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They weren’t the toned, even muscular legs that most women had here, the result of a lifetime of walking on the streets of New York. Her calves had this curve that looked really soft to touch.
uhhhhhhh.....
There was no need to creep her out on the very first day of the field visit.
UHHHHHH......
“It’s not on every corner in my hometown. There is not even one Starbucks in my city. Hardly any cities in India have Starbucks, and Ahmedabad is not one of them. I’ve only had one Starbucks drink in my lifetime, and that was in Mumbai, when I got my visa to come to the US. So, sue me if I’m excited to get a Starbucks coffee.”
Every time he focused on me, my English started to trickle away, and broken, stumbling words came out. Thankfully, he probably misinterpreted my awkwardness as me stumbling speaking English, immigrant and all, and didn’t comment on it.
Mo was my first Chinese friend. Aida was from Kenya. Just like me, she was the only person from her country in our class. Dani was a cool American chick who had initiated a conversation with me on the first day of the class.
One google search will tell you that Mo is a surname, not a first name
For instance, Mo asked me, “What is this caste system in India, and how many gods do you have?”
Again, Chinese culture and mythology have so many gods, goddesses, deities etc that this just feels like a weird question
Sam was neither my boyfriend nor my best friend. I would call him a friend after the last two
days, but none of my friends in India had ever bought me a coffee.
But I never knew that writing a research paper could be so difficult. I’d never had to write a research paper for my bachelor’s in India, and now I had to write five in just one semester.
More than three months had passed,
but it's only october?
There were a few groans at the mention of bottle gourd. I had to admit, it was an ugly, green-colored goop.
“What’s a BMW?” I asked, just to confirm if her dad was indeed talking about the car. Akira exclaimed, “I asked him the same thing. And you know what he said? BMW stands for Black, White, and Muslim. His only request was for me to not bring home a guy who is Black, White or Muslim.”
“No shit, dude. I love her,” Luke blatantly declared. At my severe frown, he added, “For you. I love her for you.” “You don’t need to love her for me. Stop saying love and Akira in the same sentence. She is mine.” I didn’t care if it sounded crazy, but I had worked hard to get Akira to agree to give us a chance.
Akira had become my best friend before she became my girlfriend. I
Tell me one thing you know about her that goes deeper than the surface level
He pushed my sweater to the side and sucked my shoulder.
WHY?!
My silence seemed to embarrass her, so I quickly composed myself and told her, “Please, go ahead. We can continue after you’re done.” She frowned. I pointed to her bed as I took a seat. “I’ll just wait here, baby.” She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Sam, I have been coming home every time to poop.” What? That’s it? All my agony over the past few months—where she was going, who she might’ve been with, what could she be doing—was over poop?
I couldn’t help but compare them to the men in my family. Not once had I seen any men in my family help the women. I had never seen my father or uncle make even a cup of tea on their own. Seeing such glaring differences in culture opened my eyes to how different and normal and wonderful it could be when a man and a woman shared their life instead of living a shared life.
🚩🚩🚩🚩
It was Sam who I saw. Holding me. Dancing with me. Marrying me. Having kids with me. Doing the boring, adult stuff every day with me. Getting even crankier in his old age and snapping at the nurse as we rested on separate beds when we were ninety.
We talked a lot about India. Sometimes funny quirks and lifestyle stories. And sometimes the sad and unforgiving nature of the overpopulation in India.
“If I take your last name, my name would be Akira White,” she said, and snorted again. “The fucking irony.” A loud laugh burst out of me. She again mumbled “Akira White” and snorted. Mumbled. Snorted. Mumbled. Snorted.
December was near.
HOW IS IT STILL NOVEMBER???
Maybe because we, Indians, were brought up to believe that our sole purpose in life was to make our family proud. And by doing anything that went off that course—no matter if it led to our happiness—we were committing an unforgiveable sin that would be an ultimate demise for our family.
It’s the first time we had been separated for six months.”
I hate her parents. I hate her culture and values that bind her so much. I hate it.
This is what happens when you put down Indian culture so fucking much
“Fuck, man. That’s fucked up. I’m never going for an Indian girl,” Luke said. “Not helpful.” I glared at his nonsense talk and continued, “What did Akira say?”
My grandmother pulled off her glasses, brought my phone close to her nose and looked down. “He’s so white, Akira,” she said, her face awestruck. “Show it to me too, Bhavana.” My grandfather took the phone from her hand. He did the same with his glasses. “Akira, he looks so much fairer than you, doesn’t he, Bhavana?” “Yes. Akira, are you sure about him? He will look better than you in the wedding pictures,” my grandmother said with all the seriousness. Like that was the biggest obstacle for me right now.
I was at the same spot where Mom and Dad had welcomed me into the warmest hug.
The arrival and departure terminals are the same then?!
too. Although, you don’t need to worry. You aren’t asking for their daughter’s hand. So, you can expect to be treated like a king. We Indians love impressing the foreign people.”
ughhhhhh
Before I could come to terms with the dinner of the day, Akira brought in another container filled with tiny, rounded, green and yellow things. Fucking hell. What is up with the color of their food?
