I had not heard of Sachsenhausen before my trip to Berlin. Located in Oranienburg, just outside the city, it was the first iteration of Nazi design—the early concentration camp was shaped as a triangle to enable the guards to have a full view of the prisoners at all times. Beginning in 1936, it was the…

Procrastination had followed me to London. An old, stubborn enemy, Procrastination is always there when the sun starts setting and the coffee starts brewing and the heart starts feeling nervous for the long night’s work ahead.

“Honey, you’re so talented with computers,” my mom smiles. “Can you please help me attach this file?”

“There is a BMW dealership in Benares now,” I tell a friend over Skype, “just outside the airport.”

Although we are excited beyond comprehension, we are silent. The wings of a fan turn with purpose; we breathe in this moment while attempting to wrap our heads around the magnitude of a man who commands a room without words, commands a nation without recognition, commands respect without force.