The world is so unbelievably fucked up. People we should be able to trust are lying to us, hoping we die, and still appointing themselves the thought police despite all their own crimes, which span the taboos in all faiths.

I feel like they take policy ideas from movies with tense orchestral soundtracks.

And you know how the women at Mar a Lago all have plastic surgery caricature face, but they can’t see how grotesque it is? That’s why they don’t see our anger at all the crimes as valid. They just don’t see how monstrous they are being.

Or they don’t see our accusations as anything but the poors and the unwelcome forgetting our place.

Whatever. I will not see any of them in Valhalla, simply because THEY WILL NOT BE ANYWHERE GLORIOUS. I think there is something about how you can use up your appointed lot of divine blessings by using too many gold toilets in the earthly realm. Down the sewer pipe you go. Shit is shit, as Piku says in the movie. *

All this to say, I had an unusually perfect weekend, the kind that rarely comes together for someone who is as regularly isolated as I am. I did three amazing things in an effort to lift my spirits from the despair which the cruel state has deemed is our lot.

One: I joined a wonderful support group! Everything shared in it is confidential, so I will just say “Where have you all been all my life!?”

Two: I spent the weekend at the beach with some amazing ladies. We all have kids with disabilities, and had such a great camaraderie, which does not always happen. I had a hard time tearing myself away. But seeing all my beautiful family’s faces made it easy to come back to home life. A gave me such a sweet kiss. I cherish his kisses as the gifts they truly are.

Three: My delightful writing companions had a gathering on Zoom, and we all cried and cried at the joy of being briefly reunited. Emails of such sweetness were exchanged after.

I tell you, I have missed this floating feeling of being seen, and taking others in without reserve. Lack of Covid precautions makes it hard. Fascism makes performative community feel intolerable.

The way I can tell that everything was just what my soul needed was this: I did not feel even slightly drained. And I did not have that soiled feeling when we feel we overshared, and it usually turns out we did that because we were in misaligned company, and we were trying to be giving by sharing something vulnerable.

There was none of that. I had a golden weekend filled with people whose souls are on the same path as mine. Who suffer when others suffer. Who aren’t afraid to plunge into action, even if it feels insignificant in the face of tyranny. Imperfect we all may be, and I guarantee we will sometimes annoy one another, but the intention to refuse passivity is there in all of us.

For the first time in my life, I am okay with a lot of people not liking my path. Not just one of those pompous, declarative statements like “I don’t give a fuck what people think of me!” but actually at peace with putting my energy into projects and communities that are not holistically valued in the larger realm, and not wondering if I can cling onto a sense of still having a connection to whatever constitutes the mainstream.

The hilarious thing is this: some people have not liked me all this while. Haha, sob. And I was trying to repair with them. It hurt so badly when they did the weird and mean flex of showing me blatantly that I didn’t matter to them, and that my situation didn’t factor at all into their plans. And that I had shown more kindness to them than they ever planned to show me.

To be fair, I do remember from having a past life in mainstream world that it is like that. Jostling for relevance. Proving a lot of points. Cutting a swath through a crowd. Constantly getting messaging right. Positioning. Proximity to the powerful. Being the thinnest.

I want to be clear that a lot of these awful skills are still required in things like fundraising for G&z&. My efforts have taught me that much. I pray I never need financial help from acquaintances, because now I know how judgmental and cold hearted some of them can be.

It’s usually people who are already marginalized themselves who practice direct giving. It can place a great strain on demographics that already go without.

So today, I want to say this to better placed folks: Show up for our projects and endeavors. Don’t wait till someone is dead, and then show up in your prettiest white chikkankari kurta to cry at their wake.

Again, speaking to better placed folks: Can you not spare some funds every week? Give it without having to be reminded.

None of us are flawless. But you know what doesn’t deserve shaming? Putting out an ask for direct giving.

So here is mine. I hope you will make it a regular donation. This is a loving and thoughtful family whom I have come to know very well, and I send every dollar raised to them. My son and I also run a weekly bake sale to raise money for them.

https://chuffed.org/project/148714-education-for-mohammed-hope-for-gaza

We don’t plan on giving up. Please show up too.

This is how we fix what is broken in the world. We can take action. We can build trust and community. We can resolve not to add to the alienation of a people with our indifference.

We are who we have. And we are amazing.

Radha.

*”Piku” is a (mostly) Hindi movie starring Deepika Padukone and Amitabh Bachchan.