The lost land by Mia Schlichtling

I can’t eat a mango without thinking about my nani ma, my Indian grandma. As its golden juices trickle down my chin and cling to my fingers in sticky drops, I recall her words. Describing how as a child she would pick the fruit from the graceful tree in the garden, devouring the sun-soaked fruit … Read moreThe lost land by Mia Schlichtling

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