The last time I came to Ooty was when I was graduating from high school. I was a certified loner then, and I remember thinking that my biggest fear then was if anyone would agree to be my roommate. I don’t remember anything of Ooty. Not its hills, not its climate, not its gorgeous chocolates.
Siquijor has healers of all kinds. Herbolarios like Ann, who you read about in my previous post. Then, there are bolo-bolo healers. There are also the darker mambabarang – the ones who will cast a curse with their potions. But the ones I want to find are the bolo-bolo healers. Bolo-bolo healers use a drinking
The last few days of this year. A year that has been a shard of revolving dust, a whirlwind of chaos and mindless energy. As the year winds down, I can’t but think of the things that made me happy through the year. It’s difficult to do so. Our mind has a tendency to shut
Burma or Myanmar? A country that is democratic or authoritarian? Modern or traditional? Yangon or Rangoon? The contradictions of Burma are apparent from the time you land in Yangon’s international airport. It is winter and the city is wrapped in a slightly colder haze. The roads are wide swept and clean and the visions
I think the title of this blog post just about sums up the day. The mornings in Goa here have been always sunny. No trace of clouds. But slowly or in an instant, depending on the mood, the tide turns, and the clouds gather. In an instant, you can go = from scorching sun to
I have fought against it. Resisted it. Battled it. Yet, I find myself shaking off the cobwebs of online obscurity. Like a baby that has opened it’s eyes to the world, I find myself on the Internet. These pages might offer succor to the weary, I hope. I kid myself. I do not dream of
A few years ago – was it almost 6 or 7 years ago? – when I left China I wrote to a good friend of mine about the ending of one stay – she wrote back saying that all endings are beginnings. It stuck in my head. Just as one thing turns over to an