It's a work of short fiction (not sure length - my guess is 2000-3000 words?) by Tricia Dower

The story really struck my husband, who tore (oh the horrors!) it out of the magazine to bring home to me. This is notable. He brings me an occasional article from a newspaper or news-related magazine (typically on a technology topic or one related to my non-for-profit work) but a whole STORY. My husband read a work of short fiction? But anyway, that's the lead-in, it really resonated with someone who would not normally read short fiction.

Here are the first 13:
Ashwin's Rules
On a breeze September afternoon, Ashwin Kapoor burst into an odorous, noisy, brightly lit world. He bore Leena's milky-tea complexion and sleepy eyes. From Prem, he took his melon-shaped head and wiry frame. He felt arms, legs, fingers and toes growing, as a tree senses its roots burrowing into the earth. He heard the whoosh of more than a thousand enzymes racing through his cells. Power seemed to radiate from his pores, reaching out to all else that lived.

Leena and Prem appeared to him, even then, as disconnections of motion, noise, touch, and smell: the scratch of starched cotton, the whispery blur of silk, the pinch of incense. They sailed him around their small rooms in Toronto's Little India, pointing at shapes. "Ganesha," they said, pulling his fingers...

===

Interestingly, as I re-read the story beginning, I realized that the story gave me a misconception from the start. My interpretation of the story is that it's about the world according to an autistic or otherwise handicapped boy. It's a really interesting study in what his impressions must be. However, from the first 13, I got the distinct impression that this was a work of speculative fiction - that the boy had superpowers of some sort, to be able to feel the rush of enzymes and feeling his limbs growing.

This is not something that the author maintains throughout the story, but rather just helps set the stage for the unusual point of view, which is limited to the child's POV but omniscient in many ways since there are things explained that I suspect a child with the kinds of disabilities depicted wouldn't be able to understand or interpret.

At any rate, I suspect this isn't all that interesting if you haven't read the rest of this story...and I was going to end it there, but through the wonders that the Internet provides - here's a link to the story!
http://www.hemispheresmagazine.com/may07/ashwin.html

I am thrilled for two reasons.

The main reason I'm thrilled is that I had completely forgotten about this thread. I was recently disappointed when I couldn't remember enough about this story's title or date to be able to find it online in a search (I think I tried airline magazine archives, but they weren't sorted in a way that I could usefully search.)

The second reason, though, is that I'm so glad that you posted (and relieved that I didn't sound too ridiculous in my 2 year old post!) Your story is still with me, and I still think of it often, even though parenting a child with autism/mental handicaps is not something I have experience with.

As writers, so often we send our work out into the wind and just hope that we can have an impact on someone, somehow (even if it's just the slush pile editor to pass it up the food chain!) My 8 year old son told me tonight that sometimes he gets worried when he's writing something, that he doesn't want to share it. When I asked more about why, he said because he was worried that people would laugh. Oh my little old soul! He hit right to the heart of what keeps some of us from submitting our work out into the big, bad world.

I would love any suggestions you have on submitting, particularly to a market like Hemispheres Magazine.

I'm sure once I get over my excitement at your post, I will have more questions. I also hope you'll consider poking around here at Hatrack. While there's a heavy leaning toward speculative fiction, there's a wide range of tastes and styles, as well as skill levels from new to the craft to those who've had many works published, and much range in between.