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note: i originally wrote this on august 30.
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You: Alone, and then with friends, at a Saturday night Qawali and ensuing party in SF.
Me: Admirer from afar, "the" sardar, in disbelief that the person's whose blog I'd incidentally discovered and began reading was actually at the same place I was.
My apologies if I was gawking, though you caught me a few times. I was at first trying to figure out if it was really you, and then trying to decide if I should introduce myself, and simply ask if you were doing ok. But as the night continued on, I noticed you laughing and smiling with friends - it seemed as though you were - and I decided to not cross that line. You obviously have a lot of people who look after you, and it's probably best that I remained one of your many anonymous observers and admirers.
Basically, what I wanted to say in this, is that given what you're going through, it was nice to see you enjoying yourself - laughing, smiling and dancing, and for someone who I've never met, I was glad to see it.
Posted by: sardar | August 29, 2004 03:39 PM
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dearest sardar-ji,
if you read these disparate collections of words which comprise my "online empire", you know that i have a weakness for punjabi men. :) you add fuel to that fire, dear sir. i sat down at this very computer last night and tried to write. then, i saw your comment and tears flooded my eyes as my fingers froze, curling uselessly right above this barely yielding keyboard.
i was overwhelmed by your words, and i had to walk away. i had to leave the bloodletting for another day.
YOU: the only "proper sardar" in the whitewashed, nyc-loft of a room, sitting on the middle couch, next to a girl who i assumed was your own...yes, i caught you, once or twice. but you had no idea what i was thinking, what i interpreted those sideways glances to mean. such a strange sensation, looking at you...i wanted to recognise you. i don't lie. there was something about you. somewhere, in a realm that is surreal and not governed by logic, i recognised that you were recognising me...
ME: alone. consummately, pathetically alone. so scared that i was looking around for anyone, even an enemy to recognise, to anchor myself to, to locate myself with...i noticed you immediately, b/c my ottaman was almost across from your couch. i didn't inwardly castigate you for looking at me. after all, i was the freak show. "i bring this upon myself," i thought. "to come to a desi event alone is to ask for scrutiny...gawd, anna...what is WRONG w/you?" i averted my eyes at your gaze, took a deep breath, and told myself that i had a right to be there, in the middle of the empty hardwood floor, the only human there...alone. honestly? going to that club was the most terrifying thing i've done in a long time.
"I noticed you laughing and smiling with friends - it seemed as though you were - and I decided to not cross that line. You obviously have a lot of people who look after you, and it's probably best that I remained one of your many anonymous observers and admirers"
friends. people who "look after me". you were right to have your "doubts" about my social life that night. :) i know what it must have looked like; i threw regret to the man-made wind, churning forth from those precious fans downstairs. on saturday, i just wanted to laugh. and dance. and live. even if i couldn't get a single soul to go to this obscenely fantastic event with me.
friends.
quite the opposite, darling sardar. quite the opposite. my "friends" were found that same night. would you believe that i made eye contact with YOU before any of them? the first "friend" came up to me b/c i was entranced by his skill with the sarod. he was gracious enough to make me so comfortable, everyone assumed that he was someone i had known for a while. as one of the organizers of the event, he was also the consummate host, stopping by throughout the evening to see if i was enjoying myself.
the second "friend" recognised me from my fotolog (!). i was floored when he appraised me for a moment, and then point-blank asked, "are you anna?" he was bemused by my shock at being noticed, until i told him that he was the first person to ever approach me in public in such a way.
i took a deep breath before emptying my mind; "i write or create these sites and i don't expect anyone to really pay attention or care. i don't walk around wondering if i'm going to get recognised-- the possibility for such things leaves me incredulous". he asked about the email debacle and my love life in a forthright, pretense-free way that had me reeling with mixed emotions internally. externally, i stayed calm.
for the very first time, i was experiencing the repercussions of my candor. i knew that i didn't have much right to be astonished at his "familiarity" with my "current events" b/c i wrote about them, but that didn't stop me from experiencing a massive sort of shock. this may inspire some of you to screech, "DUH!" at your monitors, but resist. it looks silly, and besides, i'm sincere when i share my dissonance with you. i never expected any of these things to happen.
he was genuinely surprised that i was there alone, but after a few moments of an almost uncomfortable silence, he seemed to understand that i was trying to survive the drama that has become my life. when i bid him farewell, i saw a kindness in his eyes that i relished like water on a scalding day. i was touched that this complete stranger gave a damn about me.
"i hope it works out, after all" he said, before i walked away. his heartfelt good wishes and obvious concern were what i chose to focus on, and after a while, i forgot how startled i had initially felt when he first asked me about my relationship. the only thing i can compare that moment to is the mild terror one feels when in a public bathroom, and someone succeeds in opening the door while you are in a stall.
the third "friend" was the ultimate sort of random; he liked my diesel jeans. surprise, surprise...he was wearing a pair himself. i had been dancing and letting go of a lot of ickiness when he stopped me to make chit-chat. i learned his name and age before he asked how old i was. "almost 30," i replied, certain that mischief was written all over my face. i love the shock people display when they realise i'm way older than they thought. "NO! i thought you were 23 like me! no way. 30..." he stunned me by grabbing my left hand before announcing, "not married? you're getting a bit old to be single, aren't you?" i looked at him blankly before smiling slightly and excusing myself. i wasn't going to ruin my precious and much-needed good time on such bullshit. i remember being pleased that in my peripheral vision, i could see that his smirk had faded.
anyway.
"friends".
as you now know, not really. maybe two of them will be friends, one day...i'll take all the allies i can get, thank you. i don't know what role any of these people is meant to play in my strange life. i don't know anything anymore. but i'm figuring some of it out, verrrry slowly.
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sardar, i will never be able to convey to you what your sentiments meant to me, at the exact moment when i read them yesterday. you taught me that even when i am at my most despondent, vulnerable, absolutely tormented worst, i am never alone.
it's hard for me to imagine that the man i locked eyes with that night recognised me, thought such kind things about me, and felt a small sort of happiness that i was trying to survive. though that is a difficult concept to chew on, it is a delicious one, and i am grateful for the welcome, unexpected treat.
thank you a thousand times for writing to me, for forcing my breath to catch in my throat, for proving that the infinite universe really does fit in baby krishna's mouth.