This morning while I lay in bed blinking away my jet lagged eyes I took a moment to savor the familiar chirping of the birds and the energy of a Delhi street; I involuntarily relaxed knowing I was back home. The tranquility was short-lived. Sirens punctuated my state of bliss. Once. Twice. Far too many times. We're living through hell in India. The only thing that makes me feel better is that I am here too.
Middlemarch
A book review written a year after the book was read is not a review per se. I cannot bank on a spontaneous rush of thoughts. I no longer ha...
