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The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri

6th October 2013

If you want to know the story, read the summary at Goodreads. This post is more about the writing. If there’s one feeling that The Lowland has left me with, it is loss. And not the kind that knocks you off your feet with forcefulness. No. It is slow, almost invisible at first, until halfway through the book I felt like I couldn’t breathe because of the weight of all that has happened in the world of Udayan and Subhash Mitra. Through…

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1st October 2013

Something colorful #fmsphotoaday – October 1  This is one of three Chumbak tins that stand on my desk at work. I love Chumbak products because they’re colorful, bright and Indian. I always recommend them to people who visit India and want to take back a keepsake because Chumbak’s products are so cheerful and different from the ‘traditional sandalwood elephant’. Coming back to colorful — this tin gives me something to smile about even during the dullest of moments and dreariest…

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Monday

30th September 2013

“Aaja tujhko pukaare teri parchhaaiyan” This line is so inspiring! I get so caught up in the tightly wound details of the day, I forgot how liberating it feels to look up, once in a while. I’m sure fatigue can set in because of looking at life the same way, day in and day out. The comfort in knowing there’s something bigger than what seems so important at the moment gives me strength.  Maybe a step backwards is not such a bad…

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Grief.

24th September 2013

There is a dark secret about grief that nobody tells you. You know what it is? It surfaces at the most insane times. When you’re lazing around at home on a Sunday and you notice the empty brown chair in the corner When you’re rifling through old e-mails looking for something and you glance at the sender’s name When you listen to a Coldplay album and remember who bought it When you’re watching a random episode of Glee and they…

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My Feminist Dad: In Which We Meet My Maker

16th August 2013

“As a father, I’m not sure if Dad had a feminist plan. I can’t decide if he sought to create a little girl who knew her worth, or if he was just mimicking what he had seen in his mother. I know that he wanted me to be independent. I know that he was proud of me for being smart. In an area of the country where daughters are “daddy’s girls” praised for their pretty dresses or their pleasant demeanors,…

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Feasting

23rd July 2013

A cloud of smoke embraces you as you walk past the street food stalls serving ‘iftar’ food on Mosque Road during the Ramzan period. It never leaves your skin as you plunge into the crowd, tempted by the sight of kebabs on skewers slowly getting singed;  the cries of vendors shouting “Allah ka raham hai, biryani garam hai”; the sound of mutton chops sizzling on the tandoor; the smell of spiced meat and rice.  We chose to try out the…

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A week.

10th June 2013

  There are moments when I hear the music blaring from your phone as you walked down the stairs. Your voice bellowing my name when I didn’t unplug the iPhone charger from the switchboard when I was done using it. Your anger as I missed my curfew by 10 microseconds. On the rare occasions when I fared well on a test or an exam, you always asked ‘What happened to the remaining marks’ but you didn’t fool me. Every step of…

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Goan down memory lane

21st April 2013

Goa meant virgin piña coladas, afternoon siestas and endless hours on the beach.  I have memories of dashing into the water wearing my favorite yellow swimsuit that had three stripes running diagonally across. I remember posing for a picture when my father suddenly picked me up and swung me around, both of us ending up with surprised grins on our faces.  Another memory popped up: this time of when I was eight. The warmth of the sun on my face as I stood…

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