My Facebook feed, like everyone else’s is filled with useless junk : photoshopped pictures of children with the most dreadful of deformities, chain letters with ominous threats of the worst outcomes if I don’t comply, questionnaires that let me know which Star Wars character I am most like or predict when and how I will …
I must have been six, maybe seven. There was chaos in the house. Clothes being stuffed into suitcases already full of clothes and sandals and pots and bags of masala and fried onion wrapped in newspaper and then again in multiple layers of plastic, and papads and achar and ladoos and paper kites and manja. …
As I looked out at the sun setting across the Arabian Sea from my aunt’s luxurious apartment I noticed a huge, animated crowd in the street below. “Sharukh Khan’s bungalow is next door,” my aunt explained, “they are waiting for him to come out into the balcony.” Whether the King Khan was actually home or …
The appetizers were done, the turkey not quite and I was getting weary of having the same tired discussions with the same old uncles about religion and politics. So I headed to the table where the younger crowd seemed to be having a blast. As I approached them, one of the girls, who must have …
“Gluck. Gluck. Gluck.” My first reaction when I hear this sound is to reach for my cat and fling her off our bed so I don’t have to spend an hour in the middle of the night cleaning up her vomit from our sheets. However in this particular case it was about three in the …
Our New Year eve’s tradition is to pick up a critically acclaimed series and to binge-watch back to back episodes right through the night. Last year it was Dexter and the year before Firefly; this year the plan was to watch the awesome inner city drug drama: the Wire. Most def ! So when Anjum …
The flight back to Chicago was barely over an hour, but when the screen at the Air Tran check-in terminal asked me if I wanted to upgrade to First Class for an additional $69, I was like, “Hell Yeah!” How could I possibly pass on an opportunity to get my peanuts and Pepsi while the …
Last night I was visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past. I usually dream in vivid Technicolor so when I first saw a monochrome apparition of a Madhuballa like buxom thirty something, I thought it was a wet dream gone horribly wrong. “Who the hell are you?” I asked. “I am the Ghost of Christmas …