversary of the V-Day movement. I came to the city hall grounds alone, not sure what to expect. I saw a sea of red, a sea of men, women and children who had all comes to join in on this campaign. And I danced. Yea I had no idea what I was doing, supposedly there was a Youtube video put out by the organization on how to do the dance (I totally missed the memo). Regardless I danced on the steps of Oakland City hall. But this is the weird thing. As I was dancing, I suddenly became overwhelmed with emotion. If anything, I think public dancing is silly, so where the hell was all the emotion coming from? Maybe it, was the song, which was pretty uplifting. Or the video I saw earlier that day of female inmates dancing with One Billion Rising volunteers at an SF prison. I couldn't forget how happy they were to do a simple dance together ( Bureau of justice statistics have shown that nearly 6 in 10 women in prison have suffered physical or sexual abuse in the past).

    Seriously, take out 3:48 minutes of your day to watch this video, it'll make your face leak

Maybe it was just all of us women just throwing our hands in the air, dancing in unison as an enthusiastic crowd cheered us on and took pictures. I'm sure there's a super awkward video of doing the wrong dance moves out there somewhere. In that moment, all of the work I have done regarding violence against women just came rolling onto me. All of the stories and tears I heard firsthand from being a domestic violence counselor, the pain I saw in my own home, the stories I read every day of rape, and violence and gang rapes and women not getting paid enough and our reproductive rights being stomped on and abortion rights being chipped away and legitimate rape and birth control control being an issue because old white men say no, ALL of that just caught up with me...and for a few moments I really though I was going to start bawling hysterically in front of all these people. I didn't want to be a buzzkill, I also didn't want my blubbering face to go viral on Youtube, so I just held it in. The point is, I never thought that something as a simple as a 3-4 minute dance with a group of strangers in red could be so powerful, but it was.

               OHMIGOD, I JUST found the video of me awkwardly dancing!! HAHAHA You can see me to the right side dancing at the top of the steps. I'm the one wearing a black and white striped dress dancing totally out of sync with everyone else

Later, my boyfriend joined in and watched other dancers who joined the show for V-Day. they were wonderful and talented, and it felt amazing to be with him to experience this on Valentines day.

Later on, the bf and I did end up getting dinner at an amazing place called Pizzaiolo, where I ate myself silly and yes...had an amazing chocolate mousse.

I bring up the dinner and my boyfriend because V-Day also makes me realize how lucky I am to have a partner who is not violent in any form. One who loves and respects me and lets me buy as much dessert and port wine as I want on Valentines day without complaining. One who uplifts me and loves that I am an empowered woman. But most of all, I am grateful that he actually joined me at the One Billion Rising event because I asked him to come. I am glad that my partner in love supports an end to violence against women ( and men), and I couldn't ask for a better Valentine's Day than that.

Activism, love, remembrance and coal oven pizza...my idea of a great V-Day and Valentine's Day

Remembering Travis

Travis with his aunt Jenny (I never had the chance to take a photo with him)

This past Friday night, I was casually strolling through my facebook when I saw a photo someone posted of my friend, Travis Morgado. I stopped to look at the photo and noticed that the caption read R.I.P. My mind raced and I frantically scrolled through his page. I noticed comment after comment giving condolences and R.I.P's. The word 'no' was screaming through my brain as it sunk in. My worst fears had come true, and the person I had hoped would come back from Afghanistan safely was now gone forever. We had e-mailed each other only two weeks before and now he was gone. He was only 25 years old.

That hurts. Writing that hurts. I met Travis not that long ago. I was coming back from DC after my amazing experience lobbying Capitol Hill with my fellow NAPAWF sisters and was boarding my flight when I noticed a young man in fatigues headed towards my seat. I had noticed him earlier, and his uniform piqued my curiosity. For some reason, I felt like I wanted to know his story. Maybe it was because I was an Army brat for the first ten years of my life (a fact that most people don't know about me),with my Bangladeshi immigrant father serving both in the US Army and National Guard reserve. Or maybe it's because my boyfriend, Roberto and my mentor Anthony are also ex-Marines. These people are some of the most important and maybe THE most important people in my life and with that, the military also became a part of my life story, intermingled in my history and in the history of people I love.

I think I spoke to Travis first, and true to my nature (and the name of this blog), I didn't shut up; neither of us did. We talked the during the ENTIRE five hour flight to SF. I don't think I ever spoke to a complete stranger for that long, let alone on a plane. But it was so easy, he was a great listener, and I was so interested in his decision to join the military and where he would be going.  I have strong views against militarism and war, so talking to him was a fascinating insight into why he was enlisted and how he felt about being shipped to Afghanistan. I told him that if he was to go Afghanistan, he should learn about the people, their customs and maintain his humanity the best he could. With this in mind, I promised to send him the book, Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson, a book about an American who went to Pakistan and Afghanistan to build schools for girls, and how he did it by being respectful and open to the cultures of the communities he was working with.

Travis on the right, just as I remember him on the plane wearing his fatigues. You aren't supposed to wear fatigues on a plane, but he told me all of his clothes had already been sent home so he had no choice ;-)
Photo by: Army OCS 006-11 2nd Platoon Black Hearts

The plane landed, we exchanged information and went down the terminal together. At the door, I introduced him to my boyfriend, and waved good bye...that was the last time I ever physically saw him.

Yet not the last time I heard from him. I sent him my copy of the book and wrote a note for him in the inside cover. We sent e-mails back and forth. He emailed me about his crazy time in Vegas and I emailed him about my plans to go to Vietnam. A week after I met him, he donated $100 to my cause (which I mentioned in an earlier blog post). That act of kindness brought me to tears when I saw the donation pull up. I had just met him and was overwhelmed by his quick generosity. I knew this guy was special.

He was deployed to Afghanistan on March 20. In Afghanistan we continue to email each other. He told me how he was so nervous to be coming in from the outside and commanding men, he didn't know if he could do it right. I sent words of encouragement and told him to watch out for camel spiders. I sent him another book to read. I knew he was glad to have someone to talk to while he was deployed. I always told him to be safe. I wrote it to him, emailed it to him and texted to him. I always wished for his safety.

When I found out about his death from a roadside bomb, I was hysterical. I then saw articles of him posted. It is so weird to see your friend as an article. I felt so sad for his parents and family, I could not imagine what they were going through. I called my boyfriend because he knew what it was like to lose his comrades in war. I called him so angry. I was always angry about the wars, but now war seemed even more meaningless and senseless. Who wins a war? Who ever truly wins a war? The innocent civilians who are murdered ruthlessly as collateral damage? The young men in their prime who are buried by their parents? The politicians making the decisions without facing any of the consequences? Who EVER WINS a war? I ranted these things to Roberto, who had lost many men in his unit, though he himself was never deployed.

I somehow went to sleep that night, with a dose of Tylenol PM and chamomile tea. When I woke up the next morning, I felt like my face had been hit by a truck. The crying and tears had drained me, but I picked myself up and went to an event to meet Congresswoman Barbara Lee, an amazing woman who was one of the few representatives who voted against the Iraq war from the very beginning, and has been a great leader. I knew that Travis would have wanted me to attend this event, to keep following my dreams, to fight the good fight, make connections and change the world. He was excited for me when I was elected to be a delegate to the Democratic National Convention. He told me that I would probably end up all famous and successful one day and forget about the little people like him. That one day when he would tell people that he knew me, they would laugh him off as a crazy old lieutenant.

With Rep. Lee...this one was for you, Travis

I knew back then that I would never forget him. I told him so, but now with everything that has happened, his memory is seared into my heart and mind forever.

I have never lost a friend or family member who was a soldier in a war. Yet I always stopped to look and acknowledged memorials of the thousands of young men and women who lost their lives. In Vietnam. In Iraq. In Afghanistan.  Now I know someone and it has changed me, death always changes the living.

It is Memorial Day today, memorial day will never be the same for me. I think about Travis all the time, the shock has worn off but I am still in disbelief.  Sometimes I fantasize that he will come back and we could continue our friendship, finally get to hang out again. But it's just a fantasy, something that makes me smile and saddens me at the same time.

I wanted to sign this post off with one of the last things Travis wrote to me via e-mail. It was something poignant that stuck with me...

"I think that at one point not even that long ago I was a lot different of a person than I am now. Don't you ever think about how your life would have been different had you just done a couple of things another way? I think that regret is a feeling that can consume a person. It's the difference between a happy person and a sad one, every local I meet here show no signs of regret, they all seem happy with their lives. Complete opposite of most of the soldiers I've met here. I have always believed that there has to be something mentally wrong with a person to pick my job, especially since every other job in the army is more practical, and less dangerous. And the longer I'm in the more I believe that I am right. We are fighting without a purpose, you cannot kill an idea, and yet everyone here is still willing to fight, and just waiting to get shot at." - Travis Morgado

I hope that in the end Travis, you did not have regrets. I know you chose your path, and knew the dangers. Neither of us knows the purpose of war, and it makes me wonder how you felt being over there with this realization. But I will not regret for you, I will always remember you with love and happy memories. I will be that happy person who does not regret. I am grateful that you were in my life.

R.I.P Lt. Travis Morgado, my friend

Love,

Nadia

I remember...

Many magazines or newspapers publish "In Memoriam" articles at the end of the year, commemorating the lives of celebrities and public figures who have passed on. Well 2011 is a month in, but I wanted to write a post to just...remember people. In the past year, some people I have known left the world in very sudden ways. Most of them were young and around my age which only added to the shock factor. Maybe it's due to the overwhelming stress I have had in my life in the past few months, but recently I have had delayed reactions when I found out about people I know passing on. It's like I hear the news and feel nothing, but days later I find myself crying randomly, or getting up at night and crying. Don't know if that's normal, but I suppose that is how my mind is handling grief at the moment.

In spring of 2010, my friend Ying passed on during vacation in the Bahamas. Ying was a college friend who begged me to join a Ms. Asia Pageant, so they could have more brown girls (which I consequently won, thanks Ying!). I also remember her dressing up as a hotdog at the Rutgers University Hot Dog Day. She made an awesome hot dog. I guess that is how I will always remember her, as an energetic little Asian girl who was a great leader and just a vibrant ball of energy.

Another girl I knew not as closely, but she was an enthusiastic volunteer when I worked at the Center For South Asia Studies at UC Berkeley. She passed in a plane crash. It was again, very sudden and she was very young, younger than me. It is just surreal to see someone at work, and then knowing that they are just gone, like dust.

After this I found found out that an awesome friend I knew in college, Kanishka Paul, passed away from a heart attack. He was young and in medical school. He had been one
of the founders and first presidents of the Bengali Students Association at Rutgers, and was there to support me when I took on a leadership role within BSA. I remember begging him to be in the fashion show, and he enthusiastically obliged, playing the part of a green card holder who gets the girl =). And he was always a great sport when I pulled him into interactive BSA meetings. The world lost a really great and humble guy.

Another girl I knew named Soraya passed away recently in Thailand. I knew her through other friends in capoeira here in Berkeley. She was a beautiful girl with great energy. It was again, shocking, as with the others, to hear of her passing. She was so healthy and active. It's always hard when anyone passes away, but when young, healthy people are suddenly gone, it's just very hard to wrap my mind around.

Most recently, a relative I loved dearly, my uncle, Hamid Choudhury passed away. If you look at my previous postings, you will come across one about my great uncle (my nana) Masood Choudhury passing on. Hamid was his son. Hamid's death was very shocking to me. I was worried about his health especially after his father passed. I remember holding his hand so tightly during his father's funeral, so that I could be there for him. That was the last time I saw him. We would talk on facebook and send some messages back and forth. I feel guilty that I didn't reach out to him more, I didn't know that he would leave so soon. But I guess no one ever really does, and maybe in some ways many of us have regrets when we lose someone. Hamid was such an incredibly intelligent and funny person. I loved talking to him because we were both total science nerds. We would spend hours talking about black holes and time travel. He was surprised to find a young girl so interested in this "nerdy" stuff. He would lend me books on string theory that I would always forget to return. I asked his sister to give me his books. I feel that by reading them, with every word, I will remember him. I love to read and books are so precious to me. I will keep his books forever and through his love for science, for theories and knowledge, I will keep his memory alive.

I remember hanging out with him and his father, my nana, in their Harlem apartment. I always had fun with the both of them. Lots of laughs, good food, political talks and constantly having to shout things at nana repeatedly since his hearing was going. In my heart, there is a room, where they both will stay, me and them, together in that apartment talking and enjoying ourselves. And they will be there forever, where I can visit them whenever I want.

Maybe that's just how it is, in my head they are alive and vibrant, and this is my way of dealing with it. Sorry for making this post depressing, but more than anything it was just my little way to relay my memories of these people. Maybe it's more for me, but thanks for reading. I'll have more uplifting posts in the future, I promise. But my blog will go as life goes, with the ups and downs.