Pulitzer Prize winning author Jhumpa Lahiri's work(s) have become an obsession of late. Her latest novel, Unaccustomed Earth is rich with thoughts and stories that cannot be quickly forgotten! A rather (brutally) honest reflection of the lives of Bengalis in The United States. The following are her words from the novel (that I am deeply fond of for apparent reasons).

Sudha had no fondness for her younger self, no sentimental affection for the way she had looked or the things she had done. She had looked of course, perfectly ordinary, her black hair worn in pigtails or braids, grown to her waist...And she had done ordinary things: played clarinet in the school band...And yet she could not forgive herself. Even as an adult, she wished only that she could go back and change things: the ungainly things she'd worn, the insecurity she'd felt, all the innocent mistakes she'd made. 137/ Unaccustomed Earth/ Lahiri, Jhumpa

There is something queasy about coming back home to India. It is not the scorching heat outside, the mangled traffic on the roads or even the invisible odor that hovers around you throughout the day...It is the uncanny ability of people to impose their ideas and opinion on you. In the past week alone there have been moments, moments where I have wanted to scream in rage and wondered if I had the jutsu to inflict similar tortures on them. But of course I am an over-absorbing married woman that belongs to a middle class brahmin family. So it might be a better idea to wear my bindi and tolerate the claustrophobic company of presumptuous people...