Laddu is on the kitchen island, her legs dangling off the edge. Large sunglasses cover more than half her face.
The sambar bubbles merrily on the back stove. The vegetables in the sambar are just done, not mushy, not too
“You are burning up!” I yell at someone in my dream. The feeling is too real. I wake up with
It is nearly 2:00 in the afternoon and I realize with a start that I have not had a chance
Saathi and I are at the kitchen island, he is chopping broccoli, I am mostly done with prep work for
I woke up to outrage on social media yesterday over the remarks of a minor celeb in India following Women’s
I walk in after dropping my youngest daughter at daycare. I see evidence of the morning rush near the shoe
Two years ago, I turned in my badge, laptop and everything else that signified I had a corporate persona. I
We set off, Laddu and I each morning. Today she is in an orange dress, a ball of sunshine herself.
Laddu is on her chair, the booster seat enabling to see the food in front of her. Saathi and I
“What does your dad do for a living?” I ask the twins. “Cut” answers Ammu. “Clean” answers Pattu. I repeat
Hold that thought right there. No, this is not another post debating the relative merits of working or not working.
Emails. Folders. Badges. Tokens. I had them all cleared, lined up and ready to return. As I shut the laptop
It is early evening. I type away on my work laptop, wrapping up unfinished work. The crying sounds from above
In the past few months, a new kind of fixation has taken hold of me. Articles on how women can