Bark of the Mango Tree
I was born brown, as brown as the bark of the mango tree outside our house. I’d inherited Amma’s features—her round eyes and sharp nose—but not her wheat-colored skin tone…. Read more »
I was born brown, as brown as the bark of the mango tree outside our house. I’d inherited Amma’s features—her round eyes and sharp nose—but not her wheat-colored skin tone…. Read more »
He adjusts his reading glasses on his nose as she places the Daily Dispatch on the table, and pours coffee from the carafe into her plain white cup and his… Read more »
It’s a Sunday. I’m collecting fallen gooseberries under the tall, shady tree outside our house. A rickshaw stops at the door. Safina Khala, my aunt—Ammi’s younger sister—steps out. She’s wearing… Read more »
I did not combine melted butter and eggs in the medium mixing bowl or beat the mixture with the hand blender. Did not add organic flour and sugar, breaking the… Read more »
She climbed the wrought-iron ladder and pulled a suitcase from the loft, the large maroon one her mother had once filled with beads and frills and embroidered napkins for her… Read more »
Published by ELJ Press in 12/2021: We wanted to wash our hair with shampoo, not with gram flour paste, the grains of which clung like lice eggs. We wanted pads… Read more »
Published by Roi Faineant Press. April was wearing a polka-dot scarf at the picnic where she fell in love. She untied the scarf and swirled it in the air to… Read more »