Promise Yourself

To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.
To talk health, happiness, and prosperity to every person you meet.

To make all your friends feel that there is something in them.
To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.

To think only the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.

To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile.

To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others.
To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud words but great deeds.
To live in faith that the whole world is on your side so long as you are true to the best that is in you.

— Christian D. Larson

Four years ago today, I thought my world was falling apart. I thought I was losing the best friend I would ever have. I thought I would be alone for the rest of my life.

Four years ago today, I never would have known that four years later I would have the best friendship of my life. I would have laughed at the thought of a friend who stood by my side through thick or thin for over a year.

Four years ago today, I had my parents and brother and they were all I could love. Four years later, I have a sister who I love just as much.

Four years ago today, Valentine's Day was a stupid holiday to remind me that I will never get the boy of my dreams. Four years later, Valentine's Day is a celebration of how stable I am with being single, because I have my best friend by my side.

Four years ago today, I was miserable.

Four years later, I'm as happy as ever.

I'm using the term "Saint" as a general term for human that is revered or worshiped.

At what point did mankind feel so lost that they had to invent religion? It's a question that has been studied for many years. In a semester long course, we weren't able to even skim the history of that topic. A question I always ask, which was never brought up in the course is: At what point did mankind feel so lost that they had to start believing in fellow human beings as God or saints?

In Hinduism, the framework of the religion lies in philosophy and achieving a certain mental state. All the prayers and worship done at temples and in Hindu households are based on mythology and traditions. There are those who believe the mythological characters walked the Earth, but for the most part, Hindus know these are fictional characters written about to teach lessons and help them reflect on their own lives. Similarly, the traditions are a way to manifest the philosophy into something more palpable. Of course, many of them are purely cultural.

In Buddhism, the framework again is philosophy. What I respect most about the religion is that Gauthama Buddha (the one who the world thinks invented the religion) merely brought awareness to the world about certain aspects of life. He took Hindu philosophies and added his own touch, and made others think more deeply about life. Every human being can be a buddha.

This brings me to my point(s):

1. Religion was an escape for humans to answer questions that they could not answer through empirical evidence. Inventing a God was a brilliant idea, as anything unexplainable could be attested to that higher power. Why then, was it necessary to start worshiping a human being who only has the powers every other human has? I understand saints have done many good deeds, but should not the people whom were directly affected be the only ones to worship those men and women? Generations later, people pray to saints and other humans as if they were God, without even knowing why that person was initially revered. I can guarantee you every single human being that has been worshiped has stories associated with him/her that are exaggerations of the truth. They are given magical powers they did not really have. This, in turn, has just made them yet another mythological character. So why then are people praying to the human still? In reality, they are again just praying to a manifestation of their imaginations.

2. If a person is to be revered so, let it be because they changed the face of humanity. Gauthama Buddha did just that. He changed the way of thinking of millions of people, rather than provide emotional/mental support through his own religious knowledge. I cannot really explain this argument in proper words.

3. What does it matter to me that people worship other people? It matters to me that people I know and love wouldn't just see the God in themselves. It's okay to imagine a higher power who reprimands you for actions you think are wrong and rewards you for good deeds, but why let another real person dictate that (directly or indirectly)? Why should someone else guide you in your beliefs? After all, they are your beliefs; they are your opinions. Not only that, every single person has a fault of their own. EVERY SINGLE ONE, including all of the holy saints.

That's where I stand as of now. Maybe after retirement when I have more time on my hands, I can revisit the "philosophy of religion" to better understand other views. I'm sorry if anything I said is offensive, and I'm always open to discourse on this subject.

***Please note that in order to avoid saying something I knew for sure would be offensive and to maintain some sort of scholasticism, I referenced Hinduism and Buddhism- two subjects I have studied extensively through college.***

I have so much to say about something so little, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. By Thursday, I'll probably have forgotten what they looked like and what even happened today. For right now, though, I cannot sleep and I cannot get it off my mind.

Matthew McFarlane posted on his Facebook that on his way to the gym he ran into the entire Lakers team. He posted the hotel where they were staying, and I saw this post 15 minutes later. I couldn't contain myself. For the first time in my life, a full 20 years of loving that team, we were finally in the same city. How could I pass up the opportunity, even if it was a one in a million chance, to meet them?

However, I am who I am- pessimistic and holding very low expectations. Yet, there was that small part of me that always remains optimistic who ended up asking my Matt what he thought. He said it would be worth the try. I asked Shashank to get a second opinion and he gave me what I needed to hear: I wasn't a true fan if I didn't go. So I went.

I drove myself to a posh part of Dallas at 10PM, got lost a little, paid $1.50 for parking, and entered the beautiful shopping area of the Crescent Hotel. The entire drive there, I was praying to God to give me this birthday present in exchange for what happened the night I tried to celebrate with friends. I prayed to let me, for once in my life, be lucky. As soon as I got upstairs from the parking lot, however, I was back to thinking this was all a huge mistake. After a few circles around the shopping complex, I found my way into the hotel lobby and immediately headed to the concierge to ask if I could get my parking validated, all the while disappointed that I missed the team already.

After a text update, though, Matt convinced me to try harder. I sat in the lobby for a few minutes when Frank Hamblen walked through the doors and said "HI" to me. It took me a minute to realize he was wearing a Lakers sweatsuit and to recognize him as an assistant coach. A minute was too late, as I chased after him but he was already up the elevator. Starting to feel like the concierge man was noticing my continued presence in the lobby, I walked through the hallway towards the ballroom and eventually I went up the elevator to the top floor of the hotel and creepily walked around, hoping to run into a player. No human being was present and realizing that I was being extremely creepy listening into rooms to hear voices, I went back to the elevators.

As I was walking back to the lobby I saw him, this tall handsome black man speaking with one of the gray haired men in the lobby whom I had walked in behind. As I approached them I realized it was Ron Artest. He looked GREAT. So I continued walking towards him, thinking he was wrapping his arms around the gray haired man and speaking with another man because they were also fans. I was definitely mistaken. Ron glanced at me 3 times as I kept walking behind him, calling his name, and ignored me completely.

As I continued to follow him forward I saw that golden glow they describe of angels. I saw my dreams coming true. My heart started pounding so hard, my hands were shaking so much, I couldn't control myself. Another tall man, whose head almost hit the top of the doorway was walking towards Ron, and by extension-me. It was Kobe Bryant. It was a HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO YOU, Meghana.

Of course, I didn't know what else to do but follow them and holler his name out. Except I had no voice to holler with. I wasn't screaming; I was embarrassed and timid. I just seemed like an ugly, creepy, stalker. And that's exactly what Kobe thought, I know it. The one day I didn't dress up this semester, was the day I saw the man of my dreams- and he ignored me because of it. No smile, no nothing. The security guy pushed me away lightly and said "Not now." when I tried to ask Kobe to sign my jersey. Nervously I asked if I could at least take pictures OF them. The guy said "No." immediately. My hand was shaking and I couldn't even get my phone camera to open. Why did I not bring my regular camera? I should have turned around my car the moment I realized I had left it on the counter on my way to the hotel. I emptied my mind of those thoughts, briefly, so I could yell after Kobe, still in a not-very-screaming voice: "C'mon Kobe, it's for my birthday! No love Kobe?"

All the snotty rich people sitting around the lobby stared at me. I realized that I had just made a complete fool of myself and started shaking more, and noticed the concierge man leaving his desk at this point. Scared that he was going to approach me to kick me out, I left immediately. I called Matt freaking out, trying to figure out how to control my shaking and emotions, when it started to hit me every thing I did wrong. I LOOKED LIKE SHIT. I DIDN'T BRING MY CAMERA. I should have sat in the lobby longer and waited because by that time I would have had my phone camera ready and could have taken pictures of Lamar or Pau or Derek Fisher or Bynum or anyone else who walked in. Phil Jackson might have taken pity on me as an old man looking at this young girl, you know, with the attention I seem to draw from old men (i.e. Frank acknowledging me). I DID NONE OF THAT, though.

Now I'm sitting here battling the urge to cry, but I don't know why I want to cry. I am so happy, but at the same time, I had imagined this happening in such a different way. All I can do is hope that I know the hotel on March 12; hope that I can go and try again. This time, with a little better preparation.