Immigration Stories: Personal Essays

H4 Visa and the Shock of Migration – a personal account by Ashwini Gangal“The DSM should have a separate classification for migration related depressive states. At some level, you’re grieving for the life you left behind…”

Stories from the Diaspora: So this is what being a ‘washerman’s dog’ feels like, huh? ~ by Ashwini GangalMy first trip back to Mumbai after moving to California a year ago, helped me define the newfound plurality of my immigrant identity. Just before I sat down to write this, a quasi-column on my thoughts about my first trip back to India after having spent a year away, I slathered Parachute coconut oil all over my parched face, the only efficacious remedy for the weird dryness of California. This sort of grease-fest in a humid place like Mumbai, my home for over three and a half decades, is unthinkable.

Diaspora Stories: Making love to chai with words...by Ashwini GangalDoes such a thing as a perfect cup of chai even exist outside our imagination? As I write this piece, I have a steaming cup of chai within reach. Sadly, it’s smack in the middle of average and awful. I made it myself. It is better than chai tea latte but let’s not go there.

The Migratory Melancholia of the ‘Dependent Spouse’ | KQEDAn H4 visa holder in the South Bay reports from the emotional trenches of modern day immigration.

A Mumbai Girl Finds Her Yash Chopra Moment At SFO International AirportMy tryst with a dating app swept me up from Mumbai on the West Coast of India and tossed me on the West Coast of America.

A Visa-Seeking Atheist Locks Eyes With Mahalakshmi Awaiting a U.S. visa, Ashwini Gangal, a non-believer, found herself in the presence of a “live” Goddess Mahalaxmi. Or did she?

‘Navigate’ Is an Overused Metaphor | EssayAnd Other Observations From a Native English Speaker Who Relocated From India to the U.S.

‘Ash’ is not my ‘white name,’ I swear!Much ado about three letters that run soul-deep… By Ashwini Gangal Few days ago, I responded to an email, getting back to a book publicist in New York City with my address so that she could dash off a galley to me next month. “Dear Cindy,” it began.

Stories from the Diaspora: So this is what being a ‘washerman’s dog’ feels like, huh? ~ by Ashwini GangalMy first trip back to Mumbai after moving to California a year ago, helped me define the newfound plurality of my immigrant identity. Just before I sat down to write this, a quasi-column on my thoughts about my first trip back to India after having spent a year away, I slathered Parachute coconut oil all over my parched face, the only efficacious remedy for the weird dryness of California. This sort of grease-fest in a humid place like Mumbai, my home for over three and a half decades, is unthinkable.

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