Glowing screens, increasingly foldable, portable, companionable, anticipating any possible question the human brain might generate.
And yet she could not forgive herself. Even as an adult, she wished only that she could go back and change things: the ungainly things she’d worn, the insecurity she’d felt, all the innocent mistakes...
After Rahul graduated from high school their parents celebrated, having in their opinion now successfully raised two children in America. Rahul was going to Cornell, and Sudha was still in Philadephia...
I don't know why, but the older I get the more interested I get in my parents' marriage. And it's interesting to be married yourself, too, because there is an inevitable comparison.
They were all like siblings, Mr. Kapasi thought as they passed a row of date trees. Mr. and Mrs. Das behaved like an older brother and sister, not parents.
Plato says the purpose of philosophy is to teach us how to die.
Odd things made him love her.
In the days that follow, he begins to remember things about Moushumi, images that come to him without warning while he is sitting at his desk at work, or during a meeting, or drifting off to sleep, or...
So that she began to see herself more clearly, as a thin film of dust was wiped from a sheet of glass.
Não entendo. Como vocês foram capazes de me dar o nome de uma pessoa tão estranha? Ninguém me leva a sério, disse Gógol. Quem? Quem não te leva a sério?, o pai quis saber, levantando os dedos do prato...
Nor was her love for Udayan recognizable or intact. Anger was always mounted to it, zigzagging through her like some helplessly mating pair of insects. Anger at him for dying when he might have lived....
What she’d done for him, because he’d asked.
She returned to Boston in April, during the break after the Lent term, a diamond ring from Roger concealed on a chain beneath her sweater, and this made her feel dipped in a protective coating from he...
My grandfather always says that's what books are for. To travel without moving an inch.
Another
They still feel somehow in transit, still disconnected from their lives, bound up in an alternate schedule, an intimacy only the four of them would share.
That year, and every year, it seemed, we began by studying the Revolutionary War. We were taken in school buses on field trips to visit Plymouth Rock, and to walk the Freedom Trail, and to climb to th...
On a sticky August evening two weeks before her due date, Ashima Ganguli stands in the kitchen of a Central Square apartment, combining Rice Krispies and Planters peanuts and chopped red onion in bowl...
Isolation offered its own form of companionship
In their silence they continued both to protect me and to punish me. The memory of that night was now the only tie between us, eclipsing everything else.