The Indian diaspora is a wonderful place to write from and I am lucky to be part of it.
I feel as comfortable anywhere as I feel uncomfortable anywhere.
We think of immigration as a Western issue but, of course, it isn't.
Sadness was so claustrophobic.
But then, how could you have any self-respect knowing that you didn't believe in anything exactly? How did you embrace what was yours if you didn't leave something for it? How did you create a life of meaning and pride?
She'd have to propel herself into the future by whatever means possible or she'd be trapped forever in a place whose times had already passed.