Reflections

I deserve a styrofoam cup.

by Esha Kode

Suddenly hit with a desperate urge to move my body and take a walk in the scorching Jersey heat, I was in search of some revitalization. In such times, I resort to my usual set of speeches and podcast episodes, so today’s lucky winner was this one.

In this speech, Simon Sinek, a bestselling author and motivational speaker, shares five life rules. The last rule revolved around the following story:

Some conference had invited an Under Secretary of Defense to give a speech. Considering that he is the Under Secretary, the conference organizers flew him in on business class, provided chauffeur services, escorted him as an honorary guest to the conference, and offered him coffee in a beautiful ceramic cup. A year later, the same man was invited to that same conference. The twist is, he was no longer the Under Secretary of Defense. This time, he flew himself to the conference in economy, hailed himself taxis to and from the hotel, walked himself to the conference hall, and got himself a coffee in a styrofoam cup.

The lesson he shared in his speech was:

“The ceramic cup was never meant for me. It was meant for the position I held. I deserve a styrofoam cup.”

I am by no means as important, and will never be, as an Under Secretary of Defense, but I resonated deeply with that lesson. I keep preaching to my parents that I don’t want to chase after money, fame, and power because I’m scared I’m going to get lost in that rat race and become an entitled prick. After all, no one deserves money, fame, and power. These are just superficial tokens of “wealth.”

You see, I had this realization at the ripe age of 17. I had won the state, national, and worldwide pageant titles and was officially the first-ever Miss Teen India Worldwide. I felt exhilarated for a few months, unstoppable even (but let’s be fr, who was even stopping me from anything to begin with?).

I was invited to this one event as a guest speaker. My Dad, my personal bodyguard at the time, and I had walked through the door and were immediately greeted with the event’s organizers. Some of the guests had even sweetly asked, “One selfie?” and others handed me their children to hold and snap a picture with. As we made our way into the hall and sat at the front table, a man much older than I was, greeted me with a, “Ma’am, would you like tea, coffee, or juice?” I turned to see if he was actually speaking to me or someone sitting behind me because why in the world was a man close to my father’s age, referring to me, a 17-year-old high schooler, with “Ma’am”? I had clearly forgotten that I was wearing a massive, shiny crown on my head and a sash that literally screamed, “SHE IS THE MISS TEEN INDIA WORLDWIDE! EVERYONE GIVE HER RESPECT!”

A couple hours into the event, I had to use the restroom. I took off my sash and crown and walked outside the hall and into the bathroom. As I was about to re-enter the hall, through the same side doors I had just walked out of, I was stopped and told, “No wristband. No entry.”

I was stunned and, frankly, embarrassed. Literally minutes before, I was bombarded with the “madams” and the selfie requests. Here I was now, being denied entry.

This situation had repeated itself multiple times at other events. I eventually came to the realization that all that respect, attention, and admiration was never for me — it was always for the crown and the title.

As Miss Teen India Worldwide, I’d be given coffee in a ceramic cup. As Esha Kode, I got my own coffee in a styrofoam cup.

This is why the pageant experience was so transformative. It’s easy to get sucked into the cycle and foolishly think that we deserve to be treated a certain way solely because we had somehow managed to accumulate material possessions. I learned at a young age that none of that matters. I don’t want to be known or cared for based on my societal position; I want to be loved for who I truly am, on the inside, without the titles, positions, degrees, and labels.

I understand that we don’t have to vehemently reject the desire to climb the societal ladder. If we do choose to climb, I think it’s important to do so by realizing that those markers are not a part of our identity — our identities are shaped by so much more. We have to recognize that all of those attributes can be taken away just as easily as they were given to us. Money comes and goes, and with that, so does respect, fame, and power.

So for my own mental peace and desire to live a cozy, fulfilling life, I just want my styrofoam cup.

i’m a reader now?

by Esha Kode

I was never the bookworm kid. Even when all the children were obsessed with books, I was never one of them. I was the movie/TV show buff. I’d love coming home just in time for my Disney and CW channel shows. I’d rush to pee during the commercial breaks (yes, remember those?) and aspired to be the Disney channel kids using their magic wands.

I was still a creative, obsessed with playing pretend-doctor and teacher games. And I loved being outdoors, wreaking havoc with my cousins. But I was absolutely never into books. In fact, there was a point in time when I was at a level M or something in reading, while the rest of my elementary school peers were at a Level X. My Dad would kindly suggest that I occasionally pick up a book, but I just never could fathom the idea of sitting and reading.

During COVID, however, the unthinkable happened: I started reading. I literally held books and read them from beginning to end. Truly shocking. In fact, these days I’ve resorted to reading instead of Netflixing before bed. What the hell is happening to me?

I give all the credit for my newfound love for reading to the one & only Khaled Hosseini, an Afghan-American physician and author, who wrote the incredible The Kite Runner. This book has singlehandedly changed my life. It cracked my heart open and made me weep and ruminate for days after I finished it.

Never did I think that a book, of all things, would teach me so much and impact me as deeply as this one did. That’s when I realized that the adults, like my all-time favorite 2nd grade teacher, Ms. Wahlgreen, who always articulated the importance of reading, may actually have a point. I never believed it when they said “reading builds empathy, creativity, and even an attention span.” People, I am here to tell you that ALL OF THAT IS TRUE. Trust me. As someone who has never once picked up a book for pleasure before her 23rd birthday, I can now attest to all of the benefits of reading. More importantly, I can now say that I am able to feel feelings that I didn’t think were possible until after having read a few books.

It’s wild that everything that we were told to do as children, but never wanted to do, is exactly what we want to do now as adults. I wish I could just sit in a cozy little corner of my home and read for hours, discovering as many lives as I can.

Since reading The Kite Runner, I’ve been on a mission to continue to dive into worlds, gain better cultural and worldly understanding, and care deeply for people through books. Some of them have made me laugh out loud (The Sweet Spot by Amy Peoppel is easy, wholesome, and fun), while others have made me want to sob for days (Hosseini’s other masterpiece, A Thousand Splendid Suns). I’m just shocked that reading has actually been influential in my life. You know I get excited to walk into a library now? Like, who am I?

During a time when much is happening domestically and globally, I feel like educating ourselves is how we stay in control, especially when many higher-ups are trying to censor crucial information. Books are a major way for us to stay connected, continue learning, and deeply care for each other regardless of who we are and where we come from.

So, sip your coffees, grab a book, and flip through the pages. Happy reading! 🙂

what is love?: [answered]

by Esha Kode

Ordinary love is the best kind of love ❣️

  1. “May our home be a place where people can accept themselves.”
  2. “We don’t hide behind each other. That we have our own identity and are at one with ourselves. That we’re not hiding behind another person or expecting them to fulfill what is important to us.”
  3. “Ordinary is extraordinary. If you think of your life, it’s the little things–the ordinary little things–that are very meaningful and you don’t forget them. Little kindnesses, little actions that you don’t expect to happen are the ordinary. And I think one of the most ordinary things that we humans are made to do is to be present and listen to each other. And I think it’s only when we stop that we see the extraordinary in the ordinary. When we really stop and feel and hear.”

my grandma turned 78 today. here’s what I learned from her.

by Esha Kode
This was taken nearly a decade ago. Clearly, the Kode siblings were not fans of the camera back in the day, but hey, at least you can see my very youthful looking granny in the back.

I was raised largely by my paternal grandmother (aka Nani), a woman whose presence defined my childhood in many ways. With both my parents working demanding IT jobs, leaving early in the morning and coming home just in time for dinner, it was my grandmother who got me all dolled up for school, made kickass chicken curry regularly, and played with me after school. All the adults in my life surely played their part in my upbringing, but it was my grandma who became my caregiver when my parents weren’t there.

Like with my parents, my relationship with Nani wasn’t always easy. As a kid, you tend to see your caregivers as superheroes, incredibly perfect. I held my grandmother to those same impossibly perfect standards. But as you grow and develop an identity that is independent from theirs, you realize they’re just people too, with their own flaws.

Everyone has a story, and those stories shape who we become. It can be difficult to hold space for someone’s story, especially when their actions haven’t always been kind. But after letting go of the anger I once held toward my grandmother, I can now, a decade later, carry her story with me. I see how her actions were deeply influenced by decades of adversity. Here’s what I’ve come to understand about her, and what her 78 years of life have taught me:

  1. My grandma was a single mother raising my father back in India during a time when divorce and single motherhood were heavily stigmatized. I’m sure my grandma (more than my grandpa) faced a lot of backlash, criticism, and unsolicited advice from those around her, yet she stood her ground and made a life for herself and her son. While she may not have been perfect, her resilience is something I deeply admire.
  2. Nani, a now 78 year old woman, was born 27 years before Roe v. Wade , and yet, she always firmly believed in a woman’s right to choose. 📢 I’ve met countless women her age, or even younger, who so vehemently deny a woman a right to live the way she wants to live in her own body. And then there’s my grandma, someone who was raised in a traditional Indian household. She was ahead of her time.
  3. Speaking of being ahead of her time, my grandma is also a fashionista who is always somehow up-to-date with the ever-changing fashion trends. I was the kid who would wear the same sweats and pair of UGG boots to school every day. Seeing my lack of fashion, Nani would say “Why don’t you wear those ripped jeans? Everyone’s wearing them now” or she’d advise that I part my hair to the side because “middle parts are out of fashion now.” Her love for style was, at the time, annoying. But now, looking back, it’s rather comical and cute.
  4. She’s also one of the bravest/strongest people I know—physically and mentally. Not only did she survive a tumultuous marriage and subsequent divorce, but she survived financial problems, the death of her parents, and even her rocky relationships with her siblings. She was also just insanely physically strong. She’d pop open pickle jars none of us could manage, and when there was a snake on our porch, she handled it with just a broom and battled it out – singlehandedly. I mean, ten-year-old Esha was mesmerized. I used to love falling asleep next to her, with her arm around my tummy, knowing that I’d be safe with her.
  5. I love Nani’s love for learning. She’s a tenth grade graduate from India. She’s always doing some crossword puzzle or word search book. Her English isn’t fluent, yet she bravely practices it with everyone from the lawn mower guy to the doctors to government officials, always willing to put herself out there. She’s even picked up new ways to do hair and skincare routines, finding joy in learning something new regularly.
  6. Childhood trauma is real folks. Its impacts are lifelong and my grandma is a testament to that. As Dr. Gabor Maté always says, our physical health is deeply linked with our mental health, and those who endure some sort of childhood trauma eventually become the adults with the autoimmune diseases, cancers, and other physical ailments because these conditions are the body’s way of responding to that trauma. Dr. Maté’s insights on how trauma manifests physically resonate deeply with me when I see her.

In many ways, my chaotic relationship with my grandmother has taught me one of life’s most important lessons: that love doesn’t require perfection. She’s shown me how to (and sometimes how not to) face challenges, to always keep learning, and to embrace life with courage. She’s given me so much to carry forward, and for that, I am forever grateful. Happy 78th birthday, Nani ❤️ Let’s chow down some wings tonight.

having a ‘Girl Dad’

by Esha Kode

As an Indian-American girl, my relationship with my parents has been a BUMPY rollercoaster ride, to say the least. In particular, my relationship with my father fluctuated greatly throughout the years. Despite having my differences with him, Papa Kode said something the other day that I will forever cherish.

A few weeks ago, I found out that one relative was shit talking me behind my back. It is almost impossible to keep things a secret in Indian families, so her words eventually reached my amazing ears. When I first heard what she had been yapping, I couldn’t help but laugh because a) none of it was true (obviously) and b) she stooped so low that it actually was purely comedic.

I responded to that in a rather impulsive and selfish way, but I wanted my Dad to know so I could gauge how he’d react. So, I casually dropped this news during lunch the other day and my dad was just in complete shock – he had no idea. I guess her words never reached him.

After intently listening to our gossip queen spill the tea, Papa Kode said the following words:

“I don’t care what these people think of you Esha Amma. I trust you, I know you, and that’s all that matters.”

#GirlDad.

Hearing Papa Kode say those words had my childhood self SCREAMING and BEAMING with happiness. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about what some lame desi auntie was saying, but I did give A LOT of shits about what my parents were thinking. Now, if my dad had chosen to believe that rando over me, then I would’ve simply cocooned into my cave and moved on with my life knowing that my parents don’t know anything about me. However, considering that he did not, in fact, choose a rando over me, made all the difference in helping me re-shift my childhood opinion of my own father.

You see, the reason why this is so groundbreakingly amazing is because our culture is hellbent on letting society dictate the way we view ourselves and approach the world. People pleasing is so deeply rooted in our culture that it’s not something that I can just teach my parents about – it’s something that they themselves have to be willing to see and understand. Therefore, when that auntie said “negative” things about our family, specifically the Indian daughter who’s utter purpose in life is supposedly to people please her entire existence, I thought the situation would unfold more as a dramatic Bollywood film. To my surprise, there was a major plot twist. For that, I am grateful and in fact, proud of Papa Kode for being a #GirlDad.

Let’s try to figure out what the phrase ‘Girl Dad’ even implies:

For starters, Fatherhood is not talked about nearly as much as Motherhood. We expect mothers to be mothers, so we don’t necessarily value the idea of motherhood as much as we probably should. On the other hand, when we think of a man, we don’t automatically equate his worth to his role as a father. In fact, when we see a man being a great dad, we’re almost taken aback, as if we’re collectively surprised that a father is….well, fathering. We revere fathers and downplay mothers, but I digress.

According to The Dad, here’s what being a ‘Girl Dad’ means:

“Being a girl dad is about working to make the world better for you girls…..There’s nothing we could teach to our sons that we can’t teach to our daughters, but there’s a lot that our daughters can teach us. We recognize the importance of raising strong, independent women. We also recognize that there are stigmas, stereotypes, and inequalities that exist that stand in the way of our daughters being whatever they want to be, and it’s our job to help knock those down.”

I do want to note that it’s also important that being a ‘Boy Dad’ is equally important because young boys are also suffering with the pressures that come with the idea of ‘being man enough.’ Just parenthood in general ya’ll….there are so many ways to screw us up. I digress again – apologies.

I want to end this by saying that I am proud of Nanna for being a kickass #GirlDad the other day. I hope that we can reach a point where all parents are rooting for all of their kids. I also hope that we as a society reach a point where we can offer support to all parents/caretakers/guardians to help them become emotionally mature adults so that they can raise emotionally mature children in a safe, nurturing environment.❣️

One Day….after-effects

by Esha Kode
Image Source: Netflix

There’s A LOT I wanna say about the incredible casting, the double-standards for women (and women of color) in the romantic genre, THE REPRESENTATION, the story, and much more. But, for right now, I wanna talk about a single part from the show that absolutely wrecked my soul.

For those of you who watched Ambika Mod and Leo Woodall’s One Day on Netflix, like many others, you must’ve been ruminating about the entire series for days afterward.

Same here.

My initial understanding of the show was that love is rarely ever grand. In fact, love is built on those small, consecutive moments of rawness and a solid base of friendship. It reminded all of us to screw up, make mistakes, learn from those mistakes / hold our people close, just say ‘i love you’ to the people who matter to you / it’s never too late to do something, it’s never too early to do something / our words matter / fame is just a source of external validation, chasing after it will create volatile lives / pain looks different for everyone / love is truly beautiful, and we are all worthy of it.

I got all of that from the show, but it’s what my therapist told me afterwards that totally shook my mind. She reminded me of the scene where Emma reads an excerpt from Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles to Dexter.

That excerpt essentially says:

We all have a birthday, a day in which we’re born. We tend to celebrate it every year because we know of the date and we may even know of the exact time that we were welcomed into this world.

We all also do have a deathday, a day in which we die. However, we never celebrate it because well….1) that’s morbid and 2) we have no idea when it is.

Thus, every single year, we stumble through our death day, and it remains “sly and unseen” intelligently masked by the rest of the ‘ordinary’ days. And yet, that same day that you spent in 2006 opening Christmas presents, in 2018 getting married, or in 2024 crying in the shower, might very well become your last day in this realm of the world.

That shook me.

This helped to give some sort of meaning to the cliché phrase “live each day to its fullest.” The reason to live each day to the fullest is because we have no idea if this day, today, is our “sly and unseen” death day that’s coming up in 5, 10, 15, 45 years. It’s just a normal day today, but it can become one of the most important days in the future.

Still ruminating about this while the show continues to tug at my heart…..

plane rides 🛩

by Esha Kode

In T-14 hours, I will be getting on a 30-hour plane ride. As I put aside clothes to wear for the plane ride this morning, I thought Damn, this plane ride is gonna be hell. My legs are going to be so crammed and my digestive system will go haywire and my back is gonna die. That thought led to me thinking about the notion of the classes on planes (ie, first-class, business-class, economy-class). What a world we live in.

Our modern world (and capitalist world) complicated something as simple as equality. Equality, in essence, is just treating every person equally, fairly, justly. There are so many faceted layers to equality, so let’s focus on money for now.

The idea of equality is so intertwined with money to the point where it feels sickening. Why does one person who can afford to or want to spend money on a business-class ticket get to spread their legs out, get better food, and recline as far as they can to sleep better, while another person, who either cannot afford the ticket or simply does not want to spend money on that ticket, need to force themselves to fit their legs in a 2 in. radius, receive shit food, and can’t even recline fully without being in the face of the passenger behind them?

I know it’s a stretch to wish for all people of all professions to be compensated fairly. Thus, my problem is more-so with the amenities that come with being rich. It’s kinda paradoxical no? When you’re rich, you can suddenly afford a whole bunch of things (ie, a first-class plane ticket) to maintain that richness. But when you’re poor, and potentially in a more dire state, your options are severely limited. Thus, the rich are continuously valued and made richer while the poor are devalued and made poorer. We’re literally going farther away from reaching equality.

the final coffee date.

by Esha Kode

Go read the final coffee date 🥺 Had a little coffee date with myself and penned down some thoughts.

Many of my coffee dates have told me to have a date with myself for my 50th date, so here I am: sitting in the comfort of a secluded area in my home, by myself, sipping on some warm coffee, and writing…..about myself.

This feels weird. It feels like a diary entry, but this diary entry will be public so do I say everything I want to say or do I sugarcoat it to make it more appealing for the ‘audience’? Do I ask myself the same questions I ask my other dates? Do I write in the third person (🙈)? Naturally, it’s uncomfortable to force myself to reflect and think deeply about myself; it’s easier to guide other people to talk about themselves.

Writing this 50th date also feels bittersweet. We hit 50 coffees 🥺. I know that this is my project and it doesn’t necessarily have to end here, but just the fact that I was able to stick with this for almost over 2 years and follow through with it makes me feel fulfilled and incredibly rejuvenated.

I guess ya’ll are diving into my world now? Welcome :>

Diving into the world of Esha Kode….

21st with the Bal Ashram Boys

by Esha Kode

A few hours into my birthday I receive a voice message from Laasya asking if I’d want to FaceTime the boys because they wanted to wish me for my birthday. Obviously I would never miss a chance to see their faces, let alone on my birthday, so we FaceTimed. 

I spoke with them until their phone died. They threw the phone around and shrieked, “Happy Birthday Didi!” Some sang ‘Kya Baat Ay’ for me; some chatted with Amma and Nanna; some used their puppy dog faces to ask me when I was coming back again; some asked me to cut a cake on camera. 

The most heartwarming part, though, was when ‘V’ virtually took me to the conference hall and connected the phone to the TV so that my entire face was displayed on the TV. That’s when I saw at least 30 kids sitting on the floor waving intensely at the camera and screaming, “Happy Birthday Esha Didi!!!” 

There was a humongous part of me that immediately thought What did I do to deserve this much love? Am I even worthy of it? But, then another part of me thought, They love you for you Esha. This is the kind of love that you’ve always wanted.

They made my birthday feel like the most epic day ever. I felt whole. 

21st Birthday!

by Esha Kode

I turned 21 two days ago.

As I started to respond to texts from my friends and answer phone calls from my relatives, I began to feel an overwhelming amount of love. On a typical birthday, I kinda breeze through the day doing the same thing I did 2 days ago – reply to texts & answer phone calls. However, this year felt different. I feel whole.

I finally reached the point in my life where I am actively creating and cherishing relationships with people who matter the most to me. I am so in tune with my energy and monitor how high or low it gets when I am around people. This has been helping so freaking much when it comes to cultivating ‘heart-squishing’ relationships.

2023 just feels life changing for some reason. I have this gut feeling that this is the year where I will fully step into myself and allow myself to be human – the good, the bad, and the ugly that comes with being human.

I want to make wholesome memories, be warm towards my loved ones, and pursue the dreams that I was once afraid of even dreaming of.

This is our year Aries. Let’s go.