Losing my pillars of love
I have always been called the oldest among my cousins because the truly eldest of my generation were so much older than the rest of us, the sons of my…
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December 27, 2020
The word ‘hero’ is overused but it’s truly fitting for John Lewis
When is the last time I cried over the death of a public figure or a politician? I can’t remember, really. Perhaps it was when Indira Gandhi was assassinated. I was young then and mourned the woman I had idolized in childhood. Beyond politics, she served as a role model for Indian girls of my generation.
Last night, I cried when I heard the news that John Lewis had lost his battle with pancreatic cancer. I grieved the death of a tireless fighter for freedom and justice. (more…)
July 18, 2020
It’s about time we retire the ‘R word’
In 2013, when I was a CNN Digital reporter, I spoke by phone with Suzan Harjo, a Cheyenne and Hodulgee Muscogee writer and activist whose lifelong mission has been to fight for Native American rights. Part of her work was to remove the use of native people as mascots for sporting teams. The Washington Redskins, she told me, was the worst offender of them all.
She couldn’t even bring herself to saying the name. The R-word, she said, was the same as the N-word.
Fans of the Washington football team have defended its name as an honorific; that somehow, the word, redskins, pays tribute to the native people of America. But the Native Americans I know say the term is offensive and the Merriam-Webster dictionary advises the word “should be avoided.” Harjo told me nothing could be more derogatory than the R word.
“The Washington team — it’s the king of the mountain,” she said. “When this one goes, others will.” (more…)
July 13, 2020
On Day 86, I took a risk to fly away to the city by the bay.
The stories I will live by
My pandemic isolation began on March 12. At first, I welcomed the days spent alone at home. And though I felt stressed about having to suddenly pivot and shift my classes online, I relished not having to rush out of the house every morning. But as the days turned to weeks and then months, a strange sort of loneliness set in and I found it dangerously easy to slip into a morose mood.
Determined not to spiral downward, I began posting about the things that made me smile in this strange and trying time when the news seemed to get worse by the day. COVID-19 had killed more than 100,000 Americans. Millions were unemployed. Countless businesses shuttered, maybe forever. And then America exploded over police brutality against people of color. The Black Lives Matter movement that had been born years ago was again at the forefront of our collective consciousness. (more…)
June 15, 2020
The last time I saw Pishi when she was still lucid was in the winter of 2017.
Remembering Pishi: I’ve lost a role model, confidante and second mother
On the 24th day of my pandemic isolation, I learned my Pishi, my auntie, had died in her home in Kolkata. The news was not wholly unexpected – she…
April 19, 2020