Nostalgia is a subject that rules the world of most expatriates, and Kwai-Yun-Li is no different. The accountant-turned writer who moved to Toronto in the ’70s was in Kolkata last week to promote her book, The Palm Leaf and Other Stories. And like the books of most expatriates, Li’s book too deals with her memories, of her homeland.

When the Chinese-Indian author turned up at the Oxford Bookstore last week to launch her book, she was welcomed by members of her community who turned up to extend their support to her. “For me this is a homecoming though I wont get to do much in this trip as it’s strictly for professional reasons being commissioned by the Asia Society India Centre as a part the Chinese New Year celebrations. The last time I was here it was nearly a decade ago to do some research on a grant by the Canadian government,” says the author. From her chosen profession of crunching numbers to penning verses about her homeland, LI does not find the two too dissimilar.

“Accounting is a way of unwinding for me,” she says as a way of explanation.

For Li who grew up in the turbulent times of 1960s, she is amazed to see the change in Kolkata in a span of four decades. The sixties marred by the Naxalite movement were tough times to grow up in, especially for the Chinese-Indians, who were yet to be recognised as Indian citizens. “I got married and left for Toronto. Today when I see my great nieces and the kind of freedom they enjoy in Kolkata, I am almost envious. In those days it was unimaginable for us to think of having jobs. Today’s youngsters are so busy with their lives, friends and careers. The present generation of Chinese Indians in Kolkata are a content lot, having so many options before them so do not think about migrating. In our generation, most had to for lack of options in the city.”

But what’s changed most of is the external facade of the city, with older buildings being torn down. “Most of my memories of places are associated with the people who used to live in those spaces. But most have scattered and migrated. Of course, I managed to track down an old friend of mine from Wellend Goldsmith who still lives in the same building that she used to all those years ago and it was wonderful. But otherwise it’s so tragic. There are still some lovely old houses lying around empty because their occupants have migrated. The last time I was here I found such an old house, and its beauty in its contrasted with its emptiness created a sense of pathos.”