Author Archives: nuancednadia
Shanghai Battle Scars
I begin to count the scars on my body as soon as I hail the only cab I spot from the hotel’s courtyard. Dadi, I hear myself say. The first word I learned in the Shanghai dialect. A cigarette burn … Continue reading
Displaced in Delhi at 17
Sometimes I close my eyes and try to imagine the irregularly shaped rectangle of sky I encountered as I lay my soaked head back on the steps leading up to the roof. The coolness of the painted concrete was the … Continue reading
A Day at a Liberty Avenue Hair Salon
“Keep yuh head straight,” Natalie tells me after first straightening it herself in the sink she’s washing my hair in. I wince. Since I’m in town I decide to get my hair blown out straight, just because. I like my … Continue reading
History’s Hidden Quarters: A Review of Gaiutra Bahadur’s Coolie Woman
There are some books which infiltrate one’s skin, which burrow deep underneath layers of tissue and stay there. Then there are others which rip the skin from your body and recreate that being which is you. Gaiutra Bahadur’s Coolie Woman: … Continue reading
Gyaffin in the Wake House
Guyanese wakes are the best part of dying. Gyaffin galore. To gyaff is the Guyanese-Creole English equivalent of chatting, storytelling, gossiping. I come from a family of people who like fuh gyaff, storytellers. Gyaffin at wake houses take on a … Continue reading
Beauty and the Beholder
When I was a kid I discovered my birthmark, you know, the way Columbus “discovered” America. The color of powdered Ovaltine, it embellishes my right calf just above my bony ankle. It is the shape of an oblong nebula or … Continue reading
14 Hours in Kuwait International Airport
Oceans away my relatives were celebrating my cousin’s wedding to her Gujarati boyfriend. A phone call from my mother was enough to conjure images of sea green saris, red dupattas, and gold threads running laps around pointed shoes in the … Continue reading
Sometimes if I try hard enough I can still smell the sharp scent of gasoline lacing the air, wrapping its jagged arms around my nose. I can still feel the thin layers of dust envelop my body—like a thousand fireflies … Continue reading
Questions
I never know the right answer to certain questions. There is one question which follows me much like my shadow follows my body. Takes only four words to ask it. Perhaps I should back up a little. It is not … Continue reading
Dis Place, Dat Place 