Category: Writing
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Nithya Raman, Okra, and the Brown Woman’s Second Act
I wrote about Rini Sampath in April. Nithya Raman is the next part of the question. The first act has a script. The second act has none.
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^NARS
I planted twenty-six lines into a database my husband architected. One per year of our marriage. He has not seen this part yet.
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Going Gently Into The Night
“My headphones are not charging.” Pattu’s voice is matter of fact. She states it as if it were non negotiable, this state of her headphones. “Have to tried charging it at a different spot? Have you tried using a different charging cord, different adapter?” My questions stream out of me in the measured way of…
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Death Rattle Of A Dying Empire
Photo by Ksenia Chernaya on Pexels.com On Sunday, I sat with four girls, three mine and a friend’s daughter at Movie Tavern for the sing along version of Kpop Demon Hunters. On my left was another woman about my age with a group of kids younger than mine. They all clutched light sticks as they…
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In My IDGAF Era
One work call ends and I have about 30 minutes before the next one. I take Felix out for a small walk. The air is balmy. The sun too bright. I stand squinting in the light and heat while Felix just plops on the grass and does this weird squiggle as if he needs to…
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The Politics Of Joy
Each day, I religiously scroll through my Facebook memories. With well over a decade of posts on there, it often surprises me how I live life in patterns. In the midst of everyday living – school opening, mid school year blues, fall festivities, end of year festivities, there are these posts about the pandemic, school…
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Serenading The Fandom: Forever We Are Young
Last night my three daughters and I sat in a smallish theater surrounded by fellow BTS fans and watched BTS ARMY: Forever We Are Young, a documentary on the global fandom that is the BTS ARMY. A few months ago when this well made documentary premiered at SXSW, my interest was piqued. I figured I…
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Menopause And All That Jazz
“You smell like lifesavers…” Laddu leans into me before she heads upstairs to bed. The Volini cream I have on my shoulders anoints me with the smell of camphor and menthol. I let Laddu go after giving her a tight squeeze. My arms hurt. My shoulders hurt. I turn my swivel chair to face my…
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Breaching New Frontiers
“You can get drunk as much as you want to…” Ammu says playfully in conversation where her dad and I talk about her and her twin getting their learner’s permits and eventually their drivers license. “Ani! Neva…” I call out laughing as I do and head back to my oasis that is my study. “True!…
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The Art Of Representation
I load the dishes after a take out dinner of mooli parathas and chhole. Pattu is at the table by the kitchen, her MacBook open, a note card by the side muttering to herself. The whole scene is incongruous. I have never seen any of my girls actually do school work at home. I finish…