December 23, 2019December 28, 2019 2min readBy Kavita Rai
So where does Donald Trump’s impeachment leave the state of the union? By the House of Representatives (a Democratic majority) impeaching Trump we, as a nation, are reinforcing that no one should be held above the law.
Trump’s criminal actions:
-endangered our national security
-undermined the integrity of the next election
-violated his oath of office to uphold the Constitution
Now, the Senate must vote to remove him from office.
Now it is up to the Senate to conduct a trial, which will ultimately decide on Trump’s removal. Given that the Senate has a GOP majority, the likelihood of Trump being removed from office is minute. So why do we celebrate impeachments?
We celebrate impeachments because they matter—regardless of how impeachment could affect the elections of 2020 or if it will remove a president from office. It is crucial that there is some level of judiciary accountability for the president. It sets precedent for the government to acknowledge when enough is enough. To me, Trump’s impeachment represents so much more than legal consequences. Although he was not impeached for his discriminatory epithets or crude rhetoric, for many Americans—especially minorities—impeaching the president means he can not get away with everything. And that matters.
Throughout his presidency, Trump has made citizens grapple with what the American identity looks like. He stood behind a crowd of people, nodded assuringly, and condoned the chant “send her back” on the attack of U.S. Representative Ilhan Omar. He says if we don’t like America, we can leave. This hateful and exclusionary tactic to divide the nation is not new.
In 1976, my mother was told to “go back home, refugee” in the first grade. As a six-year-old who barely knew English in America, she was terrified. After September 11, 2001, my father was told in his workplace to “go back to where you came from.” Like most immigrant parents, my mom and dad feel the joint burden of having something to prove in the United States while simultaneously feeling the effect of being dislocated in their own home. There are hundreds of stories like these, and it is even worse in Black and Latino communities.
Collectively, people of color have had to endure feeling unsure or at unease about who they are allowed to be in America. No matter how much an immigrant succeeds in this nation, the superficial factors deemed un-American such as the color of one’s skin or the choice of one’s religious headgear continuously seem to invalidate their “American dream.” Trump’s impeachment shows them that he can be taken down and given consequences to his actions.
Impeaching Trump doesn’t fix the problem, but it is a step forward. So we can celebrate an impeachment of a president, but also understand that there is still work to be done.
Affinity groups are popular in many American high schools and colleges for students who share a common identity to create a community. Students can celebrate, talk with people who relate to certain issues, and advocate for causes important to them. Intersections of identity like race, gender, ethnicity, culture, sexuality and more, are what affinity groups can be created around. While affinity groups are often celebrated, they are not always supported by academic institutions. There are quite a few instances of affinity groups being banned in high schools, in the US, on the basis that they further divide students by race or ethnicity, limit free speech, and put kids in “boxes.”
However, this is rarely the case as affinity groups are seldom pushed on any students and are usually required to be open to all, even if one doesn’t share the identity the group is centered around. Affinity groups not only offer a community, but also increase awareness about a certain culture and create representation in a school for students who may not always feel seen. They also allow for students to be intellectually pushed as they navigate leadership, collaboration, activism, and how to have respectful discourse.
How can you become an active member of an existing affinity group?
Joining an affinity group can often be daunting, especially as a kid who is new or has been too nervous to join in years past. However, this space should be welcoming and excited for participation! You may start by attending a meeting, an event they are hosting, or being active in any outreach the group is doing.
If you want to become a more active member or leader in an affinity group, planning activities and events are crucial to a successful group. Here are some ideas:
Celebrating holidays is the easiest way to help bond an affinity group and allow others outside of the group to join the fun! For example, Holi is a fun and exciting holiday that many South Asians celebrate. It’s a pretty easy set-up and a fan-favorite of non-South Asians too! Just make sure you are inclusive with the holidays you celebrate (such as celebrating both Hindu and Muslim festivities if you have a South Asian affinity group) and also take some time to educate others on the meaning behind what is being celebrated.
Another simple idea is to connect over movies, TV, and music! For example, showing classic Bollywood and Tollywood films can be a great way for kids to bond over nostalgia and immerse themselves in a culture through media.
Food is the best way to get people to come to anything as well as a super fun way to showcase a culture. Potluck events are fun and exciting, and will probably garner a big turn out at any school! Collaboration can also elevate the range of food you have such as a Pan-Asian or any other regionally-themed potluck. Trust me, your line might be out the door, so this can be a good fundraising opportunity too!
Speakers are a great way for a more serious event that students can learn and obtain opportunities from, especially during notable dates like the AAPI, Pride, or Black History month. Speakers can talk about how their identity has impacted their career, explain how they’re fighting for representation or equality, teach students a cultural instrument or dance, give advice to students, and so much more! Creating student or teacher panels are also another easier set-up that can be incredibly impactful and help your school understand what needs to be done so students and staff feel more heard.
Though not all affinity groups have dance or performance groups affiliated with them, some do and can showcase their talent! Additionally, putting on productions that feature talent from the school as a whole but relate to a certain identity can also be incredibly interesting and another avenue for collaboration. Examples could be a production dedicated to all cultural dance styles, martial arts, drag shows, etc!
Fundraising is usually quite important for affinity groups. Students can conduct ‘bake sales’ of cultural foods or drinks, sell decor or merchandise, or assist in deliveries of food from a local business. Being creative with fundraising can really help boost profit and allow for so much more fun.
Outreach is important
Whether you’re starting your club up again in the fall, need a boost in membership, or want people to come to your event, outreach is key. Some affinity groups have designated members for outreach, but regardless, it’s important to do as much as you can.
Of course one of the best ways to reach other young students is through social media. Having an Instagram or Facebook page for your club can help get the word out about upcoming events or meetings, and members can repost on personal accounts for further outreach. Posting before and after events, and always remembering to take pictures, can definitely boost engagement and involvement with your affinity group. (P.S. it’s always good to have some Canva skills in this case.)
Speaking of Canva, flyers around the school are another great way to get word out. Though it feels like everything is digital nowadays, students wander hallways endlessly every day! Seeing a well-designed, clear, and informative flyer about an upcoming event a few times daily can definitely increase odds of participation.
Making sure teachers and other administrators are aware of an upcoming event or holiday can also be super helpful! Spreading awareness about an upcoming cultural holiday or an upcoming event during a morning announcement or on official online forums administered by staff can be a great way to make sure that people know.
Of course, conflicts are bound to happen in affinity groups but it’s important to be prepared.
At times it’s possible that your affinity group leaders aren’t taking on the responsibility they should, which can lead to less representation in your school, decrease membership, or simply lead to inactivity. If you see this happening, try and step up. Do your best to get your affinity group involved again in the school and actively plan things. This can be done by collaborating with other groups so there is more shared responsibility, talking to an administrator about your concerns, or taking charge of planning an event. Whatever it is, get active and try to find a small way in which your affinity group can involve itself in the school community at large.
Sometimes affinity groups can get a bit competitive or try to step on each other’s toes during the planning of a collaborative initiative. This can be especially difficult if both groups share a larger identity and struggle to make space for each other. Of course, talking to an administrator may be the only way to resolve larger conflicts but make sure you’re being respectful of other’s time and are clear about delegating tasks during planning stages. At the end of the day, both groups share similar goals, so be assertive if you’re feeling the collaboration is not going smoothly and be clear about what you need.
Decreased membership can be a result of multiple reasons. It’s important to identify that cause so you can rectify it. Common reasons may be inconsistent meetings, lack of actual events and activities, uninvolved leaders, toxic group environment, non-inclusivity, genuine scheduling conflict with other clubs and student activities, or lack of new students/freshman involvement. Each of these reasons have their own, unique solution but it’s important to do the work and identify the problem. Don’t be afraid to ask someone why they stopped showing up and consequently shift meeting times, increase outreach initiatives, change leadership, or do whatever else is necessary to rectify some of the problems that’s affecting membership. Quarterly or semesterly check-ins through surveys or in-person talks is a great way to check in with existing members about their experience in the group and take any measures necessary to prevent further reductions in participation.
Inclusivity for affinity groups can mean a lot of things, like being open to all as well as acknowledging other identities within the umbrella identity as a whole. For example, a regional affinity group like a South Asian one needs to acknowledge the culture of different countries, languages, and religions it represents. Though you may not be able to do things like host events for every single holiday, maybe post on social media about a few more. If you are celebrating a certain holiday, include the way it’s said in multiple languages. In addition, make sure you’re being respectful and use your space to educate as well as celebrate. If you’re inviting people to celebrate a holiday, make sure you explain what it means. If you’re offering food, talk about where the food originates from. These things can make a huge difference in how people feel represented.
Affinity groups are important to foster a school environment where students feel heard, represented, and a sense of belonging. Taking the steps to be active in one can truly make a difference, and it’s imperative to support and uplift others as we continue to create more spaces so that everyone gets a seat at the table — even in high school.
In celebration of Kirthana Ramisetthi’s second novel “Advika and the Hollywood Wives,” BGM literary editor Nimarta Narang is publishing this short story by the acclaimed author. This piece chronicles the evolution of a writer’s life through their ever-changing author’s bio. In the details, from the change in last name to the new address, we observe how Gigi grows into Genevieve and the life events that make her into the writer she becomes.
“My Picnic,” published in the Oakwood Elementary Storytime Scrapbook
Gigi Maguire loves strawberries, “Smurfs,” and being a first grader. Her favorite word is ‘hooray.’ This is her first short story.
“Sunshine Day,”published in Oakwood Elementary KidTale
Gigi Maguire is a fifth grader in Ms. Troll’s class. She loves writing stories more than anything in the whole world, except for peanut butter.
“What Rhymes with Witch?,” published in BeezKneez.com
Gigi Maguire is a high school junior living in the Bay Area. Her favorite writers are Sylvia Plath and J.K. Rowling. If she can’t attend Hogwarts, she’ll settle for Sarah Lawrence or NYU.
“On Her 21st Birthday,” published in LitEnds
Gigi Laurene Maguire is a writer and recent graduate from Sarah Lawrence College. Her favorite writers are Sylvia Plath, Alice Munro, and Mahatma Gandhi. She is making her big move to New York City in the fall.
“Valentine’s Day in a Can,” published in Writerly
Gigi Laurene Maguire is a freelance writer who loves the written word, Ireland in springtime, and “La Vie En Rose.” She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey.
“Unspoken Ballads of Literal Heartbreak,” published in Weau Dunque Review
Gigi Laurene Maguire is an assistant editor at ScienceLife.com. Her work has appeared in Writerly and is forthcoming in Pancake House and Schooner’s Weekly. She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey.
“The Mistress of Self-Loathing,” published in Story Day
Gigi L. Maguire is the editor-in-chief of Small Business Weekly. Her work has appeared Writerly, Story Day, Pancake House, and Schooner’s Weekly. She’s currently working on a novel about witches. She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey, with her tabby cat Sabrina.
“The Distance in Your Eyes,” published in The Canton Review
Gigi L. Maguire is a freelance writer and digital marketing specialist. Her work has appeared in Writerly, Story Day, and is forthcoming in Idaho Centennial. She’s working on a novel and a short story collection. She lives in Hoboken, New Jersey.
“Auspicious,” published in BookWorks
Genevieve L. Maguire’s work appears or will appear in The Canton Review, Mark’s End, Bishop Quarterly, and Idaho Centennial. A second runner-up for the Imelda Granteaux Award for Fiction, she is writing a novel and a memoir. Genevieve lives in Brooklyn.
“Meditate, Mediate,” published in Ripcord
Genevieve L. Maguire’s fiction appears or will appear in BookWorks, The Canton Review, Berkeley Standard, and elsewhere. A graduate of Sarah Lawrence College, she is an MFA candidate at New York University. She lives in Brooklyn with her boyfriend and their two cats.
“Chaat & Chew,” published in The Carnegie Review
Genevieve L. Maguire’s fiction appears in Ploughshares, Ripcord, The Cambridge Review, and elsewhere. She received her master’s in creative writing from New York University. Her short story “Meditate, Mediate” has been optioned by Academy Award nominee Janet De La Mer’s production company, Femme! Productions. She lives in Brooklyn with her fiancé, their three cats, and a non-singing canary.
“Urdhva Hastasana Under a Banyan Tree” published in The Paris Review
Genevieve Maguire-Mehta’s fiction has been hailed as “breathtakingly lyrical” by Margaret Atwood. She is the recipient of the Whiting Prize for Short Fiction and an Ivy Fellow. Her fiction has appeared in The Carnegie Review, Ploughshares, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband Manoj in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
“Reaching New (Jackson) Heights,” performed by Lana Del Rey on NPR’s “Shorts” series
Genevieve Maguire-Mehta’s fiction has been hailed as “effervescent” by Alice Munro and “breathtakingly lyrical” by Margaret Atwood. She is the recipient of the Whiting Prize for Short Fiction and an Ivy Fellow. Her work appears or has appeared in The Paris Review,Elle, The Carnegie Review, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband in Park Slope, Brooklyn with their feisty menagerie of animals.
“The Bhagavad Gina,” published in The New Yorker
Genevieve Maguire-Mehta is the recipient of the Whiting Prize of Short Fiction and is a McClennen Arts Colony scholar. Her work appears or has appeared in The Paris Review,Elle, and elsewhere. She is currently working on a novel. She lives with her husband and daughter in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
“When Two Becomes None,” published in American Quarterly
Genevieve Maguire’s writing has received dozens of accolades, most recently the Luciana Vowel Prize for Female Fiction. Praised by Alice Munro as “effervescent,” her work has appeared in more than twenty publications, including The New Yorker, and The Paris Review. She lives with her daughter Priyanka in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
“The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path,” published by Capricorn Rising Press
Genevieve Maguire is an award-winning writer whose work has appeared in more than thirty publications, including The New Yorker and The Paris Review. She lives with her daughter in a 100-year-old farmhouse in Woodstock, New York. “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path” is her first novel. Visit her website at genevievemagauthor.com.
“Hairy Arms and Coconut Oil,” published in MotherReader
Genevieve MaguireDunblatt is a novelist, homeopath, and part-time yoga instructor. She has seen her critically-acclaimed short stories published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband Benji and daughter Priyanka in Jacksonville, Florida.
“Priya Pinker’s Mother Gets a Life,” published by Capricorn Rising Press
Genevieve M.Dunblatt is the author of two novels, including “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path.” An aura reader, faith healer, and yoga instructor, she has seen her critically-acclaimed short stories published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, and elsewhere. She lives with her husband in Jacksonville, Florida. Visit genevieveauthormag.com to learn more about her writing, and genevieveauthormag.com/hearthappy for her wellness services.
“Comma, Coma,” published in Read-A-Day Journal
Genevieve Maguire is the author of “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path” and “Priya Pinker’s Mother Gets a Life.” She has seen her critically-acclaimed short stories published in The New Yorker, The Paris Review, and elsewhere. Alice Munro has called her writing “effervescent.” She lives in Jacksonville, Florida.
“Next Stop New York,” published in The Lunar Reader
Genevieve Maguire is the author of “The Day We Learned Desire is a Winding Path” and “Priya Pinker’s Mother Gets a Life.” She lives in New Jersey.
July 7, 2023September 10, 2023 11min readBy Ushma Shah
BGM literary editor Nimarta Narang is honored to work with author Ushma Shah in this utterly creative and novel, pun not intended, story about a young woman who has just moved to the United States with her husband, and her trusted diary. Ushma is a short story writer and an aspiring novelist. She has her short stories published in a few anthologies and online literary magazines like Kitaab and The Chakkar. She was born in Mumbai and raised in Mumbai and Cochin. She has an MBA and works in the corporate world. Work and life have given her the opportunity to live in multiple cities in India. She currently resides in Seattle and goes by the handle @penthythoughts on Instagram.
She is the kind of person who doesn’t like to go into stores without a purpose. But she sometimes does. And that’s how she becomes a hoarder. She also prefers only tried and tested places. The kind where she doesn’t have to go out empty-handed. The urge to not disappoint people is strong. So she ends up buying useless things. Like a snow globe with a turnkey. Or 12. She loves the tiny magical people and animals in it. Rotating. Glowing. Musical. But I am deviating from the point. Who am I, you ask? I am her. A piece of her. She takes me everywhere. Writes down her thoughts in me. Writes how her day was. That’s why I know her so well. Why am I telling you all this? Because she hasn’t written for a week now. Longest she has gone in half a decade. I don’t understand it. She won’t tell me anything anymore and I am just so curious. No, curious is the wrong word. The intensity is just not right. I am impatient. Restless. Maybe even hurt, too? I see what she does. How she looks. But that’s just not enough. Not for me. Her confidante for five years and suddenly it’s all poof.
Human addiction is a true addiction. I was superior for those glorious thoughts that nobody knew about her. She doesn’t look happy. She opens and shuts me, picks me up and then back down. In her new Michael Kors bag she bought recently at a premium outlet mall. She always wanted to see a new country. 32-years-old and she had never visited any country other than the one she was born in — India. She should be happy she is finally here. She couldn’t stop chirping about it when they got their visas approved. She and her husband. She has been here for three months now. Initially, she was happy. But then the euphoria died down and anxiety kicked in. The last thing she wrote was: “I haven’t had a bath for a week now.” Her husband is too busy with work to notice. The new project takes up most of his time. Plus navigating life in a new country is a project in itself. I hear him not understanding why an appointment is required for a self-guided tour of the apartments. And that they have appointments only till 5 p.m. which means they have to go house hunting during his office hours. Downtown Bellevue mostly has apartments for rent that are managed by corporations rather than individuals. But at least he is okay with the cold, having survived Delhi weather all throughout his life. It also doesn’t help that she is not used to the cold, having lived in Mumbai all her life. It only needed to turn 22 degrees Celsius in Mumbai when she used to set off; removing her sweaters and jackets from the untouched-for-a-year cupboard. So house hunting is a major bummer, painstaking process even for her. In a place where it always drizzles but doesn’t bring the smell of wet mud. Everything around her is concrete. Asphalt. Sterile.
One day on their way back, they visited the Meydenbauer Beach Park along Lake Washington. I saw a hint of a smile. The first one in a week. The pine trees are a solace. They stand strong, holding their ground at maybe a 100 feet. She cranes her neck back and tries to catch a look at the tip. Making her feel dizzy. She feels like she is falling back. Tilting her five feet frame. She removes her feet from the shoes. She looks at the rounded stones. Big stones. The size of an ottoman big enough to comfortably sit on but hard enough to not sit for long.
But by the end of the visit, she looked worse. That night she wrote and I was thankful for the visit. The first sentence read: I feel claustrophobic. She has lived in Mumbai all her life and never knew that subconsciously the sea made such a big impact on her psyche. The sea, unending in its view. Its waves crashing and rebelling against the rocks gave her a sense of space even though she lived in a one-room kitchen apartment. The warmth. She missed the warmth, although sometimes too stifling. The sweat, and the saltwater smell. There was much to be thankful for here in Bellevue, even though there were no crashing waves and it was 45 degrees Fahrenheit today. The sand, too cold. But there was peace, there was calm. But what about the sounds that she craved, the feeling that stimulated her senses? That accompanied her every morning: the ‘tring tring’ of the cycles, the ‘tip tip’ of the water overflowing from the tank after it was filled. The daily TV news her Ma watched. The smell of her morning chai with grated ginger. The ting ting of her small bell during pooja. These are the things that she does not write but I know her. I know how to read between the lines.
But somewhere I have failed her. I must have. If she did not find comfort in writing. For how could she have gone on without it for a week? How could she? She is as used to me as I am to her. Or at least I thought that.
But now is not the time to feel irritated. She has started writing again. I was overjoyed; I thought everything would be back to normal now. How naive was I? A few lines in, and I am worried. I am also worried that my annoyance will seep through the pages and into her hands. She writes: I miss my place where the duration of the days and nights are almost the same throughout the year. A place where I don’t have to see a 4:30 pm sunset. Or a sunrise after 7:30 am. Nobody prepared me for less than 10 hours of daytime. I feel like I took the sun for granted. When I first came here in October, the sun set at around 7 p.m. Every day, the sun set a little early from then on. 6:50, 6:43, 6:22, 6 p.m., 5:54 p.m. And then on November 6 came the thing I was least prepared for. The Daylight Savings. I would gain an hour, they said! What I gained was a sense of doom. Because the clocks were set back by an hour, the sun set before 5 p.m. every day from then on.
The seasons are what make me. Why then, am I afraid of the seasons? No matter what the weather, the weather is constant. It is constantly too hot, or too cold or just not warm enough or just not cool enough. Every day in itself brings a new season.
“Oh, there is a heavy rain forecast for the whole day today.”
“Do you know it’s going to snow today?”
“Amazing weather! Isn’t it a perfect day to travel?”
Seasons are a universal language, everyone understands it. It transcends manmade boundaries. Just as I am feeling the cold under the layers of clothes I wear. A breeze rippling through the surface of the lake water makes me shiver. If the seasons are what make me, why do I feel cold and sad. Maybe because I long for a different weather. Having grown up in a tropical city, my body is not used to the cold. But is that all? The great reason for the hollow? It can’t be. And I am restless because I can’t figure it out. If not this, then what else? What else could it possibly be?
When she writes this I figure it out. I am always able to figure her out. Her mind does not want to go there. Because after all, this is the life she chose. Of course, how could I have been so blind?
Around two weeks ago I observed her. Observed and observed for a few hours. A few days. Even then I knew something was amiss. She was writing but her heart wasn’t in it. It was dwindling. She doodled and dawdled. A sentence here. A sentence there. Then I was discarded on the coffee table in front of her. My observations, you ask? She scrolls through LinkedIn, going through a series of posts about the looming recession. She searches and applies obsessively to 50 job openings every day. And day after day, her laptop or phone chimes in with a rejection email. She refreshes. Refreshes. Refreshes. Every 10 minutes. Whatever she is doing. No matter if she is in the kitchen or the washroom or the living room. She is glued to her phone checking for a new email. A new job opening. She set her filters to relevant job openings… And then goes on to the painstaking process of filling her details out on different company portals. When she reached the USA, she was hopeful. Of finding a new job. Was very optimistic. She had worked with global companies in India after all. Surely that had to account for something. But with each passing day, the light within her dimmed just a little. Bit by bit. I hate to admit it but I didn’t come to this conclusion when I observed her. It struck me when I stopped and she wrote again. Sometimes I need a macro perspective after micro is too much. She is so inside her head and not on paper that she cannot understand. But I also don’t think it is as easy to pinpoint. It’s a combination of things in her life, culminating in a single point of paralysis. Even now, who knows? It’s just my opinion of a subject I don’t understand completely. She is talented enough to fool everyone around her. Her friends and family also do not know this about her. They think she is enjoying her break from work. They think she is immensely enjoying the exploration of a new country without a worry in the world. She hates admitting that she is miserable. She wants them to feel that she has got it all together. That her life is perfect. When they go through her social media profile, they find her happy pictures. Ecstatic even.
A couple of months ago when she was leaving for the USA, her office colleagues had warned her: “One of my sisters lives in the States. She is miserable there. Wants to come back but her husband doesn’t.”
“He has a high-paying tech job and all so he is okay. But he is on an H1-B visa without an I-140.”
“So? What does that mean?”
“Which means the spouse can’t work. So she can’t work.”
“I am surprised you didn’t know this.”
“I haven’t started my research yet on the visa types and job search. But I intend to.”
“It is very important to understand your options. It is not always as picture-perfect as it seems. My sister is busy doing all the household chores. And she is not happy. Her social life was here. She has no friends there. Only his work friends they mingle with.”
“I know about my visa type though. I can still work there.”
“Oh, honey,” she gives a sympathetic smile, “but everyone wants to convert into an H1-B once they go there. So there could be a brief period where you might have to be unemployed.”
“But that doesn’t matter. Because we intend to come back in a few years. We just want to experience a different work environment and culture and to have that thrill of living in a new country. But only for a few years.”
“Honey, they all say that. As I said, consider your options once you are there before you decide anything. Okay?”
“I will, thanks. I am sure my husband would also check about these things. It is a major decision after all.”
“Oh, I am sure he would.”
She was very emotional on the last day of her job. She had worked there straight out of B-school. She had met some people who would become close friends and some who were toxic. But on the last day, she knew she would miss them all. She didn’t think that saying goodbye would be this difficult. Her name on the desk and chair in bright white letters with a black background came alive with memories. Memories of birthdays celebrated, lunches ordered, huddles and meetings, apprehension of deadlines, the adrenaline rush of getting it done just in time, the accolades. It felt empty by itself if not for the people she surrounded herself with. Her friends.
Her colleagues. They motivated her and pushed her to give her best. Her manager was always an inspiration. Solving problems and giving solutions in a way she herself didn’t think was possible. She learned a lot from each of them. But she was excited to begin a new chapter. But the isolation in a new country was what she hadn’t counted on.
Her husband noticed when she hadn’t had a bath for a couple of days. He thought it could be laziness. When he asked her about it, she said she would. Her reply was curt, and tone grumpy, so he left it at that. After a week of the whole no-bath scenario, her husband thought it was time to have a talk. This wasn’t one of those phases she would overcome on her own. A little push. A little nudge would maybe do her some good. When he saw her refreshing her Gmail inbox for the umpteenth time that day, he said,
“You know, we came to this country to experience a new place, a new city.”
“Hmm.” Eyes glued to the screen.
“Don’t you think it’s time to do that?”
He places his hand in front of her phone.
“What are you so worried about?”
She looked at him for a moment before answering. “That I won’t find another job. Every day on LinkedIn, there is a new company that’s laying off or announcing a hiring freeze and I am worried that my career break will just go on longer.”
“But weren’t you always saying that you needed some time off to pursue your passion of writing?”
“All that’s good to talk about. But I need to focus on my career too.”
“I understand that, but the recession is not your fault. You are doing everything you can.”
“I need to do more.”
“You need to get the bigger picture. Zoom out. You have a glorious opportunity to work on your writings. You have notebooks filled with stories. Don’t you think it is time you polished the pieces and submitted them somewhere?”
“What I need to do is get a job.”
“You will get it but the time that you have right now, in between jobs, is hard to come by. Think about it. You can try to do what you always talked about doing. Or was all that just big talk?” I could see, she took the bait.
She considered. “Hmm,” was all she said.
“I also found something for you.”
He had searched for a public library nearby. A magnificent three-storied red brick building standing beside a park. Just a mile away from their home. She could get herself a membership there. I thought this was an amazing idea. She had always wanted a house near a library. I could tell that this piqued her interest even if she feigned indifference to her husband. She wanted to see it first. I could see it in her eyes. And here I thought that the husband was too busy to notice her worries. I guess he was letting her be. Well, I couldn’t have guessed it. I can’t read his thoughts.
The next morning, she woke up to her alarm at 7:30 a.m. and had a shower. She was ready by 8:30 a.m., in time for the library to be open by 9 a.m. She was armed with her warmest winter jacket and a beanie. Wandered around the streets on her way to the Bellevue library. Taking in the strollers with their prams and pets. Warm coffees in their hands. In 10 minutes, she was standing in front of the library and was not disappointed. Covered with floor-to-ceiling glass panes, she could peer inside as she walked to the front door. She was also pleasantly surprised at a life-sized bronze statue of Mahatma Gandhi just outside the library; in the midst of now barren trees. There was ample seating space inside. Aisles and aisles of books: classics, romance, historical fiction, new interesting fiction and non-fiction sections, choice reads, monthly picks, and a dedicated holds section for reserved books.
Her husband was right. Isn’t this what she always wanted to explore? Read and write. Write and read. Surround herself with books and pages. She had found her place. She touched her fingers in reverence to the cracked paperbacks, reminding her of the piles of books she left behind at her place in India. She borrowed a few novels and set off with them and me in her backpack. Couldn’t resist a warm cup of coffee from a cafe she spotted. Picked a window-facing table overlooking a park. She read as she finished her coffee. A good girl’s guide to murder was a page-turner. It was the first time in months that she had ventured out on her own. She felt at ease. At peace. Her breath, a little lighter. A little deeper. She saw two dogs playing outside. Free and wild. She picked up her phone and googled bookstores and art galleries around. She found that a couple of independent bookstores nearby also host monthly book clubs and writing clubs. She signed up for them and started off in the direction of the art gallery.
I was happy. She was bouncing back. One step at a time.