‘I was her friend even before I was born.’ This thought raced in my young mind as my mother, and I crept silently to Lily’s mother’s room. The room was huge, with a high ceiling and windows with ledges and ornate
‘I wish I could do it. It needs so much strength and courage. I don’t have it’, stated a random stranger, admirably pointing at my shaved head. ‘Well, you just need a barber to do this, not really courage’, I responded.
Our husband and father, Brendon Gooneratne, passed away in 2021. He had had a fall on June 12th and was recovering in a hospital close to home, with excellent care and medical attention. We had been upcountry for 18 months, due
The sofa smelled like toast. My head had been forced into its corner. The upholstery was frayed in this part, and I could see a tiny brown piece of bread tucked into a crevice in the cushion. This would be the
Nothing prepared me for motherhood. Nothing at all. Not my 20 years of professional experience, nor my 17-18 years of experience of running the household for my mother who hated the job, nor taking care of my father through his one-year
It was cool and breezy with intermittent rains on 14 July 2022 – Mumbai’s maddening monsoon showed its divine mercy on my father’s funeral. As I recited the Quran and let my tears flow, I couldn’t help but marvel at the
Palanimuthu Sivakami or P. Sivakami is a bureaucrat turned writer, feminist activist and political rights campaigner. She writes about Dalit lives, with a special focus on the problems encountered by Dalit women in rural Tamil Nadu. She believes Dalit women are
Soon after my first birthday, my mum died of a sudden heart attack, leaving my heartbroken father with ten children to care for. I was the youngest, and besides my incredibly patient and caring father, I had many older sisters
The Tangled Roots of Identity “In all of us, there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage – to know who we are and where we came from.” Alex Haley As I watch my young son grow in a
Once, while returning from a conference by the metro bus in the bustling city of Istanbul, I witnessed a fair-statured woman with an autistic girl getting in and taking their seats in the rear. The woman appeared in a perfectly calm disposition;
In March 2022, my friend Chandita Mukherjee sent me this photograph taken 45 years ago. Two bright-eyed young women in their twenties, sitting on the edge of a crescent moon, gaze upon the viewer, a slight smile on their faces. The