The Halls and the Msimangs in New Delhi We are living at Riverside Drive in Nairobi. I bicycle home from school on my olive green Raleigh bike, cooling in the wind, taking the curves, with a quick twist heading down the slope of the shared driveway. Turning left, I cross the gravel, brake, dismount and then lean the bike against the wall. In the kitchen, Mom and Dad are waiting; Andy and Chris too. My parents are both excited. " We've got something important to ask you. Something knells inside. It is mom who asks. Boys, would you like to go to India?" This is the first time they have ever ask us for our permission to uproot. We are all content in Nairobi - happy, even. India? I think of the pastel blue and pink exteriors of Gujarati-Kenyan houses. My Gujarati - Kenyan (1) friends are are all called Patel; they are neatly dressed and their heads smell of rosewater; Patel mothers make Patel boys soft. That's what I know. But then our Indian-Keny
Left wing commentary from the heart and the head