May 31, 2011
Backpacking with a Book

Homebound

A lot happened, some were rewarding, some surprising, some unwelcome, some outrageous. But May indeed was a rewarding month.  I’m back on trails again. A call from a travel editor prodded me to reacquaint myself to the trails. Mountains, trails—they remind me of us, humans. They can be unpredictable, predictable.  They can be selfish, inamiable, indifferent. The boyfriend said geography could not be selfish, humans could, are. “You were trying to personify geography,” he said. No, I wasn’t. It’s a cold fact. And nature has every reason to be. It reminds me of Arundhati Roy’s passage from her The God of […]
April 26, 2011

SUNSTAR: Places of Memories

 [Past] does change. The present changes the past. Looking back you do not find what you left behind. —Kiran Desai, The Inheritance of Loss A traveler intrudes upon the privacy of a place. Yet, is it possible to be part of its privacy in a time too limited, too short, too constrained? Possibly not. To reconcile the gap between time and understanding the place, one creates a version of the place on memories. And the place becomes truthful, sincere to memory. Mt. Timbak: The Mini-Calvary Experience the relief of being an unknown transplant to the locals and hide the perspective […]
February 22, 2011
Backpacking with a Book

Salman Rushdie| The Ground Beneath Her Feet

A photograph is a moral decision taken in one eight of a second, or one sixteenth, or one one-hundred-and-twenty eight. Snap your fingers; a snapshot’s faster. Halfway between voyeur and witness, high artist and low scum. —Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet
February 18, 2011
Backpacking with a Book

Dean Young: The Rhythms Pronounce Themselves Then Vanish

After they told me the CT showed there was nothing wrong with my stomach but my heart was failing, I plunked one of those weird two-dollar tea balls I bought in Chinatown and it bobbed and bloomed like a sea monster and tasted like feet and I had at this huge chocolate bar I got at Trader Joe’s and didn’t answer the door even though I could see it was UPS with the horse medication and I thought of that picture Patti took of me in an oval frame. Sweat itself is odorless, composed of water, sodium chloride, potassium salts, […]