A compilation of pieces including personal essays as well as narratives sparked by creative prompts.
“The music won’t be anything like what you would want from us, precise and perfect, entirely adhering to your lifeless guidelines of the maestro, but infused with something that doesn’t like to be constrained by rules. It’s bouncy and uncaring and energetic, and it’s what music is supposed to sound like—full of life.”
“But then I started feeling like I was wearing a different person than who I was. The frugal shopper who pounces on red-lined tags and discount aisles didn’t coincide with the teenager covered in designer attire.”
“We draw distinctions between people who are like us and people who are not, entirely unintentionally and subconsciously. With the former, we make brown jokes unabashed, laugh deeper and longer, greet people in our language. How could you blame my parents, immigrants who sometimes missed home?” ~A Common Thread
“My hair was a statement within itself, obtrusively demanding of me to try harder, to push further to compromise its nature, but I could not.”
“So I clung to my comic books with a kind of childish stubbornness, because they allowed me to belong somewhere. I considered this rich, majestic history of kings and queens and warriors to be my own.”
A series of pieces about the immigrant’s child— each plays with a different form, including text interspersion, a patient health questionnaire, and exploring the conventional appearance and syntax of language.
“numbers are my defense; facts are my armor; statistics are my excuse;”
“Our reality is shaded by an infinite number of realities. Every action of mine, however joyful or disastrous, occurs
simultaneously with death and birth and love and hatred and fear and hope. If I were to consciously exist every second,
conscious of every other action happening simultaneously with my actions, would I really be existing?”
“I lost the mother of my tongue. When I travel to India, my English, Americanized to perfection, belies the color of my skin. Foreigner, they think. Are they wrong?”
“The words that came out next were AN ESSENTIAL ATTRIBUTE heavy. Just two words OF PRIVACY, both heavy and simple. The truth and the unknown about to become known. A secret that she’d hidden AT
THE CORE, no longer a secret.“