The sun streamed heavily on her face. “Ugh,” she grunted, throwing her soft, pale hands over her cheeks. She turned her eyes and nose toward the tree that received her silent thanks for being the savior. He stood by her with confusion all over his lightly tanned face. “Why are we avoiding the beautiful sunlight?” His question was met with the look of a woman who knows best. “What if I become dark?” His laughter made the pale face turn into a reddish mass of anger. She took an umbrella out of her bag and left, but not before she asked him this: would you want me if I wasn’t fair?
I know I can’t,
But I want to.
I wish I had,
But I couldn’t.
My love for you,
Lost to death.
Your faith in me,
Forgive me please,
My heart won’t mend.
The first person who bought my e-book has written a review!
India is of the modern era. It is the ‘I’ in the BRIC countries routinely referred to by commentators as the fastest growing world economies. 65 years after the country achieved independence India has truly come of age.
And yet its customs and traditions live on. The perceived middle classes may have embraced the Internet, mobile devices, flat-screen TVs and social media but family values still run deep. Sue Ghosh, in her entertaining novella, illustrates these values by reference to her own family.
We meet, sometimes via her mother and at other times through her own young eyes, her grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. For better or for worse they are family and are connected. Firmly connected too. Here in the West we acknowledge grannies, aunts and uncles. We send them cards, sometimes visit or are visited. But rarely are they part of our day to day lives.
View original post 315 more words
She passed the salt shaker to him. He sprinkled a small hill on to his plate, causing concerned looks of disapproval around the table. Next, he asked her for the pepper dispenser. Thirty seconds later, his potatoes were black. She frowned and pushed her plate towards him. He grinned and asked for ketchup. The red-faced mother ordered him to consume the tastefully created Italian supper. “But mommy, how can I eat something that I can’t even pronounce?”