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I was stuck in this shithole now, what was I gonna do? I was in over my head in a situation that involved too much ego and little heart. How was I gonna solve this issue now? I sat in my concrete cell, wrapped in my itchy wool blanket and thought. I thought and thought days on end. What happens if I get to stay here for years? What am I gonna do then? My father, being the neurotic person he is, will surely die of some sort of attack. I can’t let that happen. Is this really my life? What did I ever do to deserve this? Well, kabbalists would say that I had a certain karma to resolve. And so I did. But the problem was, I had no idea what the balance on my karmic account was? I felt like a victim of destiny. I felt like life had donde me wrong. I had done nothing but make an effort, I had done nothing but work hard and try to accomplish. What was so wrong with that? I was in absolute victim mode. I spent days on end crying my eyes out at my unfortunate destiny until one morning I was bored to tears. I saw a guard staring at me from outside my cell with a blank expression. It seemed she had seen this a thousand times before. She looked at me and smiled. I suddenly realized self pity was getting me nowhere. That smile made me realize I could actually have any experience I wanted. I could shift the energy around me to benefit my own future. I had never aspired to becoming a victim, I had always thought of myself more as a hero. And heroes don’t cry, they especially don’t cry like little bitches. And at that precise moment, everything changed. A voice inside me said, smile and keep walking Cantina. You’ll get over this. And so I did. I started smiling at the guard that kicked my feet at 5am. I started smiling at the lady that gave me my morning bread and chai. I started smiling at anyone I saw or made eye contact with. I walked around smiling, and got familiar with my surroundings. I found the store which sold basic items like, colored pencils, paper, water, soap, toothpaste and an Indian version of chips. No candy. Actually sugar was not allowed inside the jail gates. I guess you wouldn’t want a bunch of murderers on a sugar high in a confined space, right? I agreed. I tried to get water but was informed in sign language I could not get any. I walked back to my cell and started trying to figure out how to get a bottle of water. Is it on account? How does one pay for stuff in here if one cannot have any dinero? So I set out to ask around how the system worked. Dr. Bahvna slept in the cell next to mine. She knew her way around, apparently it wasn’t the first time she visited Tihar jail. She was a leader of sorts. She was in charge of several tasks, organizing the inmates for cleaning chores and calling the name of the released every night in the courtyard. I knew she would help me get familiar with the place. I walked over to her cell and found her on the ground listening to the radio. A Hindi song played loudly. Good God, they like their volumes high in India. The song played so loud and distorted I couldn’t help but react to it by doing a little Hindi eye dance. Dr. Bhavna instantly started laughing. I knew I had made a friend.