Nanda Mehta

I was raised across three continents—India, Africa, and eventually the United States—and my understanding of Christmas has never been rooted in a single faith or tradition. Instead, it has been shaped by movement, diversity, and early exposure to many belief systems. My first encounters with the Bible came in Africa, where divinity classes were part of the school curriculum.

November 17, 1985 — forty years ago — I stood with my hand over my heart, proudly holding the American flag as I was sworn in as a citizen of the country I had come to love, the one that promised “liberty and justice for all.” My brother and I had emigrated from India on Good Friday in 1979. We stepped off the plane in Philadelphia, went through immigration for our green cards, and walked out into the cold, crisp spring afternoon.

LIFESTYLE Moving on! Got tired of sitting on the sidelines. A short pause that turned into an eternity of silence — awkward, unkind, and unbearable. And the dilemma … To do or not… 5 mins Read 1 Shares SNAPSHOTS We are a group of sari lovers in Southern California. We met again for the first time in one and half years since Covid lockdown.