Aftershocks (Scholastic SCOPE)
An earthquake ripped apart her country. Now it’s ripping apart her family.
OLD ROSA by Reinaldo Arenas (Grove Press)
In the end she went out to the yard, almost enveloped in flames, leaned against the tamarind tree that no longer flowered, and began to cry in such a way that the tears seemed never to have begun, but to have been there always, flooding her eyes, producing that creaking noise, like the noise of the house at the moment when the flames made the strongest posts totter and the flashing frame came down in an enormous crackling that pierced the night like a volley of fireworks…
Mountains, Monasteries, and Myths: What I Discovered While Living in My Darjeeling Family Home (Catapult)
On a chilly Darjeeling morning, I sit in my grandmother’s living room. Billowy clouds sail past the 28,000-foot-high peaks of Mount Kanchenjunga, fifty miles distant as the crow flies. Sunlight spills through the lacy curtains, illuminating the thangka scroll paintings of the Buddha’s life that hang on the wooden walls.
Teatime in Darjeeling (Tin House)
A Notable in Best American Essays 2018 and featured in Lit Hub. Every morning in Tokyo, as the tile roofs of the neighborhood houses come into view, I put the kettle on for Darjeeling tea. When the water reaches a rolling boil, I pour it over the dark, crinkly leaves of the Camellia sinensis var. sinensis tea plant. Like the Japanese paper flowers Proust writes of, the ones that bloom when put in water, a world unfolds as the leaves steep and the musky, floral fragrance rises.
Traveling In Bardo (AGNI)
On September 13th, 2010, I lay in a Tokyo hospital, my joints aching and my skin burning hot. Only a faint glow of daylight penetrated my curtained cubicle. The routine of temperature-taking, breakfast, and doctors’ rounds hadn’t started yet, so the room was silent except for the beeping of monitors and an occasional rattling snore from the elderly woman in the next bed.