As some may have noticed, I haven't uploaded on this blog for a while. I have made the decision to move to a newer website. I have added many new pieces to that website and am hoping you will make the move with me! I am still in possession of Sweet Lemons as it is on this blog, the other website just gave it all a new look. Here's the link: milinair.substack.com See you there!
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Take A Sip
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*** This story does provide some Indian background of an Indian household. I wanted to give some context to what a few things I mentioned mean. Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham is a hit Hindi movie from 2001 that is a rom-com. Kheer is a north Indian version of rice pudding. Nani is the north Indian way of referring to one’s mother’s mom (grandmother on mom’s side) Dal is an Indian lentil dish. Chole is an Indian chickpea dish. Malaysian paratha is an Indian bread that is served with dishes such as Dal and Chole. Gulab jamun is a traditional Indian sweet. Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is a hit Hindi movie from 1998 that is a rom-com. I sit there, with my cozy blanket wrapped around me, watching Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, listening to the soft pitter patter of the rain outside my window, glancing at the brightly lit up Christmas tree in our living room, and filling my mouth with each bite of the warm and fresh kheer my Nani had made for me. We had just gotten back from a trip and I was refreshed to be
Spirits
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I see colors and displays made with great passion and curiosity. I think about the pain and sacrifice as well as the heart and spirit that went into it all in a matter of seconds to weeks. I wonder how through everything we humans are and everything we destroy, that spirit seems to find its way through. And we call that spirit, art . -Mili Nair
Pure, Little Me
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I excitedly pressed the red button on my mom's phone to start the video recording on the camera app, then rushed over to the Alexa on the other side of our black marble kitchen counter. I requested the Bollywood radio station that I had memorized due to my dad playing it every time we cooked, danced, and just lived ever since we moved into this house. As a Hindi song started playing that I had a memory of listening to before, I skipped to the center of the kitchen and stood on the tan, plain wood floor as I double-checked to see if the camera was recording my every move. When I was sure it was, I started wiggling my fingers and legs in every which way possible to recreate some of the Bollywood dances I had seen in movies. With each word sung on the radio station, I would pause in the most dramatic ways, like I was a famous actress performing live for millions. I spun, twirled, and whirled, swayed all ways, and added my version of ballet to the mix. It was a true collection of