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Secret Daughter: A Novel
Secret Daughter: A Novel
Secret Daughter: A Novel
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Secret Daughter: A Novel

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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“Moving and thought-provoking and informative and imaginative and beautifully executed.  What a wonderful story!”
—Mary Jane Clark

 

“This book is a must for anyone touched by adoption, or India, or the delicate dynamic between adolescent girls and their mothers.”
—Sujata Massey, author of Shimura Trouble

 

Secret Daughter, a first novel by Shilpi Somaya Gowda, explores powerfully and poignantly the emotional terrain of motherhood, loss, identity, and love through the experiences of two families—one Indian, one American—and the child that binds them together. A masterful work set partially in the Mumbai slums so vividly portrayed in the hit film Slumdog Millionaire, Secret Daughter recalls the acclaimed novels of Kim Edwards and Thrity Umrigar, yet sparkles with the freshness of a truly exciting new literary voice.

 

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateMar 9, 2010
ISBN9780061981463
Author

Shilpi Somaya Gowda

Shilpi Somaya Gowda was born and raised in Toronto, Canada. Her previous novels, Secret Daughter, The Golden Son, and The Shape of Family became international bestsellers, selling over two million copies worldwide, in over 30 languages. She holds degrees from Stanford University and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where she was a Morehead-Cain scholar. She lives in California with her husband and children.

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Rating: 3.819427091531756 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Secret Daughter by Shilpi Gowda; (4 1/2*)A remarkable novel! The book is a wonderful story that illustrates the love a mother and father have for their children regardless of how they were conceived. It also sheds light on foreign customs and traditions and how they affect the family dynamic and relationships. I enjoyed how the story was told from five different perspectives. I was invested in these characters and also some of the back story ones as well.I would have loved to see a different ending but for this book that just wouldn't have worked.I highly recommend this novel.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I wasn't sure if I was going to like this book but I thought I would give it a try. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it. I think it took me two days to read it, it was such an easy read. She did a great job making you care for the characters and really gave you a look at Indian culture.

    It didn't end the way I thought it would but I think it was the right ending. I recommend this book, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This was a very readable book - the pages flew from the start. I liked the dual nature of the locations in the story - or really it was a trio of locations, because the two settings in India were so different. I really liked the story - I liked the protagonist Asha - I felt the story of Somer dragged a little - but basically was a really good read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The Secret Daughter by Shilpi Samaya Gowda is a heartfelt story about mothers and daughters. While a poverty stricken Indian mother is forced to give away her newborn daughter, another woman living in America discovers that she will never give birth to the child that she has always wanted. The American woman, Somer, does adopt the Indian baby and along with her Indian born husband raises her in America. The novel switches back and forth between these two women, Somer in America and Kavita in India. While Kavita does go on to have the baby boy that was desired by her husband, she never forgets the daughter that she had to give away. Somer is always uneasy about the Indian connection, and as the child grows up and demands more answers about her background, she fears that she will lose her daughter, Asha. Asha does go to India, seeking answers and what she finds there fills in many of the blanks in her life but also brings her to appreciate fully what the adoption has brought to her life.The author breaths life into this story of two mothers and a daughter and it is an emotional read. I would have liked to have seem a little more depth added to the characters, and perhaps a little more definition given to the men in the story, but I enjoyed learning about modern day India so overall this was a very satisfactory read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Secret Daughter was an interesting look into a 25+ year span in the lives of an Indian couple living in poverty who choose to put their daughter up for adoption and the couple who adopt her (an American woman and her Indian husband, both doctors, living in the U.S.)For the most part, I enjoyed the book. Some parts were a bit predictable and it was difficult to warm up to Asha's adoptive mother, Somer. She seemed so detached from her daughter during much of her childhood and I found that heartbreaking for Asha. However, I found the parts focusing on Jasu and Kavita, the Indian couple, to be very interesting and as the story progressed I began to learn more about Somer (and she learned a great deal more about herself). I can definitely see why she often felt like an outsider in her own family. It's just a shame it took her such a long time to do something about it.I think the author took on a daunting task in trying to convey the experiences of two families over a 25 year time span in just 340 pages. Because of this, some of the events wrapped up a little too neatly or were brushed over rather quickly. However, the story still kept my attention, especially as Asha became a young woman and had to make some major decisions about how she wanted to live her life. Kavita was by far my favorite character in this book and an entire story could be written just about her life. This was a very interesting look into Indian customs, traditions and culture as well and the glossary in the back proved useful.The ending certainly could've gone a few different ways and the one the author chose might not have been my first choice, but I respect the direction in which she decided to take it. Overall, a good book and I appreciated the opportunity to be an Early Reviewer for it. I recommend Secret Daughter if you're looking for a fairly quick and interesting read about overseas adoption, Indian culture and what makes a family. I think it would create some good book club discussion as well.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I enjoy reading books about family and Indian culture and this book fits the bill. Secret Daughter is an interesting and heartwarming story about a daughter born in India to a poor family. The baby girl is placed in an orphanage and adopted by a couple in America. The husband is Indian and the wife is American. The story goes back and forth between the story in India and the story of the daughter, Asha being raised in America.I found it to be enjoyable and would recommend it to others. I look forward to reading more by Gowda.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Gowda has written a very poignant book about motherhood and the various shapes it takes. When two doctors are unable to conceive naturally, Cali girl Somer and her Indian husband Kris decide to adopt a baby from an orphanage is his hometown Bombay (Mumbai). Told in alternating views, the stories of Kavita, the baby's biological Indian mother, Somer, her adoptive mother and Asha herself come to life. The various pictures of the slices of life and time of these people are at times heartwrenching and uplifting. The book touches on many social issues that face India even now, with the overcrowding, slums, birthrate, but still highlights a strong matriarchal figure in Kris' mom Sarla.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    It's interesting that I just happened to read Shilpi Somaya Gowda's Secret Daughter right after finishing Katherine Boo's Behind the Beautiful Forevers. Both books take place in India, but one is a nonfiction, in-depth look at life in a Mumbai slum, and the other is a fiction book that talks about a college student who writes a newspaper piece about mothers in the Mumbai slums. As I read Secret Daughter, I used much of what I learned about life in India in Behind the Beautiful Forevers to illuminate the fictional scenes.Secret Daughter is jointly about a poor Indian woman who travels to Mumbai to give her infant daughter to an orphanage rather to save her life, and the husband and wife from the United States who adopt that child about a year later. Kavita must give Usha (later Asha) up for adoption because otherwise her husband (convinced they are too poor to have expensive daughters and will only accept a boy baby) will kill the baby girl, just as he did the first daughter Kavita birthed. Meanwhile, in the United States, Somer and her Indian-born husband Kris discover that they will never be able to have children of their own. Kris enthusiastically looks into adopting a child from his home country, but Somer is reluctant and unsure that adoption is a convincing substitute for having her own child. They end up traveling to India (an experience that Somer hates) and adopting Kavita's baby girl, now called Asha.As Asha grows, she feels like she's trapped between two worlds. She doesn't fit in with her Indian classmates - she hasn't even been to India since she was a baby and her parents don't raise her with traditional Indian customs. But she also feels and looks different than her white classmates. From an early age she starts writing and storing letters to her real mother and grows to almost resent her adoptive parents. "They don't understand me because they're not really my parents; my real mother would understand me" becomes Asha's prevailing attitude as she ages and goes to college to study journalism.It is there that she wins a fellowship to go abroad for a year. Asha plans to travel to India to do a project about children growing up in poverty. Secretly, she also hopes to find her birth parents.I was not overly impressed with Secret Daughter - I wondered about how realistic the author's portrayal of adoption was. Not so much the adoption process, but the emotions involved. Now, I have no personal experience with adoption - I was not adopted and I have never adopted anyone else - but would Asha's resentment toward the parents who loved and provided for her be realistic? No teenager thinks that her parents understand her. And I feel that Asha's feelings of alienation stem more from her blended ethnicity family than her adoption. Wouldn't the biological child of an American woman and an Indian man have the same struggles?My main complaint of the particular copy of the book that I read is that pages 215-246 were completely missing! So that's a pretty big chunk of story that I missed. I could sort of fill in the blanks based on the before and after context, but of course it wasn't the same.One thing that I particularly liked about Secret Daughter was some of the character development, specifically that of Jasu, Kavita's husband. At the beginning of the novel, I couldn't help but hate Jasu. He kills one of his new born daughters and would have killed the second if Kavita hadn't run away to Mumbai to bring her to the orphanage. She refuses to turn the baby over to Jasu, and he tries to reason with her, saying, "Look, Kavita, you know we can't keep this baby. We need a boy to help us in the fields. As it is, we can hardly afford one child, how can we have two? My cousin's daughter is twenty-three and still not married, because he can't come up with the dowry. We are not a rich family, Kavita. You know we can't do this... She will become a burden to us, a drain on our family" (pg. 15). Such an attitude is alien to my worldview and not something I can easily understand. But, as the novel progresses, Jasu changes. By the end, he could hardly be recognized as the same person. Gowda embraces reality in her portrayal of Jasu - people do change over the course of their lives.Overall, Secret Daughter wasn't polished enough for me - it didn't have the literary merit that is present in the books I consider excellent. Secret Daughter is a good bestseller-type of book, and bestsellers always seem to disappoint me a bit. I guess my tastes are just too esoteric.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Secret Daughter is the story of an American woman (Somer), her Indian husband (Krishnan..or Kris), their adopted Indian daughter (Asha) and her birth parents (Kavita and Janu).The story is told from multiple perspectives which highlights their individual differences as well as cultural differences. Through the story the author explores various aspects of intercultural marriage, international adoption, and the cultural and emotional strains therein. The story is well told, the writing is clear. Some parts of the storyline are predictable, especially if you've read the writer of other Indian/North American writers. At the end of the story all of the ends are tied up neatly, which I can't decide if that's to the credit of the author or not.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I was so excited to read this book as many of my friends had read it and recommended it to me. I was overall a little bit disappointed. It explores the relationships between mothers and daughters and I enjoyed the first part much more than the second half. I found I didn't really identify much with any of the characters. It was an "ok" read, but not one I would highly recommend.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I enjoyed reading Secret Daughter by Shilpi Somaya Gowda, and I thought it was a wonderful debut.The story centers around Asha, a baby adopted from an orphanage in India by her American mother and Indian American father, both doctors. Throughout the story the reader experiences Asha's growth from child to young woman.The author is gifted in the way she reveals each character's story. Kavita, the birth mother, risked everything to ensure that her daughter would survive, and despite her selflessness was haunted for the rest of her life for giving up her daughter. Somer, the adoptive mother, and overly critical of herself, centered her world around Asha, and yet, in many ways made herself an outsider in her own family. Krishnan, the adoptive father, struggled as an Indian American, trying to balance his passion for America and his love for his native homeland. Sarla, Asha's paternal grandmother, played an important role of bridging the two worlds. I learned a great deal from many of the minor characters as well, and each added to the story. I enjoyed the journey I shared with these characters, and their ultimate self-discovery.The reader learns what these characters are feeling and thinking, and discovers their past struggles and how their past decisions influenced their future. I felt many varied emotions for these characters at different points in the book. In the end, I learned that life is complicated; there are joys and hardships for everyone. All people shine at times and are less than proud of themselves at others. Those that endure have amazing stories to share and lessons to teach.I do not want to spoil the story by revealing too much, but I have to say that the weakest part of the book for me was Asha's final decision on whether to meet with her birth parents or not. Although in many ways a realistic choice, I wish the author would have gone in a different direction. The ending felt slightly flat to me.The writing was excellent, the story was fast moving, the alternating perspectives was engaging and the glimpses of India, both spectacular and tragic, were inspiring. I respect the author and her creative abilities; it was her story to tell, and there is no doubt that I would read her future work.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This was a beautiful story that moved me and educated me. Gowda did a wonderful job at presenting the Indian culture for both it's beauty and it's poverty. I think a quote from the book jacket describes the book better than I could - "Secret Daughter poignantly explores the emotional terrain of motherhood, loss, identity and love , as witnessed through the lives of two families-one Indian, one American-and the child that indelibly connects them." I thought it was a very good story and I loved the ending.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I can see why this book is on many book club lists. Plenty to discuss adoption, motherhood, sex-based abortions.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    It's easy to see why this novel is a Canadian bestseller. Yes, it is chick lit, but great chick lit. Both my book clubs have it on the reading list, but BPYC reviewed it first.This is the author's first novel. The story is well crafted; the female characters are strong and fascinating. Kavita, whose first daughter is murdered at birth, resolves to save the life of her second 'secret' daughter, by carrying her to an orphanage and giving her up for adoption. The girl ends up in North America, well-schooled and well-loved, but always wondering about her biological mother.The story takes place on two continents and weaves back and forth between the lives of the different families, generations and cultures.The nature of motherhood is certainly a major theme, but not to the extent that the non-mothers in the group felt the book didn't speak to them on other levels.Dualism, fate, destiny, luck, privilege, the notion of choice.And some fun new words, like:- futta fut (quickly)- khush (happy)- yaar (friend)The group's only criticism was that the male characters were a bit one dimensional, used more as plot devices or catalysts and not as fully developed as the women in the story. But then, this really was a story about the lives of women:
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    In a small village in India, Kavita is about to give birth. She is praying this second child with her husband, Jasu is a boy. If it is a girl, like her first born, she will not be able to bare the consequences. Sadly, this second child of theirs is a girl. Kavita will not allow what happened to their first daughter, happen to this one, so she makes the choice to give her away. This decision will haunt Kavita for the rest of her days.We are then taken to California and introduced to Somer and Krishnan. Somer and Krishnan are doctors and have tried everything to have a child, but finally decide to adopt. They travel to Krishnan's home, Mumbai to visit an orphanage and bring home their baby. Somer, an American, hopes her love will be enough to overcome all the obstacles in their path.The story continues going back and forth between the two couples and their lives starting in the 1980's and continuing all the way through 2009. The interconnecting lives of Kavita and Somer and their struggles with motherhood, with their marriages, and with their future will give you an emotional ride.The daughter that connects these two women across the world grows up as the reader travels through the book. As she becomes an adult, she struggles with the two worlds that she is part of, those of her father's family in India and her mother's family in America. By searching for where she fits in, she finds that maybe where she belonged was right in front of her all along.The author had no trouble placing me in the heart of the tiny village of India or in the large city of Mumbai. Her descriptions of the people living in the slums of Mumbai and their daily struggles were heartbreaking to read, but I'm sure all too real. The traditions of Krishnan's family and Kavita's family opened my eyes to a whole new way of living. I'm just thankful our American culture realizes it is the man that determines the gender of a baby and doesn't value boys over girls. I wanted to scream at Jasu and his ignorance. This was our book club choice last month and was loved by all of us. As moms we found this book to be quite emotional as we read both Kavita's and Somer's struggles with giving up their child and with not being able to have childen. We sympathized as they raised their children and confronted frustrating moments. We empathized as their marriages weren't as they originally dreamed they would be. This was a book full of feelings, relationships, traditions, and most of all, love. It is a story you won't forget.This is Shilpi Somaya Gowda's first novel and I can't wait to read her next one. The novel is also planned to hit movie screens in the future.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Recommended by a friend/patron... just was not my cup of tea tho.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Review: This is one of those books that you're not sure you're even going to like, but it's a refreshing surprise when you realize what a good book it is. There is certainly a lot of conflict throughout the book. Kavita is angry at her husband, Jasu, because of the incidents when she gave birth to two daughters. She's obviously mad at the whole notion of girls being expendable; if the women give birth to a girl before having a boy first, the girls are not normally permitted to live. You know, as I was reading this I was thinking "Wow, what a barbaric act. How do the women deal with having their baby girls ripped away from them?". I was also assuming that maybe this is not something that is in practice anymore in India. I looked up "gender selection in India" on Google and gender is still very much a huge issue. The rich are more financially able to get ultrasounds, and therefore if the baby happens to be a girl, they abort. It went on to list some of the reasons Indian families do not want girls and it says that underlying all of the various reasons is that they see girls as more expensive, due to the fact that they need protection and require large dowries to get a suitable mate. If you'd like to read the full article, click *HERE* it was very interesting and explained a lot about the practice of gender selection. Jasu starts out very resentful towards Kavita because she has yet to give him a son. It must be a lot of pressure, having your family tell you to marry someone else because your wife is defective as she can't manage to give birth to a boy. Somer and her husband Krishnan (Kris) seem to get along very well in the beginning, but not being able to carry a pregnancy to term definitely takes it's toll on their relationship. Somer wants to be a mother so bad, but she desperately wants to have her own child. She is very resistant to adopt, probably feeling that if she does so it's like admitting defeat, that she'll never have her own biological baby. This makes her resentful of Kris, who is all for adopting a baby from an orphanage in India which is where he was born, grew up; it's where his own family still lives. For his part, Kris doesn't understand Somer's desire to have a biological child; he sees it as a formality. That you can love an adopted child just as much as one that has your genes. I can definitely see and understand where both sides are coming from.Another interesting aspect of the book was that Somer and Kavita were both grieving, but they do so in such different ways. Not so different though, and the fact that ties them together, is that they both are grieving alone. Neither one has someone they can really share that grief with, and so they suffer alone.Asha makes a few appearances in the first half of the book, but she becomes the focal character in the second half. She is a very strong young woman, determined and compassionate. And living in the United States, she has a very strong urge to learn more about her culture. I really enjoyed reading about her journey, all of the sad and happy moments she experiences.After reading about the slums in Mumbai, I just had to see some pictures to get a feel for what it actually looked like. The Dhavari is a very real place, the largest slum in Asia. It makes me feel for these people that have no other option than to live here. It also makes me very thankful for everything I have in my life; I am very lucky. If you would like to know more about the slum, simply Google "Dhavari slum" and you will find numerous articles and pictures to give you an idea of what the slum is like. Click *HERE* for a good article to see both article and pictures. Overall I really enjoyed this book. The only two things that really didn't work for me was the point of view it was told in. For example, instead of saying "The girl went to the store" it was more like "The girl goes to the store". It felt sort of like I was reading a transcript of something, it just didn't flow right for me. I did get used to it after awhile though, but the past tense probably would have worked better for me. Also, the book tended to jump around a lot through the years. One day Asha is 6 years old, the next time you meet up with her she is much older and it has you wondering what you missed. These two points are easily overlooked though, as this book really touched me and drew me into it's world. The author, Shilpi Somaya Gowda, does a great job of painting a picture of life in India, as well as themes of adoption, grief, and forgiveness. There are a lot of Indian words throughout the book, which would be overwhelming if there were not a glossary of terms in the back of the book. It was great to have that to reference when I came upon an unfamiliar term. Definitely check this book out, you won't regret it!My rating: 4/5 stars
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Predictable, chick lit. Woman gives daughter away to orphanage in India. Rich american doctors adopt girl. Indian woman has a boy finally that turns out to be bad, but the secret daughter is the golden child.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I loved the premise of this book - the issue of motherhood, what makes a mother, what a mother will do for her child, what makes a family. The issue is portrayed in the context of Indian culture which adds an additional element of interest. Unfortunately, the book falls short because it oversimplifies many things - what drew Krishnan and Somar together when they are so different and she was so resistent to his culture? How was Kavita able to get away long enough to the city to accomplish what she did? How was Krishnan's family so accepting of his leaving the country, his marriage, and his adopted daughter? How did Asha assimilate so quickly into a culture and a family she did not know?I did enjoy the book but found the treatment a little shallow.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    An adopted Indian girl goes back to India and decides to look find out something about her roots. In addition, the story does include the story of her family of natural origin. Story was good, but it seemed like the writing needed a little tweaking. The description of the culture of India as well as the treatment of females in India among the poor was very interesting. I would have had a different ending.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I really enjoyed the story and how the author blended the different P.O.V's to create a more multifaceted effect on the storyline.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    A novel following, essentially, three women. Kavita, an Indian mother who makes the decision to take her newborn daughter to an orphanage rather than allow her husband to take her and kill her as he did their first daughter. Asha, the daughter who is adopted by an American-Indian bi-racial couple. She grows up feeling completely American and yet different and displaced - even in her own home. And Somer, the American adoptive mother. While it was an engaging story in and of itself, what appealed most to me about this book was the growth that we see in each woman as the novel spans 20 years. They weren't delivered an easy out by the author. I appreciated that.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Interesting story, but the best thing about the book was getting insight into the culture of India. The juxtaposition of the middle-class and impoverished families was done really well. Horrifying that so many girl babies are killed; this made it real.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The connection between mothers and daughters can be tenuous; especially if one or both feel isolated because of cultural differences. Usha (Dawn) is not really a secret, but she is a girl and a liability to her poverty-stricken family in India. Kavita gives her a chance at life when she flees her husband to take her newborn to an orphanage in Bombay. A year later, the baby becomes Asha (Hope) and is adopted by an American family.The typical challenges with adopting a foreign child are exacerbated by the fact that the father and child in this case are both Indian, leaving new mother Somer feeling like she is the one who has been adopted. Meanwhile, back in India, Kavita and her family are forced off the land and move to a different kind of life in Mumbai.There is lot of necessary bouncing back and forth between families and countries in this book. The author has undertaken a complex story and simplified it as much as possible. When it focuses on Asha as a young woman being pulled between two cultures until her longing to understand her background takes hold of both her and the reader, it becomes a more engaging read. Unfortunately, this doesn't occur until the middle of the book. However, while waiting for this affinity to take place, the reader will learn about India so the backstory has some rewards. Making use of the glossary of foreign words at the back of the book helps with this cultural formation.As Asha discovers that Mumbai is a city of contradictions, she begins to understand and appreciate her complicated relationship with the people in her life and what it means to be part of a family. Despite the heavy themes of cultural differences and adoption, I would consider this as light reading designed with bestseller lists in mind. It lacks the literary characteristics that propel it from the good to the great realm of books.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I enjoyed this novel that celebrates the love, strength, and self-sacrifice of Indian mothers. Taking a multi-generational approach to her story telling, Shilpi Somaya Gowda teaches readers about both rural and large city Indian life, the importance of the stability of marriage, and the overriding influence of a supportive immediate and extended family in the development of individuals. A valuable lesson is that families can be accepting of connections with people outside of their blood lines and racial identities if there is a loving, strong, and self-sacrificing matriarch anchoring the social group. The dramatic focus of the novel is on Usha, a daughter born to a poor woman in rural India. Because of the very limited resources of the family, female children are a liability but sons are an asset. Sons can work in the fields and carry on the blood line. Kavita makes an important decision at the birth of her daughter that will haunt her for a lifetime. She and her husband Jasu can have ultimate peace only through knowledge of the life of Usha. The structure of the novel causes the reader to look forward to the next episodes of several family stories in alternating chapters. The development of the characters is realistic and their emotions strongly affect readers. The book is similar in structure, character development, and emotional impact to another very good novel set in Uruguay, The Invisible Mountain by Carolina De Robertis. I recommend Secret Daughter to readers who like stories that take place in international settings and characters who create strong emotions. You will experience sadness and joy and will shed more than a few tears as I did.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I really enjoyed the book and in particular enjoyed reading about India and life there. I appreciated the multiple points of view and ultimately found this a very satisfying novel.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Secret Daughter is the debut novel of author Shilpi Somaya Gowda and is a powerful story about the ties, biological and otherwise, which bind a family together. Although the novel covers themes such as poverty and the subjugation of women which feature often in novels set in India, these topics are treated with a depth and skill which allow this book to stand out among its peers.The novel alternately tells the story of Kavita, a woman from a village in India and Somer, a woman in San Francisco who is married to an Indian ex-pat, Krishnan. They are bound together by Asha - Kavita's biological daughter who she gives up at birth because she is not a son and Somer's adopted daughter who Krishnan and Somer adopted from a orphanage in Mumbai. Of course, things are not as simple as that summary - Kavita mourns the loss of her daughter every day and Somer struggles with feeling alienated from her husband and daughter who share a heritage if not blood. As the novel progresses, we witness the Kavita and her family's attempts at a better life with a move to Mumbai and Asha's development into a young woman who increasingly wants to know more about her Indian heritage and her birth parents.Amidst Indian customs, exploration of the poverty of the Mumbai slums and the effect of the dowry system on the treatment of infant girls, Gowda presents a story about motherhood and the extents to which mothers will go to protect and provide for their children. There are the obvious mother figures in Kavita and Somer but there are many others weaved throughout the novel including each of the women with their own mothers and women in the Mumbai slums. These stories of motherhood is what I found so moving about the book - the relationship of mother and child with all its joys and hurts is the great equalizer and lends humanity to each and every character.I know this novel and the characters it introduced me to will stay with me for some time - I didn't want the book to end! The writing was excellent so I hope that Gowda will soon write another novel. In the meantime, take time to treasure this one and consider it as a Mother Day's gift for all those special mothers in your life.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Secret Daughter is wonderfully told, a page turner for me. Admittedly, I found Somer irritatingly clingy in the beginning of the novel; however, her redemption was authentic and enjoyable to observe. Definitely a rec!
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I read this book for an in-person book discussion. The story I discovered was full of emotions. The characters reflected real people. At first I didn't think I would enjoy this story because it started out very sad and negative. It ended on a positive, sad note. The story did pull me along for the adventure. This book is well worth the time it took to read it, I just do not want to read it again. The story presented both the good and the bad in India. Also the good and bad in a mixed race, American marriage. I will be curious as to what everyone else thought about the story.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I really enjoyed reading The Secret Daughter but was initially frustrated for the first half of the book where the chapters jumped with years in between. It left me wanting more and wishing the book would slow down. Once Asha arrives in Mumbai on a fellowship to do a story on children living in poverty the novel slows down and becomes rich with detail, especially family connections and Indian culture. Asha also goes to Mumbai for her own personal reasons. She is yearning to understand her Indian heritage since she left India at the age of one. She also has a secret reason for going, one that she is unwilling to share with her parents; she wants to find her biological parents. The other half of the novel is presented in alternating chapters between her biological parents and her adoptive parents lives. The harsh realities of poverty and unsanitary living conditions are interwoven with the bonds of love and family, providing an excellent backdrop to the story of how Asha came to be loved and adopted by her American mother and Indian father. The trials her biological parents faced are countered by the vacations, elite schools, and successes of the daughter secretly given up by her mother to an orphanage in Mumbai. The first page of the book provides some hint as to the ending and unlike so many other books about India that end sadly (as is often real life) this one ends nicely. Overall, I wish the author had taken more time to more fully develop the time frame consisting of the first nineteen years of Asha's life, but the second half makes the book worthwhile. The author also provides a glossary at the back of the book which is very helpful and something I wish more authors using foreign words would do.

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Secret Daughter - Shilpi Somaya Gowda

PROLOGUE

HE CLUTCHES THE WORN SLIP OF PAPER IN HIS HAND, TRYING TO compare the letters written there to the red sign hanging on the door in front of him. Looking back and forth from the paper to the door several times, he is careful not to make a mistake. Once he feels certain, he presses the bell, and a shrill ring echoes inside. While he waits, he runs his palm over the brass plaque next to the door, feeling the ridges of the raised letters with his fingers. When the door opens suddenly, he pulls back his hand and gives another slip of paper to the young woman in the doorway. She reads the note, looks up at him, and steps back to let him enter.

With a slight tilt of her head, she indicates he should follow her down the hallway. He makes sure his shirt is tucked in underneath his slight paunch of a belly, and runs his fingers through his graying hair. The young woman walks into an office, hands the slip of paper to someone inside, and then points him to a chair. He enters, sits down, and clasps his fingers.

The man behind the desk peers at him through thin spectacles. I understand you’re looking for someone.

PART I

1

DAWN OF MOURNING

Dahanu, India—1984

KAVITA

SHE CAME TO THE ABANDONED HUT AT DUSK, WITHOUT A WORD to anyone, when she felt the first unmistakable pulls deep within her. It is vacant, except for the mat on which she now lies, knees drawn up to her chest. As the next wave of pain shudders through her body, Kavita digs her nails into clenched palms and bites down on the tree branch between her teeth. Her breathing is heavy but even as she waits for the tightness to ease in her swollen belly. She steadies her gaze on the pale yellow shadow on the mud floor, cast by a flickering oil lamp, her sole company in the dark hours of night. She has been trying to muffle her cries until it is unbearable to do so anymore. Soon, she knows, with the urge to push, her screams will beckon the village midwife. She prays the baby is born before dawn, for her husband rarely awakens before sunrise. It is the first of only two prayers Kavita dares to have for this child, wary of asking too much from the gods.

The deep rumble of thunder in the distance echoes the threat of rain that has been hovering all day. Moisture hangs in the air, settling in small droplets of perspiration on her forehead. When the heavens finally open and the downpour comes, it will be a relief. The monsoons have always held a particular smell for her: raw and earthy, as if the soil, crops, and rain have all mingled into the air. It is the scent of new life.

The next contraction comes abruptly and takes her breath away. Sweat has soaked dark patches through her thin cotton sari blouse, which strains at the row of tiny hook fasteners between her breasts. She grew larger this time, compared to the last. In private, her husband chided her for not covering up more, but with the other men, she heard him boast about her breasts, comparing them to ripe melons. She saw it as a blessing that her body looked different this time, as it led her husband and the others to assume this baby will be a boy.

A sudden fear grips her, the same suffocating fear she has felt throughout this pregnancy. What will happen if they are all wrong? Her second prayer, and the more desperate of the two, is that she not give birth to another girl. She cannot endure that again.

SHE WAS NOT PREPARED FOR WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME. HER husband burst into the room just minutes after the midwife had cut the umbilical cord. Kavita detected on him the sickly sweet odor of fermented chickoo-fruit liquor. When Jasu glimpsed the writhing body of the baby girl in Kavita’s arms, a shadow crossed his face. He turned away.

Kavita felt her budding joy give way to confusion. She tried to speak, to articulate something from the thoughts swirling in her head. So much hair…a good omen. But it was Jasu’s voice she heard, terrible things she had never heard before from his lips, a string of obscenities that shocked her. When he spun around to face her, she saw his reddened eyes. He moved toward her with slow, deliberate steps, shaking his head. She felt an unfamiliar fear rising in her, tangling with shock and confusion.

The pain of labor had left her body weak. Her mind struggled to make sense. She did not see him pounce toward her until it was too late. But she was not quick enough to stop him from grabbing the baby out of her arms. The midwife held her back as she lunged forward, arms outstretched and screaming, even louder than when she had felt the baby’s head tearing her flesh to make its way. He stormed out of the hut amid the cries of their daughter taking her first few breaths in this world. Kavita knew, in that terrible moment, they would also be her last.

The midwife pushed her gently back down. Let him go, my child. Let him go now. It is done. You must rest now. You have been through an ordeal.

Kavita spent the next two days curled up on the woven straw mat on the floor of the hut. She did not dare ask what had happened to her baby. Whether she was drowned, suffocated, or simply left to starve, Kavita hoped only that death came quickly, mercifully. In the end, her tiny body would have been buried, her spirit not even granted the release of cremation. Like so many baby girls, her first-born would be returned to the earth long before her time.

During those two days, Kavita had no visitors except the midwife, who came twice a day to bring her food and fresh cloths to soak up the blood that flowed from her body. She wept until her eyes were raw, until she thought she did not have another tear to shed. But that turned out to be just the dawn of her mourning, which was punctuated by another sharp reminder when her breasts produced milk a few days later, and her hair fell out the next month. And after that night, every time she saw a young child, her heart stopped in her chest and she was reminded yet again.

When she emerged from her grief, no one acknowledged her loss. She received no words of support or comforting touches from the other villagers. In the home they shared with Jasu’s family, she was given only scornful glances and uninvited counsel on how to conceive a boy next time. Kavita had long been accustomed to having little dominion over her own life. She was married off to Jasu at eighteen and settled into the daily toil of fetching water, washing clothes, and cooking meals. All day she did what her husband asked of her, and when they lay together at night, she succumbed to his demands as well.

But after the baby, she changed, if only in small ways. She put an extra red chili in her husband’s food when she was angry with him and watched with quiet satisfaction as he wiped his forehead and nose all through dinner. When he came to her at night, sometimes she refused him, saying it was her womanly time of month. With each simple rebellion, she felt her confidence grow. So when she learned she was pregnant again, she resolved this time things would be different.

2

CLEAN

San Francisco, California—1984

SOMER

THE MEDICAL JOURNAL DROPS FROM SOMER’S HAND AND SHE clutches her abdomen. She rises from the couch and stumbles toward the bathroom, supporting herself down the long corridor of their Victorian flat. Despite the sharp pains forcing her to double over, she pulls aside her robe before sitting on the toilet. She sees the bright red blood dripping down the pale skin of her thigh. No. Oh god, please no. Her plea is soft but urgent. No one is there to hear. She squeezes her legs together and holds her breath. Sit perfectly still, maybe the bleeding will stop.

It does not. She puts her face in her hands, and the tears come. She watches the red pool spread in the toilet bowl. Her shoulders begin to shake, and her sobs grow louder and longer until her whole body is overtaken by them. She manages to call Krishnan after the cramps have subsided somewhat. When he arrives home, she is curled into a ball on their unmade four-poster bed. Between her legs, she has stuffed a hand towel, once plush and the color of French vanilla, a gift for their wedding five years ago. They selected that particular hue together—not hospital white, not dull beige—an elegant shade of cream, now soaked with blood.

Kris sits on the edge of the bed and puts a hand on her shoulder. Are you sure? he asks softly.

She nods. Just like last time. Cramps, bleeding… She starts crying again. More blood this time. I guess because I’m further along…

Kris hands her a tissue. Okay, honey. I’ll call Dr. Hayworth and see if he can meet us at the hospital. Do you need anything? He arranges a blanket on top of her, tucking it around her shoulders. She shakes her head and rolls onto her other side, away from Krishnan, who is behaving more like a doctor than the husband she desperately needs. She closes her eyes and touches her lower belly, as she does countless times a day, but this gesture, which usually brings her comfort, now feels like a punishment.

THE FIRST THING SOMER SEES WHEN SHE OPENS HER EYES IS THE IV stand next to her bed. She shuts them again quickly, hoping to recapture the dream about pushing a baby in a playground swing. Was it a girl or a boy?

The procedure went well, Somer. Everything is clean now, and I didn’t see anything that would lead me to think you can’t try again in a few months. Dr. Hayworth, in his crisp white coat, looks down at her from the foot of the bed. Try to get some rest and I’ll be back to see you before discharge. He pats her leg lightly through the sheet before turning to leave.

Thanks, Doctor, comes a voice from the other side of the room, and Somer becomes aware for the first time of Krishnan’s presence. He walks to the bed and leans over her, laying a hand on her forehead. How do you feel?

Clean, she says.

He furrows his brow and tilts his head sideways. Clean?

"He said clean. Dr. Hayworth said I was clean now. What was I before? When I was pregnant?" Her eyes focus on the fluorescent light humming above her bed. A girl or a boy? What color eyes?

Oh, honey. He just means…You know what he means.

"Yes, I know what he means. He means it’s all gone now: the baby, the placenta, everything. My uterus is nice and empty again. Clean."

A nurse enters the room, smiling. Time for your pain meds.

Somer shakes her head. I don’t want it.

Honey, you should take it, Krishnan says. It’ll help you feel better.

I don’t want to feel better. She turns away from the nurse. They don’t understand it’s not just the baby she lost. It’s everything. The names she runs through as she lies in bed at night. The paint samples for the nursery she’s collected in her desk drawer. The dreams of cradling her child in her arms, helping with homework, cheering on the sidelines of the soccer field. All of it, gone, disappeared into the thick fog outside. They don’t understand that. Not the nurse, not Dr. Hayworth, not even Krishnan. They just see her as a patient to be doctored, a piece of human equipment to be repaired. Just another body to be cleaned up.

SOMER AWAKENS AND ADJUSTS THE CONTROL ON THE HOSPITAL bed to sit up. She becomes vaguely conscious of canned laughter emanating from a television set in the corner, some game show Krishnan left on before going to the cafeteria. She never thought she could feel this uncomfortable in a hospital, the place she spent five straight years of her life. She used to get a rush of excitement walking down the sterile corridors and hearing the buzz of the speaker overhead. The rituals of slipping on her white coat or picking up a patient’s chart gave her a shot of confidence. It was something she and Krishnan used to share, that sense of purpose and mastery in being a doctor. Now, she knows, this is another thing that will pull them farther apart. She resents being the patient, hates that she can’t fix this.

She wasn’t supposed to be here yet, in this hospital she chose deliberately for its focus on obstetrics. Eight thousand deliveries a year. Twenty babies born here today. Today, while her dead baby was being scraped out of her. On the floor just below hers, every woman in the ward has a baby sleeping in her room. It seems so easy for everyone else: the mothers she sees in her practice every day, her friends, even the idiot on that game show, waving to her kids in the audience.

Maybe this is nature’s way of telling her something. Maybe I’m just not meant to be a mother.

3

NEVER AGAIN

Dahanu, India—1984

KAVITA

ANOTHER PAIN COMES NOW, THIS TIME FROM EVEN DEEPER within her, its dull edges sharpened to jagged blades. Kavita can no longer catch her breath between the waves of pain coming one upon the other. Her thighs tremble, her back throbs, and now she cannot help but cry out in anguish. When this sound reaches her own ears, it no longer resembles a human voice. This body is no longer her body, it is driven by primal impulses that belong to the earth, the trees, the air. Outside, a sudden flash of lightning illuminates the dark sky, and an eruption of thunder shakes the ground beneath her. The branch in her mouth cracks from the pressure of her clenched jaw, and she tastes the bitter flavor of raw green wood inside. The last thing she feels is a wet warmth envelop her body.

When she opens her eyes again, Kavita feels the midwife arranging her legs and positioning herself between them. "Beti, you should have called earlier. I would have come. How long have you been here by yourself? As it is, the baby’s head is showing already. It won’t be too long now. The second time is much…" Her voice trails off.

"Daiji, listen to me. No matter what happens, you must not let my husband take this baby. Promise me…promise me!" Kavita shrieks.

"Hahnji, yes, whatever you say, the midwife says. But now, child, it is time to push."

She is right. Kavita bears down only a few times before she hears a reassuring cry. The midwife works quickly to clean and wrap the baby. Kavita struggles to sit up, pushes the damp strands of hair out of her face, and takes the child in her arms. She strokes her baby’s matted black hair and marvels at the tiny fingers grasping at the air. She pulls the small body close to hers, drinks in the scent, and then places its mouth to her breast. Once the infant begins to suck in a sleepy rhythm, Kavita slowly unwraps the cloth around its tiny body.

No one heard my prayers. Kavita closes her eyes and her body shudders with silent tears. She leans forward, seizes the midwife’s hand, and whispers, "Daiji, don’t tell anyone. Go quickly, fetch Rupa, and bring her here. No one, you hear?"

"Hahnji. Yes, my child. Blessings to you and your baby. You rest now, please. I will bring some food." The midwife steps outside into the night. She pauses for a moment, arching her back slightly, then picks up her steel urn of supplies and walks away.

AS THE EARLY LIGHT OF DAWN SEEPS INTO THE HUT, KAVITA awakens and feels the throbbing ache in her pelvis. She shifts her body, and her gaze falls upon the newborn sleeping peacefully beside her. Her stomach groans. She is suddenly ravenous. She reaches for the bowl of rice next to her and eats. Satisfied but still exhausted, she lies back down and listens to the sounds of the village stirring to life outside.

It is not long before the door creaks open and bright sunlight spills in. Jasu enters, his eyes gleaming. Where is he? He beckons playfully with his hands. Where is my little prince? Come, come…let me see him! He walks toward her, arms outstretched.

Kavita stiffens. She clutches the baby to her chest and awkwardly tries to sit up. She is here. Your little princess is right here. She sees blackness cloud his eyes. Her arms tremble as she wraps them tightly around the baby, shielding her small body.

"Arre! Another girl? What is the matter with you? Let me see!" he shouts.

No. I will not. You are not taking her. She hears the shrillness of her voice, feels the tension flood into her limbs. "This is my baby, our baby, and I will not let you take her." She sees bewilderment in his eyes as they search her face for some understanding. She has never spoken to anyone, let alone her husband, with such defiance.

He takes a few steps toward her, then his face softens and he falls to his knees next to her. Look, Kavita, you know we can’t keep this baby. We need a boy to help us in the fields. As it is, we can hardly afford one child, how can we have two? My cousin’s daughter is twenty-three and still not married, because he can’t come up with the dowry. We are not a rich family, Kavita. You know we can’t do this.

Her eyes fill again with tears, and she shakes her head until they spill out. Her breath becomes ragged. She squeezes her eyes closed for several breaths. When she opens them again, she looks squarely at her husband. I won’t let you take her this time. I won’t. She straightens her back despite the terrible pain. "If you try, if you even try, you will have to kill me first." She draws her knees up in front of her. From the corner of her eye, she sees the door and envisions the five quick steps it will take to reach it. She wills herself not to move, not to shift her fierce and determined gaze away from Jasu.

Kavita, come, you’re not thinking straight. We can’t do this. He throws his hands in the air. She will become a burden to us, a drain on our family. Is that what you want? He stands, towering over her again.

Her mouth is dry. She stumbles over the words she has not quite allowed to form except in the distant corners of her mind. Give me one night. Just one night with my child. You can come fetch her tomorrow.

Jasu remains silent, looking down at his feet.

"Please. The hammering sound in her skull grows louder. She wants to scream to be heard over it. This is our baby. We created her together. I carried her inside me. Let me have one night before you take her." Suddenly, the baby awakens and cries out. Jasu looks up, startled out of his trance. Kavita puts the infant to her breast, restoring the silence between them.

Jasu, she says, signaling her seriousness by her uncharacteristic use of his first name. Hear me now. If you do not allow me even this, I swear to you, I will fix it so I can never have another baby. I will destroy my own body so I will never birth another child for you. Never. Do you understand? Then where will you be? Who will marry you now, at your age? Who else will give you your precious son? She stares at him until he is forced to look away.

4

WITHOUT MUCH EFFORT

San Francisco, California—1984

SOMER

HELLO, I’M DR. WHITMAN. SOMER ENTERS THE SMALL EXAMINATION room to see a woman struggling to control a flailing infant. What seems to be the problem today?

He’s been like this since yesterday—crying, irritable. I can’t do anything to console him, I think he has a fever. The woman has her hair in a loose ponytail and wears a stained sweatshirt over jeans.

Well, let’s take a look. Somer glances at the chart. Michael? Do you want to see my nifty flashlight? Somer shines the ear probe light on and off until it captures the boy’s interest and he grabs for it. She smiles and opens her mouth wide. When the boy mimics her, she inserts a tongue depressor. Has he been eating and drinking normally?

Yes. Well, I think so. I’m not quite sure what normal is, since we’ve just had him a few weeks. We adopted him at six months. The mother’s sudden and proud smile almost camouflages the shadows under her eyes.

Mmm hmm. How about this, buddy? Do you want to play with this cool stick? Somer hands the tongue depressor to the boy, swiftly picks up the abandoned ear probe, and looks into his ears. And how’s it going so far?

He bonded quickly, and now he always wants to be carried around. We’re pretty stuck on each other, aren’t we, buddy? Even though you were up three times last night, the mother says, poking a finger into his pudgy belly. It’s true what they say.

What’s that? Somer feels the boy’s lymph glands for swelling.

You don’t know until it happens to you. It’s the strongest love you can imagine.

Somer feels a familiar pang in her chest. She looks up from the stethoscope on the boy’s back and smiles at his mother. He’s lucky to have you. She pulls a prescription pad from her pocket. Well, he has a pretty bad infection in his right ear, but the other one looks clear right now, and his chest and lungs are fine. These antibiotics should clear it right up, and he should be a lot more comfortable tonight. She touches the mother’s arm as she hands her the prescription.

This is why Somer loves her work. She can walk into a room with a crying child and an anxious mother and know that when she leaves, they will both feel better. Her Peds rotation was the first time she calmed down a hysterical child, a diabetic girl with collapsed veins who needed blood work. Somer held the girl’s hand and asked her to describe the butterflies she saw when she closed her eyes. She successfully drew blood on the very first poke and had the bandage on before the girl was finished with the wings. Her classmates, who did everything possible to avoid the screamers, were impressed. Somer was hooked.

Thank you, Doctor, the mother says, with visible relief. I was so worried. It’s hard not knowing what’s wrong with him. I feel like he’s a little bundle of mystery, and I’m just getting to know him a little every day.

Don’t worry, Somer says, her hand on the doorknob. All parents feel that way, no matter how their children come to them. Bye, Michael.

Somer returns to her office and closes the door, though she’s already running twenty minutes late. She lays down her instruments, then her head, on the desk. Turning to the side, she sees the plastic model of a human heart Krishnan gave her when they graduated from medical school.

I’m giving you my heart, he said, in a way that didn’t sound as corny as it would have from someone else. Take good care of it.

IT WAS ALMOST A DECADE AGO, UNDER THE DULL YELLOW LIGHTS of Lane Library at Stanford’s School of Medicine, that they first noticed each other. They were there night after night, and not just on the weeknights when the rest of the class studied, but on Friday nights, instead of going out for dinner, and on weekends, when the others went hiking. There were only a dozen of them, the Lane regulars: the most studious ones, the hardest workers. Looking back, Somer realizes, they were the ones who had something to prove. Everyone thought of Somer as the odd one out. With her hippie-dippy name and dirty blond hair, it was easy for her fellow students to dismiss her as a lightweight. It used to roil her, that kind of assumption. But she had learned, over the years, to deal with it. She had ignored her high school chemistry teacher’s suggestion to let her male lab partner run the experiments. She had endured the teasing that came with being the only girl in advanced math classes. She was used to being underestimated by others: she turned others’ low expectations into fuel.

Summer, like the season? Krishnan said when she introduced herself. Winter, spring…like that?

Not exactly. She smiled. "It’s S-o-m-e-r. She waited while he considered this. She liked being a little bit different. It’s a family name. And you’re…Chris?"

"Yes. Well, Kris with a K. It’s short for Krishnan, but you can call me Kris."

She was taken right away with his British-infused accent, which sounded worldly compared to her nondescript Californian tone. She loved hearing him answer questions in class, not only for his alluring accent, but also because his answers were unfailingly, beautifully correct. Some classmates thought he was arrogant, but Somer had always found intelligence to be a turn-on. It wasn’t until later she noticed his dimples, at Gabi’s house party in the spring. Somer sipped her rum-spiked tropical punch slowly. She knew how that type of drink could sneak up on you. Kris, on the other hand, appeared to have consumed several drinks already by the time he approached her.

So, I hear Meyer also asked you to work in his lab over the summer? His speech was slightly slurred as he leaned toward her, sitting cross-legged in the plastic white lawn chair.

Him too? Somer’s heart skipped a little. An invitation from Professor Meyer was one of the most coveted prizes for a first-year. Yes, you too? she asked, trying to sound neutral. She could sense Krishnan’s eyes lingering on the tiny bells trimming the neckline of her peasant blouse and was glad she had taken time to change.

He shook his head and took another big gulp of his pink drink. No, I’m going back to India for the summer. Last chance I’ll get before rotations. My mother will have my head if I don’t. When he smiled then, his dimples appeared. She felt a tingling travel from the pit of her stomach up to her head and wondered if she’d had too much punch already. She fought the urge to reach out and smooth the tousled black hair falling into his eyes, which made him look like a little boy. As he would tell her later, he was smitten with the way her green eyes sparkled in the light of the tiki torches, and how she laughed at everything he said that night.

They began studying together every evening, drilling each other before exams, pushing each other to do better. Kris enjoyed sparring with her intellectually and didn’t seem to mind when she occasionally outperformed him. It was a pleasant change from her last boyfriend who, after two years of struggling through premed classes and preparing for the MCATs with her, had dumped her once she got into Stanford and he didn’t. It had taken Somer years to realize that she wasn’t the one who should feel badly about this.

As much as she enjoyed sharing the intensity of school with Kris, it was his tender side she loved most: the way he spoke, when they lay in bed at night, about missing his brothers back home, or walking along the ocean wall with his father. What’s it like? she would ask him repeatedly. India sounded intriguing. She envisioned tall swaying coconut trees, warm tropical breezes, and exotic fruits. She had never traveled outside the country except to Canada to visit her grandparents. She had always longed for a big family like the one he described: the two brothers with whom he did everything, the pile of cousins that formed an impromptu cricket team at family gatherings. As an only child, Somer had a special relationship with her parents, but she couldn’t help feeling she had missed out on the camaraderie of siblings.

Those early years of medical school were blissfully simple, when they spent their days and nights in a tight circle of friends. They had a single purpose, and they were all students living the same modest lifestyle. They studied all the time, and their whole world was contained within the outer limits of the Stanford campus. Vietnam was over, Nixon was out, and free love was in. Somer spent hours showing Kris how to drive on the right side of the road. Later, he would tell her how much he appreciated that she didn’t make him feel self-conscious about being different. But the way she thought about it, they were more alike than they were different: she was a woman in a man’s world, just as he was a foreigner in America. Besides, they were both struggling med students before anything else.

By the time of their first board exams, Somer had fallen deeply in love. It was the first thing in her life that had happened without much effort on her part. Soon, they were so intertwined in each other’s lives she could not imagine a future without Krishnan. When their final year

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