Book Review: “A House Without Windows” by Nadia Hashimi

Afghan women walking in front of a blue building image

I just finished A House Without Windows by Afghan-American writer Nadia Hashimi. These days, I gravitate more toward non-fiction and find it more engaging. Still, I’m not ready to give up fiction entirely. A House Without Windows was my fiction pick of the month.

What’s It About?

The story begins with a murder in an Afghan home. A woman, Zeba, is accused of killing her husband and is detained, with almost no chance of survival under Afghanistan’s strict laws for women in such cases. An Afghan-American lawyer, Yusuf, arrives in the country to connect with his roots, stumbles upon her case, and decides to defend her.

Thoughts

I really enjoyed the storyline, though I found the narration slow and somewhat predictable. What stood out most was how Nadia Hashimi portrayed the Afghan-American lawyer’s struggle to balance two cultures in America. This is a story familiar to many migrants. They want to embrace the new, yet can’t fully let go of their roots.

When Yusuf starts dating, everything boils down to one question: Will she bond well with my mother? That’s such a desi trait: wanting your partner to get along with your parents, and if there’s friction, it’s often the partner who pays the price. I also liked the part where he decides to travel to Afghanistan to reconnect with his roots, eventually making peace with the country’s imperfections, because where there’s love, hate doesn’t stand a chance.

The storyline is unique, with a blend of mystique, magic, and sacrifice. I wouldn’t say I strongly recommend the book, as I personally found it slow. However, what’s slow for me might be perfectly paced for someone else.

Ending this post with some quotable quotes from the book:

Alone and free of angst and sorrow
I’ve bled enough for today and tomorrow
Now it is time for my bud to bloom
I’m a sparrow in love with solitude
All my secrets contained within me
I sing aloud—I’m alone, finally!

SHE DID NOT REGRET THE CHILDREN, BUT AT TIMES SHE DID resent them. All mothers did, didn’t they? How could they not bear a little resentment toward people who took took took all the time? How could she be expected to feed them all? Where was Kamal when they were sick or tired or unreasonable?

Medicine is what this man calls his liquor
Strange is the remedy that only makes him sicker.

“And women?” she asked thoughtfully. “What is the world to us?”
Gulnaz offered a meek smile. “Do you not know, my daughter? Our world is the spaces between the rocks and meat. We see the face that should but doesn’t smile, the sliver of sun between dead tree branches. Time passes differently through a woman’s body. We are haunted by all the hours of yesterday and teased by a few moments of tomorrow. That is how we live—torn between what has already happened and what is yet to come.”

People only say nice things about the dead, so you never know what the truth is. You can be a brute in life, but the moment you die, all is forgiven. It used to make me mad, but now that I’m old and know what people say about me, I’m glad for it.

Men were always so frightened by their mortality that they obsessed over ways to live forever: sons to carry on their work, grandsons to carry on their name, their legacies in books, on streets, or in newspapers. Some became more desperate as their black hairs turned silver.

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Photo by Wasim Mirzaie

Netflix Anthology Review: Black Mirror (Season 7)

I had put off watching Black Mirror Season 7 for a long time, as Season 6 had failed to impress me. But on a friend’s recommendation, I decided to give it a shot. I’m happy to report that most of the episodes, except the last one, lived up to my expectations.

What’s It About?

Story 1 – Common People:
A devoted husband, unwilling to lose his terminally ill wife, uses a high-end new technology to keep her alive. At first, it seems like a miracle. But as with most modern tech, things soon spiral out of control. The couple is forced to confront the harsh reality of love, loss, and the consequences of clinging to the impossible.

Story 2 – Bête Noire:
An ambitious professional’s life is thrown into disarray when a former schoolmate unexpectedly joins her workplace. What begins as unease quickly escalates as unusual events unfold around her, sending her mental state into a downward spiral.

Story 3 – Hotel Reverie:
A popular actress, bored of dull roles, signs on to a high-tech film project that aims to recreate a classic movie using immersive technology. She steps into a world where she must play out scenes with virtual versions of the original cast. But the line between fiction and reality begins to fade, and the production eventually takes a dark and unexpected turn.

Story 4 – Plaything:
A socially isolated man is arrested for murder. During interrogation, he reveals his obsession with a computer game involving digital creatures. The more he cares for these forms, the more they grow. And the more they demand from him.

Story 5 – Eulogy:
A man is tasked with writing a eulogy for an old lover with the help of a photo-based immersive memory technology that lets him relive past shared moments with her. Some are joyful, others painful, and some reveal truths he wasn’t prepared to face.

Story 6 – USS Callister: Into Infinity:
A stranded crew battles for survival in an endless virtual universe. They are trapped in a multiplayer simulation, and they must outsmart other players to escape the loop and find freedom.

Thoughts

Though I enjoyed every episode in Black Mirror Season 7, my favourite was Plaything. The technology shown in the story is both fascinating and disturbing. The sing-song tune of the little digital forms adds just the right touch of eeriness. The lead actor delivers a convincing performance as the eccentric character ready to go above and beyond for his virtual friends.

The season as a whole highlights how technology can go wrong in unexpected ways. It drives home the point that in the pursuit of something “better,” we often overlook the risks that come with it.

I didn’t find the final episode particularly interesting. Probably because outer space-themed plots don’t usually appeal to me.

Overall, I would say Black Mirror Season 7 is worth a watch. All six episodes, each about an hour long, are streaming on Netflix.

Interracial Romance and the Indian Mindset

I recently watched a thoughtful discussion by Zarna Garg on interracial romance, featuring her own family. Based in the US, their candid conversation offers a refreshing glimpse into how Indian-American families are navigating such topics. It was heartening to see everyone, parents and kids, engage so openly. In many Indian households, these conversations either happen too late or not at all, often wrapped in hesitation or silence. But here was a family talking honestly about dating, identity, and interracial relationships. A big shoutout to them for their openness and clarity. It’s these dialogues that make a real difference.

Watch the video below:

Thoughts

I’ve spent most of my life abroad before choosing to return to India. Yet even while living overseas, I always knew my relationships would be with Indian men. Perhaps it’s because I studied in an Indian school and mostly socialized within the Indian community, even outside the country. I look Indian, dress Indian, and speak with an Indian accent. So it was natural to feel more comfortable with Indian men.

However, in today’s globalized world, with increasing interracial mingling, millennials like me must come to terms with the fact that more non-Indians are likely to become part of our families. Someone recently remarked how the world is blending in such a way that you can no longer easily tell someone’s ethnicity. Even appearances are getting “globalized.” It was an eye-opener. I’ve come to realize this holds especially true in the Indian context. Today’s new-generation kids often no longer look or sound traditionally Indian, especially the kids in Indian metros. Their accents, fashion, and even body language reflect a more global identity.

A few months ago, a relative married a Spanish man, the first white partner in our family. Surprisingly, everyone, including the older generation, was welcoming. No drama. No resistance. That in itself feels like progress. Our extended family no longer fusses over caste or religion in love marriages. Marrying someone from a “lower caste” has become normal (though I personally reject terms like “lower” and “upper” caste, which are inherently divisive). Only a few super-senior relatives seem to hold on to rigid views, but even that seems to be fading.

I wonder if this shift is due to the older generation’s growing access to YouTube and social media. Many now watch global discussions on love, identity, and acceptance. One moment really stood out: a senior aunt watched Kaathal, a Malayalam film about same-sex love, and casually remarked, “Being gay or lesbian is fine. It’s not a disease.” That kind of acceptance would’ve been unthinkable even a decade ago. But it’s happening now, and that matters.

More recently, one of my nieces fell in love with a white guy. It’s a bit more delicate because it hits closer to home. While I’m happy she found someone, I can’t help but feel a bit anxious. Our cultures are worlds apart, and it’s not just the couple that has to adjust, but the families too. At this age, do I or her parents have the patience? I’m unsure. On second thought, it doesn’t concern me or her family, as the relationship is hers to navigate. Still, as Zarna Garg wisely said in her family discussion, any relationship can thrive if the core values align: education, family, career, loyalty, and health. Everything else is secondary and can be worked around.

One comment from Zarna’s husband lingered with me. He mentioned that their eldest daughter has only dated white men, and he took it personally. He had read somewhere that girls whose fathers aren’t ideal husbands are more likely to do this. That struck a chord. My niece also has a pattern of dating white men, and to be honest, her father isn’t exactly the perfect partner either. Could there be a subconscious link? I wouldn’t dare bring it up now, especially since she lives abroad, but maybe someday in person.

There’s so much our generation is still figuring out. As millennials in our 40s, we stand between tradition and transition. We want to be open-minded and inclusive, but also grounded. At times, it worries us to see the younger generation drifting away from tradition. There’s a quiet fear: will our culture someday fade into oblivion? But these are changing times, and change demands a degree of acceptance. We may not always agree, but we must learn to adapt. I also see a growing trend among young parents today: trying too hard to be politically correct, often avoiding difficult conversations just to stay in their children’s good books. This might be a measure to ensure they don’t repeat their parents’ mistakes of being too restrictive. But experience teaches us that hard truths, spoken with love, are just as necessary today as it was yesterday.

Some of the advice I dismissed in my 20s now makes perfect sense. You only begin to understand your parents once you reach their age. That’s how life unfolds. You gain clarity with time. Until then, all we can do is trust, adapt, and hope it all works out in the end.

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Photo by Bhavitya Indora

An Ode to Calming My Monkey Mind Through Meditation

There’s so much bad news everywhere. Wars, riots, terror attacks, persecution, and discrimination. I don’t know about you, but I’ve started to feel helpless, knowing I hold no power to fix these problems. As individuals, there’s only so much we can do. What is in our control is how we express our views, calmly and with clarity. But even that becomes difficult when those around us try to silence any perspective that doesn’t match their own. They get aggressive. We get perplexed. It becomes a vicious cycle. One that’s hard to escape. It drains our time, disturbs our emotional balance, and pushes away those who genuinely want to understand us.

In the midst of all this, I recently attended an online yoga session on International Yoga Day. We meditated together as a group, and it turned out to be one of the most peaceful and calming experiences I’ve had in a while. The meditation lasted only 7 minutes, but it had a noticeable, immediate impact. I felt centred. It helped me go about the rest of my day with a calm focus, even while handling everyday chores or reading the news. This is new for me. For the past few years, my mind has been troubled by witnessing the coldness with which society operates. There was a lingering sense of doom that had become hard to manage. So when meditation helped soften that heaviness, even slightly, it came as a welcome relief. I allowed myself to sit with that emotion and savour it.

The guide assured us that the control over our minds would improve even further with consistent practice. He said that even just 7 minutes of daily meditation can make a noticeable difference over time. I’m still new to the practice, so it’s too early for me to say how lasting the effects are. But one thing I can say for sure: you feel noticeably better after just the first session.

What made those few minutes so calming was the simple act of focusing only on the breath and the space between the eyebrows. In that short span, there were no screens, no distractions. Just stillness. It felt like a small step toward making peace with myself. This is what I experienced in my first few days of meditation. I’m not sure yet if I can commit to doing it every single day, but it’s something I genuinely want to try.

I’m not the body, I’m not the mind

As we meditated, this chant of “I’m not the body, I’m not the mind” by Sadhguru played in the background, accompanied by soothing flute music. It felt like an invitation to disconnect from the body and mind, to simply let yourself be. You don’t have to react to everything. You can observe your experiences as an outsider, from a third-person perspective. Feel your emotions, acknowledge them, but don’t let them consume you beyond control so that you lose sight of logic.

If you’re interested in trying the same meditation, you can do it at home by downloading the “Miracle of Mind by Sadhguru” app on your phone. The session includes the same calming chant and ends with a short 1-minute video from Sadhguru, offering simple insights on daily practice.

Now, I understand some may have reservations about Sadhguru due to political or personal views, or unverified claims. But I’d encourage you to look past that and focus instead on what this practice can offer you personally.

I’ve tried other meditation apps too, but they often felt too Western in their approach. This one, however, feels grounded in Indian sensibilities, with gentle flute music and guided instructions that actually help you stay focused. In a culture where complete silence isn’t always easy to adapt to, this format works well. It’s thoughtfully designed for an Indian audience, making meditation more accessible and less intimidating.

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Photo by Yogendra Singh

Book Review: Convenience Store Woman

The protagonist of Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata is unlike anyone I’ve encountered in any book. Keiko is quietly charming, yet deeply unconventional. She’s content with her simple routine at a convenience store, a place she has worked for over 18 years. This does not gel well with people around her who expect her to climb the career ladder, or “at least get married”, instead of sticking to this “lowly” job. They are unable to comprehend her happiness or her emotional detachment in situations where strong feelings are typically expected. In her own words, she’s a “foreign object.”

There are parts of Keiko’s personality I could relate to, especially her tendency to operate more from the brain than the heart. I’ve often questioned this trait in myself, particularly in political matters, where I naturally lean toward a calculated, strategic view rather than reacting emotionally. This sometimes makes people see me as cold. But that’s where my similarities with Keiko end.

I tend to get deeply emotional about things that may not always move others in the same way. My responses aren’t absent, like Keiko’s. I cry easily when I see children being affectionate with their parents or when animals are hurt. I feel emotional and distraught when I see small children picking up guns or stones in conflict zones. I want them to study and grow up contributing to society in peaceful ways. I well up seeing warmth in society. For example, when the visually impaired children sang “Happy Birthday” to our Indian President Murmu, she cried, I cried, we all cried. I’m also deeply moved by the struggles of elderly people, perhaps because I’ve spent time with them and seen what many others, especially those living far from their parents, often overlook. I do feel deeply, just not always in ways others expect, a bit like Keiko.

If you are wondering what makes Keiko strange, this snippet from the book gives an idea:

I wouldn’t say I loved Convenience Store Woman, but it was certainly thought-provoking, especially how society treats you as a “foreign object” that needs to be discarded if you don’t follow the rules. Society insists Keiko must adapt to its norms to be seen as “normal.” It does not matter to them how fulfilled or happy she is. Keiko’s struggle to meet societal expectations forms the core of the novel. Many of us might relate to this struggle with conformity. Not everyone is wired to follow every rule or expectation to the letter.

Ending this post with some thought-provoking quotes from the book:

The normal world has no room for exceptions and always quietly eliminates foreign objects. Anyone who is lacking is disposed of.

He seemed to have this odd circuitry in his mind that allowed him to see himself only as the victim and never the perpetrator l thought as I watched him.

It occurred to me that it wasn’t such a stretch to say that contemporary society was still stuck in the Stone Age after all. So the manual for life already existed. It was just that it was already ingrained in everyone’s heads, and there wasn’t any need to put it in writing. The specific form of what is considered an “ordinary person” had been there all along, unchanged since prehistoric times I finally realized.

“Look, anyone who doesn’t fit in with the village loses any right to privacy. They’ll trample all over you as they please. You either get married and have kids or go hunting and earn money, and anyone who doesn’t contribute to the village in one of these forms is a heretic.”

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Photo by Caio

What I Learnt From Boston Marathon Bombings

As soon as I finished watching Netflix’s series on Osama Bin Laden, it recommended another American Manhunt documentary by Netflix. This one is about the Boston Marathon bombings. I had read about the attack before, but watching the documentary made a much deeper impact.

What Are the Boston Marathon Bombings?

The Boston Marathon bombings were a terrorist attack that took place on April 15, 2013, during the annual Boston Marathon in the United States. Two homemade bombs exploded near the finish line, killing 3 people and injuring over 260 others.

The attackers were two brothers, Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, originally from Chechnya. They used pressure cooker bombs placed in backpacks. After the attack, a large manhunt followed. Tamerlan was killed in a shootout with police. Dzhokhar was captured, tried, and sentenced to death.

The Tsarnaev brothers claimed they carried out the Boston Marathon bombings as revenge for U.S. actions in Muslim countries like Iraq and Afghanistan. They believed that killing Americans was justified because of U.S. military involvement in those regions.

Dzhokhar wrote in a note that the attack was meant to defend Islam and punish the U.S. for killing Muslims abroad. However, they were not part of any organized terrorist group. Investigations found they were self-radicalized, influenced by extremist content online.

Their actions were widely condemned by Muslims and non-Muslims alike.

Thoughts

I’m not going to focus on the Tsarnaev brothers themselves, but rather on the general impression the documentary left on me.

You often see people justifying extremism, like the brothers did, whether it’s acts of violence or even celebrating natural disasters or someone’s illness, as payback for a country’s past actions. It’s all framed as if everything is justified. What’s troubling is that this mindset isn’t limited to radical groups. You sometimes see it in people around you: the so-called moderates. Some may appear balanced on the surface, but quietly endorse extremist views in subtle ways.

This exists across communities, not just one. There’s often only a thin line between those who wish for destruction and those who act on it. That line might be common sense, fear, or simply a lack of means. We may never know. The point is, the anger and hate that fuel such extreme actions are far more mainstream than we believe. I see it daily, on social media, and at times, even within my own circles. It’s not always loud or violent, but it’s there, simmering under the surface. The only time you get a glimpse of it is when disaster strikes.

For some, all it takes is a spark to turn toward extremism. For example, Tamerlan was a skilled amateur boxer with hopes of representing the U.S. in international competitions. However, after being denied a visa to compete abroad, he grew increasingly resentful. He reportedly believed the rejection was due to his Muslim identity and refused to accept any other reasons, which deepened his sense of alienation and fed into his radicalization. In a way, an extreme victim mentality played a significant role in his downfall. Tamerlan saw himself as targeted and wronged, interpreting setbacks as part of a broader injustice against Muslims. This mindset not only fueled his resentment but also made him more vulnerable to radical ideologies.

What’s alarming is the sheer scale of such hate. It has become disturbingly normalized. If a disaster strikes the U.S., or even India, I’m 100% sure there would be people to celebrate or justify it. And that, perhaps, is the most disturbing part: the way the line between the humane and the inhumane has begun to blur.

However, the hypocrisy lies in the fact that many of these individuals do not express the same anger toward countries like Iran, known for oppressing women, or Pakistan and Bangladesh, where minorities often face persecution. This selective outrage reveals a duality that many need to recognize and address.