Have one of my pieces published in the recently released Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul: On Friendship, and very, very excited. Below is an excerpt of my piece from the book:
The first night in my new home, I couldn’t sleep and kept tossing and turning in the bed. I suddenly felt like a child who’d been snatched from the loving arms of his mother and sent to live with grouchy relatives.
The initial months were the hardest. I had no friends and no job. My housemates, all Australians, wouldn’t include me in any of their plans, proving to be exactly like I’d pictured them to be: boorish and stuck-up. They would invite their friends over and have dinner parties, while I’d quietly sit in my room with a bowl of Maggi noodles (one of the thing that was within my budget). No job meant no money to dine at a nice restaurant, or indulge in chocolates, or even a pint of beer (or anything I could do without). I was depressed and would often cry pressing my face against the pillow. I wanted to go home.
To stop feeling sorry for myself I’d take long walks. On one such evening, I saw a group of pigeons pecking at grains strewn around by passersby. Grays and whites, all cooped up in one corner and then, there was a brown one, on its own – much like myself, I thought. It reminded me of the way I had lunch at the University – sitting alone on one of the vacant benches, looking at others who always seemed to have someone to talk to. I bought a pack of popcorn and spilled it in front of the bird. At once, the other birds swooped in, sidelining the brown one again. I stood there awhile wondering whether it too came from India and lost its way.
You can buy your own copy here: http://tinyurl.com/3jnnxn2