One Day We’ll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter

A collection of essays, at times confessional, at times polemic, always funny (a biting, acerbic tone for the most part). I enjoyed Scaachi Koul’s writing and depiction of East/West cultural frictions. I especially liked her description of her relationship with her father, a relationship with which I strongly empathized. There is a certain masculine, 1950s/1960s post-partition era Indian man (especially the kind who might choose to immigrate) that I’ve come to know in my dad and uncles throughout my life, that was wonderfully rendered in these pages. It was in the sentences and paragraphs about her father that this book packed its emotional punch.