The first time someone asked me if I was a “Hindi,” I felt a heaviness in my chest. I felt it come back when I walked into a department store and saw T-shirts with “Namastay in Bed” and “Namaslay”...
Beauty has been chronically difficult to define. Nebulous by nature, its form floats adrift like clouds across a capricious sky, lacking clear borders, resisting prediction. For three months now, I have...
