Sand Deep - (25%)

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Before A.D. - Two

About my mother, she speaks when she says she’ll listen. But probably like some she spoke more and comprehended less. I hated speaking to my mother; she would begin to speak loud, and frustrate herself and then turn my words as insults. This she would use against me as swears when she felt the need for attention or emphasize that she was wrong for raising the devil’s spawn. This became a nightmare; I couldn’t stand being around this woman. This wasn’t an attention deficit disorder the pagan acted selfishly.

First I began to fault myself then I began to fault others, later I understood that the only reason I would want my mother alive was for my sister, who without the Lord in my life would have become just as her. I reserved myself from her, nothing about my life and keeping her questions answered short. The potentiality of speaking about school life, interests, quarries and friends would all become contraindicated. And whoever earned the most in the entire world would be praised and hence I became obsolete. The possibility to love her disappeared, she loved me and she spoke highly to others about me, however she knew nothing about me. And as for the Lord I reached the ability to forgive her continuously. Love God.

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.”

[Genesis 1:1-2]

Whilst I was at university my mum’s family throughout London and Outer London surrounded me but I chose to live alone. Freshman year was at Denmark Hill, an area of London I never had imagined, and chose King’s College Hall as the broacher had a Sikh dude sitting on a deck staring on a cloudy day. I had visited Denmark Hill countless of times as one of my mother’s brothers happened to live not even one bus journey away. And the only real time I had personally visited them was when I was living in Norbury in my first final takings of my dental exams which was in 2004, six years after I had moved to London. I kept myself isolated from the rest of the family members as I had a nasty habit of smoking and drinking, things throughout six years got from bad, to worse, to unimaginable. Norbury was my final chance to settle my family’s dreams.

The problem had come from a long time before hand. The trust in the relations of my mother for my father’s side of the family was lost. All I heard from kinder hood was complaints about how any member of my father’s immediate family was a disgrace to her. I had brushed most remarks from her and carried on at eighteen to study in the streets of London.

Now I’m in London from listening from the teachings of my parents and my parents alone. Everything relied on satisfying them in every possible way as especially my mother couldn’t tell the difference from a joke and the truth when coming from my lips. Think how these times would hold conversations that were never made. Trust is a valuable identity, some people rely on it and some people don’t realise that’s what was lost that caused them to go down dark roads. I believe that if there’s nothing accountable to trust then trust in humour.

Consider me to have written the rest of the words in drunken state over an all powerful Lord. Call Him what you what, I call Him, Shree Krishna, and the way to reach the Almighty Lord is to know about the teachings of His one and only son, Jesus Christ. I understand my mistakes and those caused on a crying child because there’s a law of life governed by Christianity, that each Christian can be considered more than Jesus but to Christ, the Light. I believe through all that you read in my testimony that my wrong doings was simply because I had no one to believe from.

Well whilst I was in my wilderness trying to find my path in my community, I didn’t do well with people. Out drinking, and smoking and doing everything but keeping a high standard for anyone to follow.

My time in London was spent with an occasionally cigarette to and from the train station, and to and from clinics at Guy’s Hospital. For seven years, not five that I would have imagined by a good performing student. Instead I spent time with friends who enjoyed smoking marijuana and friends who enjoyed daily walks around the city.

I never thought there was something that confident from me. Acting like a professional and talking with those that act like professionals disappeared from my life. The professionals in my life were my dad’s brothers, their wives and soon to be in ten years their children. They had each other. I was an average of eight years apart of age compared to my immediate cousins, my immediate family. With this gap I never thought to stay in more contact with my dad’s brothers and from what my mum says they found it difficult to communicate with me.

All good people left my life early and they went far. My cousins moved to the U.S. and a good friend to Vancouver. This friend and his just married wife were involved in a car accident that almost left her paralyzed. I happened to stop smoking all together hoping somehow spiritually that she would recover if I stopped blowing fumes out of my own lungs. She recovered with screws in her spine and she was able to walk and laugh. My friend kept his spirit up, but then again he always had a good family to lend an ear.

Unfortunately I began smoking after all my exams were done and my result was published as a fail. Instead of staying clean I lit another smoke and called my family to share the news on Diwali. My family had moved to America, South Carolina, three months before I was to sit my final exams in dentistry for the BDS. That was no problem if they had suggested that there was no need me to push where I was and to gain my rewards from England. My life was in England and a choice of option should have been given to me, I was scared, everything was not as easy when you are doing it alone that I failed. I flew to S.C. where I spent over two months amusing the family and their new friends that nothing was wrong and that the next time will be promisingly good. Not only this but I was not issued a Green Card for permanent residency in the U.S. as I was over 21 but 15 other members of my family were. And for business this move had happened.

That was my second trip to S.C. where the first was only two months prior to celebrate my sister’s sixteenth birthday. This time to the South I had become introduced to Jesus a little stronger through a band Remy Zero, and reading T.H. White’s; The Once and Future King; on the flight. I willingly walked into a church in S.C. as they were scattered all over the place and I knew of no mandir. I needed a place to think quietly, a moment to find answers in His presence. At the time I knew nothing of repentance and heard of Lord Jesus Christ as a forgiveness deliverer, so I fleeced Him to save me from my sins and not let my name die in vain.

My mother had another brother and two sisters who lived in London, the rest of her siblings were either in India or America. I happened to live for six months with one of her sisters in Wembley. This was after I had failed the third attempt of my final exam and had come back from another stay from the South. When I arrived back to England this time around I was lost, there was nothing for me to do for six months which I spent smoking marijuana and weight lifting, going to feast lunches alone and spending hours at a Moroccan bar getting baked on more skunk.

I travelled to central London from Wembley almost every day, which was an hour journey all because I just wanted a place to smoke. I had no idea what I was doing and stayed silent to hear Jesus lead the way. I had come back from S.C. for the fourth time and situations in my life had become worse still. Nevertheless I wasn’t going to lose my new faith in a Lord Saviour, the possibility of hope, and all that the London families lived by, and that was Jai Shree Krishna and Namaste.

Since worshipping in English I felt strength in my judgment; that everything was lost and there was nothing I could do about that and the only person to rely upon was Christ as I knew of no one else.

After failing the course as a whole, I needed to get my life working. I knew nothing about life, no house buying, no car purchasing, but I had a family in Wembley to live with and they gave a lot of faith. I didn’t realize even after I failed my attitude was that of my parents or what they had made me. Walking a path of righteous has showed me that this is not a chore but a desire.

Whilst I lived in Wembley after I failed all, I lived with my listening mother’s immediate relatives there I was allowed to speak of whatever I wished. I looked for a job. The job involved running from shop to shop selling a “better” telecom service. I did this until I was laid off as I could not meet their requirements; however I managed to set a few new customers for them and spending days on end doing so I did not get paid. I found another job with health care sales at local public spots in London such as Victoria Station and Liverpool Street Station. Here I did better but not well enough to be held on to work longer. I was laid off that job too. I was paid fairly there for the contracts I had gathered.

The rest of Wembley life was aimed to sanely pass time until returning back to America in summer 2006. There was nothing going for me anymore in London, I couldn’t enter back into university as my attempts were final and my appeal fell negative. And I somehow chose the time to smoke and hide the truth from my family for the two weeks of which Guy’s Hospital had given me to appeal in winter 2005. I did not appeal as I had enough of life, and if the presence of the Holy Spirit had not approached me the way He did I would not have even seen 2006. For me dying was easier than crying.

The Wembley home was filled with babies and laughter. My mother’s sister, her husband, his sister, her son married and blessed with two precious girls, one being a year old, and the other about four and my cousin about thirty four stayed in this house. Their home was actually two houses neighbouring each other with the gardens facing the Bakerloo Line running on the northwest rails of Greater London. There was an average of six trains an hour that whizzed past the kitchen windows; the trains flew by as fast as my time there.

Wembley also gave me time to sit and slow down. I hadn’t slowed on the smoking but I did gain the ability to concentrate on what mattered. And for this I thank my masa (mum’s sister’s husband). A man who knew how to cook, never smoked and only drank socially, all other times he would sit at home adjusting his finances and reading the daily paper. An extremely calm individual that on first impressions could be mistaken for a devil himself.

I give this man my life. I sat with him when I was baked, he sat and watched television and I stared at the wall. He peeled veins off tangerines whilst watching television and he helped me slowly build the courage to watch him as he peeled the tangerine veins. By the end of my stay in Wembley on St. John’s Road my speech was amended to build periods with confidence in speaking to groups of people. I was however still smoking but now this was to deal with the fact to feel euphoria rather than suicidal. This man helped me open my emotions towards why I hadn’t appealed on time and frankly allowed me to speak without being judged or hated.

Mostly for the last six months in England I spent time away from their love filled four walls. I felt comfortable staying isolated due to embarrassment and shame so I remained away from confrontation until I was suited to speak. Most my time was spent in Leicester with Romeo or driving up and down the A1 high as a kite, trying to solve what I should do but instead not solving anything as I was always on the move.

Sometimes I parked into quiet locations to have a smoke and stare out to the horizon and ask God to stop. I really needed an older brother, an older image of someone that fights for what’s amazing. Nevertheless at those times I would unnecessarily visit my father’s sister’s newsagents in King’s Cross, to pass the time with their youngest son. He was a great lad, spirits up and very considerate about the person beside him unlike his older brother who cared mostly for himself, nevertheless I did happen to be a bully to both brothers when I was young. I bullied them most the time, one brother realized this was childish stupidity and the other realized this a little later but until then he stayed clear of me. Two separate peas in a pod but both with more sense than I ever had even if they only shared half that sense between them.

If I wasn’t in London then I was in Leicester being arrested for drinking excessive amounts and talking to two female police officers. Happened to be that two male officers walked around the corner and arrested me mostly for a male sense of chauvinistic reason for a boast. Being tall made all the reason to be guilty. I hadn’t caused any trouble, I was with Romeo and somehow got thrown out a club just after I paid to enter, and then happened to see two female officers whom I was harmlessly talking to, and then along came two male officers who asked me to leave, and amongst slowly staggering away I staggered too slowly and got nicked. Romeo walked home. I spent the night in the cell and went to court the following week; the charge was withdrawn as there was no actual felony involved with the incident besides excessive drinking, and speaking and slow staggering. That day my charge was at zero pounds until I had got back to my car, my car was clamped.

That was my luck when I left England, that was how I left England, confused, drugged, full of alcohol, no common-sense, utter disappointment, no comfort and self-respect, in debt and somehow full of faith in Christ. Probably not out of love but for blame. I needed someone to explain this devastation I had suffered continuously across seven years and somehow I was obligated to hold onto a Jesus to explain my fallings. I’m following a life now believing in the Light, God and my peace.

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