If I knew how, I would have loved to upload J's name in birdsong as a ring tone for my mobile phone . Until then I have to content myself with knowing that it can be done. Surely some geek at the workplace will take pity on my tech-retardedness (in some other language there may be a word that describes the combination of being technology challenged combined with the irrational fear of new gadgets much more succinctly) and help me out. Whatever the accuracy of the algorithm being used, English translated to birdsong sounds perfectly delightful.
An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t
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