“Happiness writes in white ink on a white page.” The French writer Henry de Montherlant said it; these days, the words have been spilling from Salman Rushdie’s lips as he makes the rounds talking about his new memoir, “Knife: Mediations After an Attempted Murder.” I just started reading the book in which, as the title suggests, Rushdie reflects on matters of life and death after a … Continue reading White ink on a white page
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. Continue reading “The word ‘hero’ is overused but it’s truly fitting for John Lewis”
Amid all the political noise of today, I want to stop and think of all my soldier friends I met in Iraq and back here at home in all the years I covered the military. Today is Veterans Day, a time for pause and reflection about the courage and sacrifice of our men and women who served in uniform. I am afraid that they will … Continue reading Stop the politics today — and remember
I woke up to extremely sad news today. NPR photojournalist David Gilkey was killed in Afghanistan, along with interpreter Zabihullah Tamanna. Another friend who worked tirelessly in the world’s most difficult places, gone. David and Zabihullah were traveling with an Afghan army unit, according to the report I heard on NPR this morning. They came under fire and their armored Humvee was hit by a rocket-propelled … Continue reading David Gilkey: remembering an incredible photojournalist
Lost in the diversity controversy at the Oscars Sunday night was this: The only woman of color who won was Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy. Who? That’s the problem. Very few people in America know who she is. But they ought to. Obaid-Chinoy, 37, has two Academy Awards to her name; her latest was in the best documentary short category for “A Girl in the River: The Price … Continue reading Moment of desi pride at the Oscars
My heart breaks every time I read news from Iraq. So much so that I find myself clicking away or turning off the radio. Ramadi, the capital of al-Anbar province, has fallen to the Islamic State. I think of the people I met there during the height of the Iraq War and have to stave off tears. Ramadi and nearby Fallujah were the two most … Continue reading If you throw your hat into the air in Ramadi, it will come down with 12 bullet holes in it
On a bright December afternoon in Kolkata, I watched a handful of young women throw their arms in the air, swirl the scarves of their salwar kameez and leap from one end of the courtyard to the other. They danced their cares away. Literally. The women had all been forced into prostitution or into abusive relationships. Dance was their therapy. For some, it was their only joy … Continue reading Wonderwomen
I spoke with my friend Jean Mariot Cleophat by phone today. It has been five years since I first met him. He was my guide for much of my reporting journey through Haiti after the massive 2010 earthquake that left Haitians is utter despair. They called in “La catastrophe.” Reporters from around the world rushed to Haiti then, hungry to tell the story of the … Continue reading We said we would not forget Haiti
Here’s to you, Blacksheep — 3rd platoon, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 121st Infantry Regiment. Thinking of that hot day in April, 2006, when you completed your last patrol. I was with you in the worst of times and you showed me the best. I feel proud to know all of you. Saluting your courage on Veterans Day. ERC. Continue reading Rembering Blacksheep on Veterans Day
I had a dream last night. It was the same one I’ve had since August 20, when I learned of Jim Foley’s death. A man in black holds a small knife in his left hand. He is too cowardly to show his face. But he holds up Jim’s face. For the world to see. I have been told that if one uses a small knife … Continue reading Death, dreams and dread
