Early, much much too early most morning I watch you breathe in, breathe out, my ears tense for any change in pitch, any unusual rasping. Much too soon the day begins and with it your labored coughing. The kid syrup antibiotic has been measured and now the bottle is empty, we take recourse to traditional remedies and I pray turmeric and ginger rev up your immune system and give you the strength to challenge, to fight back and vanquish, and it is afterall, only a cold. As ailments go, this is but a cold, but one that has lasted too long, or so I think. I fuss too much.

On the to-read list: Mirrorwork. An anthology of Indian writing.