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b9c8a5d
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Push away the past, that vessel in which all emotions curdle to regret.
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|
fiction
immigrant-experience
indian-authors
mothers-and-daughters
novel
wisdom-quotes
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
|
4b02adf
|
It's easier to surrender to confinement.
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|
immigrant-experience
surrender
|
Jhumpa Lahiri |
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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.
|
|
divakaruni
fiction
immigrant-experience
indian-american
indian-authors
mothers-and-daughters
novel
women-s-fiction
|
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.
|
|
divakaruni
immigrant-experience
india
indian-american
love
mothers-and-daughters
novel
novel-in-stories
women-s-books
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
|
fb43a76
|
Asif Ali maneuvers the gleaming Mercedes down the labyrinthine lanes of Old Kolkata with consummate skill, but his passengers do not notice how smoothly he avoids potholes, cows and beggars, how skilfully he sails through aging yellow lights to get the Bose family to their destination on time. This disappoints Asif only a little. In his six years of chauffeuring the rich and callous, he has realized that, to them, servants are invisible.
|
|
family-relationships
immigrant-experience
india
literary-fiction
suspense
usa
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
|
db69533
|
She put on some music. Drum and flute, I think. She played it soft, because it was dreadfully late, a time when all good men and women, or at least the practical ones, had gone to bed. Then she danced for me.
|
|
fiction
immigrant-experience
india
indian-authors
mothers-and-daughters
womens-fiction
|
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.
|
|
divakaruni
immigrant-experience
india
indian-american
indian-fiction
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."
|
|
divakaruni
fiction
immigrant-experience
immigrant-fiction
indian
indian-authors
love-mothers-and-daughters
mothers-and-daughters
novel
women-s-fiction
|
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |