What do I call home? Not a place anymore. Perhaps a sentiment? An identity? A talent? A belief system?
Although I would never trade my pani-puri or chai for a bratwurst and beer (well, for a Glühwein maybe); I love what living abroad has done for me.
Just when it seemed I was at my wit's (and tit's) end at the icy chill, Hamburg decided to smile down some colour.
I love being organized and planning ahead. But I also love the unexpected, the spontaneous and even the chaotic. There is a certain magic in doing things on the spur of the moment or just because.
As I bid a physical adieu to the remains of my father, I wish to answer a question many have asked me since he died. "What can I do to help?"
It beats me why I chose this spot to zone out and zen in. In retrospect, perhaps because it's a fitting analogy to my present status. Today is day 1 of my 19th month in a new country. While I have a lot going for me, I also have a lot going against. I love … Continue reading Zen at an intersection
I'm going to my home of choice Yet as I leave my home of birth I feel a pang of pain It's goodbye now, until we meet again This dichotomy of life Present at every turn Transitioning from old to new Another dawn, a different hue Change is inspiring and scary Both exciting and jarring … Continue reading Go and flow