In the busyness and blur of my wedding day, apart from my husband’s ugly one-time mustache, there is one thing I remember so clearly. It was from the sermon that was preached at the service. The preacher spoke about making a home and about hospitality.
I get to be part of this small gang of about six to seven families. It’s a close-knit group, with the families becoming a part of each others’ lives in a very detailed manner. And therefore, yes, too many people
Having grown up with only a sister for a sibling, I always wished for a brother. And my wish was granted when I married my husband, because his younger brother became mine. My brother-in-law (henceforth called N) is four years
“You can get your partner to lead however you want; kick him or tell him the next move, but you do not lead!” joked our dance instructor, addressing the women in the salsa class. My husband and I signed up
A version of this article first appeared in Her View From Home. Not too long ago my husband and I attended a marriage conference. Well, to be more precise, some bribing and coercion may have been involved in getting the hubbers there.
Blink! Blink! my cursor goes as I pause to reconsider my decision to write about this emotional struggle I’ve been dealing with. But that’s how I’ve always been. Mostly on the fence. Always second guessing myself. Always having to be
She came from a small village in Kerala. So small that it didn’t even have a train station. That was where my great aunt grew up in the 1930’s, the youngest of six children, among paddy fields and coconut
Dear Thatha (a tamil word meaning grandfather), One of my earliest memories of you is how you used to tell me stories to put me to sleep at 1 am when my parents were too tired to deal with me.