February 28, 2023 • 35 mins
In this final episode, Mangesh makes some trips to an old family home, a seaside town in South Goa, and visits with a Tantric astrologer (it's not what you think!), as he tries to get closure.
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Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:10):
Morning. The following episode includes tantric astrology, station Wagons, a
go in folk song, the PBS Kids Show, Arthur, the
scattering of ashes, backscratches, and coming to term with the
father's passing. Sensitive listeners, please take care. This is Peter Kaplan,
(00:33):
the legendary editor at the New York Observer. Editors were
like movie directors, and they work with the writers. He
had this old piece of advice that I think about
a lot. When one of his writers was struggling with
writer's block. Ke'd say, take out all your material and
write a beginning, and then another and another, and keep going,
(00:55):
and pretty soon you'll have this page full of beginnings.
Even if that doesn't lead you where you want to go,
you can step back and admire it and think, isn't
that a beautiful thing? I've always loved that image. A
bouquet full of beginnings promises paths to explore, and I
(01:19):
wonder does it work the same for endings from Kaleidoscope
and I Heeart podcast. I'm Mongish Articular. This is Skyline Drive,
(02:13):
chapter one, car Rides. This is me on my last
full day in India. I've been in the car since
four am and I couldn't sleep the night before from
(02:34):
sheer excitement. In Chennai. Mark said, I wouldn't find the
resolution I needed in astrology. I wasn't going to soothe
my heart ache with a reading or find direction and prophecies.
The thing is, I was still clinging desperately to this
idea of making a joyous astrology show and ignoring my emotions.
(02:54):
He said I needed something else. He said, you need
to go to that home. And I knew what he meant.
Somewhere along our trip I had told him about Gin House,
an old family home tucked away in Hobley, a town
in the southern state of Carnatica. As a kid, I
spent so many summers there, playing badminton on the lawn,
(03:15):
reading on the verandah, dipping my toes in the well
out back, and just soaking in all this love and
attention that my relatives there gave me. Until I was
in my teens, I thought gin House got the name
because of all the warmth and entertaining and celebrating that
took place there. But the gin actually referred to the
cotton gins and working mills in the back. But this
(03:37):
house and the grounds wasn't just a wondrous place for
me to spend my summer days running around and exploring.
The house was a life raft for both my grandfather
and my father when each of them was at sea.
When my grandfather lost his businesses in his old age,
this is where he picked himself up and focused on
his writing. When my father had failed out of college
(04:00):
just fifteen, this is where his aunt pleaded for him
to be sent to be given one more chance. So
he came, and he flourished, and it was just as
magical and transformative for him. It's where he stood third
in all university exam and learned woodworking, and swam in
the giant water tank out back, and embraced his cousins
(04:21):
like siblings. And it's where, through the love of his aunt,
he finally learned firsthand what it was like to have
a mother. For months now, I've felt incomplete in the
absence of my father. I don't really have a sense
of who I'm supposed to be. I've kept moving, trying
(04:41):
to tell myself I was okay putting my energy into
this startup for this show. I hadn't actually cried, And
as my wife Lizzie has told me, I've been distant.
Now that I haven't like to complained about me, I'm
happy to complain about you. I'm like or off. So
(05:03):
I've mentioned over and over in the show that I'm
not entirely present, and I know I definitely feel that,
But can you talk a little bit about your perspective
on that. I mean, I have said to you that
I think that this show and working on this has
been a wonderful gift, because if you aren't given something
(05:27):
like that, then you are the one who puts things away.
It's not good for a person. It's not good for you,
it's not good for any person. So I'm glad that
you're not doing that. But also you basically have like
a job on a job at a time when the
kids are also reading. It's been a hard time to
have you be kind of constantly either literally not there
(05:50):
or there, but you know, half there, You're like half
in and half out. I keep thinking about that Dmitry
Martin quote where he said that I guess he lost
both his parents a pretty quick succession, or lost one
of his parents, yeah, a mom in college or something,
And he wrote a line that saw losing a parent
is the first hardest thing. Yeah, your dad is who
(06:14):
you are and how you imagine your future, which I
think has been a lot of this experience views like okay,
well kind of person am I going to be? And
what's my life trajectory? I think that like grief is gigantic,
it's like swimming in an ocean and like finding shallow
parts where you can kind of stand for a bit
and then you know the Marianne French or you won't
(06:38):
be for very long, but it's just like you keep
swimming and hopefully who over time you find warmer and
shallower waters. But using the same metaphor, I guess you've
become a stronger swimmer through this, and we can't be
a part of that, you know. So yeah, maybe you've
been less present, but maybe that's just natural, you know.
(07:00):
Maybe the best thing we could do is kind of
try to take care of ourselves for the meantime and
be there when you come back. And it's not that
I think visiting gin House will solve that feeling for
me exactly, but I wonder if you could put me
on firm or footing, that is, if we ever make
it there. This drive feels endless, which was always my
(07:23):
dad's favorite kind. We racked up over three hundred and
fifty thousand miles in our Volvo station Wagon, the one
my family got, one of us four driving across Nova,
Scotia and West Virginia, the Outer Banks where that one
time we drove to Quebec City because our dog, Chap,
who was ill with a thyroid disease, needed to drink
holy water from Saint Anne de Beaucray, a cathedral there.
(07:47):
We'd adopted our dog from a Catholic family, and somehow
my mom got the idea that we need to respect
my dog's religious background, so we did anyway. We spent
those hours of miles singing and arguing, playing word games.
We pulled over to sample peaches and found streams to
cool our heels, and we asked for directions, lots of directions.
(08:11):
And after hours of driving, when the sky turned dark
and our stomachs were full, the car got quiet. My
mom and sister would fall asleep, my dad kept pushing ahead,
and me I'd stare out the window. We moved across
highways and country roads, often until one or two in
the morning. Sometimes I tried to find the rhythm of
(08:33):
the tower lights, guessing when the next beam would shine
down on the car. Often I'd look higher, wishing on
the first star I spotted, or tracing my fingers across
constellations both real and imagine. And eventually I'd given to sleep,
knowing that in this car, under this magnificent sky, I
(08:58):
could close my eyes, feeling safe, loved, always moving forward.
And now as I stare out the window at rural Connatica,
I finally finally let tears stream down my face and
I let go of everything I've been holding. In chapter two,
(09:35):
White Magic, this is doctor vej Se dinaray Am, a
tent trick astrologer from the age of five, the holy
thing I know about life. For all of the astrologers
we've met or hunted four in China, I there were
so many disappointments except for this one. Around town. Doctor
(10:00):
j has a reputation as a quote five star astrologer,
and he agreed to meet with us after his TV
appearance that morning. To tell you the truth, I did
not have high hopes the words five star TV astrologer,
I mean I pictured an astro televangelist. And as we
waited in his sitting room, sweating from the Chennai heat,
all I was thinking about was how many days we'd
(10:22):
wasted and what were we really going to learn here?
But when he welcomed us into his humble office with
just enough space for desk and some chairs, it just
felt different. Imbermal using to live a normal life. He's right,
very little about doctor Vja's story is normal. Before him,
(10:45):
his parents had six daughters. My great grandfather told my
mother or my father stating that seventh baby will be
a son, and by whip him khali, the jeans will
be changed from a fee. Through prayers and offerings, they
supposedly changed the sex of their child, but that meant
(11:06):
he'd also have to carry the burden of sustaining the
family business. Jay practices tantric astrology and astrology he refers
to as white magic. It's about using esoteric knowledge to
reduce people's pain and relieve them of their negative karmic pressures.
It can mean reversing curses, preventing infidelities, fighting witchcraft, and
(11:27):
as he tells me, there are fewer than one hundred
people in all of India, maybe even half of that,
who practice it. His father and grandfather did this work too,
and every day he'd watch as they absorb people's pain.
So I see people often coming to my great grandfather
and my father. They used to cry scree. J did
(11:49):
this for eighteen years and then he left. He couldn't
take the emotional toll. He hated that people would come
to him and ask him to use tantric astrology for
these evil reasons, to lure across against their will, or
to put a curse on someone, things that went against
the ethics that his grandfather and father practiced. So he fled.
(12:11):
He went to the UK. He got a good job
in fashion and marketing and merchandising. But however far he ran,
he just couldn't get away my great grandfather, he called me,
you might be in London these days, but I will
be dying by September nine, two nine, and you are
supposed to be here to take care of your father,
(12:31):
and you cannot take your coma. For him, it was
an act of devotion, seating his own dreams for his family,
because his love for his father and his grandfather was
that strong. But before he could accept the mantle, his
father had one final test for him. You know, I
wish to explain about an incident my great dad who
(12:53):
taught me how to live and how to be ethically right,
to have the good rapper, good people the only question
he asked me. Then I looked that. I shudder when
I hear this. His dad wanted Vijay to predict his
time of death. It feels cruel, masochistic. I mean, there
(13:14):
are things you just don't want to know. And the
idea of being forced to tell your parents when they're
going to die, let alone being forced to be accurate
about it, I can't fathom it. But Vijay's dad was
asking him to put his craft over his emotion, to
tell his brain to eclipse his heart. And I was shanton.
(13:34):
I was just looking at him like that. And he
told me, now I'm asking you. You see a Jay
who'd already questioned whether this was the right line of
work for his life, for his happiness, had to summon
all his courage and look his father in the eye
and tell him, Dad, you will have a kist between
(13:59):
fulfill much twenty one kill twenty first. It was one
of the hardest moments in Vijay's life, but for his dad,
it was everything he wanted for his son. Then my
dad told me, you'll be a you know, a worthful person,
and you'll do great, great things. But unfortunately I lost
(14:21):
my great dad, who is my group and my mentor
onto March two on my lap. I'm sure there are
moments as an astrologer where you just don't want to
be right, and my heart breaks for him, But in
some strange way, I also envy him. Vijay knew the
exact moment his father would die. He didn't have to
(14:43):
watch his father writhing in pain, wondering how long it
would go on, or make a decision about when to
give him the morphine to let him go. So I
asked him about the power of his craft, these remedies
he uses to help other people, and if he could
have healed his father or pos we postpone that death.
If that does me return in their child, no war,
(15:06):
what sheep or no you know, embodies can't save her life.
His glassy eyes betrayed the emotional distance and astrologer is
supposed to keep. But as he talks, it occurs to
me that I too, am the bearer of a lineage,
the first son of a first son who was also
desperately prayed for. And what were the responsibilities I ignored
(15:30):
and the duties I turned my back on that led
me to this room here. Chapter three, Backscratch. This is
(15:58):
the main road to gin how, but you'll never spot
it unless you know where you're going. In fact, it's
been so many years now that seras the wonderful driver
I've hired, and I have to pull over to ask
for directions to landmarks nearby. Finally we find this little
gate with a watchman sitting, and then the long dirt
drive into pure greenery. To me, Gin House has always
(16:22):
felt like this secret garden, and it doesn't take long
for the chaos of the business district to disappear behind you.
The house probably isn't what you're expecting. It's a mid
century home, minimalist elegance in red and white, with a
welcoming veranda and beautifully kept lawns and gardens. On one hand,
(16:43):
the place is simple. It's just three bedrooms and a kitchen,
with the center hall that works as both living and
dining room, but it's set in this oasis. The veranda
looks out onto this beautiful lawn, perfect fatigues and receptions,
and Batman the roof doubles his dance floor or a
launch pad for paper airplanes over the next few hours,
(17:09):
I'll wander the grounds. The housekeeper, who's been instructed to
make me lunch all of my favorites will overfeed me
the same way my granddaunt would have insisted. All lays
on a couch and thumb through books because there are
so many books here in every room, And I'll sit
on the veranda, just staring and thinking. Decades ago, i'd
(17:33):
sit on this veranda in the early evenings with my
grandfather when he break from his writing, and pour himself
a small peck of whiskey, and we trade stories as
we watched out into the monsoons. This is where he
told me to always carry a pen with me, to
make sure I could write down my ideas at any moment.
It's something I still do. This is where I learned
(17:53):
about how much he loved my dad about us. Sometimes
he'd squeeze him too hard because he couldn't express his love.
And this is where I first heard the story about
the backscratch. We all still tell it. I tell it,
and this is how it starts. When my dad was
just a kid, just seven or eight, my grandfather came
(18:16):
in from out of town and sat next to him
on a bed Shanta, my sister tells it. The story
goes about Baja was traveling for work a lot and
back and forth to Goah, so I don't think he
was able to really be there that often. And so
one day he came to visit Dad and they were
(18:37):
sitting on the edge of the bed and just talking. Ruby,
my kid, tells it, so when also was about seven
or eight, he was lying in bed and his dad
just came in from out of town. And he came
and he sunnis in his bed and said, my dad,
you know, and I'm trying to be the best father
(19:00):
and it's hard going up with our mom, But is
there anything I can do for you? Is there anything
that's missing? Thought? And he thought, and then he finally said,
you know, I've just fend When his back itches, his
mom comes and scratches it for him, and heered off
and he starts scratching my dad's back for longer than
(19:21):
the little type needed. But Joe was so heartbroken to
hear that. And then he's just thinking, my sons growing
up without a mother. This is such a simple thing,
this last thing I can do free and just sat
and scratched his back. No. Chapter four ashes see it.
(19:50):
It's February sixteen, twenty twenty three. We're on a boat
on the Indian Ocean, not far from Colba Beach in
South Koa. It's where my dad used to spend his
weekends as a kid. It's my mom, my wife, the kids,
and my aunts, someone all here together, and my dad.
(20:12):
Of course. We've got his ashes in a glorified shoe
box that's printed to look like a clip art version
of Heaven. I guess the waves are mild this morning,
and the water is so blue. We spot pods of
dolphins frolicking in the waters and racing alongside us. Do
(20:37):
you see him? There's this flock of seabirds flying in front.
They stayed just ahead of us, like they're pulling us
away from the sun kissed coast threaded with coconut trees
and into something even more serene. We don't talk. I
look at my mom and aunt tearing up. My son,
Henry is crying and he's in Lizzie's arms. Meanwhile, Ruby
(21:00):
thinks this is a joy ride, arms up in the air.
I jew wouldn't want us to be sad, as they
put it, and Ruby's right in a way. After a
few minutes of more intentional silence, where we sit rock
gently by the waves and our feelings. My mom and
I climbed to the very back of the boat. She
asked me to sing a chant when she can't muster one.
(21:23):
My dad loved Jay said a good nick and and
we lean over the railing to say goodbye one final time.
Said I still don't believe in astrology. But doctor VJ,
(21:47):
the tent trick astrologer i'd visited, and I had told
me I would carry my grief for seven more months.
It would be seven more months before I'd finally be
myself again. You will find up v took hold of this.
Are you a lorny laying what you are? That was August.
(22:10):
It's the end of February. Now, by the time I'm
back in the States, seven months will have passed. Chapter five,
The first hardest thing. This is April twenty twenty two.
(22:38):
Doctor Kumar's prediction about my father falling ill had come true,
and I'd raced down to Atlanta a few times to
be with him. Pitt. Now I'm saying bye to my
dad as I head back to New York. This is
him and his lazy boy with a bowl of the
status on his stomach and a mystery paperback by his
side were both smiling. Because the doctor has a plan.
(23:02):
The KINGMO should give him three months. There's a chance
he'll have much longer. This is me getting a call
that very same night, soon after my plane hit the
tarmac at LaGuardia, that my father had to be rushed
to the emergency room. This is him, days later, still
in the hospital, telling my sister that I can't make
(23:26):
you happy and I can't make sad. This is him
holding my mom's hand, telling her over and over how
beautiful she is, telling her she's always been his only So.
(23:46):
This is me walking into the hospital to relieve my mom.
It's my turn to spend the night with him, but
my mom tells me that the fight is over, that
my only mission is to bring him home so he
can pass amongst his loved ones. This is me signing
the forum for hospice, knowing that when the morphine kicks in,
(24:08):
it'll knock him out. These will be my last moments
with him conscious. Do you know who's waiting at home
for you? You don't know? Do you want to see Barkley?
This is me shaving him one last time. I'm just
going to shave a little bit on your face, Okay, there,
(24:31):
barber style. I use a warm washcloth to soften the
subtle I gently lather his face. I take my time
with each stroke. This is me putting my cologne on him.
Do you remember that I used to put after shave
on me. Yeah. He used to laugh and joke and
(24:52):
tell stories as I watched him shave as a kid.
And then he'd spray assent into the heel of his
palms and rub them into my cheek and tiny circles,
warning me of how it might sting. This is me
playing a messages, an old going song from his sister
and nephew, a message from my aunt's summer, so much,
(25:17):
so much, some whispers of things I needed him to know,
and hoping he hears. You know, you know we love
you so much? Right, Yeah, you know you're a wonderful dad.
This is me in the back of an Atlanta Everyone's
taking him home. This is me staring out into traffic,
(25:39):
collecting out the back window, caressing his hair, pushing it
across his forehead, cripping his hand repeatedly, desperately trying to
communicate my love with each squeeze, not knowing what's getting through.
This is me tracing my fingertips gently down his papery skin,
(25:59):
kissing his forehead, scratching his back gently for way too
long because I still can epilogue. This is my friend Aj,
(26:44):
all types of interesting. Way back at the beginning of
the show, he told me curiosity and gratitude for my
two favorite virtues, and I agree. I think both lead
to a richer life. There was always so much to
be curious about, so much to be grateful for. But
as I try finally to end this show, I keep
(27:05):
thinking about another drive. In twenty seventeen, we'd just moved
to Atlanta so I could take a job in podcasting.
That Thanksgiving, we headed up nine five to my cousin Shanta's,
to be with my parents and sister and cousins and dogs.
(27:29):
Everyone was just so happy, cooking together, making gingerbread houses,
drinking cider, wandering through a farm, the saw down the
perfect Christmas tree. And then when the weekend was over
and it was finally time to say goodbye and the
anxiety of a new work week had started to settle in,
Lizzie turned to me and she said, why don't we
(27:51):
skip by nine? Why don't we take the long way home?
That afternoon, we drove across Skyline Drive, the famous Skyline Drive,
the one that stitches a path along the edge of
the Blue Ridge Mountains as you drive through the Shenandoah
National Park. At the time, our kids were seven and four,
(28:11):
and back then when they used to ask how long
till we get there? Lizzie and I would relay the
time in episodes of the PBS show Arthur, like it's
five Arthurs till we're home, which meant two and a
half hours. But somehow, on this hundred mile parkway, we
didn't have to answer that question once. We just marveled
(28:34):
at all the red and yellow painted across the treetops,
and the fog that rolled in and out across the
blue and purple mountaintops, and the way the light played
favorites with parts of the valley below and somewhere along
the way. As the kids started to nod off and
Lizzie squeezed my hand, and as we watched the sunset,
I realized who I became in that moment, in the
(28:56):
driver's seat, steering an endless road, And I know who
I can be I don't have to waste time endlessly
obsessing about the future. I can choose moments like this,
the ones that make my heart leap. I can choose
the long way home over and over and never regret it.
(29:17):
And I can fill the time I have left because
I understand how precious that time is with a series
of Skyline Drives. I am, it's all tree. Are we
pluck a wheelow muscars are hiding, register show you silence,
(29:59):
all all tree with roots like a new bone. Your
wind is blowing and overa go, and now I see
(30:28):
a storm cloud up in the distance, A terrible old man,
A beautiful show. So take me down, easy, Take me
down easy, Let me land softly back in your arm,
(31:01):
your sac Oh man. I cannot thank you enough for
listening to the show. Like all podcasts, our show grows
through word of mouth. So if you'd liked Skyline Drive,
tell a friend, post about it on social media, or
write as a little review. We read them all because
we are obsessives and a few of us are geminis,
and also we just like the feedback. Also, there's been
(31:24):
too much crying, so anna give us a dope eat.
Skyline Drive is a production of Kaleidoscope and iHeart Podcast.
(31:48):
If you like the show, you should know my incredible
team carried me across the finish line. So thank you
so much to Mary Philip Sandy, our supervising producer, Mitra
bunsha He, our producer, Mark Lotto, my story editor, and
Anna Rubinovo, who produced and elevated the sound of all
of these shows along with through chivalrou and soundboard. I
am truly indebted to all of you. Everyone keeps asking
(32:12):
me about the theme song bought me AKA Spencer Stevenson
wrote the gorgeous score for this season. Also, I'm so
grateful to the musicians whose music lifted me in my
very lowest moments before I started writing, including him, Monshu
Suri who read the episode, Warning Mo and Azidi Records,
Peter Matthew Bauer Rogin their Alap moment, Vinnie Desai Lush
(32:34):
Life Motor Sales, and James Henry Junior, whose stunning, stunning
song closed out this episode. Also my aunt Indu Gersape
and my cousin Annam Gersape for singing that beautiful go
In folk song. Thank you to Simon and Arjun Buckshee,
all the participants, Gene Michelle Annie George and our house
as frologers, Doctor Kumar and Janelle Belgrave. The show is
(32:57):
executive produce for iHeart by Nicky Tour and Katrina Norville.
Thank you to my partners at Kaleidoscope, especially Oswaylshan who
encouraged me to tell this story and gave me the
room to tell it as we co founded this business,
but also Kate Osbourne and cost Us Leno's. Thank you
to our investors and board for backing this crazy project.
(33:17):
Thank you to Vagney Shory for managing the social media
for this show. On top of everything else, special thanks
to Ali, Nathan Conall, Will and Bob at iHeart. I
want to give my family some extra love, but especially
Lizzie and Henry and Ruby and also Sara than Shampa
and as always a big big thank you to my
(33:40):
Ama and my dad, Lalita and Omesh who I thank
my lucky stars for I'm mungish together. Thank you so
so much for listening. Sounds Carol usually are sometimes I'm
(34:00):
times sometimes sometimes imme he sometimes sometimes sometimes I'm times
sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes times, sometimes I'm sometimes i'mtimes, I'm
sometimes sometimes i'm sometimes I'm pass to fits Sometimes I
pass to fit. Sometimes I stay sober. Sometimes it's pass
(34:21):
to fit. Sometimes I'm pasting in, sometimes I'm making it.
Sometimes I got the ship, sometimes I'm lacking it. Get
low man, there'll be too much danity. How to live
life for my life water way usiness, and how a
live man in my reality. Always I've been using more
labrity vaperty laberty
Morning. The following episode includes tantric astrology, station Wagons, a
go in folk song, the PBS Kids Show, Arthur, the
scattering of ashes, backscratches, and coming to term with the
father's passing. Sensitive listeners, please take care. This is Peter Kaplan,
(00:33):
the legendary editor at the New York Observer. Editors were
like movie directors, and they work with the writers. He
had this old piece of advice that I think about
a lot. When one of his writers was struggling with
writer's block. Ke'd say, take out all your material and
write a beginning, and then another and another, and keep going,
(00:55):
and pretty soon you'll have this page full of beginnings.
Even if that doesn't lead you where you want to go,
you can step back and admire it and think, isn't
that a beautiful thing? I've always loved that image. A
bouquet full of beginnings promises paths to explore, and I
(01:19):
wonder does it work the same for endings from Kaleidoscope
and I Heeart podcast. I'm Mongish Articular. This is Skyline Drive,
(02:13):
chapter one, car Rides. This is me on my last
full day in India. I've been in the car since
four am and I couldn't sleep the night before from
(02:34):
sheer excitement. In Chennai. Mark said, I wouldn't find the
resolution I needed in astrology. I wasn't going to soothe
my heart ache with a reading or find direction and prophecies.
The thing is, I was still clinging desperately to this
idea of making a joyous astrology show and ignoring my emotions.
(02:54):
He said I needed something else. He said, you need
to go to that home. And I knew what he meant.
Somewhere along our trip I had told him about Gin House,
an old family home tucked away in Hobley, a town
in the southern state of Carnatica. As a kid, I
spent so many summers there, playing badminton on the lawn,
(03:15):
reading on the verandah, dipping my toes in the well
out back, and just soaking in all this love and
attention that my relatives there gave me. Until I was
in my teens, I thought gin House got the name
because of all the warmth and entertaining and celebrating that
took place there. But the gin actually referred to the
cotton gins and working mills in the back. But this
(03:37):
house and the grounds wasn't just a wondrous place for
me to spend my summer days running around and exploring.
The house was a life raft for both my grandfather
and my father when each of them was at sea.
When my grandfather lost his businesses in his old age,
this is where he picked himself up and focused on
his writing. When my father had failed out of college
(04:00):
just fifteen, this is where his aunt pleaded for him
to be sent to be given one more chance. So
he came, and he flourished, and it was just as
magical and transformative for him. It's where he stood third
in all university exam and learned woodworking, and swam in
the giant water tank out back, and embraced his cousins
(04:21):
like siblings. And it's where, through the love of his aunt,
he finally learned firsthand what it was like to have
a mother. For months now, I've felt incomplete in the
absence of my father. I don't really have a sense
of who I'm supposed to be. I've kept moving, trying
(04:41):
to tell myself I was okay putting my energy into
this startup for this show. I hadn't actually cried, And
as my wife Lizzie has told me, I've been distant.
Now that I haven't like to complained about me, I'm
happy to complain about you. I'm like or off. So
(05:03):
I've mentioned over and over in the show that I'm
not entirely present, and I know I definitely feel that,
But can you talk a little bit about your perspective
on that. I mean, I have said to you that
I think that this show and working on this has
been a wonderful gift, because if you aren't given something
(05:27):
like that, then you are the one who puts things away.
It's not good for a person. It's not good for you,
it's not good for any person. So I'm glad that
you're not doing that. But also you basically have like
a job on a job at a time when the
kids are also reading. It's been a hard time to
have you be kind of constantly either literally not there
(05:50):
or there, but you know, half there, You're like half
in and half out. I keep thinking about that Dmitry
Martin quote where he said that I guess he lost
both his parents a pretty quick succession, or lost one
of his parents, yeah, a mom in college or something,
And he wrote a line that saw losing a parent
is the first hardest thing. Yeah, your dad is who
(06:14):
you are and how you imagine your future, which I
think has been a lot of this experience views like okay,
well kind of person am I going to be? And
what's my life trajectory? I think that like grief is gigantic,
it's like swimming in an ocean and like finding shallow
parts where you can kind of stand for a bit
and then you know the Marianne French or you won't
(06:38):
be for very long, but it's just like you keep
swimming and hopefully who over time you find warmer and
shallower waters. But using the same metaphor, I guess you've
become a stronger swimmer through this, and we can't be
a part of that, you know. So yeah, maybe you've
been less present, but maybe that's just natural, you know.
(07:00):
Maybe the best thing we could do is kind of
try to take care of ourselves for the meantime and
be there when you come back. And it's not that
I think visiting gin House will solve that feeling for
me exactly, but I wonder if you could put me
on firm or footing, that is, if we ever make
it there. This drive feels endless, which was always my
(07:23):
dad's favorite kind. We racked up over three hundred and
fifty thousand miles in our Volvo station Wagon, the one
my family got, one of us four driving across Nova,
Scotia and West Virginia, the Outer Banks where that one
time we drove to Quebec City because our dog, Chap,
who was ill with a thyroid disease, needed to drink
holy water from Saint Anne de Beaucray, a cathedral there.
(07:47):
We'd adopted our dog from a Catholic family, and somehow
my mom got the idea that we need to respect
my dog's religious background, so we did anyway. We spent
those hours of miles singing and arguing, playing word games.
We pulled over to sample peaches and found streams to
cool our heels, and we asked for directions, lots of directions.
(08:11):
And after hours of driving, when the sky turned dark
and our stomachs were full, the car got quiet. My
mom and sister would fall asleep, my dad kept pushing ahead,
and me I'd stare out the window. We moved across
highways and country roads, often until one or two in
the morning. Sometimes I tried to find the rhythm of
(08:33):
the tower lights, guessing when the next beam would shine
down on the car. Often I'd look higher, wishing on
the first star I spotted, or tracing my fingers across
constellations both real and imagine. And eventually I'd given to sleep,
knowing that in this car, under this magnificent sky, I
(08:58):
could close my eyes, feeling safe, loved, always moving forward.
And now as I stare out the window at rural Connatica,
I finally finally let tears stream down my face and
I let go of everything I've been holding. In chapter two,
(09:35):
White Magic, this is doctor vej Se dinaray Am, a
tent trick astrologer from the age of five, the holy
thing I know about life. For all of the astrologers
we've met or hunted four in China, I there were
so many disappointments except for this one. Around town. Doctor
(10:00):
j has a reputation as a quote five star astrologer,
and he agreed to meet with us after his TV
appearance that morning. To tell you the truth, I did
not have high hopes the words five star TV astrologer,
I mean I pictured an astro televangelist. And as we
waited in his sitting room, sweating from the Chennai heat,
all I was thinking about was how many days we'd
(10:22):
wasted and what were we really going to learn here?
But when he welcomed us into his humble office with
just enough space for desk and some chairs, it just
felt different. Imbermal using to live a normal life. He's right,
very little about doctor Vja's story is normal. Before him,
(10:45):
his parents had six daughters. My great grandfather told my
mother or my father stating that seventh baby will be
a son, and by whip him khali, the jeans will
be changed from a fee. Through prayers and offerings, they
supposedly changed the sex of their child, but that meant
(11:06):
he'd also have to carry the burden of sustaining the
family business. Jay practices tantric astrology and astrology he refers
to as white magic. It's about using esoteric knowledge to
reduce people's pain and relieve them of their negative karmic pressures.
It can mean reversing curses, preventing infidelities, fighting witchcraft, and
(11:27):
as he tells me, there are fewer than one hundred
people in all of India, maybe even half of that,
who practice it. His father and grandfather did this work too,
and every day he'd watch as they absorb people's pain.
So I see people often coming to my great grandfather
and my father. They used to cry scree. J did
(11:49):
this for eighteen years and then he left. He couldn't
take the emotional toll. He hated that people would come
to him and ask him to use tantric astrology for
these evil reasons, to lure across against their will, or
to put a curse on someone, things that went against
the ethics that his grandfather and father practiced. So he fled.
(12:11):
He went to the UK. He got a good job
in fashion and marketing and merchandising. But however far he ran,
he just couldn't get away my great grandfather, he called me,
you might be in London these days, but I will
be dying by September nine, two nine, and you are
supposed to be here to take care of your father,
(12:31):
and you cannot take your coma. For him, it was
an act of devotion, seating his own dreams for his family,
because his love for his father and his grandfather was
that strong. But before he could accept the mantle, his
father had one final test for him. You know, I
wish to explain about an incident my great dad who
(12:53):
taught me how to live and how to be ethically right,
to have the good rapper, good people the only question
he asked me. Then I looked that. I shudder when
I hear this. His dad wanted Vijay to predict his
time of death. It feels cruel, masochistic. I mean, there
(13:14):
are things you just don't want to know. And the
idea of being forced to tell your parents when they're
going to die, let alone being forced to be accurate
about it, I can't fathom it. But Vijay's dad was
asking him to put his craft over his emotion, to
tell his brain to eclipse his heart. And I was shanton.
(13:34):
I was just looking at him like that. And he
told me, now I'm asking you. You see a Jay
who'd already questioned whether this was the right line of
work for his life, for his happiness, had to summon
all his courage and look his father in the eye
and tell him, Dad, you will have a kist between
(13:59):
fulfill much twenty one kill twenty first. It was one
of the hardest moments in Vijay's life, but for his dad,
it was everything he wanted for his son. Then my
dad told me, you'll be a you know, a worthful person,
and you'll do great, great things. But unfortunately I lost
(14:21):
my great dad, who is my group and my mentor
onto March two on my lap. I'm sure there are
moments as an astrologer where you just don't want to
be right, and my heart breaks for him, But in
some strange way, I also envy him. Vijay knew the
exact moment his father would die. He didn't have to
(14:43):
watch his father writhing in pain, wondering how long it
would go on, or make a decision about when to
give him the morphine to let him go. So I
asked him about the power of his craft, these remedies
he uses to help other people, and if he could
have healed his father or pos we postpone that death.
If that does me return in their child, no war,
(15:06):
what sheep or no you know, embodies can't save her life.
His glassy eyes betrayed the emotional distance and astrologer is
supposed to keep. But as he talks, it occurs to
me that I too, am the bearer of a lineage,
the first son of a first son who was also
desperately prayed for. And what were the responsibilities I ignored
(15:30):
and the duties I turned my back on that led
me to this room here. Chapter three, Backscratch. This is
(15:58):
the main road to gin how, but you'll never spot
it unless you know where you're going. In fact, it's
been so many years now that seras the wonderful driver
I've hired, and I have to pull over to ask
for directions to landmarks nearby. Finally we find this little
gate with a watchman sitting, and then the long dirt
drive into pure greenery. To me, Gin House has always
(16:22):
felt like this secret garden, and it doesn't take long
for the chaos of the business district to disappear behind you.
The house probably isn't what you're expecting. It's a mid
century home, minimalist elegance in red and white, with a
welcoming veranda and beautifully kept lawns and gardens. On one hand,
(16:43):
the place is simple. It's just three bedrooms and a kitchen,
with the center hall that works as both living and
dining room, but it's set in this oasis. The veranda
looks out onto this beautiful lawn, perfect fatigues and receptions,
and Batman the roof doubles his dance floor or a
launch pad for paper airplanes over the next few hours,
(17:09):
I'll wander the grounds. The housekeeper, who's been instructed to
make me lunch all of my favorites will overfeed me
the same way my granddaunt would have insisted. All lays
on a couch and thumb through books because there are
so many books here in every room, And I'll sit
on the veranda, just staring and thinking. Decades ago, i'd
(17:33):
sit on this veranda in the early evenings with my
grandfather when he break from his writing, and pour himself
a small peck of whiskey, and we trade stories as
we watched out into the monsoons. This is where he
told me to always carry a pen with me, to
make sure I could write down my ideas at any moment.
It's something I still do. This is where I learned
(17:53):
about how much he loved my dad about us. Sometimes
he'd squeeze him too hard because he couldn't express his love.
And this is where I first heard the story about
the backscratch. We all still tell it. I tell it,
and this is how it starts. When my dad was
just a kid, just seven or eight, my grandfather came
(18:16):
in from out of town and sat next to him
on a bed Shanta, my sister tells it. The story
goes about Baja was traveling for work a lot and
back and forth to Goah, so I don't think he
was able to really be there that often. And so
one day he came to visit Dad and they were
(18:37):
sitting on the edge of the bed and just talking. Ruby,
my kid, tells it, so when also was about seven
or eight, he was lying in bed and his dad
just came in from out of town. And he came
and he sunnis in his bed and said, my dad,
you know, and I'm trying to be the best father
(19:00):
and it's hard going up with our mom, But is
there anything I can do for you? Is there anything
that's missing? Thought? And he thought, and then he finally said,
you know, I've just fend When his back itches, his
mom comes and scratches it for him, and heered off
and he starts scratching my dad's back for longer than
(19:21):
the little type needed. But Joe was so heartbroken to
hear that. And then he's just thinking, my sons growing
up without a mother. This is such a simple thing,
this last thing I can do free and just sat
and scratched his back. No. Chapter four ashes see it.
(19:50):
It's February sixteen, twenty twenty three. We're on a boat
on the Indian Ocean, not far from Colba Beach in
South Koa. It's where my dad used to spend his
weekends as a kid. It's my mom, my wife, the kids,
and my aunts, someone all here together, and my dad.
(20:12):
Of course. We've got his ashes in a glorified shoe
box that's printed to look like a clip art version
of Heaven. I guess the waves are mild this morning,
and the water is so blue. We spot pods of
dolphins frolicking in the waters and racing alongside us. Do
(20:37):
you see him? There's this flock of seabirds flying in front.
They stayed just ahead of us, like they're pulling us
away from the sun kissed coast threaded with coconut trees
and into something even more serene. We don't talk. I
look at my mom and aunt tearing up. My son,
Henry is crying and he's in Lizzie's arms. Meanwhile, Ruby
(21:00):
thinks this is a joy ride, arms up in the air.
I jew wouldn't want us to be sad, as they
put it, and Ruby's right in a way. After a
few minutes of more intentional silence, where we sit rock
gently by the waves and our feelings. My mom and
I climbed to the very back of the boat. She
asked me to sing a chant when she can't muster one.
(21:23):
My dad loved Jay said a good nick and and
we lean over the railing to say goodbye one final time.
Said I still don't believe in astrology. But doctor VJ,
(21:47):
the tent trick astrologer i'd visited, and I had told
me I would carry my grief for seven more months.
It would be seven more months before I'd finally be
myself again. You will find up v took hold of this.
Are you a lorny laying what you are? That was August.
(22:10):
It's the end of February. Now, by the time I'm
back in the States, seven months will have passed. Chapter five,
The first hardest thing. This is April twenty twenty two.
(22:38):
Doctor Kumar's prediction about my father falling ill had come true,
and I'd raced down to Atlanta a few times to
be with him. Pitt. Now I'm saying bye to my
dad as I head back to New York. This is
him and his lazy boy with a bowl of the
status on his stomach and a mystery paperback by his
side were both smiling. Because the doctor has a plan.
(23:02):
The KINGMO should give him three months. There's a chance
he'll have much longer. This is me getting a call
that very same night, soon after my plane hit the
tarmac at LaGuardia, that my father had to be rushed
to the emergency room. This is him, days later, still
in the hospital, telling my sister that I can't make
(23:26):
you happy and I can't make sad. This is him
holding my mom's hand, telling her over and over how
beautiful she is, telling her she's always been his only So.
(23:46):
This is me walking into the hospital to relieve my mom.
It's my turn to spend the night with him, but
my mom tells me that the fight is over, that
my only mission is to bring him home so he
can pass amongst his loved ones. This is me signing
the forum for hospice, knowing that when the morphine kicks in,
(24:08):
it'll knock him out. These will be my last moments
with him conscious. Do you know who's waiting at home
for you? You don't know? Do you want to see Barkley?
This is me shaving him one last time. I'm just
going to shave a little bit on your face, Okay, there,
(24:31):
barber style. I use a warm washcloth to soften the
subtle I gently lather his face. I take my time
with each stroke. This is me putting my cologne on him.
Do you remember that I used to put after shave
on me. Yeah. He used to laugh and joke and
(24:52):
tell stories as I watched him shave as a kid.
And then he'd spray assent into the heel of his
palms and rub them into my cheek and tiny circles,
warning me of how it might sting. This is me
playing a messages, an old going song from his sister
and nephew, a message from my aunt's summer, so much,
(25:17):
so much, some whispers of things I needed him to know,
and hoping he hears. You know, you know we love
you so much? Right, Yeah, you know you're a wonderful dad.
This is me in the back of an Atlanta Everyone's
taking him home. This is me staring out into traffic,
(25:39):
collecting out the back window, caressing his hair, pushing it
across his forehead, cripping his hand repeatedly, desperately trying to
communicate my love with each squeeze, not knowing what's getting through.
This is me tracing my fingertips gently down his papery skin,
(25:59):
kissing his forehead, scratching his back gently for way too
long because I still can epilogue. This is my friend Aj,
(26:44):
all types of interesting. Way back at the beginning of
the show, he told me curiosity and gratitude for my
two favorite virtues, and I agree. I think both lead
to a richer life. There was always so much to
be curious about, so much to be grateful for. But
as I try finally to end this show, I keep
(27:05):
thinking about another drive. In twenty seventeen, we'd just moved
to Atlanta so I could take a job in podcasting.
That Thanksgiving, we headed up nine five to my cousin Shanta's,
to be with my parents and sister and cousins and dogs.
(27:29):
Everyone was just so happy, cooking together, making gingerbread houses,
drinking cider, wandering through a farm, the saw down the
perfect Christmas tree. And then when the weekend was over
and it was finally time to say goodbye and the
anxiety of a new work week had started to settle in,
Lizzie turned to me and she said, why don't we
(27:51):
skip by nine? Why don't we take the long way home?
That afternoon, we drove across Skyline Drive, the famous Skyline Drive,
the one that stitches a path along the edge of
the Blue Ridge Mountains as you drive through the Shenandoah
National Park. At the time, our kids were seven and four,
(28:11):
and back then when they used to ask how long
till we get there? Lizzie and I would relay the
time in episodes of the PBS show Arthur, like it's
five Arthurs till we're home, which meant two and a
half hours. But somehow, on this hundred mile parkway, we
didn't have to answer that question once. We just marveled
(28:34):
at all the red and yellow painted across the treetops,
and the fog that rolled in and out across the
blue and purple mountaintops, and the way the light played
favorites with parts of the valley below and somewhere along
the way. As the kids started to nod off and
Lizzie squeezed my hand, and as we watched the sunset,
I realized who I became in that moment, in the
(28:56):
driver's seat, steering an endless road, And I know who
I can be I don't have to waste time endlessly
obsessing about the future. I can choose moments like this,
the ones that make my heart leap. I can choose
the long way home over and over and never regret it.
(29:17):
And I can fill the time I have left because
I understand how precious that time is with a series
of Skyline Drives. I am, it's all tree. Are we
pluck a wheelow muscars are hiding, register show you silence,
(29:59):
all all tree with roots like a new bone. Your
wind is blowing and overa go, and now I see
(30:28):
a storm cloud up in the distance, A terrible old man,
A beautiful show. So take me down, easy, Take me
down easy, Let me land softly back in your arm,
(31:01):
your sac Oh man. I cannot thank you enough for
listening to the show. Like all podcasts, our show grows
through word of mouth. So if you'd liked Skyline Drive,
tell a friend, post about it on social media, or
write as a little review. We read them all because
we are obsessives and a few of us are geminis,
and also we just like the feedback. Also, there's been
(31:24):
too much crying, so anna give us a dope eat.
Skyline Drive is a production of Kaleidoscope and iHeart Podcast.
(31:48):
If you like the show, you should know my incredible
team carried me across the finish line. So thank you
so much to Mary Philip Sandy, our supervising producer, Mitra
bunsha He, our producer, Mark Lotto, my story editor, and
Anna Rubinovo, who produced and elevated the sound of all
of these shows along with through chivalrou and soundboard. I
am truly indebted to all of you. Everyone keeps asking
(32:12):
me about the theme song bought me AKA Spencer Stevenson
wrote the gorgeous score for this season. Also, I'm so
grateful to the musicians whose music lifted me in my
very lowest moments before I started writing, including him, Monshu
Suri who read the episode, Warning Mo and Azidi Records,
Peter Matthew Bauer Rogin their Alap moment, Vinnie Desai Lush
(32:34):
Life Motor Sales, and James Henry Junior, whose stunning, stunning
song closed out this episode. Also my aunt Indu Gersape
and my cousin Annam Gersape for singing that beautiful go
In folk song. Thank you to Simon and Arjun Buckshee,
all the participants, Gene Michelle Annie George and our house
as frologers, Doctor Kumar and Janelle Belgrave. The show is
(32:57):
executive produce for iHeart by Nicky Tour and Katrina Norville.
Thank you to my partners at Kaleidoscope, especially Oswaylshan who
encouraged me to tell this story and gave me the
room to tell it as we co founded this business,
but also Kate Osbourne and cost Us Leno's. Thank you
to our investors and board for backing this crazy project.
(33:17):
Thank you to Vagney Shory for managing the social media
for this show. On top of everything else, special thanks
to Ali, Nathan Conall, Will and Bob at iHeart. I
want to give my family some extra love, but especially
Lizzie and Henry and Ruby and also Sara than Shampa
and as always a big big thank you to my
(33:40):
Ama and my dad, Lalita and Omesh who I thank
my lucky stars for I'm mungish together. Thank you so
so much for listening. Sounds Carol usually are sometimes I'm
(34:00):
times sometimes sometimes imme he sometimes sometimes sometimes I'm times
sometimes sometimes sometimes sometimes times, sometimes I'm sometimes i'mtimes, I'm
sometimes sometimes i'm sometimes I'm pass to fits Sometimes I
pass to fit. Sometimes I stay sober. Sometimes it's pass
(34:21):
to fit. Sometimes I'm pasting in, sometimes I'm making it.
Sometimes I got the ship, sometimes I'm lacking it. Get
low man, there'll be too much danity. How to live
life for my life water way usiness, and how a
live man in my reality. Always I've been using more
labrity vaperty laberty
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