On the recent six-month death anniversary of broadcast journalist Ravi Kant and father of Brown Girl Trisha Arora, we republish this post from her blog, DareToBeDifferent. We continue to keep her family in our prayers and thoughts.
As most of you know, the past month or so has been the absolute worst time of my life. I lost my father on August 22, 2014. He went into cardiac arrest in his sleep at his apartment in Kentucky and was later found dead that afternoon.
The reason I want to share my story with you is because this is my way of getting all my emotions out in one place, as well as, to answer any questions family members or friends may have.
We had no idea there was anything wrong. I was casually sitting on the couch in my pajamas, eating ice cream out of the container and watching the movie “Pardes” on Zee TV. My dad and I usually spoke daily around noon time, but that day he did not answer my calls or texts. I figured he was in a meeting, although I was worried because I knew he wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t think too much of it. I did think to myself that he would usually text me even if he was busy, but this time, I figured he had his reasons.
A friend who knew my dad in Kentucky messaged me saying that he found out my dad was really sick, and that is when the doorbell rang.
A police officer was at my door. He asked me if this was Ravi Kant’s house and if I was his daughter then asked to come in, ” What happened? I’ve been trying to call all day! Is he alright? Please say something!”
I’m sorry to inform you that he’s passed away.”
In that one moment, my life shattered into a million pieces. I fell to the floor and screamed for my mom, who was sleeping. It obviously wasn’t the best way for me to break the news to her, but I wasn’t in my senses. I asked the police officer to confirm the news with the police station in Kentucky because I was positive he was lying. I thought to myself, my dad could have been in the hospital in critical condition for some reason, but he couldn’t be gone. He can’t leave me. His life LITERALLY revolved around me, everyone knew that. God couldn’t take him from me. God could never be that cruel. But, unfortunately, the officer was right. My dad was gone. Just like that.
My mom and I had both spoken to him the night before and everything seemed perfectly fine. He spoke to my mom who wasn’t feeling well and said, ” Don’t worry just take your medicine and go to sleep, I’m going to bed too, it’s been a long day.”
He left his store that night and seemed fine, except he was out of breath and his face was red. He told his employees that he was going home to take his heart medication and that he would be back at the store in the morning to get some work done. The next morning when he did not show up and did not respond to anyone’s calls or messages, his employees sent someone to check his apartment. That’s when they called the police and found him in bed and clearly not alive.
I snapped out of panic mode, stopped crying and called our closest relatives and friends right away, who rushed over. Within 2-hours, our entire street was practically blocked off because of everyone who came by. My mother and I are truly blessed to have so many people in our lives who genuinely care about us, and who cared about my dad.
The officer then confirmed my father passed away due to natural causes, more specifically a cardiac arrest. I knew he was seeing the cardiologist a lot, but every time my mother and I asked what was going on, he said it wasn’t anything too serious. He said something came out a little odd in the tests, so they were just double checking everything. We took his word for it, considering the fact that he was an EMT for years and was extremely health conscious.
I’m going to end this here before I start crying. The rest of the story will be in part two, when I am up for writing it. But until then, if you and your families can take anything from my experience, then please tell your loved ones you love them every single day. I don’t regret anything because my dad and I said “I love you” every single time we spoke.
To anyone with health related problems: PLEASE share what’s going on with your family. You never know what can happen and it’s always best to keep your loved ones informed rather than shocking them like my dad did. He had his reasons. He didn’t want to worry us and he didn’t think it was that serious. I really do wish my dad told us what was going on before it was too late. Honestly speaking, I don’t even think my father had the slightest idea that he wouldn’t be waking up the next morning. Life works in strange ways and whether you’re ready for it or not, it constantly changes.
As for my mother and I, we are hanging in there. We are putting our brave faces on and are heading back into the world and back into our normal routines (or at least as normal as things can get now) stronger than ever.
Part 2 of “The Day I Lost My Best Friend and Father Ravi Kant”:
These past few months have been an absolute roller coaster. Everyone is telling me they admire how strong I am, but they don’t realize that I don’t have a choice.
They tell me not to cry, yet they are the ones crying.
They tell me I can get through this yet they are referring to my mom and I as a bechari, translated to ‘poor thing’ from Hindi.
They tell me my dad will always be with me, yet they talk about how my dad left me alone.
I am told that I have to take care of my mom and be the “man of the house,” yet they tell me that I am a child and I don’t know anything.
In a world and culture where elders are respected and openly voice their opinions, you can’t really say much back. You realize how hypocritical people are when you are put in a similar position to what I am in.
At the end of the day, your loved ones want the best for you, but you need to think for yourself.
People are telling me to cry, not to cry, be strong, remember my dad, make him proud, take care of my mom and so many other things. Some keep bringing up the fact that my dad is gone. Others act as if he never left. It’s not an easy situation to be in.
What does one do when they’re given advice from opposite ends of the spectrum? I guess, it’s best to just listen through one ear and out the other. What I’ve realized ever since my dad passed away is that all that should matter to me is, what my dad would want and what’s best for my mom and I. Not to say I don’t appreciate everyone’s love and support, but it’s impossible to take every single person’s advice.
I don’t sit at home and cry. Yes, there are times when I miss my dad and end up crying. There are times when I feel like the world around me is crashing down and I have no way to escape. But I always pick myself up. People die and loved ones leave you, but LIFE GOES ON. The world will not stop moving because I lost my father and I for one don’t want to get left behind.
People are telling my mom that she can’t wear red and orange nowbbecause she’s a widow. I tell her to rock those colors in front of those people on purpose. Just because she lost her husband, and I lost my father, doesn’t mean we have lost our right to be happy. I hate how in traditional Indian society, a woman’s life revolves around her husband. My mom is her own person. Yes, she was my father’s wife and the mother of his child, but those are not the only titles she holds. She is a hardworking, strong and fun-loving woman and NO ONE is allowed to tell her otherwise. If they do, they need to come deal with me first. It’s not the end of the world. LIFE GOES ON, whether you like it or not.
After speaking to a girl named Jassi on Twitter, who lost her father last month, as well as a few friends who have lost loved ones throughout the past few months, I realized I am not alone. And to anyone else who recently lost a loved one, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. You are stronger than people may think and your loved ones will always be there to talk when you need them.
I will forever be my dad’s sher putt and no one can tell me otherwise.
NAKED: The Honest Musings of 2 Brown Women was born in the autumn of 2018, when Mimi Mutesa and Selvi M. Bunce began sharing their poetry collections. It was scary, beautiful, and terrifying when they decided to trust each other with their most intimate thoughts. Not only did they feel relieved after doing so, but Selvi and Mimi also felt more seen as women of color. They embarked on their publication journey, so others may feel as seen as they did on that fateful autumn.
“Ingrown Hair” deals with the themes of societal and family pressures that are reflected throughout NAKED. Mimi and Selvi have always written for themselves. They see poetry as an outlet, and their poems exemplify their personal frustration and vulnerability. “Ingrown Hair” speaks to Selvi’s experience with the societal pressures of South Asian women, such as getting married, being a good wife, becoming a good mother, and leading a certain kind of life.
There is something strange beneath my skin
telling me to build a house,
make a home,
mother children.
I am not sure how to reconcile it.
My mother was strong
and a mother after all.
My philosophy has been to spend my time
on myself and the world.
I have always thought
I could simply address the thing under my skin
when it finally crawled out.
But when my family starts guessing
who will get married first, and my father
has been saving wedding money for years,
I begin to wonder
if I will have to pluck it out.
The opinions expressed by the guest writer/blogger and those providing comments are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Brown Girl Magazine, Inc., or any employee thereof. Brown Girl Magazine is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the guest writer/bloggers. This work is the opinion of the blogger. It is not the intention of Brown Girl Magazine to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual. If you’d like to submit a guest post, please follow the guidelines we’ve set forth here.
I organize play dates for my children. They’re friendships remind me of when I was younger when Fridays were consistently set aside for my friends. Now, it seems play is indeed meant for childhood and work is for aging adults. We often can’t find time for ourselves, let alone our friends, who are busy working mothers like ourselves. Or we moved into unreachable corners of this globe, far away from any means of physical communication. It’s fair to say, it’s hard to stay close to friends like when we were in college. Nowadays, it’s easier to travel, but more difficult to bond with others. “My Friend” asserts that we should not end let our friendships fall by the wayside. Even with physical distance and conflicting schedules, we keep our friendships close with kind words on phone calls, regular FaceTime calls, or even encouraging social media comments. Friendship doesn’t end once we become adults.
The opinions expressed by the guest writer/blogger and those providing comments are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Brown Girl Magazine, Inc., or any employee thereof. Brown Girl Magazine is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the guest writer/bloggers. This work is the opinion of the blogger. It is not the intention of Brown Girl Magazine to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual. If you’d like to submit a guest post, please follow the guidelines we’ve set forth here.
In celebration of Kirthana Ramisetthi’s second novel “Advika and the Hollywood Wives,” BGM literary editor Nimarta Narang is publishing this short story by the acclaimed author. This piece chronicles the evolution of a writer’s life through their ever-changing author’s bio. In the details, from the change in last name to the new address, we observe how Gigi grows into Genevieve and the life events that make her into the writer she becomes.
“My Picnic,” published in the Oakwood Elementary Storytime Scrapbook
Gigi Maguire loves strawberries, “Smurfs,” and being a first grader. Her favorite word is ‘hooray.’ This is her first short story.
“Sunshine Day,”published in Oakwood Elementary KidTale
Gigi Maguire is a fifth grader in Ms. Troll’s class. She loves writing stories more than anything in the whole world, except for peanut butter.
“What Rhymes with Witch?,” published in BeezKneez.com
Gigi Maguire is a high school junior living in the Bay Area. Her favorite writers are Sylvia Plath and J.K. Rowling. If she can’t attend Hogwarts, she’ll settle for Sarah Lawrence or NYU.
“On Her 21st Birthday,” published in LitEnds
Gigi Laurene Maguire is a writer and recent graduate from Sarah Lawrence College. Her favorite writers are Sylvia Plath, Alice Munro, and Mahatma Gandhi. She is making her big move to New York City in the fall.
“Valentine’s Day in a Can,” published in Writerly
Gigi Laurene Maguire is a freelance writer who loves the written word, Ireland in springtime, and “La Vie En Rose.” She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey.
“Unspoken Ballads of Literal Heartbreak,” published in Weau Dunque Review
Gigi Laurene Maguire is an assistant editor at ScienceLife.com. Her work has appeared in Writerly and is forthcoming in Pancake House and Schooner’s Weekly. She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey.
“The Mistress of Self-Loathing,” published in Story Day
Gigi L. Maguire is the editor-in-chief of Small Business Weekly. Her work has appeared Writerly, Story Day, Pancake House, and Schooner’s Weekly. She’s currently working on a novel about witches. She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey, with her tabby cat Sabrina.
“The Distance in Your Eyes,” published in The Canton Review
Gigi L. Maguire is a freelance writer and digital marketing specialist. Her work has appeared in Writerly, Story Day, and is forthcoming in Idaho Centennial. She’s working on a novel and a short story collection. She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey.
“Auspicious,” published in BookWorks
Genevieve L. Maguire’s work appears or will appear in The Canton Review, Mark’s End, Bishop Quarterly, and Idaho Centennial. A second runner-up for the Imelda Granteaux Award for Fiction, she is writing a novel and a memoir. Genevieve lives in Brooklyn.
“Meditate, Mediate,” published in Ripcord
Genevieve L. Maguire’s fiction appears or will appear in BookWorks, The Canton Review, Berkeley Standard, and elsewhere. A graduate of Sarah Lawrence College, she is an MFA candidate at New York University. She lives in Brooklyn with her boyfriend and their two cats.
“Chaat & Chew,” published in The Carnegie Review
Genevieve L. Maguire’s fiction appears in Ploughshares, Ripcord, The Cambridge Review, and elsewhere. She received her master’s in creative writing from New York University. Her short story “Meditate, Mediate” has been optioned by Academy Award nominee Janet De La Mer’s production company, Femme! Productions. She lives in Brooklyn with her fiancé, their three cats, and a non-singing canary.
“Urdhva Hastasana Under a Banyan Tree” published in The Paris Review
Genevieve Maguire-Mehta’s fiction has been hailed as “breathtakingly lyrical” by Margaret Atwood. She is the recipient of the Whiting Prize for Short Fiction and an Ivy Fellow. Her fiction has appeared in The Carnegie Review, Ploughshares, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband Manoj in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
“Reaching New (Jackson) Heights,” performed by Lana Del Rey on NPR’s “Shorts” series
Genevieve Maguire-Mehta’s fiction has been hailed as “effervescent” by Alice Munro and “breathtakingly lyrical” by Margaret Atwood. She is the recipient of the Whiting Prize for Short Fiction and an Ivy Fellow. Her work appears or has appeared in The Paris Review,Elle, The Carnegie Review, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband in Park Slope, Brooklyn with their feisty menagerie of animals.
“The Bhagavad Gina,” published in The New Yorker
Genevieve Maguire-Mehta is the recipient of the Whiting Prize of Short Fiction and is a McClennen Arts Colony scholar. Her work appears or has appeared in The Paris Review,Elle, and elsewhere. She is currently working on a novel. She lives with her husband and daughter in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
“When Two Becomes None,” published in American Quarterly
Genevieve Maguire’s writing has received dozens of accolades, most recently the Luciana Vowel Prize for Female Fiction. Praised by Alice Munro as “effervescent,” her work has appeared in more than twenty publications, including The New Yorker, and The Paris Review. She lives with her daughter Priyanka in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
“The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path,” published by Capricorn Rising Press
Genevieve Maguire is an award-winning writer whose work has appeared in more than thirty publications, including The New Yorker and The Paris Review. She lives with her daughter in a 100-year-old farmhouse in Woodstock, New York. “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path” is her first novel. Visit her website at genevievemagauthor.com.
“Hairy Arms and Coconut Oil,” published in MotherReader
Genevieve MaguireDunblatt is a novelist, homeopath, and part-time yoga instructor. She has seen her critically-acclaimed short stories published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband Benji and daughter Priyanka in Jacksonville, Florida.
“Priya Pinker’s Mother Gets a Life,” published by Capricorn Rising Press
Genevieve M.Dunblatt is the author of two novels, including “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path.” An aura reader, faith healer, and yoga instructor, she has seen her critically-acclaimed short stories published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband in Jacksonville, Florida. Visit genevieveauthormag.com to learn more about her writing, and genevieveauthormag.com/hearthappy for her wellness services.
“Comma, Coma,” published in Read-A-Day Journal
Genevieve Maguire is the author of “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path” and “Priya Pinker’s Mother Gets a Life.” She has seen her critically-acclaimed short stories published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, and elsewhere. Alice Munro has called her writing “effervescent.” She lives in Jacksonville, Florida.
“Next Stop New York,” published in The Lunar Reader
Genevieve Maguire is the author of “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path” and “Priya Pinker’s Mother Gets a Life.” She lives in New Jersey.
