I’ve never been good at napping. On the rare occasion I am able to doze off in the middle of the day I normally awake irritated, disoriented and decidedly unrested. This trip proved to be no exception. After visiting Sarkapalyam in the morning, we returned to the hotel to escape the mid-afternoon sun. I lay […]Read More The Police
The drive to her neighborhood is quick. It feels too quick; I’m unprepared. I thought I might have time, 15 minutes at least, to gather my thoughts. I realize, during our 3 minute ride, that I really haven’t thought much about what I would say if we do find this woman, and if she acknowledges […]Read More There Sits a House Part 2
There is only one video I am aware of, of my father. I am sure there are others, but only one I’ve seen since he died over 14 years ago. The video is of my sister, when she is in middle school or early high school, interviewing my father about adopting me. The night before […]Read More The Night Before Leaving
Being on a 15 hour flight is a little like hell. It is hard to believe it will end. Time ceases to cycle in the familiar ways. The sun still rises but it means less. Meals are brought out in what feels like arbitrary intervals and arbitrary purposes since I haven’t done anything to work […]Read More We Have Arrived
There Sits a House, illuminated by a flash. Bathed in artificial light. The roof is metal, worn, in visible disrepair. This house sits on an uneven dirt road. Flowering shrubs sprawl across the front creating a beautiful barrier, separate from passers by but not private, just distant. A few exhausted lines run from the rafters […]Read More There Sits a House
Resemblance is a strange concept. It overflows with subjectivity, devoid of neutrality or impartiality. Colored and formed in the image of past experiences. Reliant upon availability heuristics. They say I look like her. I don’t know how to understand that phrase. What does it mean to see yourself in others or them in yourself if […]Read More They Say I Look Like Her
Less than an hour after the brief Skype conversation with Arun and Anjali the advertised email with a handful of pictures pings into my meticulously curated inbox. I hate having unread messages in my inbox, it feels like dishes pilled on the counter, calling for attention, guilt by neglect. The normal nag of this red […]Read More Fragile.
Months ago, in therapy, I told Dr. R that I had some emotional fantasies about reunion allowing me to close a chapter in my life. Allowing me to move on to the rest of my life, clean and simple. In some ways not pursuing reunion feels like it is holding me back. Not being in […]Read More To Reunion or Not