We have a wonderful gym in our basement. There is a rower, a treadmill, a weight machine that allows for sixty different exercise moves, free weights, dumbbells, smart bells, some rubber band thingies, a medicine ball, I think that’s what it’s called, another big blue ball that you apparently roll over and a colorful array …
I was standing in the checkout line at my local desi store and there was a lady in front of me. She was middle aged, short and stout with dark, curly hair, dressed in a blue business suit and seemed to be in a real hurry. “Give me four samosas,” she told the young girl …
“Main Zubaida, tum koan?” I heard a booming voice blare out of my headset when I called my mother last week. Every winter as the Polar Vortex descends on the Midwest my mom packs her suitcases and flies off to India. Over the years finding reliable domestic help during her stay in Pune has become …
As far as guilty pleasures go, spending an afternoon reading my spam folder ranks right up there with watching trashy Hindi films. If you haven’t seen a garishly made up heroine oozing ketchup from her mouth as she lies dying in the arms of her sweaty, hairy and slightly balding lover while singing a sentimental …
“Ms. Perez?”“Airport?”“Yes ma’am. Here, let me help you with your luggage.” The bags were heavy and criss-crossed with streaks and tears; the zippers strained at the seams and the tiny wheels squeaked in protest as I dragged them across the driveway. As I huffed and puffed to heave them into the car’s trunk, I saw …
As I watched Alia sleep last night, her chest rising and falling rhythmically under a velvety red blanket, tiny hands curled around her face, and her mouth slightly open with a hint of drool dribbling down her cheek, I wished time would just stop. I took a couple of pictures and then a couple more, …
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 …