The Fiction of truth, the truth of fiction

SAMAR magazine published my story Waiting for Rain in Issue 13: Come Africa About SAMAR Magazine  SAMAR (South Asian Magazine for Action and Reflection) strives to bring forth critical and dissenting voices related to South Asia and the diaspora through analytical essays, editorials, journalism and the arts.  SAMAR's fundamental commitment is to promote social and economic justice.  SAMAR was launched in 1992 as a print magazine to give voice to progressive and radical perspectives on issues affecting the South Asian community such as communal violence and the plight of working class South Asians. You can find the story archived in the South Asian American Digital Archive (SAADA).

I make absolutely no profit off this, but if you really want to read my article, you can get it from Routledge. Here is the journal South Asia . Author: Sushma Joshi Affiliation: New School University, New York DOI: 10.1080/00856400108723442 Publication Frequency: 3 issues per year Published in: South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies, Volume 24, Issue s1 2001 , pages 157 - 175 Subject: South Asian Studies Formats available: PDF (English) Also incorporating: South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies (Series 1) Article Requests: Order Reprints : Request Permissions

This has been translated in the Dutch magazine ODE. It is archived here: De smaak van vroeger Een westerse Nepalese vindt haar verleden terug in Kathmandu . Sushma Joshi | 27 juli/augustus 1999 issue Ik loop over de stoep langs de drukste straat in Kathmandu en zie hoe een vrouw met wit haar grote groene bladeren uit een mand haalt en op de grond legt. In mijn haastige tempo - meegenomen uit New York - zie ik ze haast niet liggen en dus moet ik er op het laatste moment overheen springen. 'O sorry, ik lette niet op,' zeg ik en loop al door als tot me doordringt hoe lomp ik net was. Ik loop terug. 'Waarvoor zijn die?' vraag ik. 'Vanwege de geboorte van een zoon,' legt ze stralend uit. 'Wat geweldig. Gefeliciteerd. En wat gaat u met dat eten doen?' vraag ik, omdat me nu opvalt dat er kleine porties voedsel op de bladeren liggen. 'Straks komen de kinderen, die nemen het mee,' licht ze toe. Ik voel een plotselinge genegenheid voor deze blije...

Published in the Utne Reader , 1997         Walking down the street from Putalisadak, on the side of the busiest road in Kathmandu, I see a white-haired woman, dressed in a patuka and choli, putting big green leaves that she is taking out of her basket onto the ground. I, walking down with my New Yorkian stride, almost fail to notice them, and have to jump over them at the last moment.         "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see," I say, and am walking by when I realise the rudeness. I walk back. "What is it for?" I ask. "It's for the birth of a son." she explains, beaming. "It's for a son." Did you get him, then? I ask. Yes, she replies, beaming some more. Yes we did. That's wonderful news, I say. Congratulations. And what are you doing with the food, I say, noticing now that the leaves are filled with tiny portions of food. "The children," she explains. "Children will come and get them." I feel a sudden kindnes...