Do you know that feeling when you hear a good song and want to write one too? And then you realise you can only write lyrics half as good as those, and not even in the language that you want to. I was born into a nation that teaches its mother tongue as a second language. My mouth is an instruction ...
My roommates point at the window. Look outside, they say. It’s all white, everything is white. The snow is coming down fast. But this is not the first snow we wanted, not how we wanted it. I’m sorry you had to leave. And I’m sorry you had to leave the way you did. But where did you go? You didn’t ...
Ma won’t make poha for us on Sunday evenings anymore, and even on the rare occasions that she does, she won’t serve those golden-yellow grains alongside a glass full of steaming hot milk. I no longer ride behind your metallic cycle on my pastel one every school morning. I go by car, the one you ...
I walk out of my dorm in my polka-dot pajamas and short-sleeved crushed watermelon T-shirt to get myself some food. Halfway to the Ratty, I realize I have made a pathetic decision. I pull my phone out and frantically text the group chat:
I stepped onto a campus sidewalk, two days after the rush of move-in and still unsure how to find my way to V-Dub from my EmWool dorm, the Main Green a foreign field. I remember staring at your face, confused about why you were extending your arm forward to shake my hand, completely oblivious to the ...
You realize that you’ve forgotten to throw Love in the trashcan. Love passed its expiry date a year ago but remains stuck to the ceiling of your room because you want to stare at the ceiling and think of Love every night before falling asleep.
Solutions by The State News
