Posts from the “Life” Category

there and back again

Posted on April 4, 2020

It is, indeed, a dangerous business, going out your door. And it’s true, if you step onto the road without keeping your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to. Yet, the not-knowing-of-the-sweeping is a fate far preferable to the knowing-of-staying-still. Because rivers that move become oceans. And those that don’t? Slowly fade away. There will always be “the old tug at your ankles.” The constant buzzing in your ears. The many voices who wish to tell you where and how and for what you should live your life. But there is only one person who has to live it. Only one spirit which has to carry the weight of whether the version of yourself you are choosing to accept is…

always autumn

Posted on October 11, 2019

There is a moment at the end of summer when the light changes. It is a sliver of time so thin, that unless you’re looking for it, you’re sure to miss it. In this moment, the sunlit nets cast upon the waters of the world are reeled in. With them, the brightened hue, the flaxen bloom, the drenched blindness of balmy days, all begin to slink backward and disappear like lemonade twirling down the drain. What remains, are the rays of a sun more mature in her glance. The morning’s shadows grow faint, edged with a dusty gold. A dim glow laces the leaves, the red tone of a burning hearth dying into the night. Each year, I wait for this moment. And each…

80th and 1st

Posted on January 4, 2019

John Steinbeck said, “Once you have lived in New York and it has become your home, no place else is good enough.” Oh, how right he was. I was lucky enough to call New York City home for the past few years, yet it feels as if those years lasted a lifetime. I truly believe there are certain spans we cross during our lives which, through experience, if not through time, cause us to age more than others. For me, this was one of those times. When I first came into the city, it was with the fresh, bright-eyed, shy wonder of one’s early twenties. When I left, it was with a steadier gaze and firmer feet, the weight of understanding that sombers the…

yourself with older eyes

Posted on September 11, 2016

I have always wondered what people mean when they say, certain stories greet you differently every time you read them. That as your story changes, so does the story for you on the page. A while back I took up the task of revisiting those many mandatory high school classroom reads – both the ones I loved and the ones I hated (except The Scarlet Letter… anything but The Scarlet Letter) – to see if they read differently the second time around. The first book on the list (which also happened to be the first book I had ever read for a high school English class) was A Separate Peace. Which I had picked up last? When I was fourteen. I remember being sprawled on the couch with the windows open, a light…

baba jaan

Posted on June 9, 2016

whenever the wheel of everyday living begins to grate on the soul, whenever things start to get too difficult and tasks begin to seem insurmountable – all I have to do is think of the one man who taught me all I know of hard work and perseverance. who, whenever I would come to him crying in frustration, standing on the brink of giving up, would rest his hand on my head and tell me – mera beta, you are bigger than anything you can or will face in this life. from childhood, always easing my heart with the simplest examples – but ones that will always stick with me like little lights brightening the sometimes unending darkness. “if bread is hard, chew it…

navigating grief

Posted on August 8, 2014

Between losing and loss, what pieces of ourselves do we discover? What pieces do we leave behind? It’s a hard process, navigating this road. Mostly because no matter how much you read about it, no one can really teach you how to deal with grief. It is a solitary sea. And no one can show your hands how to reach into empty places to create ships from air. Navigating. Learning what faith is, hanging it on the balance, and finding in comparison the worth of your own. Looking into the shadows of yourself that had been too easy to ignore before. Battling yourself in arenas of your soul that, until now, you never knew existed. There are some days you see clearly, and others…

an older sister

Posted on July 7, 2014

It’s hard to express what it means to have an older sister. To me, an older sister is: a haphazardly drawn chalk highway on the driveway after school; a bike ride and jump rope until the disappearance of the last glimmer of sunlight; a competition on the swings, breathing in the brisk autumn air; ice angels and snowmen and slowly pinkening noses; early summer mornings spent at the library, finding secret spots in which to curl up with a book. An older sister is: a patient answer to a never-ending string of, “What’s that-s?” and “Can you help me-s?” She is the first cry, but also the first laugh; she is fighting and getting in trouble and making up ten minutes later (because you…