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Rants & Revelations
Satnam's Journal
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Jan. 6th, 2017 @ 10:03 pm Where have I been?
Current Location: home
Current Mood: Drained
Where have I gone?
What have I done?

I've been away from here... LJ, I've been a lot of places and I've done a lot of things.

Yet I'm back sitting and writing in the lonliness of my chamber. Perhaps a rapping would come to my chamber door.. and the madness that could follow.

Ok, enough of EA Poe.

It's time to start the journal again, time to wonder if I'll share it, if I'll put it on social media.
Do I want to go back and read it myself? Have I grown, or have I just aged?

Well see....

Sleep with Angels
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Mar. 3rd, 2013 @ 10:53 am Who am I?
Current Location: home
Current Mood: Melancholy
I've lost me somewhere!
I don't know where Satnam has gone, where is that person. I've become a shell of who I am, a person who can say what needs to be done, can put together plans but has no ambition to get them done.
Where is my motivation? Why does it so fleetingly disappear between bedroom to living room? I think maybe my couch has some sort of weird gravitational pull and I can't break free of it!

Where is the multitasking, single-parenting, career building person gone too?

I feel my life is difficult for me to want to participate in, its not a difficult life though. Millions are struggling financially, many so much worse than me, so what is it?

I have no energy to follow through, when I used be so tenacious. 
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Aug. 26th, 2012 @ 09:55 pm Hello, Goodbye, Hello again
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: melancholymelancholy

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it when I sorrow most;

'Tis better to have loved and lost,
Than never to have loved at all.

Lord Alfred Tennyson.

The perils of being well-read and at times well-versed is a dual-edged weapon of sorts; for while words can offer comfort, peace, introspective thought they can at times be weapons wielded with little regard to one’s own soul being lacerated and bloodied.

I think often of where I am in my life lately, and Lord Tennyson’s words seem to resonate within me, causing me great internal struggle as I oscillate between joy and pain; am I better or am I not? Sometimes I think perhaps this stanza very frequently quoted and misconstrued, for it is not of a lost love, but the death of a dear friend that is its subject, delegates us to believe that true love is worth all the toil, the angst, the sting and rapture it bestows upon us.

I, often, contemplate how I’ve become a dichotomy of self, one part blissful while the other in darkness. It forces one to ask themselves, in retrospect; Was it really worth it? At times, I desire to bellow a resounding counter that while the originator of this phrase truly understood loss, those querying me, often times that blissful chap in the mirror, have not lost a love and really should “try it” first. I realize that what I’m asking is for empathy, not sympathy. Truly something many people do not have any sort of grasp of these two distinct and different things, confusing the verb-noun usage of both.

To truly understand my plight, the splitting of my whole into the elated chap basking in the light of general love, and that raw emotional mourner dwelling the shadow of the lover, for when light is shone upon anything, there is a corresponding shadow, what the outsider would need is empathy. To be able to wear my cloak of despondence and anguish of love lost, due to them having lost as I have. For there is no great torture than loving someone that doesn't love you back. 

Shakespeare wrote that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" I believe Sir William could only be sympathetic to my plight for he perhaps wouldn't have quite phrased it that way.

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Aug. 7th, 2012 @ 08:26 pm When you are in love
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative

Facts about women:

  1. When a woman is quiet, 
    • A million things going through her mind.
  2. When a woman is not arguing,
    • She is thinking deeply.
  3. When a woman stares at you,
    • She is wondering why you are so wonderful.
  4. When a woman answers, "I'm fine,” after a few seconds,
    • She is not fine at all.
  5. If a woman says that she can't live without you,
    • Her mind is made up that you are her future.
  6. When a woman lays her head on your chest,
    • She is wishing for you to be her forever.
  7. When a woman says, "I miss you,”
    • No one in this world can miss you more than that.
  8. When you break a woman’s heart,
    • She still feels it when you run into each other 3 years later.
  9. When a woman calls you every day,
    • She wants to be with you.
  10. When she wants a hug
    • She will just stand there.
  11. When a woman looks at you with eyes full of questions,
    • She is wondering how long you will be around.

Facts about Men:

  1. When a guy is quiet,
    • He's listening to you
  2. When a Man is not arguing,
    • He realizes he's wrong.
  3. When a Man stares at you,
    • He wants you to care about him
  4. When a Man says, "I'm fine,” after a few minutes,
    • He means it.
  5. When a Man says he can't live without you,
    • He’s with you till you're done.
  6. When you're laying your head on a Man's chest,
    • He has the world.
  7. When a Man says, "I miss you,”
    • He misses you more than you could have ever missed him or anything else.
  8. When a good Man is mean to you after a breakup
    • He has been hurt worse than anything in his life, but would forgive you in a moment.
  9. When a Man calls you every day,
    • He is in love.
  10. When a good Man tells you he loves you,
    • He means it.
  11. When a Man looks at you with eyes full of questions,
    • He is wondering what he has to do to keep you happy forever
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Sep. 24th, 2008 @ 10:31 pm where to begin
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: melancholymelancholy
Current Music: photograph - Nickelback


I am not sure how to even start this post; I stared at the blank white box for a while. How does one come back after so long and tell the tale of 4 months in a few words?
My life is not the same as it was back on June 6th, so much changed so rapidly. Perhaps if I put it down chronologically it may make some sense, but then the emotions are so raw still at times that I know I'll still be moving back and forth on the time line. Guess this will make this post a melancholy tale with some Tarantino aspects to it.

My daughter's graduation was followed up by my sister getting transferred to headquarters here in the Sacramento region; she has decided that for the time being she is going to live with me. This has been wonderful and I really enjoy having her here. I have signed up for 2 more marathons and we are training together. The bad part is that I have somehow injured my IT band and though I fear it is lingering from the San Diego Marathon, I am not 100% certain.

On June 23rd, in the evening, my sisters called me from dinner in LA, and told me that our father had called an ambulance because he was having difficulty breathing. I was concerned, this man would never call an ambulance; it was always a fight just to get him to go to the doctor let alone the hospital. So I decided to make the 1.5 hour trek to Turlock from my home and arrived there just before 11:00 PM. My sisters were going to hit the road from the Imperial Valley and had a 6-hour drive to get back home.

When I got to my folks house, my kids stayed there with my niece and nephew, while I decided to head to the ER. Vince, the neighbor, spoke to me and he and Amy (his wife) told me that it wasn't a big deal and that my dad actually wanted to walk to the ambulance and not be put on a gurney. Vince figured he'd be home soon after some respiratory tests.

Now if you are not from N. California, this is the time when the valley was full of smoke from the 300+ lightening ignited wild/forest fires. So for a 68 year old man to complain about his breathing didn't seem to be too out of the ordinary.

I arrived at the hospital; my dad was surprised to see me as my mother didn't tell him we were all coming. He would have been upset at us for being so concerned. This was a proud and stubborn man we're talking about here. (Yeah I get it from him) My mother was a mess, she was frightened and frustrated, and so I spoke with my dad, the doctors and my mother. We were told that he would have to go and get an ultrasound on his thigh, as they were concerned that he may have a clot in his leg. His pulse rate was really low and he was on oxygen to help get his platelet count up.

During the ultra sound, I was with dad, he was very agitated and since he had lost weight and we had now discovered he had acute pneumonia, the pressure by the tech was painful. This made my dad's endorphins kick in and he got nauseous and faint. I quickly had to get him some water. Well the doctors didn't want him to drink anything in case they had to give him a transfusion in the morning, but I scammed a cup of water from a radiologist and got my dad settled down.


From there he went to the CT scan for his chest, mom and I were not allowed to go, the test would take 20 minutes and when he returned he was panic stricken. I was very concerned and my mom and I pleaded with them to let us give him some water which he was pleading us for. The transport guy was very nice and gave us water and ice chips and wheeled him back to the ER room.

It was about 12:30 now, and I decided to call my sisters and give them a heads up on what was happening. They were somewhere in the far southern Valley and were on their way, though still almost 3 hours from the hospital. I had told my dad that they were coming while we were at the Ultra Sound.

Around 12:50, my dad became very agitated and honestly, a bit scared. He was not lying down; he kept pulling off the oxygen mask and complaining that he couldn't breathe. He got blood into his IV by flexing and contracting his arm as he resisted attempts to make him lay back. I got up and took his hand and calmed him, got him to lie down and soothed him to relax. I remember seeing my dad look at me and as I rubbed his head he began to settle down. In my whole life I had never felt that close to my father.

Around 1:05 in the morning, as I caressed his head, my father looked intently at me; he stopped breathing and went into cardiac arrest. I remember shouting at the nurse to get help, that his heart was stopping and he wasn't breathing. I remember vividly, my mother grabbing my arm and pleading to make him breath. The staff working on him for 20 minutes, performing CPR and putting him on a respirator, his heart restarted and they worked to get him as stable as possible. My mother and I just held each other through this ordeal, we were stunned and somehow, after dad was on the respirator, I got the courage to leave the room and call my sisters.

I told them what had happened, that mom was a wreck and she insisted that when I called them I would implore them to drive safely. I let them know that mom couldn't handle anything else happening to our family that night. I had gotten into an argument with my sister Premjeet on the phone on whether to call family members, it is funny what happens to your emotions at a time like this; how you set your priorities and who you become close too, having lived away from Turlock for over a decade I had not stayed attached to the family scene. I chose to avoid the gossip, fights and malcontent behavior.

My sisters arrived after 3am; I am somewhat hazy as to what exact time it was. Dad couldn't draw breath on his own and for his pulse to stay at a good level his oxygen was near 100% on the machine. Before my sister's arrival my mother and I sat and held each other and discussed my father's request that he never be kept alive on a machine. My mom is a strong person and she actually wanted to make sure that I remembered my dad's wish so that if we had to come to that, I would be able to stand up for that against any objections from my sisters. We discussed whether we should tell any of my dad's siblings who were in the area, but decided that it would cause a scene in the hospital.

We were surprised to see one my dad's sisters and her daughter arrive at the ER, claiming some sort of psychic connection to something bad happening to us. I was flabbergasted and dismayed, as I knew that this would lead to a scene, and it did. My emotions on this are too intense, so it will be in another post....

They decided to move him upstairs to the Critical Care Unit, and we were in an adjacent CCU room filling out forms while they got him settled in, about 10 minutes into the forms, a nurse came in and said "you guys need to come into your father's room". We got there to see them scrambling to do CPR, there were now nearly 15 people from Nurses, orderlies, doctors, technicians and surgeons and us and for 30 of the longest minutes of my life, worse than the 20 I endured a few hours before, they worked on my dad. I held my mother and my youngest sister, and I remember how badly I longed to see a flutter on the EKG after they would use the defibrillator on him. I can barely type now....

30 minutes after we had gotten in that room, the doctor turned and said "I'm very sorry, we can't bring him back. He didn't suffer or feel pain" There are many times when something emotional will hit you like a kick in the gut. Never had I felt this, I was stunned, shocked, saddened, it was as if the air in my lungs was blocked and I didn't think I could ever take another deep breath. My mind went back to 1am when I was holding my father's hand, when I felt it go cold, when I saw him look at me and then close his eyes. I realized then that my father would never look at me with those eyes ever again.

The eyes that smiled, that glared, or twinkled with some mischief. I wish I could have said something more to him. Instead of calming him with a soothing "Don't worry Dad I am here, I got you" I could have told him how proud I was that this man with nothing more than an 8th grade education could come to America with $20 bucks, a strong back and an even stronger will and make a great life for all of us. I wish I could have told him that even though I was distant, I always was my father's son and wished I had realized as a 20 something what I knew as a 30-something.

My father was gone that early morning of June 24th, 37 years to the day he stepped off that plane, with his wife, son, daughter and $20 dollars. I sit here today, and still can't believe it, that 3 days later I'd be reading his Eulogy and the day afterI would scatter his ashes.

I've not spoken about that, about scattering the remains of my father 25 days before my 40th birthday; or the feeling of emptiness it has left inside me, I have yet to tell anyone how painful my birthday was as I realized reading my card that it would say from mom instead of from Dad & Mom like it had my whole life. In my heart I believe that my dad is in a better place, free of all his illness and pain, having conquered his vices and made peace with his maker. I wish I could look into those eyes one more time, could get one more piece of advice, or joke, or heck even have him yell at me again. 

It has been 3 months today since my dad left us, 3 months for me to write down in detail everything that happened that night. I don't know how much longer it will take for the healing to start, time will tell

as always,
Sleep with Angels


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Jun. 6th, 2008 @ 10:28 pm Additional
Current Mood: melancholymelancholy
My family came up for the graduation, as did my ex-wife, her mother, father, stepmom and her brother's family.

My father didn't go to the high school, he was not up to it. but was very happy and proud of my daughter.
We got to go the grocery store, I was a bit taken back at how slow my father walks, and how weak he is.
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Jun. 6th, 2008 @ 11:21 am Ash's grad
Current Mood: peacefulpeaceful
 Today is a happy day for me, though I will admit there is a touch of melancholy associated with it too. 
My oldest graduated from High School, and as proud as I am of her, the doubts about myself creep in a bit in my mind. Have I really given her the tools she needs for this next phase of her life. I can a bit frightened about the fact my daughter will be an adult in a month's time. She is my little girl, and so this is very hard for me internally. 
Yes, they do grow and you have to let them go, I understand that; but it doesn't change the fact that as her primary parent for much of her formative years, I am worried about the job I did. Am I selfish?

If she goes on to be a great sucess, would I take too much credit? If she fails, will I blame her and claim to have done all I can? Such is the crossroads I face, one I am sure many a parent in my place has faced.

But that if for discussion some night over some wine, for now it is time for the bubbly, cause Daddy's Little Girl has gotten her diploma. I let the macho set in and didn't bawl my eyes out at the school. The tears were their though, the tears were there.
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Jun. 4th, 2008 @ 11:30 am (no subject)

Sunday nightSunday night

This is at another chili's (yeah we like eating there) and of course it is post race and I am enjoying an adult beverage.

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Jun. 4th, 2008 @ 11:01 am thihgs that piss me off



that is the kind of stuff that really pisses me off, when a military regime ( a legitimate one) does that to its country.

When I see people with the “regime change starts at home” stickers on their cars, I think do they realize what a regime really does?

In Burma, even the UN helicopters are not allowed to get help to stricken and dying people. What the hell do they have to fear?


Putting aside everything that has happened since Iraq, how can we as a world of educated people not look at the Burmese military and say “ they need to be put out of business”

When a government refuses aid to help its own people, announces that their constitution was overwhelmingly ratified it tells me there is a reason outsiders would be feared if they spoke to the Burmese citizens.

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Jun. 3rd, 2008 @ 11:08 am Hell and back - 26.2 miles
Current Music: Iron Maiden - Lonliness of the long distance runner

As most you have known in conversations with me over the past few months, my youngest sister had talked me into running the San Diego Rock & Roll Marathon with her this past Sunday. So I am answering that question I had been getting “Tell me how it was ok?”

For her it would have been her third full marathon, along with half marathons at Long Beach and Memphis (country music) however my sister got injured training just before the Los Angeles race and though she did compete and complete it, her hip injury has shelved her for this one.


I had been training up here in Rocklin, by myself and did run on Sunday. I was totally amazed and overwhelmed at the dedication and fortitude it takes to go 26.2 miles and I will never look at runners and running the same again. This race is a great event with its 27 bands and the Marine Marching Band, the great neighborhoods of SD who are so supportive; however the beveled section of 163 between miles 9 and 11 (I can’t believe I am talking miles – I’m a sprinter!) caused an injury to my knee and ankle. Although I made 13.1 miles, the half portion in 3 hours and 1 minute..by the 17th mile my lack of training with an experienced coach or team caught up with me and so I mostly had to walk to the finish….but I FINISHED!


Most everyone who knew about this has wished me luck, thank you so much as I am sure I got some and didn’t end up like the dozen or so runners I witness being carted off by paramedics before the halfway point. I strongly encourage all of you at some point to get out and if not train to compete in a run, watch and cheer others on, it is a great experience and one I will cherish.

One of my fondest memories will be hugging my sister at the very end of it all, and tearfully thanking her for talking me into this; the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.

a good friend today told me that what I should take away is: I had the courage the start it and the heart to finish it.  - thanks JD

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