Journey Into My Soul
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I wake up with the view of sunrise on water. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. Then I remember; I am alone on Isla Del Sol, in Lake Titicaca, the second highest lake in the world, and … Continue reading
Memoirs
Why We Write
I have not won the Pulitzer prize. I have not published a book. Yet from time to time readers ask me why I write or how I started to write or whether I can teach them to write. Alas, writers … Continue reading
The Pursuit of Happiness
I have the inalienable right to the pursuit of happiness. At least that is what the United States constitution says. Have I exercised that right? I am not sure. Growing up, I don’t remember my parents telling me to be … Continue reading
Longing for My Mother’s Home
I called my brother the other day to ask, “So when is the wedding?” My nephew is engaged to be married and I have been awaiting word about the big date to plan my trip to India. “It is complicated, … Continue reading
The Mother I Never Knew
Published by: New America Media Editor’s Note: NAM contributor Sarita Sarvate went back to India to take care of her 85-year-old mother, who had suffered a stroke. A week after she returned to California, her mother passed away. Now, Sarvate … Continue reading
Spatial Dislocation
SARITA SARVATE, Jun 10, 2008 Amy Tan once said that the moment her feet touch China, she becomes Chinese. When I go to India, I become Indian. Sort of. On my first morning back, I walk out of my childhood … Continue reading
Festival Season
My childhood memories of Nagpur are marked only by festivals. The onset of monsoon rains heralded Bhulabai, or little Goddess. It was the first festival to dawn on my consciousness, perhaps because it was the one reserved exclusively for girls. … Continue reading
My Magical Vidarbha
In his famous epic novel One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez talks about a mythical town abutting the marshland of Colombia, where people had never seen ice and where the only source of knowledge of the outside world … Continue reading
Radio Days
If I were to write a memoir, it would be choreo-graphed with the sounds of radio providing the background theme. When I was a baby, I would tug at my parents’ sleeves whenever we passed by a shop playing a … Continue reading
The Velvet Dress
When I was a little girl, I was fascinated by velvet. The fabric seemed to me to symbolize opulence. This was before the advent of nylon clothes in India; before polyester shirts and colorful synthetic saris became fashion statements. At … Continue reading