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Space

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Breathe in, breathe out. This panicked mantra echoes through my head as I wrestle a pair of goggles over my eyes and squeamishly bite down on the mouthpiece of my snorkel. As someone who has been swimming for over ten years, my anxiety around snorkeling seems irrational. The uncomfortable restriction of only being able to breathe through my mouth nearly overwhelms me as I jerkily bob my head into the warm Hawaiian ocean current and silently beg my body to get used to the sensation. I feel my legs float upwards, breathe deeply, albeit panicky; and float off into the Pacific Ocean. Suddenly, I’m in utter bliss. https://www.timeforkids.com/g56/changing-tide/ Since I was young, the ocean has been a space that has enveloped me and grounded me in times of worry. From the rocky coast of Half Moon Bay to the soft white sand beaches of Florida, the ocean and marine flora and fauna captivate me in a way on another level than the rest of the natural world. By snorkeling, I have ...
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Food

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Decadent aromas of roasting onion, mashed garlic, and ground spices tickle my nose, making it crinkle. My dad is in the kitchen, dicing tomatoes my mother picked from our garden earlier that day. Precariously balancing six eggs on a plate, my sister huffs in impatience as she inadvertently drops one, proceeding to tip the remaining five into a pot of boiling water.  Smiling as I realize that we are preparing rasam , a South Indian savory tomato stew, I immediately head outside to pick some fresh cilantro.                                     https://food.ndtv.com/recipe-rasam-218325 Rasam is a staple in our household, eaten when we are sick to having company over. The relative simplicity of the recipe-- just tomatoes, onion, garlic, spices, and egg-- lends itself to the mouthwatering deliciousness of the soup. Especially on winter days, this dish usually makes an appearance on ...
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Belonging

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With cold stone floors, walls the color of terracotta, and the pungent aroma of the Indian restaurant next door barely covered by jasmine incense, my dance teacher’s studio is nothing out of the ordinary. Every Saturday morning since I was five, I’ve walked into this building, carefully slipping out of my shoes and tying a Indian shawl called a dupatta around my waist. I greet my teacher, calling her “aunty” as a form of respect, and make my way to the back to pray before my dance group and I start our dance practice. I learn Bharatanatyam, a form of Indian classical dance originating in Southern India about 2,000 years ago. As the daughter of immigrants, I’ve often felt conflicted growing up in the Bay Area, with pressure to keep in touch with cultural roots as well as conform to American practices. However, through Bharatanatyam dance class, I was able to explore my cultural niche in American society and truly feel as though I belong. Through learning this form of Indian cl...
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