The Making of Memories
“I don’t have a family.” Ammu looks glum as she sits beside her appa, her knees drawn to her chest.Continue reading
View ArticleGrief And Regrets
I sit up wide awake from what must have been a light sleep. The clock reads 4:00 AM. I pickContinue reading
View ArticleTurning A Page
It is late afternoon, it is already dark outside. I am not showered yet. The twins are crooning to songsContinue reading
View ArticleThe Very Many Firsts
The window over my sink lets in a mottled mix of sun and clouds. A grey sky putting up aContinue reading
View ArticlePresent And Past
I absently look at the white board calendar in the mudroom as I pick jackets for the kids from theContinue reading
View ArticleA Journey In Pictures
Sometimes pictures bring to life what words can’t. So, here is a glimpse of the places we went and theContinue reading
View ArticleOn Dying, Death And The After
The past couple of weeks have been rough. As forty-somethings wedged in the middle, little kids on one end andContinue reading
View ArticleIntimate Spaces
A clutch of colorful leaves is in her long, tapered fingers. Laddu painstakingly searches for and brings them to herContinue reading
View ArticleSpaces
I walk around my home, my iWatch tracking my steps, urging me to walk 11 minutes more at a briskContinue reading
View ArticleCrossing Cultures
“How do you open this thing?” Laddu’s cry is plaintive as she wrestles with a miniature Hawkins pressure cooker. IContinue reading
View ArticleDiwali: Past And Present
The email from HR arrived suddenly, unexpected in its subject line. “Diwali,” it said. The body was sparse, requesting anyContinue reading
View ArticleThe Dada Cup
It is not yet 6:00 am. I unload the dishwasher. I like the quiet this time of the day. I go about my work methodical, intentional. The last items to come out of the dishwasher are the coffee mugs. Even...
View ArticleTen Years. Many Lessons.
This week marks ten years since we went from being a couple to parents of twins. Each year I struggle with marking the day. Obviously, it is of import to me. It also is of import to my children in...
View ArticleTriggers
I feel sated when I step off the elliptical. The kind of satisfaction that comes from knowing it was an enjoyable experience. I turn my phone on and see a notification from my aunt. It brings worrisome...
View ArticleCOVID-19 Diaries: Reminiscences
Jackfruit. The item remained on our shared grocery list for weeks. Each grocery trip, my finger would hover over it, tempted to strike it off knowing how rare it is to find it locally. Yet, it would...
View ArticleCOVID-19 Diaries: Changing Ways of Life
Today, I pulled the plug on our landline. A number we have had since 2001. A number that has followed us through three moves, seen three babies and been a constant across multiple job changes and...
View ArticleTen Treasured Years!
Eager eyes, heart beating faster, I spy the rather large car filled with people come to a stop before the house. I suddenly feel nervous. I run upstairs before anyone has a chance to catch me at my...
View ArticleMemories Bring Back Memories
By instinct, I sip on my coffee and think about the date. I do it every single morning, a way to place myself in the context of the day, date, year construct. My mind reels off the facts, 27th of...
View ArticleThe Art Of Language
Kumao, I say bowing deeply as I thank Saathi for something. He laughs. Dey, Kha, Saranghae. The words slip easily into conversation. My head is a soup of words in various languages at all times. I gush...
View ArticleSpaces
I walk around my home, my iWatch tracking my steps, urging me to walk 11 minutes more at a brisk pace so my move goal could be met. I walk, my arms swinging, my eyes tracking my children as each play...
View Article