Life as an Immigrant
Articles and essays about the immigrant life.
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Immigrants and Social Distancing
Long-distance relationships with parents, siblings, grandparents, friends, and relatives are part and parcel of an immigrant’s life.
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Memories of Autorickshaws and Amrutanjan
I flex my memory muscles because these reflections make up the un-severed umbilical cord that binds me to my homeland. Flashbacks are all I have to keep me connected to my native country. If I let go, I will bleed and die.
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Five Minute Friday – “Culture”
I wanted to do or say something to comfort him. I wanted to tell him that I understood how it felt to be discriminated for being different. I wanted to hug him. But I froze.
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Going Back Home – Part Three – Mixed Feelings
“Did you go home this summer?” asked a friend who was meeting me after a long time. It took me a few moments to catch up with her train of thought. Of course, she meant India! I told her I had had a great time with family and that I was glad to be back home, in America. Home. To many immigrants, home is more than just a physical house with four walls, it is a representation of all that is familiar and personal. Visiting home means making a trip to our former homeland. Home, to many of us, means a familiar country, culture, people, streets, smells, sights, sounds, and…
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Lament at the Border Wall
This article was written in response to what I witnessed and experienced at the San Diego-Tijuana border. The peacemaking trip was organized by The Global Immersion Project during the weekend of October 5-7, 2018. Dear God… You say that You hold the world in Your hands You say that You are King of kings and Lord of lords You say that I should come to you With my prayers and praise But I come to You now with an offering of anguish, anxiety, anger I come to You with questions, with lament beyond words And praise is hard in the midst of this turmoil inside Why have You…
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Going Back Home – Part Two – Being an Ambassador
I never knew I was an ambassador. Nobody told me that that was a huge part of an immigrant’s life. A few years ago, an Indian immigrant was in the news for shooting his professor and then killing himself. As much as I was saddened and shocked by the incident, I couldn’t also help thinking, “He makes us all (Indians) look bad. This is not who we are.” In a strange twist of events, it turned out that I knew the mother of the victim. We went to the same Bible study. I don’t know why but, after I paid my condolences, I apologized to her. I told her I…
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Going Back Home – Part One – At Home with Homesickness
I visited India about a month ago after having been away for a year and a half. I was pining for the smells and sights of Indian streets bustling with people, autorickshaws, and street vendors. I was craving for the noisy family chatter, with Indian Idol airing on TV in the background. I was longing for conversations with old friends, over chai and biscuits. I was homesick. In India, the monsoon did not disappoint. It quenched my thirst for home. I soaked myself in the spices of my mother’s kitchen and in the pollution of Uber-infested streets. I was drenched in languages that rained familiar words on me. I was…
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Ask or not to ask?
“What happened to your cheek?” I asked casually and instinctively. My friend appeared to be surprised at my question but recovered quickly. “It’s an allergic reaction to something I ate. It was so bad that I had to cover it up” she replied. I stared at the band-aid on her cheek, genuinely concerned for her. Not long ago, I had an ugly allergic reaction too. Like my friend, hiding indoors was not an option. So I ventured out with a band-aid on the bridge of my nose, embarrassed and afraid of attracting attention towards my problem. But nobody asked me any questions. None at all. When friends or strangers spoke…