Searching for Signs of my Mother.

Night.

Why does the sky never get dark around here?

I mean, dude, they call it midnight black for a reason.
But around here, nine o’clock is ash gray and midnight is battleship gray,
But I’m looking for those bullets in white. They told me
you are a star now Continue reading “Searching for Signs of my Mother.”

Advertisements

My Mother’s Story

Found this a random flash drive. I think she wrote this for some kind of project a church friend was doing. 

My Story

I was born in a middle class Orthodox Christian family in Central Travancore. My grandfather, a very religious person, used to pray seven times in a day and he inculcated in us a strong faith in God since childhood. My parents worked hard to raise their four children. I grew up watching the hard work of my father, a gazetted officer for the state government and the diligence with which my mother, a housewife, took care of the household. She took great interest in making sure that we did well in school. Continue reading “My Mother’s Story”