1ddc560
|
I don't put much stock in remembering things. Being able to forget is a superior skill.
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fiction
indian-american
divakaruni
immigrant-fiction
indian
mothers-and-daughters
houston
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
6acd669
|
Ebb and flow, ebb and flow, our lives. Is that why we're fascinated by the steadfastness of stars? The water reaches my calves. I begin the story of the Pleiades, women transformed into birds so Swift and bright that no man could snare them.
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|
fiction
indian-american
divakaruni
immigrant-experience
indian-authors
women-s-fiction
mothers-and-daughters
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
1a5f4c1
|
What is the nature of life? Life is lines of dominoes falling. One thing leads to another, and then another, just like you'd planned. But suddenly a Domino gets skewed, events change direction, people dig in their heels, and you're faced with a situation that you didn't see coming, you who thought you were so clever.
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|
relationships
fiction
love
women-s-books
indian-american
divakaruni
immigrant-fiction
mothers-and-daughters
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
e57d1fe
|
My mother clutches at the collar of my shirt. I rub her back and feel her tears on my neck. It's been decades since our bodies have been this close. It's an odd sensation, like a torn ligament knitting itself back, lumpy and imperfect, usable as long as we know not to push it too hard.
|
|
india
love
novel-in-stories
women-s-books
indian-american
divakaruni
immigrant-experience
mothers-and-daughters
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
34ba20b
|
But inside loss there can be gain, too,like the small silver spider Bela had discovered one dewy morning, curled asleep at the center of a rose.
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|
india
fiction
child-narrator
indian-american
divakaruni
immigrant-fiction
women-s-fiction
mothers-and-daughters
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
5aaa8c4
|
Bela had thought she knew what love felt like, but when she saw Sanjay at the airport after six long months, her heart gave a great, hurtful lurch, as though it were trying to leap out of her body to meet him. This, she thought. This is it. But it was only part of the truth. She would learn over the next years that love can feel a lot of different ways, and sometimes it can hurt a lot more.
|
|
india
indian-american
indian-fiction
divakaruni
immigrant-experience
mothers-and-daughters
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
acf02dc
|
"Would you like to come in?" I said. My hands were sweaty. Inside my chest an ocean heaved and crashed and heaved again. "I would," he said. I saw his Adam's apple jerk as he swallowed. "Thank you." I was distracted by that thank you. We had moved past the language of formality long ago. It was strange to relearn it with each other."
|
|
fiction
divakaruni
immigrant-experience
immigrant-fiction
indian-authors
love-mothers-and-daughters
indian
women-s-fiction
mothers-and-daughters
novel
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |