Life spills out onto the balcony or veranda. A chat with the vegetable vendor or a tea break with a neighbor is as essential as the workday itself.

"Ma! Where is my blue tie? The one with the thin stripes!" shouted Rohan, their twenty-four-year-old son, from his bedroom. He was a software developer, working the graveyard shift for a US client, yet somehow still struggling to find his clothes.

Indian family systems, collectivistic society and psychotherapy - PMC

"Check the ironing pile! And don't wake Dadi!" his mother, Meera, called back. She was simultaneously packing a tiffin carrier for Anil and kneading dough for parathas .