The Indian American Life
Zadie Smith Feels Free in Atlanta
Last night, I went to a Zadie Smith book signing event at the SCADshow theater. This event was part of Zadie's book tour promoting her new essay collection, Feel Free. She was interviewed by television journalist Gail O'Neill on topics like race, her biracial...
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When the Indian-American mom goes clubbing
Google maps reminds me that I am 500 yards from the destination after I have just cautiously taken a left onto a poorly lit gravel parking lot. Night clubs seem to like the appeal of appearing incognito all the while being inherently orgasmic in our thoughts. I...
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The necessity of spooning hard
One of my many mementos is a note in my grandfather's handwriting. “There is no problem that doesn't get resolved in the bedroom,” it says, when translated from Telugu in which it is written. I had found it inside an envelope of cash that held 10,001 rupees that was...
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The Nobel Prize
In Literature for 2044 ~ Acceptance Speech I wrote this essay when I was in my 30’s. This is as much I can reveal about my age as a woman’s vanity will permit. Writing generates the excesses of emotions that sustain life. Writing unifies. And to write better, I learnt...
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Hebrew 6:19 – Hope is the anchor to the soul
A boy, who doesn't seem to be 10 yet, comes and asks me for my phone at Barnes and Noble. I look at his bald head and wonder silently, "childhood cancer?" Its little over 8pm on Thursday evening and I'm sitting with my 8 year old reading about Anne Frank's diary's...
read moreThe Indian American Mom’s Weekly Review – Thursday
Starring: Dad, mom (me), nanamma (dad’s mom), Boys – 12 year old Ky and 8 year old Moksh. * Continued from Wednesday Thursday I copy hand written notes of a book called Belle Cora onto the computer wondering all the while if I will ever read these notes again....
read moreThe Indian American Mom’s Weekly Review – Wednesday
Starring: Dad, mom (me), nanamma (dad’s mom), Boys – 12 year old Ky and 8 year old Moksh. * Continued from Tuesday Wednesday I wake up with my hair flying off in the wind and to a screeching sound of brakes before we hit a wall. Two of my friends and I are...
read moreThe Indian American Mom’s Weekly Review – Tuesday
Starring: Dad, mom (me), nanamma (dad's mom), Boys - 12 year old Ky and 8 year old Moksh. * Continued from Monday Tuesday I wake up Ky at 7am and he complains that his nada (a rope that's used to hold a petticoat up underneath a saree) has come off. Every night...
read moreThe Indian American Mom’s Weekly Review – Monday
Starring: Dad, mom (me), nanamma (dad's mom), Boys - 12 year old Ky and 8 year old Moksh. * Monday * Morning, I kill a cockroach in the sauna at the gym appropriately named, “Crunch”. A Swami (Hindu learned man) is visiting our temple this week in the evenings...
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The Modern Family and The Marital Adversity
On Sunday at 4am along the south east coast of India, a woman sleeping next to her 9 month old infant sat up on the berth of a moving train, collapsed on the floor, frothed at the mouth and died. Her husband of 3 years sought help in the next station the train...
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March for Science, 2017 – What the signs didn’t say
His mother’s open letter to Assad
The letter * Assad, It is tough for me to think of you as a product of a biochemical blissful event, a distinct moment in time. Should I have sniffed the life out of you the moment I held you in my arms? The pain, the struggle that I went through to bring you here,...
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On how it feels to have a daughter
To sit, sip, dream, laugh, read and muse. The world must be in order for her to do that. Everyone has a magic spot and she is mine. This little girl who has a nose for the roses and an eye for wonder. The one that has taught me to soak in a little of the earth element...
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Why I fell off the workforce treadmill
In a 2014 Gallup poll, more than 2/3rds of adults said they were not engaged at work, or were actively disengaged. Worldwide only 13% of adults call themselves engaged at work. One evening this January, while pondering my decision to quit the workforce, I had...
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Bibliomania: Beg, borrow or buy – II
Continued from Part I * * * * * *
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Bibliomania: Beg, borrow or buy
* * * * * * Continued in Part II
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When the Indian-American mom goes to Dirty Sixth
As I walked past The Velveeta Room, I saw the chalk board at the entrance with the words, Stand-up comedy night, showing at 11pm. I asked the old white guy, possibly a biker dude by day, who was cutting tickets standing at the entrance if I could take a quick peek in....
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If Oreos were pets
The ghostwriter for this short story is my 7 year old. According to him, this is how I would write about the lady bug who has come to live with us. * * *
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The Emigrant’s Anthem
I Pursuing dreams, First steps Beckoning opportunities, Across oceans Proud sacrifices, Glistening eyes II Anxious freedom, Fertile memories Loyal sentiments, Burning dedication Liberating happiness, Humbled notions III Defending values, Honoring liberty...
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Teaching the law of Dharma to the ISIS
Spoiler alert: This essay is committed to making a point in gravitas, which I have understood can only be done by not expressing myself in emojis or the texting slang language. * Dear ISIS, Did you know that irrespective of religion and cultural references, once you...
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The UBER app and it’s human heart beat
“I don't really need to go to Church. If I am feeling low, I just pray. What will God do that you can't do for yourself anyway?” Words of wisdom from a 23 year old Haitian-American UBER taxi driver, Ernst. * What would a 40 billion dollar company like UBER, a...
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At home, in America
Cold weather pronounces thoughts of my home. I want home to be my one breathtaking world. After all, most times, I am confident enough to navigate around with my eyes shut. It's my library, my hospital, my school, my bakery and mostly my therapist. This is where...
read moreWhen the Indian-American mom goes clubbing
Google maps reminds me that I am 500 yards from the destination after I have just cautiously taken a left onto a poorly lit gravel parking lot. Night clubs seem to like the appeal of appearing incognito all the while being inherently orgasmic in our thoughts. I...
read more
The Nobel Prize in Literature for 2044 – Acceptance Speech
I wrote this essay when I was in my 30’s. This is as much I can reveal about my age as a woman’s vanity will permit. Writing generates the excesses of emotions that sustain life. Writing unifies. And to write better, I learnt that I had to read more. So, in the summer...
read moreHoms and The Uncharismatic Sociopath..
* For anyone not in need of soul searching or a mirror.. Here is the gist of the mother's letter.. * Assad.. It is tough for me to think of you as a product of a biochemical blissful event, a distinct moment in time.. Should I have sniffed the life out of you the...
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