I am three and a half at the time of  Mahatma Gandhi’s assassination in Delhi. Blurry images linger. Daddy and his friend, Mr. Diwan Chand, visit the cremation site. I tag along. It’s a few days later but the crowds are jostling each other. Daddy’s friend is carrying flowers and I watch him drape a ...

When does a grown-up learn to express themselves in a manner acceptable to society? Imagine me, a 33-year-old, enters a coffee shop, and screams, “I WANT COFFEE.” I continue to shout, “I WANT COFFEE” for 15 minutes. Fellow coffee drinkers scoot further away from me, in case I am mentally insane. Others stare, mouth agape, ...

The photo above is of my daughter sleeping. Yes, she is half on the couch, half standing, and fully snoozing. I have several pictures of my little ones in surprising slumber stations. When they are in bed and I check in on them later in the night, I giggle because kids can doze like contortionists. ...

Kids seem to have a bottomless pit of questions.  “Mommy, do you like it?” “Daddy, look! Is it beautiful?” “Did I do a good job?” “I made it for you.” Youngsters seek positive affirmation from their parents starting from the moment they are born. Erik Erikson, a renowned psychologist, identifies eight stages of psychosocial development ...

Hospitals are not always a fun place to be. Visitors liven the place up and make a sterile room more welcoming. As a bedside nurse with 10 years of experience, I witness a plethora of gifts for patients and see how presents elevate the spirit of the sick. Flowers are among the top choice for ...

“Five more minutes, kids,” I tell my four and six-year-old at the playground. “Aw, can we have an extra ten minutes?” asks the older sibling, Potato. “Sure,” I answer. “Ten is a lot of time,” Boobers, the younger one, exclaims excitedly. I let them continue to play for a while. Minutes tick away, and we ...

Wheelchairs cruising along dim hallways,the heels of white-cloaked saintsclicking with each deliberate step,carrying trays of food and medicine. A wailing newborn cry echoes among tilesborn into a world of chaos,sorrow, joy, and summer nightswithin the spectrum of life. A weary individual waits in a crowded room,He hopes heaven will answer his prayers,begging and pleading with ...

It is a challenge for patients in the hospital to connect with loved ones outside. When there is a sibling at home, the challenge is twofold. As a nurse with ten years of experience in the pediatric intensive care unit, I often see parents wanting to bring siblings to visit. Sometimes visits are feasible, other ...

The apartment I was born in was off a dead-end street in Queens, New York. My parents referred to the street as “The Magic Street”. It gained its magic because of the lack of speeding cars coming in and out. The light traffic gave my parents peace of mind when we were outside. I felt ...

The young woman traced her fingers over the two reels and slid the cartridge that contained her fabricated image into the mouth of The Memory Box. It was half past ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. There was plenty of time before the post arrived. She cleared her throat and switched the recording device on. ...