A compilation of pieces including personal essays as well as narratives sparked by creative prompts.
“Simply being humans, individuals regardless of what we were born with, bares our compassion. Poverty affirms our mutual humanity. I was going to remember this place, I thought—and not with sadness. With hope.” ~An Accident of Birth
“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.” ~Seminal Sartorial
“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.” ~Rubber Band
“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.” ~Childhood Obsessions
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;” ~taking refuge in numbers
“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?” ~reality of realities
“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?” ~lung-vwij