Abhi ParikhEnglish 004September 5, 2007On this hot and humid summer day my mother, my brother, and I stand in the living room of my grandparents bungalow in India where we are surrounded by my uncle, aunt, my two cousins, and of course the man of the house my grandfather. The moment felt special according to my mother’s face. She was overjoyed by seeing her father and brother after three long years since the last time we came to my grandfather’s house in India. The odor of your shirts smelled horrible as the fan on the ceiling of the living room blow down on your bodies. As I was speaking to my cousins about America a small, black haired, with rankles on her face walked from the kitchen with food that smelled wonderful. I knew that smell and it was only made by one and only person in my family. It was my grandmother. My face was amazed and also overjoyed. On the other hand my mother was crying. I believe the only reason she was crying was the tears of joy in seeing she mother for a long time. My mother ran to her and hugged her like a large size teddy bear. As my
This is the end of the preview.
access the rest of the document.