Posts from the “India” Category


Posted on January 28, 2017

A couple days ago Aaron and I watched Lion at the movie theater. Scenes filmed in Calcutta made every memory  of our time in India come flowing down like a river. We squeezed each others hands in the dark, instantly our eyes filled with unspeakable emotions.

Our time in India was a huge soul stretch, a beautiful challenge.

Here are some photographs I dug out from my hard drive.

Much resilience and hope. I love my Indian friends.


T for Taj

Posted on March 12, 2013

…and the Taj A love story, a tomb a marvelously carved marble jewelry box of art. It most certainly could be “a teardrop in the cheek of eternity” as the great poet called it.  It is most definitely what everybody says it is.  It is also a story of a broken family and if the myth is true, if the builders’, masons’ and artist’s hands were cut off in order to prevent the Taj’s reproduction in any way– then, it is also a story of deep- seated pain and incredible sacrifice. We woke up early in the morning to cross the sandstone wall that divides a dusty and hectic Agra into the world of the Taj. We had a tiny cup of chai that we bought on the…


Posted on March 9, 2013

Sometimes in India you feel the “Dorothy, fasten your seatbelt ’cause Kansas is going bye bye.” Other times it is the mouth wide open in overwhelming awe to the magnificence and uniqueness around you. It is sort of like you are on a big wheel, you may feel underwater as much as on top of the world. Or at least that’s how I felt last week. My sister and Horacio came to India and we were Jumanji -swallowed as if trying to catch up with the two decades my sister-in-law said she had waited to come here. Walking on a moving train, stepping onto magnificent white marble, sipping from the same water bottle, getting a flat tire in the middle of nowhere, grinning as we…


Posted on February 22, 2013

I have a list folded really small in the back of my mind closet, hidden away; there I write down the things that make me afraid. Wearing a sari was on that list. The idea of being wrapped in yards of cloth made me immediately claustrophobic. Yet the fact that millions of women wear it is marvelous and a triumph– I came with this hyperbolic answer after I wore one myself this week. A lovely antique Daccai Jamdani sari, which is traditional of West Bengal and which I also borrowed from my friend. My waking faintly hinted to The March of the Penguins and going to the Loo was like a performance of modern dance, but I made it. A late-twenties Prom. I rocked it! If I may say so myself.

The wearing of the sari is almost like a religion, with its rules and regulations yet as all religions, it has a fair amount of leeway that makes it that much more complicated if you are a newbie. What color to wear for what occasion and what material, and way of draping it over you, so many details that for generations have made Indian women look like they are always on Fashion Week, and that goes for all women, rich or poor; in fact I have found the pretties color combinations on women who are definitely not rich and who perhaps are a bit more free in their color choices end up in the cover of my VOGUE magazine. I should be the Calcutta Sari Paparazzi.

So a friend invited me to her friend’s mehndi (henna skin decoration) party as it is traditional before a wedding, which by the way, I was also invited to– because in India the hospitality it is such that you don’t have to know people more like 5 minutes before they invite you to be part of their most important ceremony. Yes, we need to learn a lot from the East.


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