My days at the Brazilian army...

In Brazil, when you turn 18 you have to show up and enroll into the military service! That is unless you come from an influential family that can, over a phone call, dismiss the inconvenience. I had so many more interesting things to worry about when I was 17 than the proximity of this date... it was so distant from me and I knew, for sure, in my heart, that a phone call would be made and I would be excused from serving! After all, none of my friends did, nobody I knew did, this was something that belonged to a very blurred and distant world...

So, I had just being accepted in the Journalism University I wanted to attend in Rio, living by myself, having a dream of a life surrounded by great friends and beautiful places when I received a phone call from my mother saying I have received a letter from the army saying I had a week to show up and since I had already missed the official enrollment day that guaranteed a higher position within the army's rank, I had to enroll as the lowest type of soldier. I guess I still remember how it felt... me, standing there in the corridor, phone in one hand, probably gazing at the mirror that stood above the telephone's desk, looking at my own face and saying: I see... but we will do something about it, right? Like a phone call or something, right?

No. She said. No, your father thinks it is going to be very good for you, to go through it. It will turn you into a "real man".

That's when I realized that my father finally would have his revenge. Revenge from me having chosen the paths I chose that hardly resembled anything he had dreamt for "my life" seen through his perspective.

So there was nothing I could do. I had to go back to Recife, show up at the designated place and spend a year learning how to be a "real man", according to my father's idea of what a real man is... I can describe the mirror on top of the telephone's desk, the apartment in Rio, meters away from Ipanema's Beach, my delight in being by myself, leaving my own life, but I can't describe how I felt having to go back to my home town in the Northeast of Brazil to join the army!!! It was a black hole, a horrible joke from the Gods above blablabla...

The 34th battalion of the motorized cavalry was my posting. It is worth mentioning that I tried everything not to be accepted. During medical exams I insisted that I had plank feet, asthma, everything I could slightly suffered of was mentioned to Smiley -knowing- it- all- too- well Doctors who kept on passing me exam after exam...

As I mentioned before, because I had missed the deadline for applications, I lost the right I had to be in a higher rank, a rank that boys who have had a certain degree of studies would immediately be sent to. That meant that, as my grandmother brilliantly put it: If there was a war I would be sent first row, attacking the enemies and receiving the first bullets on my chest!

You would have to be Brazilian to fully understand the social and economical profile of my new best friends who looked at me as shocked and confused as I looked at them. Listen, can we talk? Let's be honest, this is my blog and I don't want to pretend this or that. We were simply from different Universes. The way we spoke, the way we dressed, the way we behaved, I was in a total state of shock. We usually had 4 minutes to eat our lunch that consisted on a type of scrambled eggs served in a tin plate and water also graced with scrambled eggs floating in it to drink.

I will give you a car, my father said in a, maybe, rampant of compassion and empathy, seeing me arriving home after 3 hours and 4 buses everyday, late for dinner. I could not look into his eyes, I knew that with a phone call he made, all would be over. I thought of my University in Rio, my plans for my life, all in jeopardy because of my father's revenge!

I did the best I could while in there but had the obsessive thought: I have to get out of here!! I have to get out of here. I also knew that sooner then later, the social differences, the unfairness of a system that allows some to have education, culture and possessions while keeping others way below the basic principles of decency would show it's face. Me representing one side and most of people around me representing the other. I could clearly see it coming. There were days spent with a tiny scissor having to remove the grass that was growing in between the cracks of a football field made out of concrete, under the noon's sun, sweat dripping on my forehead, drenching my shirt while another boy could not stop crying and saying: this is hell, sob, sob,sob, this is hell...

Yes, it was hell. A hell of a cliche from a war movie, something like platoon or any other where officers would look at your face and shout: Push ups! I remember doing push ups and thinking: Is it for real? Aren't these people aware that this is a bad movie?

Never mind my literary ambitions... by then I had already had some of my writings published on some newspapers and magazines... I thought all was lost, I was probably going to end this experience, a year later, so bruised and beaten that I would never be able to write anything again.

That was until I heard one of the sergeants informing us: We have too many people in this battalion. There is space for one person to leave, raise your hand if you do not want to be part of it.

WHAT? Did I hear it right? Raise your hand? Are you kidding???? I was already having deserter's thoughts and now, raise your hand??? I thought there was going to be a sea of hands being raised but no. Only mine. People looked at me and than down to the floor. I know this will sound a bit ridiculous but after weeks of being together I must confess there was a slight feeling of a bond starting to happen between myself and some of the other "interns". But now it was too late. Maybe it was becoming a metaphorical fight between myself and my father. I had to prove that I did not depend on him to shape up my future. I stood there with my hand raised.

Fairly well then! Only one... but there is something else. You, there. And he pointed to a very skinny boy, half my height, looking like a scared little mouse. You, we think you are not strong enough to be part of this experience... Oh no, I thought! Oh no!!!!!! Of course the little boy will seize the opportunity and run out of this hell as fast as possible.

Please, he said with tears in his eyes, please, don't do that to me. I want to develop a career here within the army, I am the older brother of a big family, my mother can't give us food, please don't send me home...

Silence once again, my heart beating so strong I was afraid they could all hear it. The Sergeant talked privately with another officer, they left us alone and 10 minutes later came back with the following decision:

We will have to go to court. You, he said pointing at me, you will have to defend your case, tell us why we should let you go and you, pointing to the small guy, will have to show us how much you really want to stay. You will have one week until the trial.

I did not say any of this at home. I started collecting articles and writings that I had written in School and the few that had being published.

The day of the trial came and I was confident! We were brought to a room where 7 or more officers were seated looking at the 2 of us. The boy hardly reached my shoulders in height and I knew it was not looking too good. I looked as if I had being fed by milk and steaks while him... oh gosh, I thought, I am doomed!!!

We both had our time, facing the "jury", trying to convince them. Me, why I had to go and him, why he had to stay. After the talk they brought us rifles. Very heavy machines. I simply picked mine up and have to confess, allowed a quick thought of killing all the men sitting in front of me with their colorless uniforms and lack of smiles. I bet they had no ammunition though. When I looked at the boy standing beside me I had to look again cause he was almost out of sight, crumbling down under the weight of the weapon. Oh, no!!! There was no doubts after that. Even I would have let him go myself were I part of the jury. But he begged and pleaded: I have no food at home, I want to grow here in the army, please give me a chance. And I? I told them: I feel I can be of better use to Brazil if I become a Journalist. I can serve my country through my writings! I have just started the University and had to stop it to be here.

They asked us both to, with the gun in our hands, go out in the sun and run 10 laps around the football field. I saw the small boy opening up a huge smile and I only understood why when, after the 2nd lap, while I was collapsing having a heart attack, my face as red as a tomato, he continued and continued and continued. It was as if he got his strength from the sun itself. Although I was practically being carried back to the hall where our Jury sat, I was so content with my defeat!!! I almost could not stand, out of breath and shaking while he stood up, like a victorious war hero's statue, holding his machine gun!

I was let go on that day. Not without a last attempt of guilt from a member of the jury: How will you feel when you are in Ipanema beach, looking at nice bottoms of the girls, knowing that this boy will be here in your place working hard under the sun? I had an impulse to answer that girl's bottoms would not be what I would really be interested in at Ipanema's beach but thought was wiser to say: Well, Sir, he wants to stay and I want to go so I guess it is a win/win situation, Sir!

I said goodbye to my battalion. I saw a couple of truly sad faces and one of the soldiers even said: What a shame... I thought we were going to be good friends. It is strange to write about it now cause a big part of me wanted so much to go out of there but there was a small piece that murmured: And what if... it was an unknown universe that still lingers inside of me in a space of possibilities that never really unfolded... I closed a door behind me but the curiosity about what would had been behind this door never ceased to exist.

I went back home this evening, changed into my bathing suit and headed straight to the beach, I jumped into the sea and thanked the Universe for giving me the power to shape my destiny. I also prayed for discrimination to choose wisely in the future. You never know in which packages the greatest gifts in life will be delivered at our door.

PS

The picture on this post is from my Dutch grandfather Henry, during the Second World War. He fought in the Pacific Islands against the Japanese occupation.

Maria... my daughter...

These days a lesbian friend of mine, after inviting me over for dinner, called me the next day to ask: Do you want to donate your sperm just so that me and my girlfriend can have a baby?

Gasp...

You see, she continued, we prefer to have it from somebody we know (sperm with a face) than having it from a stranger...

Well, not your usually phone call request, right? What would you say? That is, n case you were a sperm producing entity?

 I said I was honoured with the thought and then, not wanting to say yes or no in an impulse, said that I needed some time to reflect on it...

Truly, I swear to God, I never wanted to have children of my own. You know, it never crossed my mind and I never had the strong urge to "perpetuate" my genes... I just don't! If I ever had to have a child I would adopt, just to offer a human being a chance of having a life that would have the basic needs covered like food, education and hopefully love too... plus, from my then marriage, I had gained the unpredictable and marvellous gift of  2 children, from my then husband's former straight marriage. 

Then I realized that IF I said yes I would never be able to be JUST a sperm giver (not that I am very stingy with it at all) but I would never be able to sleep in peace again for the rest of my life knowing that, somewhere out there there would be a "mini me"... not to mention stealing from my family the chance of having another grandchild, nephew/niece, cousin... my life would be hell and the Lesbian couple's lives would also be hell because I would be a VERY present father!!! And I don't think that's what they were really going for.

I must say, though, that the sudden possibility rang some dormant bells that tickled my heart in a very funny way... I was certain I would say NO but I let the thought linger a bit longer within my soul just to feel this sensation of the possibility... it is such a beautiful possibility... and I kept discussing with myself, even using Biblical images to play the best role of a real Devil's advocate: C'mon, Marcello, i told myself, think of the sperm that is produced, induced, utilized for non pregnancy purposes on a very regular basis... would it really be so bad to say: OK, take it... good luck...?

but I could not, I know I could not know that "My baby" would be away from me!!!!

Maria. That would be her name... a week before I was asked, I had this dream: Myself and Christian, my then husband, adopting a baby and me saying that Maria would be her name...

I told it to the lesbian couple... they told me if they had a girl they would name her Maria! I did not say no as in N-O. but I said it, pretty much NO by expressing my thoughts on the matter... now I am a tiny bit tormented with the daughter I never had and the daughter I never thought I wanted to have...

Maria... my beautiful Maria... I hope you will come to this world, anyway, through sperm, heart, whatever... through 2 moms, 2 dads, whatever... in Spiritism they say that we all, as souls, choose where and from whom we want to be born... if it is true, than I hope Maria will be born close to me and I will be able to protect her as a God father, an uncle, whatever...I just hope, if this little soul that might have knocked at my subconscious mind's door gets to be born, we will be able to connect, somehow... Jung used to say: we are constantly meeting souls that have had past connections with us...

Anyway, sometimes life just happens like "this", its a blink, its a bump, and all metaphysical questions are just it: Metaphysical questions!

And just in case life is really pure mathematics and all this spiritism talk is just Mambo Jambo, I named my new digital camera MARIA LEIKA!

From the series: VIPEOPLE in my life...

Her name is Edna. Aunt Edna, since she is my grandmother's sister. She lost her daughter Ada 3 years ago. It was a very strenuous and sad battle against cancer.

The pain of loss was in no way diminished after this time, specially because Ada left behind 2 parrots who kept on screaming from the top of their lungs, day and night, for the past 3 years: ADA! ADA! ADA!!!!

The family decided the parrots had to go... hope Aunt Edna will recover from yet another loss...

My Birthday...

In the picture: Lublin, Myself and Fabs Maravilha in Sao Luiz do Maranhao, Brazil circa 2001

Do you know what a hologram is? Well, remember in star wars when Luke Skywalker sees princess lea for the first time? That was a holographic image... Ancient tantric yoga teaches us how to create holograms of the future as we want it to be shaped. The more detailed, the higher is the chance of it actually happening in your life. Didi Ananda Mitra (Susan Andrews), once, walking around the gardens at Parque Visao Futura told me: "Do you see these flowers, the trees, the color of the walls? Everything has being envisioned by me, every single detail long before I was able to start building the park"... When there was no money or support to build up the park ( that is now one of the most fascinating and transcending projects going on in Brazil) she worked from within, bringing it all closer to reality through the power of her visualization...

This is a fascinating subject and I am only talking about it because I received a beautiful Hologram from a friend. She projected how we would celebrate my birthday if she were here with me... while reading her words, so detailed about what we would do, how we would dance and laugh and cry, I lived almost as intensely as if it had really happened!

Thank you, Lubinha... and here I publish her hologram... in portuguese...

Marrrrrsssss!

40 anos!

Estou achando essa data tão boa!

Estou seguindo o caminho dos 40 BEM mais feliz do que quando estava no caminho dos 30... Tanta coisa pra fazer, a realização mais verdadeira começa agora.

Tô achando isso, tô sentindo isso.

Estarei com vc na festa. Vou chegar antes e ajudar com os preparativos. Levarei queijo coalho, tapioca e manteiga de garrafa. Vou colocar uma roupa incrível e vou dançar a noite toda. Vou tomar uma balinha com vc e vou ficar muito louca. Vou te abraçar, te beijar e dizer muitas vezes que eu te amo.

Vou te agradecer por tudo que nós já passamos juntos e por tudo que ainda passaremos juntos. Pelas noites insones em hoteis, pelas ressacas mal curadas, pelas lágrimas que já choramos juntos, pelas fofocas compartilhadas, pelos medos compartilhados, pela solidão compartilhada, pelos segredos de estado, pelas gargalhadas, pela cumplicidade, pelas bad trips, pelas good trips, pelos desentendimentos, pelas cenas bem interpretadas, pelas cenas mal interpretadas, pelo sim, pelo não, pelas mesmas piadas de sempre, pelo amor, pela amizade, pela irmandade.

Tudo isso eu vou te dizer já meio bêbada e vc vai me olhar e vai me abraçar e dizer: lublin!!!! E vou dormir exausta num sofá da sua casa. E vou acordar no meio da manhã com frio. E vou voltar a dormir com um cobertor. E vamos acordar a tarde e tomar uma chá bem quente. E depois sairemos pra brincar na neve. E voltaremos pra casa e prepararemos um curry vegetariano. E vc me contará sobre sua vida e eu lhe contarei sobre a minha. E falaremos mais besteiras e daremos mais risadas juntos. E nos despediremos no aeroporto. E vc dirá até logo, te encontro no Rio pra tomar uma água de coco, num fim de tarde em Ipanema. E continuaremos a conversar sob um sol de 40 graus.

Com muito amor, LUBLIN.

Now is agora!

Ruminar is to ruminate in Portuguese... presente is present, just a little letter added... passado is past... futuro is future... agora is now! How not to ruminate the past, how to write about Now and not about the future? Como nao ruminar o passado, escrever sobre o agora e nao sobre o futuro?

How do we say that in Japanese? Oh no, already catapulted my self not only to a place that is distant from where I am now, I also started to talk to you, the one who is reading... oh no!!! This was not supposed to be a dialogue at all, it was supposed to be a monologue. But now it is too late: I am explaining, seeing a number of faces that change features just like this Michael Jackson Video where one face morphs in to another... Who are they, these faces I see reading these words? There is a bald one... who are you? I don't mean in the present, who are you in my life, what do you represent and why do I project an image of you when i think of who might be reading these words?

I am just trying to tap on the essence of what I am... and not into the essence of this chameleon that reacts towards experiences that were part of my past, projections of my future, all staining the broad possibility of my Present... can't I become a baby that is constantly being born and experiencing things as for the first time? How would it feel If I were capable of, with only a deep breath, start to live in the plenitude of the present?

What would I feel now if I could shut a part of my heart that has been previously hurt and experienced love again just like I did when I was still so unaware of how much pain it could cause? Where did it go, that thing? That light, fresh thing I once tasted? Why is there such a scared cat occupying the space of a being that still wants to... explode with light? hahahaha... so fascinating... just because i did not have a very strong image to explain whatever depth I wanted to fake, I used the expression: Exploding in light. Yeah, Rule number one for pseudo writers of illusionary blogs that will never become anything else than a little scrapbook where 1 or 2 friends will, every 4 months, put some thumbs up, signifying that they did not even read it but are staying in touch through a little graphic icon on facebook:

"how to be very vague and disguise your lack of Vocabulary with esoteric terminologies".

I write and erase, or better saying: delete, right? Cause I can... it does feel like cheating a bit thou, can you imagine if we could just delete right away whatever we just said and wished we hadn't? Gosh, how about that for a Super-hero power? Yes, I want to start to create heroes that could be a little bit more useful to our modern, contemporary needs... Do you remember (Oh, here I go again, talking about the past... It is so fucking freaking comfortable to stay there in where things already happened and we know the end than to be in this terrifying PRESENT where only God knows what will happen next... earthquake anyone? A screw from a satellite, falling on your head, that exploded right above? A heart attack? ) anyway... I was saying: do you remember when somebody would ask which powers you would most like to have in case you were a super hero? You would always be stuck between 3 main powers: Flying, becoming invisible and... probably flying again...

If i could choose... hmmmm...

How useful would it be for me to eject spider webs out of my wrists and swing between the 4 stores high buildings of Copenhagen?

To fly? Too scared of heights, need to be inside of a machine, with my feet touching any type of ground just so I can pretend I am traveling by train just in case I panic, challenging my knowledge in Physics, trying to understand how can such heavy shit fly.

No, invisible is not really interesting either, I have access to where I want to go already and most of the time, in these modern days, being visible is the ultimate challenge anyway. No... but the power to delete what I have just said in case I am not happy with the outcome of what I have said? Oh Gosh... SUPERASE would be my name and housewives, lovers, partners, family members would scream out of their lungs, whenever they said something they regreted; SUPERAAAAAAAAASSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLP!!!!!!!!! And I would come, as fast as the trains in Copenhagen during the winter would allow me...

And just to prove that I am brave, that I am not writing just to prove anything to anyone i will not delete this silly posting.. Yeah, I am a Hero for that!

AYURVEDA FOR DUMMIES

By now, I guess almost everyone has at least heard this word: Ayurveda... It is Sanskrit. Ayus means life, Veda means science (as in knowledge). One of my works here in Copenhagen is to receive foreigners or new comers into our Sunrise School. This is a School that follows the Ayurvedic approach to eating. Believe me, if I had to explain about it some good 15 years ago, it would have been so much more difficult than now. Now, almost 80% of the people I talk about Ayurveda have an idea of what this is all about. Some even comment: Oh, I saw something about it in Larry King the other day...

Yes, it is all so simple. And complex! So, it is not enough to become a vegetarian only. There are many distinct groups within the classification of vegetarianism. There are the Vegetarians who eat dairy products and the ones who also include eggs in their diets. There are the ones who are very radical and do not consume anything that comes from an animal source (the vegans) and there are always the very flexible ones who "only eat white meat", or "real meat", just once in a while...

And... there is the Ayurvedic group!!! And what is the difference? Well, a person who follows a strict Ayurvedic Diet will have some difficulties in eating in Vegetarian places for 3 reasons, and I will name them: Onions, garlic and mushrooms... and you thought that cutting meat was the hardest thing...

The science of life, Ayurveda. There is so much beauty in reading any of the many ancient, and modern, books about this science and wisdom. My Grandmother always said: Bananas are gold in the morning, silver in the afternoon and stones in the evening. In a nutshell? Ayurveda! That's all there is to it. Some ages ago people were so in tune with their bodies and how it reacted whenever they ate something. It is said, and pardon me for not having an official source, that when sugar first made it's way into European Courts, it was almost a drug. Their bodies were so not used to "that thing" that the nobles would eat some of it and go into a type of stupor, tripping on the sweet stuff! And now??? How many spoons do we need to even taste it? My Grandmother died and with her some of the "old knowledge" died too, things that were never taught in Schools will also perish, or flourish, depending on which super star of the moment will adopt this or that religion and so on and so forth, bless their hearts for keeping it all alive and popular!

So, some food is good for you, some is bad and some, depending on the time of the day (like bananas and cucumbers) will be either beneficial or not.

The Ayurvedic system created names for each of these categories and that is when, if you are introduced to these strange names before getting acquainted with the notion behind it, you give up! They don't sound familiar at all, yes, Sanskrit, babe! Actually, officially, a dead language that has not being spoken for the past thousands of years but still is very much used to describe certain very refined concepts about life and Death.

So, now some hard core, old school, teaching, are you ready?

Tamasic: BAD BAD BAD!!! Food or substances that will have nothing positive to be said about!

Rajasic: IT DEPENDS (on where you are in the globe, which season of the year we are talking about and what time of the day it is).

And finally, the star of the show, the wonderful, one and only, LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, I Proudly announce to you...

SATVIC!!!! You can't go wrong here. Whatever you eat, that falls into the Satvic category, will not only benefit your body but your mind and, for those who believe, your souls too!!! Some examples of things (or shall I say elements) that are considered Satvic? Ok... WATER AND AIR! Yes! You can have it as much as you want, suuuureeeee!!!

Yes, water and air are satvic but there are many other things too: Certain grains, fruits, fruits, grains (not all of them) and some more vegetables and vegetables and fruits and grains!!! BUT; ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!!! NO mushrooms... If there is one vilain in the ayurvedic world (natural world that is, cause you could place number one in the list of TAMASIC stuff: Drugs and alcohol) this would be it: Mushrooms... they grow in the shades, no photosynthesis involved in the process, a fungus that will bring strange thoughts, create weird gases that will make you uneasy and thinking of unthinkable thoughts... yes, Lord Voldermort himself could be represented by an inauspicious mushroom!!! yes, we know, some of them have amazing nutritious values but Ayurveda is not only interested in your body. No, it also worries about your mind and, for the believers at the back row, your soul!

So, this was the easy part of the Philosophy. I mean, common sense, right? Most of it at least. We don't need no Ayurvedic Doctor telling us that a life of Drinking, smoking and tripping around will not lead anyone to a place in the sun. And before I continue, I have to say that this is my favorite aspect of it. It is not that some people will want to stop eating this or that right away but actually to go a deep further into the investigation of what will be my body and mind responses to certain foods? I have the obligation to know. I might want some onions in my tofu tonight but I will know that meditation will not be smooth next morning. And I will know why: Onion heats up the body so extremely that, according to Ayurveda, you should only eat if you find yourself trapped in a snow storm. Do we really need all this heat walking around in the office on a day to day bases? And how will this heat affect my mood on a continuous mode? Garlic? The best natural medicine we can have? The strongest antibiotics in the world? But what will be the point of it if I take it everyday in my life? Will it be effective? Of course not, try any antibiotic for more than a couple of months and it will be as good as nothing (plus, the inconvenient truth that it is banned from any pilot's diet before long flights since studies have shown that it slows down vital responses, brain wise!)

So... I like to know these things. I might not follow them 100% all the time but I like to be in control of my body and aware of what I put inside of it and Ayurveda has such a complete catalogue of different types of food and why and what and when that I am a huge fan of it!

Yeah, and we haven't even started to talk about the different types of people, according to Ayurveda... People that are categorized as having more AIR, EARTH OR FIRE and all possible combinations between those 3 elements and all the specific diet that each combination proposes (If you are a fiery person you do not want to ingest fuel all the time, right? You will probably benefit from cooling down a bit with certain herbs, etc). But it does take a good and serious Ayurvedic Doctor to really study your body, your habits and your whole life to come up with a customized diet that will only serve you and no one else but you! And this is another thing I love about it. There is not one body that will need exactly the same thing as another. We are such complex beings, and Ayruvedic medicine acknowledges that. Or do you think an Ayurvedic Doctor will tell an Eskimo not to eat a seal?

Well, just to end this piece (of what is totally up to the readers) I have to quote 2 very interesting people (interesting, to say the least) First was this fellow, you probably heard of him, a very smart, kind of wise guy called Einstein. Is he a genius? Did he change the way we see the world? Well, he said: I do not eat meat because I do not want my body to become a cemetery, holding within the carcasses of dead animals. But let's ignore it, right? Let's focus on more important things this man said such as the theory of relativity and other more complex stuff... Maybe he was not smart in every aspects of his life, right? Maybe he was actually pretty stupid when it came to his eating habits who knows?

The other one I want to quote was also a very controversial guy called Jesus, aka the saviour. I guess somebody said in the Bible that one day Jesus said: It is not what comes in your mouth that matters but what comes out of it!!! And I love it cause having said it all I must add that no matter how little onion you eat in your life, if you open your mouth and only unpleasant, negative and destructive stuff comes out of it, well... I will be happy to show you the way to the next garlic bar, oh, don't ask why, oh, don't ask why...

Miracles...

Yes, more than 20 years ago when I started my journey through meditation, vegetarianism, alternative life styles, India and Yoga, it was a drag to try to explain to anyone what it all meant. There was little written, little interested and Gym studios did not offer Yoga and health food shops were not trendy. Madonna hadn't discovered the joys of Yoga and the US was not in love with Deepak Chopra. I did have a HARD time with my family, looking at me as if I had just turned schizophrenic cause I started eating soy meat (that was pig's food in Brazil). One day my grandmother opened my bedroom door and caught me in my lungotas (type of Indian underwear for men) on a full "candle position". I did not blink, after all I had to hold this posture for 3 minutes but she carefully closed my door and quietly called my mother to say that she was very worried, that something was going on with myself and blablabla...

When i came back from my trip to India I found this same grandmother in a very difficult state, in a hospital bed, with tubes sticking out of her nose and she could hardly utter a word, she had had a stroke. I felt pity for her but I have to confess I had a shaky relationship with her during my teens so, after spending the official time for a visit, I got up to leave. That's when she reached out a hand... my mother and other people were in the same room, we were all surprised by the sudden and rather strong gesture. But even more so when she tried to say something... she was clearly trying to communicate... we all came closer to her bed, she was looking very intensely to me... I came even closer, held her hand and again she tried and this time we could understand: PRAY FOR ME... the voice was week, trembling but we all understood. I could not leave the room anymore... I stayed and in this same night she was taken to the Center for Intensive care, she had another stroke that would paralyze her, almost completely, for the next 8 to 9 years. I could not get over it: PRAY FOR ME. Why me??? The one who had terribly fights with her, the one who even once said, and I do not feel proud of it at all, that I would not shed one tear the day she died...

I asked the Doctors permission to go with her, to stay inside of the isolated area with her for a while... they had to discuss it since there were other people in different cubicles and the scene was not pleasant at all. But since I insisted and one of the Doctors was part of our family, they allowed me to. It was a horrible place, dark, many beds separated by screens with mechanical devices making sounds that added up to a bizarre symphony of mourns and heavy breathing from the other patients around. I was barely 18 but, recently arrived form India, must have given an exotic impression to the nurses and Doctors around me. I had a full grown beard, long hair and only wore Indian clothes, a lot of white long and light cotton shirts with big and white and light pants... I did not know what I was doing but I sat down, close to my grandmother, reached out for her hands. She had an amazingly tense look on her face, as if in pain. She is in a coma, the Doctors told me. She can't listen to anything you say. So... I just stayed there holding her hand and because the sound of suffering around us was so disturbing, I started to talk to her. Not really talk... I started to narrate... in a very detailed way, I started talking about a green field covered with sunflowers, a blue sky and butterflies of diverse colours flying around her... in this setting we were walking and she could feel the breeze on her face and the smell of the green grass underneath her feet...

I know... in a traditional tale of a self-help book this is when something amazing and unexpected happens, right? This would be the moment she would press my hand or open her eyes and smile... well... something did happen... that was not less strong nor life changing than any of the above mentioned scenarios...

There I was, holding her hand... the hand that held mine so many times crossing the streets in Rio de Janeiro when I was a kid... the hands that helped drying my hair, brought delicious food to me when I was sick... this hand was now inside of mine. I was the one holding it for a change... I must remind you that at one point in my life I thought I hated her. Or I did indeed... but, there and then, I remembered the love I once had for my grandmother... it was a profound love that for some years was totally blurred by feelings of rejection from my part, thinking she did not love me at all. I started crying, I tried to make it as soft as I could but I was sobbing, allowing my feelings of love for her to come up. I told her I loved her and it felt as if a heavy stone was all of a sudden lifted off my chest...

Now, the following sentence will raise some cynical and tough eyebrows just because it will sound as if I am saving a punch line for the end but, sorry, this is a 100% narration of what happened this day at the Hospital. It was her expression... it wasn't tense as it was before. When I first arrived there was a thick division on her forehead, as when we have a headache and we frown. Now, it was gone... she looked very peaceful and relaxed. I continued coming back there cause no one on earth could convince me that she was not listening to some of the things I was talking to her. I had to go away again, I was not living in my home town anymore, I had to go... she came out of the coma and was transferred home, where she lived, totally depending on machines and nurses for the next 9 years. Whenever I visited home I would sit beside her bed (she had her eyes open, could move her neck and one of her arms but could not walk, speak nor eat - she received a special fluid through her arm), I would get a mini electronic organ we had at home and would simply sing mantras for hours... from time to time I would ask her... do you want me to stop? And she would softly shake her head negatively. We had many quality times there together. And now, looking back , I simply realize that maybe these were the most beautiful and loving times we ever spent together... When she passed away I was not home... I am glad she died at home, in her bedroom, surrounded by familiar faces... and when I heard she had passed away... I cried. And I still do, from time to time, when I think of that day in the Hospital when my heart opened up again for her...