I began to feel that this city is my home. It came nearer to my heart, not so distant. That’s how it started, but now it’s different. I am enjoying making friends my age in my church-non-Bengali frien...
Thanks, Ms. Liberty! Is that a sari you're wearing? I hope not.
A muddy river is a muddy river, whether it's in Bengal or in Baton Rouge.
Where am I from? Can the answer be stories and words, some of theirs, some of mine?
Good humor pokes fun at the powerful — not the weak.
Ma comes to stand beside me, and our intruder makes a clucking sound of disapproval. This one worries me, Ranee. She’s very secretive.
There's something about putting words on a page in private that makes me feel powerful in public.
Libraries. How I love them. My source of stories. And solitude. Where the musty smell of books greets me like the perfume in our grandmother’s embrace. My old branch was two blocks from our London fla...
Theater, my Star? Baba asks. I listen carefully, but there’s no disappointment in his tone, only surprise. Yes, Baba, I say. It’s been an interest of mine. And I think I might be good at it. But Ma— B...
What counted was helping her father achieve his dream-and finding interesting stuff to put in her blog.
Rule number eight: noting ventured, nothing gained
Pen. Where am I from? Can the answer be stories and words, some of theirs, some of mine?
Masjid turns on the radio, and Rabindra Sangeet adds the perfect soundtrack to the scene: Por ke korile nikot bondhu—you bring the distant near. One of Baba’s favorites.
Libraries. How I love them. My source of stories. And solitude.
I’m glad we’re in the same school, I say, and drop a kiss on her head. In London we were enrolled in different schools because Sunny’s so gifted. Here there’s no separate school for extra-smart studen...
I wish the Ganges could wash the grief from my heart, but it can't.
My skin is soft and smooth and the color reminds me of rain-drenched earth. But it’s as if the darkness of it keeps Ma from noticing my assets: curly hair, a round face that makes babies smile, deep d...
You read her diary! That’s wrong, Ma! Ma closes the incinerator door and raises her palms in the air like she’s praying. I have to find out what’s going on in her head, don’t I? It’s my duty to keep h...
Nothing makes you feel more beautiful than a sari.