Indira Ganesan

Writing, books, and coffee

Author Archives


author As Sweet As Honey (NY: Alfred A. Knopf), February, 2013 Inheritance (NY: Knopf), 1998 The Journey (NY:Knopf), 1990 All available from Vintage & Beacon Press

    First Day of Class

    There was a plan.  Drive to the station, find a parking spot, take public transport, pick up copies of my syllabus , and go to the class I was teaching with time to spare.  But where would my syllabus copies be?  There were two choices, and thinking I was being efficient,  I checked my department mailbox, housed in the building I would pass on my way to class. It took […]

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    I have an idea that happiness allows one to express oneself without fear.  It requires a lack of bullying. It requires an effort, a tending, A vigilance. There is spontaneous happiness, of course: waking to snow falling, raindrops on roses, bright furry kittens. Humor, Kindness to oneself, others. Love. As verb or noun. May this New Year be without fear. And more love.

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    Pockets of Comfort

    This is a snowless, sunny Christmas eve, with the trees bare. Red winterberry peek through the liched-laden branches, though, and sky is a mix of soft grey and blue.  Days like this in Cape Cod make me glad for my pockets of warmth.  On my coat, certainly, for as Coco Channel said, women need pockets, and female clothing hardly included them.  My pockets are also the tiny shops I frequent, […]

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    First, cake

    Two months ago, I attended a Symposium on South Asian Art at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, and at the Arthur M. Sackler Museum at Harvard.  These images are from an illustrated  manuscript from Bundi, Rajasthan, c. 1660-80.  My photography is imperfect,  not always capturing the full image, as I  wondered, too, about the rationality of capturing  an image in an image.   The vibrant reds, the brilliant […]

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    November, for me, is a month of transition.  The surprise and delight of fall leaves on the Cape has given over to a duller gleam today, a more muted beauty.  Just a few days ago, the vividness of the trees and skies left me breathless, in the northern light that strikes here around four or five in the afternoon.  Soon, the days will get colder still, the leaves will blow […]

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