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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 8, Number 2, June 2014


R. K. Sameer
Manipal, Karnataka, India

Faraway Sea

Every now and then I receive a surprise parcel from her. It always contains a long letter expressing love in words unused in our daily phone conversations, and a list describing the various American gifts in the package; things not found in India, many of which I have never heard of. Dried chewy turkey sticks. Halloween candies. Christmas tree shaped chocolates. Dried cranberries. Photographs of her room, her surroundings, her workplace, the route she traverses every day, the New Hampshire spring, summer . . . It has been nine months since she left India and every month she comes up with a unique Indian American, Hindu Christian name for our unborn children. Today in the letter I read them for the first time, written on nine different autumn leaves each a different shade of yellow, each about to crumble in the perennial south Indian heat.

raindrops in my hand—
the sea
I haven't touched



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