(This is an archived copy of an essay originally published here at India Currents magazine.) In the past week, I have been thinking about my childhood trips to India. The jet lag—the surreal feeling of leaving one country and waking up in another. Upon returning to the United States, my sister and I would stay up all night until my father took us to McDonald’s at 5 a.m. for breakfast (pancakes, sausage and scrambled eggs). After breakfast, we would go grocery shopping. There were never any lines at 7 a.m. Something in that memory of America died within me. Assailed by news stories of executive orders banning Muslims, building a…