Get To Know Me

(Part 1)


If you had at all any curiosity as to who I might be, well my bondage to common courtesy would have expected you to introduce yourself first since you are the visitor, but that same common courtesy binds me to the quality of general politeness; and since we've agreed you are the guest, it would be rude of me not to tell you about myself. SO here's the deal, you get to know me, and I get to know you, and if that's disagreeable to you, well, stop reading here. And no there's no bargaining. I would not dare convert to espionage in order to satisfy this sinful curiosity if I were thou, because remember, if you have decided to read this far you have basically agreed to the conditions i have set beforehand which are technically punishable by law as of now. Jesus is watching you     (O.O) <--Jesus

For one and a half years I've been living in a surrogate home for incapable, incurable, inequitable children. The name of the institution is My Grandfather's Flat located in the suburb of Dadar, Mumbai. That's right, Mumbai, India. And where in what village or city or town had I been previously living? Mission Viejo, California, USA. Now to allow you to get a sense of the senses that I sense almost everyday, I should first reverse course and set sail to the days that once were before the days that are now.

Mission Viejo is one of those quaint suburbs of southern California full of free flying, life loving, genuinely good spirited people. Everyone might know everyone; or at least you'd recognize most of everyone if you simply took 10 steps from any point in any direction and attended a sermon at the local Catholic Church- St. Kilian's- where just about everyone goes to perform their weekly act of piety, and have been attending probably since the day the city was opened, circa maybe 30 years ago (who really cares)? Unless of course they are a Protestant. Or a Jew. Like Daniel Hellfeld. Anyways and otherwise, if you'd like to run into the other half of the city, you could always take a 15 minute ride on the opposite side of town and reach Saddleback Valley Church and meet the obnoxiously rambunctious side of Christianity, and the majority of the attractive ladies; young and not so young alike. Yes, we've got the lions pride here ;).

Honestly the population of the city has never been a concern to me unless for one reason or another I felt bored enough to guess the amount, such as now; which I would reckon (and no we ain't nunuh therm hicks) there to be around twenty five thousand families into an average of three individuals per family equaling about seventy five thousand? That most definitely isn't anywhere near the right amount. Alright...so you can see why I normally do not take the time to make estimates concerning the city. Anyways, from what I have OBSERVED rather than CALCULATED is that it is possible that anyone could recognize probably one out of every three people if they lived here for a month.

This is due to the fact that most of the youth have known each other at one point, during some point in their lives, and it's typically from places such as the few schools and their collaborative summer programs or the city's lake where we have all unconsciously had rendezvous with every one of our fellows. And I wouldn't be surprised if that goes for the parents as well, although it always seems that they are too ignorant (or just tightly wound) to notice each other unless they see the smoke signal from the exhaust of a neighbors new car.

The city itself is very beautiful, clean, and organized. Were just out of the reach of the pollution that seeps from the skies of nearby city of Irvine; a sort of LA in the making, so our skies are blue and fresh nearly all year round. There are many bushy hills that plot the terrain which naturally create divisions with their oblique green slopes which are filled in by the very few fresh black roads that intersect Mission Viejo. Those divisions become housing societies, or to use a more civilized term; communities. Several of these communities I believe I could go so far as to say are popular in the southern Orange County region and get a lot of attention from the neighboring cities' high school and college students. Such communities include those of Pacific Hills, Canyon Crest, Auburn Ridge, Stoneridge, and the Lake Houses; all very exquisite places with very nice people that deserve to live there. They are typically middle class communities, with the better of them such as those of Canyon Crest and Stoneridge occupying the upper middle class, and the Lake Houses (for so much as I could derive from the massive grandeur of exterior of the buildings whenever I take a boat out to go fishing at the lake) endeavoring to be accepted into the lower upper class. But class has no value in Mission Viejo, as we are all too entranced by our happiness with the Lake and soccer fields and churches and schools to make such an insignificant monumental conglomeration of wood, concrete, and plaster determine our outlook on society. Or at least it never influenced my opinion; that is until I moved to India and realized the truth of discrimination. But we'll come to that later.

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Something completely unrelated but highly relevant: My eyes are presently on fire thanks to fact that I am cooking with chillies and had not the presence of mind to wash my hands before wiping the stream of tears that were already provoked by the scores of onions I had rightly cut to pieces. Curse Italian's and their wonderfully tasty spaghetti! I believe I'll have to be breaking this into parts as autobio's tend to be annoyingly exhausting to attempt in one sitting; and that is only made more so true when you are temporary blinded.)