I could blame Prajwal Parajuly for the burn I got on the beach in Santa Monica on Independence Day. It was because of him that I sat in the blazing midday sun for hours, oblivious to my scorching extremities, devouring his debut, The Gurkha’s Daughter, from start to finish.
But I won’t hold it against him, for the pleasure of these short stories — about the Nepalese diaspora — trumps the peril of having singed my skin. Parajuly has achieved what many writers only dream of doing: Drawing characters in realistic, artful scenarios that encapsulate the beauty and pain and complexity of life. No wonder his book has become a bestseller in the UK. His talent matches the hype.
Each story left me longing for more. [pullquote]You won’t love or even like every person you’ll meet, but you’ll thank Parajuly for the introduction.[/pullquote]You won’t love or even like every person you’ll meet, but you’ll thank Parajuly for the introduction. A young woman chooses a boorish man of the same caste as a husband to please her parents, eschewing another suitor whom she truly loves. An enslaved maid in the service of a bratty, abusive matron patiently endures abuse while dreaming of a better life. A Bhutanese refugee’s estranged spouse suddenly reappears after she’s chosen for relocation to the US.
Parajuly stops each tale at a moment that leaves you desperate for elaboration, underscoring how difficult it is to sew up modern, global issues presented here in neat little bows.
As a young woman growing up in modest means in Brooklyn, I was drawn to the stories of Flannery O’Connor and Eudora Welty to sate my interest in a place that then seemed so faraway: the deep south of America. Just as their artfulness is set against the backdrop of a particular landscape, while managing to address universal themes of longing, loss, desire, and heartache, so is the case for this new author. Parajuly happens to be of Indian-Nepali descent, educated in the West, but I hope he and his work don’t get relegated by geography.[pullquote align=”right”]Parajuly has given us a lovely gift, food for thought, and delectable, too.[/pullquote]
As I sat on the beach, I burst into tears at the end of the last story in the collection, called The Immigrant. My partner, who happens to be an immigrant, woke up from a doze. Relaying the storyline couldn’t do it justice: The writing was what I wanted to share. He sat and read, rapt with attention. It was worth sitting exposed, unprotected, in the sun, a bit longer to watch his reaction. Parajuly has given us a lovely gift, food for thought, and delectable, too.
Lisa Napoli has worked and written for CNN, the New York Times, and MSNBC. She is currently a contributor to KCRW in Los Angeles. She is the author of Radio Shangri-la: What I Discovered on my Accidental Journey to the Happiest Kingdom on Earth.
