Tag Archives: journal

The difference an age makes

You’re in your early 20’s sitting with friends, having lunch in a gastro pub somewhere along the Thames River. Swans are idling by. The chardonnay is flowing. You’re in the middle of a funny story. You have everyone’s attention. A … Continue reading

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Way of the ninja….yeah, right

Recently, people have been introducing me like this. ‘Oh, Shuili, this is Rebecca. She doesn’t have AC’. To which Shuili will reply, ‘Really? How do you manage?’ Then she’ll look at me with slightly narrowed eyes, like I’m some rare … Continue reading

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The danger game

They sent out a couple of drones at first, hovering inches from my nose, casually racking up data in their tiny sensor fields. Elegant things, the colour of mandarins. Their torsos and abdomens joined by a single cellular thread. Then … Continue reading

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Liminal: the only place to be

“I don’t want to rush towards the sunrise,” I told a friend a few years back, while describing emerging from a six month-long depressive episode. “I want to hang out a bit in the pre-dawn.” She looked at me across … Continue reading

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An Easter Tale

The other night I went to dinner with the neighbours here in the Deux Sevre region of southern France. I walked over there since it’s only about ten minutes away, rather briskly since the temperatures had dropped unexpectedly. As I … Continue reading

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A touch of the Irish

“May the roof above us never fall in, and may we friends beneath it never fall out.” Irish saying I don’t like Guinness and have a healthy fear of leprechauns, but nevertheless I joined the 29th St. Patrick’s Day Parade … Continue reading

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The touching

Sunil and I wander down to his boat and sit on the undulating water, watching the day unfurl. A man descends the ghat steps, a small monkey grins at us from his shoulder. Sunil notices where my interest is going. … Continue reading

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Tales from the time mandala

The ghats of Varanasi are the arms of the Ganges, supporting the devout as they wash away their sins or burn the bodies of those past sinning. Of all these sets of stone steps that lead to the water’s edge, … Continue reading

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Apocalypse life

What to do with this love that moves like immaculate conception? I will gaze into the sun without blinking Forge broadswords from abandonment Battle plans from moonlight I am without seed, or home, Without God or country, spouse or paycheck … Continue reading

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!ncomprehensible !ndia: yet another piece of the code

It first hit me as I threw a Snickers wrapper into a rubbish bin in the city of Mysore. The bin was shaped and painted like a snowman, which in the 40 degree heat made me feel even hotter than … Continue reading

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