Ma comes to stand beside me, and our intruder makes a clucking sound of disapproval. “This one worries me, Ranee. She’s very secretive.

Thanks, Ms. Liberty! Is that a sari you’re wearing? I hope not.

Good humor pokes fun at the powerful – not the weak.

There’s something about putting words on a page in private that makes me feel powerful in public.

There's something about putting words on a page in private that makes me feel powerful in public.

Nothing makes you feel more beautiful than a sari.

Thanks, Ms. Liberty! Is that a sari you're wearing? I hope not.

I wish the Ganges could wash the grief from my heart, but it can't.

Where am I from? Can the answer be stories and words, some of theirs, some of mine?

I began to feel that this city is my home. It came nearer to my heart, not so distant. That’s how it started, but now it’s different. I am enjoying making friends my age in my church-non-Bengali friends who don’t know the customs that keep a widow so lonely.