Excerpt from Happy by Celina Baljeet Basra, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Before I came to Europe, I dreamt of Europe.

In my dreams, I envisioned my European home. German engi- neers, Danish designers, and Swiss cesspool specialists had joined forces to design this dream house, located in the center of Europe, somewhere pastoral and green. Out front stood a tree, an oak, with a trunk as wide as a healthy German man is tall, six feet, coinciden- tally, the same diameter of a Russian gas pipeline, just as sturdy and unyielding. On the crown of the tree, Dutch maidens with heart- shaped mouths were lounging, lazily spinning cotton candy out of their super long, golden hair while shitting grated gouda cheese directly into my mouth. The cheese production was as natural to them as breathing; there was nothing ugly about it. And I was standing underneath them with my mouth wide open, enjoying every morsel. The cotton candy clouds descended, hovering briefly, then covered my head like a golden veil. I was a bride, a cotton candy bride of Europe, well-fed on gouda in preparation for the wedding ceremony. Finally, the Dutch maidens turned into Dutch boys, who were frying up artisanal bacon. Somehow, they'd managed to bring state-of-the- art pans and tiny gas cookers up into the tree—

I digress. Let's just say, my foolishness is past. The dream was just a dream; radish is my reality. And I always dig where I stand.

If you were to inquire about my language skills, you'd be surprised to learn that, in addition to my ever-improving Italian, I speak a little bit of French. I taught myself back in India while watching Godard movies on my mobile phone.

My extensive experience with farm animals big and small, i.e., water buffaloes and Beetal goats, will enable me to handle the job of managing your pecore nere with ease and vigor. I am no stranger to loneliness and isolation, which will come in handy while working on those Sardinian hills alone. I will have my black sheep to keep me company.

If you would like to call my former employer as a reference, I would kindly ask: please don't. They are ignorant of my wish to widen my skill set. The coordinators don't forget and they don't forgive a debt, ever. Take my word for it; I will be the best worker you ever hire.

Do let me know if there is anything else I could send to support my application, i.e., letters of recommendation, or writing samples, such as a nine-page screenplay entitled The Sad Dancer (Tawa Press, 2004). I do not presently have my certificates and qualifications with me, but I am happy to ask my mother to send them from India.

I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Happy Singh Soni

Excerpted from Happy by Celina Baljeet Basra. Copyright © 2023 by Celina Baljeet Basra. Excerpted by permission of Astra House. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.