His Favorite Color

He said my eyes are your favorite color. “Brown?”, I questioned puzzled. No, he smiled as he pushed my hair out of my face. Your eyes are the color of whiskey and copper against honey. Hazelnuts and gingerbread like the feeling of coming inside from the harsh winter winds to be wrapped up in blanket…

Look of Wonder

I wish I could see myself the way you spend moments looking at me. The way your eyes gaze over my every movement as I get ready as if you’ve never seen this dance before. “I love watching your process,” you gently whispered in the hollow of my neck before putting on the Tiffany’s necklace…

Scent

Scent is our most primitive sense. It is so fundamental to our lives from the ones that trigger childhood memories or the ones that help us capture those perfect moments in time. If sadness had a scent it would smell like an abandoned house no longer filled with laughter. If anger had a scent it…

The Wall of Bengal

I have a tendency to become enamored with those who are difficult to understand, who are dreamers but share themselves sparingly and rarely with their whole hearts. I become infatuated with the enigmas of people and their mysteries. Peeling away layers and finding clues to solve their wounds. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to…

Morning Glory

As soon as the sun rises and I open my eyes welcoming another day, my mind finds you sitting there knowing I’ll grab you the first moment I get. It’s hard starting my days without you. It’s as if life and light doesn’t exist if you don’t consume me, sometimes burning my tongue on the…

First Love

When I ask you to name your first love, I’m hoping you eagerly say your own. Imagine how beautiful it would be if your heart was proud of itself? If it remembered that the Universe gave up time with the moon and sun to create you from its celestial pieces. All this magic, just so…

Ami Bangali (I am Bengali)

Where are you from? That question is possibly the most familiar chorus I’ve heard my entire life. From people all over this country to those who speak my mother tongue. My question is where do I start? The early days when my khaki wrapped the shari around me and adorned me with gold necklaces bigger…

A Song For You

As I boarded the plane my stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels and my anxiety seemed to be climbing a mountain with every minute. This wasn’t a bad feeling but more of an over excitement of seeing you after so long. It felt like ages had passed by since I last touched your face…

To: My Best Friend By Blood & Choice

It was a nice breezy September morning in 1997 as the wind hit my face to welcome me to my first day of Kindergarten. Daddy was holding my hand as he walked me trying to make me feel better about the first day I would be away from him and mom for the entire day….

Home is Where the Heart Beats

As I’m boarding yet another plane to go home I almost stopped to question what that even meant to me at this point. I find myself so busy that my apartment has become somewhere I get my 8 hours of beauty sleep. So in reality do I even consider that “home”? According to the dictionary,…