To live in an Indian family is to never be a stranger in your own life. It is to know that no matter how hard the world gets, there is a pressure cooker waiting with hot rice and a grandmother waiting with a story.
Meanwhile, the doorbell rings constantly. The dhobi (washerman) comes to collect clothes. The kiranawala (grocer) delivers a missing packet of salt. The neighbor’s daughter stops by to borrow a sari for a party. The boundary between "family" and "community" is porous. A neighbor is treated as an extension of the family. If someone is in the hospital, the neighbor will cook dinner. To live in an Indian family is to
Ten days before Diwali, the house is turned upside down. The "spring cleaning" is rigorous. Old newspapers are sold to the kabadiwala (scrap dealer). The mother is frying chaklis and chivda until 1:00 AM. The children are sent to buy clay lamps. The dhobi (washerman) comes to collect clothes