Yet another attempt to answer that eternal question: “How was India?”

20 May, 2016

18 May, 2016

Throughout the last months of my stay in India, I put a lot of effort in my so called Final Community Project. ‘Too much salt’, a street art project on domestic violence was supposed to be an attempt to demonstrate my learnings and give something, however small, ‘back’  to my community. At first, I was…

16 May, 2016

Because sometimes there is no lesson. No takeaway. Sometimes things are just fun.    

16 March, 2016

Sunday morning in Pagdandi, the book chai cafe that I love so much. I’m trying to finally write some letters when Ashwath suddenly asks me: “So Mandula, how do you experience it? To be a woman here in India, I mean?”  I stop for a second and consider which answer I’ll give him. But I’m…

06 February, 2016

Dear Diary, There is something I have been meaning to tell you for a while now. It’s been bothering me quite a bit and I can no longer go on pretending that nothing is wrong. I want to put some things right between us. As it is, I am not being fair to either you…

24 November, 2015

PROLOGUE Strangers cry in California and I am there, dressed in vibrant red. Knots tie my stomach to my skin, the patio shuffles my bare feet apart.  They, we, us, them, she, him, I are leaving.  Really now.  FIRST CHAPTER  In the corner of our stuffy common room, a boy softly plays the piano. People…

29 August, 2015