Musings of one random New Yorker

“Go back to your country,” 

“Go back to where you came from!” 

“Curry lover.” 

“look at that big red dot on your forehead!” 

I’ve heard it all. Which, as a U.S. born Citizen… feels surreal. Out of my entire family, I am the first to be born in the United States, though my heritage and ancestry span continents. 

Originally, my ancestors are from India’s northernmost region, Punjab, to be exact, but the story does not start from there, though. 

No, the story begins with my ancestors integrating with the Greeks, the Romans, the Persians, the Afghanis, the Mongols, and essentially the multitudes of other ethnicities that dreamt of India’s wonders and sought to conquer, trade in it, or subjugate it.

With each new group, with each new conquest, and with each new age, my ancestors survived, thrived, and grew. In a time where there were no universal laws or rules, my bloodline prevailed. And through all this time, they paved the course of my path, the purpose of my being, to one day be here, sitting in this very chair, typing these words out for anyone to read and digest. 

Through famine, war, disease, political intrigue, migration, poverty, wealth, my ancestors ensured I would be here one day. 

In a land that would be alien to them, but to me, it is all I have ever known to be home. 

Here in this nation – 

I scraped my knees for the first time, rollerblading. 

I played handball in the public parks against the bigger boys.

I saw scobby-doo and sang along to its theme song E.V.E.R.Y. T.I.M.E.

I enjoyed my first pop-song – NSYNC

I had my first school detention

My first beat up after school.

My first fish, turtle, bird, dog, and now cat pet

My first best friend

My first kiss

My first love

My first heartbreak

My first Slurpee (My first brain freeze)

My first pizza 

My first BaconEgg&Cheese

My first educational degree (Then my second first master’s degree)

My first credit card

My first job

My first paycheck

My first exposure to death

My first breakdown

My first sense of accomplishment

You see, this country was my first for everything, as I was the first of my family to be born here. So when you tell me to go back to where I came from, where do you think that place is?

How could you know what it took, the sacrifices, the pain, the defeats, the victories, and the resilience and determination it took to ensure that I would be here one day?

They couldn’t know, but you, dear reader, you now know. 

The next time someone decides to tell you to go back to where you came from, take a moment and realize you are everything your ancestors hoped, prayed, traveled, worked, fought, and died for to be here. 

You are your bloodline’s greatest achievement. 

And just like you, I am here to stay, to grow, to achieve, and to inspire.

What are your detractors here to do? 

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I Mistakenly Gave You My Friendship, and Now I’m Compelled to Take it From You

Author’s note: This is an actual message that I sent to a friend – someone I had known for many years. I felt it important to share with LCR readers who may be experiencing similar struggles. The content of this message has been *lightly* edited to provide clarity for general readership.

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I have given this a great deal of thought, and I feel I must say this. I have always tried to do my best to be open-minded to other opinions. And I will continue to do so. But my willingness to listen to opposing sides was carelessly abused Wednesday evening. You saw fit to use my Facebook post decrying the violence and loss of life at the hands of a mob incited by the sitting president as an excuse to peddle conspiracy theories. The photos of “proof” you provided were doctored to make uninformed, gullible people believe that Antifa – not Trump supporters – were behind the insurrection at the Capitol on Wednesday.

The real proof – not hearsay (you claimed that your “reliable” friend provided this “proof”) – is that the people in the photos were all identified as well-known Trump supporters, some of them active in QAnon – a bastion of the most horrible, outlandish conspiracy theories I have ever had the misfortune to hear. These people saw fit to bypass legal and peaceful means to air their grievances, violently pushing themselves into the building – breaking through windows and doors, shoving through barricades, overpowering a Capitol Police officer to the point that he suffered fatal injuries, and forcing another officer to shoot a rioter – directly resulting in loss of human life. This wasn’t a protest. This wasn’t a righteous “Second American Revolution”, or “Second Civil War”. This was an attempted coup by a mob of closed-minded, disgruntled people who voluntarily chose to swallow Trump’s lies and cult of personality hook, line, and sinker, believing his persistent, baseless claims of a stolen election just because he said so. There is no PROOF. The EVIDENCE for my claim is the FACT that the vast majority of judges didn’t see even enough evidence to allow a case to be heard. The highest court in the land, packed of judges that Trump himself placed, ruled these claims to be baseless and without merit. The blindness of those who refuse to even see the proof boggles my mind.

We had known each other for years. I used to believe that you, living and working in Washington as an advocate for disabled Americans, were a level-headed, critical-thinking human being, who cared about truth and facts. I tolerated your meek argument that Trump “was a nice person”, based on a single personal meeting, without evaluating him beyond what mask he decided to wear on that day.

I invite you to reply to my post and apologize as soon as humanly possible for your mistake of promoting photographs that have been proven to be doctored with the intent to redirect blame. I would hope that you would have the self-awareness to accept the abundant facts refuting the photos you posted – and that you state so in public. 

My heart is broken for my country, for the people who were injured and killed, for the duly-elected people who run our government as they fled to escape the violence in fear of their own lives – and for the friendship that I mistakenly gave, and now am compelled to take from you.

With deep regrets

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