THE POWER OF P’s: Philosophy, Puberty, and Pumice

The Power of P's

I  GREW UP  IN MIAMI BEACH, FLORIDA IN THE  EARLY 1950’s, when television was  in its infancy (only three channels).   We had a twelve inch…

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My Tiered Tiffin Box

My Tiered Tiffin Box

In the late 1980s, Bombay (now Mumbai) had morphed into a rebellious teenager, the child of loving philanthropic parents but an incomplete adult, a poster-child…

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The Roofer

The Roofer

I haven’t been homeless all my life.  There was a time when I had a cozy bed to sleep in and a fine roof over…

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Voices from the dark

Voices from the dark

“Lassiwala..oy… lassiwala!” The young girl’s voice drifted down the dark, rain-washed corridor of the chawl. She stood for a moment at the door of their…

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The Gift

The Gift

The lane in front of the school was a nightmare with its worn-out tarmac, non-existent pavement and the huge buses, mud flecked cars, rickety vans,…

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THE FLY HAS NO PITY

THE FLY HAS NO PITY

Cooch Behar, West Bengal, India That week the rains came. On the morning of July 21 there was a heavy shower and a good deal…

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For the sister in heaven

For the sister in heaven

For twenty-one days, we’d visit Cold rooms of a strange hospital – Eager to see a baby with hydrocephalus breathe. But I’m glad you never…

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The Young Maid

The Young Maid

Dawn cracks over Delhi like a smooth, white egg, sunny yolk of hope, perennially dented, imperfect, in the welkin; on the wall, last night’s smoke…

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Heavy Bodies

Heavy Bodies

“This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – First – Chill – then Stupor – then…

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Making Ash

Making Ash

(for Ganga, 1937-2016) “The silence of the dead is easily ignored.”- C. Dale Young You’ll never be archaeology; they’ll never find your bones. Cause today,…

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