Not so poetic (in fact one at all!) but here is a thread on my ordeal over last few days. Pl read n share this thread on #COVID19 #testing #healthtec and #bureaucracy . Its sad and if it could happen to me, it cld happen to anyone. You know that feeling when someone calls (1/9)

https://twitter.com/Soni_Razdan/status/1381150890522931200

on ur cell frm the next room. It was my son n sure enough he was sick. High fever, backache. I quickly called the app company we’ve been using for Covid testing. Its called Klinik app n with a paranoid husband, travel n mom, we’ve done 20+ tests with ‘em. Many reminders (2/9)

I have never been given to nostalgia, but it has taken me overwhelmingly in the last few hours...like a broken dam of memories...so a thread about the girl that was, that never will be. My earliest memory is of my great grandmother dying. I am told I was 2.5 yrs old. I do not remember her at all but I distinctly remember the shrivelled body in white in the courtyard n all the women crying. I recall the men leaving with the body and the women bidding goodbye

Since this generated some interest, let me share that it took me a lot of growing up (and world travel) to start appreciating my family’s food. I say family, because just like language, there is no #Bihari food. This is the story of my grandparents n food n let me say it briefly

https://twitter.com/shinjini9/status/1250126918684495874

She was 13, raised by a young widow who had 2 daughters. No man in the house meant no proper cooking. So milk and rice was a decent meal and gur was a great dessert! He was 11, eldest son of a beautiful, arrogant, eccentric (she went stark mad when they lost the estate) woman.