I’m generally plugged in but I set aside some time every morning to catch up on the world - perusing big media outlets, alternative ones and social media. I try to get a mix, not just one or the prevailing view point. 

There is good news, but the constant intolerance, hate and inhumanity happening around the world all the time pains me. I don’t want to hear these stories. I don’t want to cry. But I don’t ignore it because it is the reality we live in and we cannot become numb to it. We live our lives but we must keep perspective. 

We are all closest to the issues and communities that we live in and of where we come from, it makes sense. It’s impossible to be plugged into and fight for every single cause. But we can certainly recognize when there is a “struggle” that demands our attention and aid as fellow humans. There’s no excuse for you not to be outraged by war or genocide of any group.

I am appalled at how little airtime and coverage the big outlets give to Palestinians, the Rohingya in Myanmar, the Uighurs in China, and others, some I’m sure I don’t even know about. I’m disappointed in social media censorship. It’s all a contrived money and power grab. I’ve always known these are the facts but it’s sad to see it play out. 

We get too caught up in religion and forcing our beliefs on others. Believe what you want to believe, why should it matter to someone else. My personal ethos is rooted in kindness and love. Don’t kill. Don’t steal. Be kind to yourself and others. The way we conduct ourselves, the empathy we have and the action we take to help others is what defines our existence. It is what categorizes us as good or bad. There are many ways to help - figure it out and do what you can. 

Do what is right.

Three years later and I’m back, reviving what was was once a lightly written in blog. 

I’ve thought about doing this for some time now. I’ve always found the idea of it appealing, however daunting it feels to me. I’ve never had the patience to journal. Often during the week I’ll get drawn into thoughts that I feel I want to write about and I make notes to come back to later. Then I always put it off. Because how could I ever truly get the entirety of my feelings and thoughts out in exactly the way I want them to be communicated? That dark pit of perfectionism, what an endless hole that is! 

But I like writing and it’s rewarding. It’s transformative and therapeutic. When I read back on some of what I’ve posted before, I am incredibly moved to be reminded of what it was like to be me at a certain time in a certain stage of my life. It’s a pretty amazing time capsule.

And the crossover with social, being able to share and connect with others, is rewarding as well. Over the years people have mentioned to me my posts about my mother when I least expect it, and it has truly blown me away how simple words can touch others in profound ways. Oddly, at the same time, I’ve always been scared of what other people think. Scared of myself, scared of my voice. I’ve often doubted the value of what I have to offer, subconsciously always with a ‘not good enough’ feeling. I’ve been trying to push myself past that. What I have to offer is me.

Here we are having almost completed 2020. A shit show. It has turned everything upside down and burned things to the ground in many ways, professionally and personally. I miss the nonstop travel, work on work, living on adrenaline, endless opportunity life. I have now grieved the loss of this life and I accept that it will likely not be the same. Because on the other end of this ordeal, I will be different. Time will have continued and I’ll be older. There’s been a lot of reflection and transformation this year.

So this is all to say, that here I am writing in this blog because I want to. There will be some recurring themes here:

• Life, death, grief, humanity, relationships, exploration of my mortality.

• Entrepreneurship, building a brand, managing a team and other business things.

• Community, culture and my South Asian American identity.

Sometimes I will write well. Sometimes it will be messy. This is a place for me to document, share and learn. To unpack whatever it is I want to. Some of it will be precious and some of it will be light. If you want to come along I’d be excited to have you on this journey. <3

Brain cancer took my mother a year and a half ago. Something I hold dear to my heart is her playful but genuine use of the word “wuv”. It was a favorite voicemail and email sign off of hers: wuv and peace. It really stuck out to me and it’s become how she lives in my mind. 

Today was the annual American Brain Tumor Association’s NYC 5k. Almost half a million dollars was raised for brain tumor research.

Last year I ran it as a (lonely) individual but this year a group of about 20 friends came together as a team, Team Nilofer. I made a red beanies with the word wuv on them, and seeing those red beanies on smiling faces doing this with me, really made today great.

In Paris last week, Tallia Storm asked me to take some photos of her. She's a young singer who got her start through Elton John and was in Paris performing at a designer's after party. It was her first time in Paris and she wanted to do a little something in the Eiffel Tour area. It's always nice doing shoots just for fun.

It's my mother's first death anniversary.

In the last 7 days was my sister's birthday and Mother's Day. I was told this would be a difficult time - that anniversaries and occasions would hit hard. I didn't think it would be any different than what it's been so far.

But I feel it.

I preface this by saying that I am overall happy. I am happy with this little hole. 

This is what my "difficult time" translates to: Over the course of the year the memories are remembered differently. Perspective changes as time passes. Triggers change. The memories lead immediately to a yearning, an insatiable longing for some sort of impossible earthly connection with her, anything at all. I can remember what she feels like, how she carried herself and how she looked at me. I can remember it all. But these memories keep getting further away. Recently there's a feeling I get when I think about her being dead for so long now which isn't actually so long, and that she'll be dead for the rest of my life. (People don't like the word 'dead' because it is jarring. But it's the word I use in my thoughts. It is real.) These WTF moments seem silly because these are facts that I have accepted and have known yet they still arrive, feel new and pierce. These ones feel as if it will be impossible to continue existing with this void forever. But I know that's not true and a moment later I'm back to being rational.

I am finally plunging into my passions and feel happy with where I am - it's taken me my whole life to get to this point -  and I find it makes me more sad about her and I miss her more. She was a safe space and I didn't understand how much comfort she gave me until she was gone. There's so much I talked to her about that has changed now. She would have been ecstatic to know.

The process of losing her and the process of learning to love myself is ongoing. In many ways the two are connected.

Experiencing her death has brought me closer to belief. Not traditional religion as it does for many, but belief in energy, spirit and dimensions. I believe in empathy, meditation, breath and wellness. 

I start my day with a large glass of water and meditation. I breathe deeply with intention and am in awe of breath and life. In the last year I have reflected heavily on what it means to be alive and lead a good life and I've decided to live a healthier life and make wellbeing a priority. Making this happen means consistently practicing mindfulness in thought and action by considering how I treat my body, the quality of my thoughts and how I make others feel. Some days it comes easy and some days it doesn't, but it always feels right.

I let myself feel everything. Feelings are good. I process then I turn them into progress.

One thing that's been on my mind a lot is how society responds to someone's experience of loss. It feels to me that people think that after a certain amount of time has passed that it's inappropriate to speak about it or that it will be a reminder. For me that's not true and I'm not sure it is for a lot of people. Why are these discussions shied away from? It should not be awkward or uncomfortable. We should talk about these things openly. I always think it's sweet when anyones brings up my mother or my experience.

I want to speak more about mental health and what I have learned through my experience. I want to make this a regular conversation in our community. There is so much to talk about and so many different perspectives to share. I have ideas and I'm working on something. So let's talk.

A year has passed. It feels like no time at all and all the time there ever was. I'll always have this little hole but I am forever traveling on.

“Be softer with you. You are a breathing thing. A memory to someone. A home to a life.” 

Nayirrah Waheed

Clearly it's all about the kids.

Some more of my thoughts in a fun little vlog:

In the last year, after launching HYFN, I've started to meet a lot more brown people. I met Negine early last year and think she has such a piercing yet quiet energy to her. On my last trip I spontaneously decided I wanted to shoot in the desert and it had to be with Negine.

I've always been interested in hearing about people's experiences and stories. And something I'm particularly interested in is getting to know the first and second generation brown community and hearing their version of what this shared experience is - ultimately understanding how we all experience, a little differently, being a brown immigrant in today's America.

I asked Negine to share something with me. This is what she said:

"One of my favorite phrases in Farsi is: نور چشم من (noor-e cheshm-e man). This translates as "Light of My Eyes". I've loved this saying ever since I was a child, especially when my grandmother or mom would say it to me. I love witnessing people exclaim it genuinely to the ones they care most for, as one only says it to someone that makes them shine. I use it as a reminder to keep doing the things that make me beam the brightest. I'm always on the hunt for what will make the fire in me burn the fiercest. And I'm gonna follow that light forever."

Now every time I visit Arizona (or any other place) I want to make a new connection and capture them with my camera.

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Today I did something that made me feel incredibly awkward but empowered at the same time. An experience that was a bit saddening.

I was in a car with three other people heading back to NYC from a job in Rhode Island - we had just traveled there together the night before. Coming off a trip to visit family and being at my mother's grave in Arizona a few days earlier, I'd been feeling a bit more unsettled than usual about missing her. I felt that I wanted to put on my headphones and just be in my own place for a bit. I truly was enjoying my time with them but I like to listen to when my mind and body speak to me. It was just something I felt.

So after struggling with whether I should or not, I decided to do it. Why shouldn't I? What's wrong that? I wasn't being obnoxious, I wasn't being anything but true to myself. I was spending too much time thinking about if I should or shouldn't. I took out my headphones, placed them in my lap and waited for a moment to announce my move because I felt it was better to say it then to just do it. So then I awkwardly say, "Hey guys I just wanna announce that I am going to put my headphones on." Realizing that what I had just said was unexplained and actually really awkward I substantiated it with, "nothing to do with you guys just sometimes I feel a lot about my mom and just need to be in a certain space." I felt uncomfortable, put my headphones on and that was that. But instead of feeling ok my thoughts were now shaded by worries about how I made them feel and if they thought I was being weird or rude. But why? Why should I feel this way? Why was I worrying? Why is it ok for people to feel so many other things and act on them but grief and sorrow are so misunderstood and not accepted as emotions to openly express? Why do I have to hide it or experience it in a way others feel comfortable?

I'm writing this with my headphones on in the car feeling this way because I feel it is wrong that I feel this way. Maybe I'm a being a little paranoid and sensitive but I do believe that a lot of it has to do with what society had deemed appropriate. No one has said anything directly to make me feel this way but somehow I have to think greatly about how I express my grief and to whom and when. I have received many strangle and odd responses upon revealing my emotions to people outside of "normal grieving" scenarios. And that is unfortunate. But what is done in a healthy, introspective and healing way should be embraced not shunned. Not considered weak.

That is all. That is why I am sharing this moment with you.