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NON FICTION: The Artist’s Doubts
This piece began in the trash, and there it stayed till I met Myint Soe, a Myanmarese artist. He sat across me in a longyi, chin resting on his hand, as if he was smoking an invisible cigarette. “If we look at this table, we’d both see the same thing. But if we were to put it… — read more
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NON FICTION: Strangers In Time
Sometimes my mind plucks out memories at random, and as part of the collateral, visions of people who’ve left a mark on my life without actually being a part of it get pulled out of the muck. These are strangers whose names and faces have escaped me through the passage of time, with only their actions serving… — read more
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NON FICTION: No Man’s An Island
“I don’t understand why you can’t get a girlfriend,” Craig said. I looked up from my Word document. “What.” “Yeah, it’s not like you’re butt-ugly or anything.” “Thanks… I think.” “No no no. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant—” “Haha!” Diane chimed in. “No need to apologise. He is ugly. Maybe not butt-ugly, but regular-ugly.” — read more
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NON FICTION: Baggage
Sara put her finger in the ant’s path. It backtracked momentarily, then crawled onto her finger. “Look at this ant,” she said. “Think about everything that it’s oblivious of.” “Mm hmm.” I kept my eyes on my book. I knew—and didn’t like—where this was headed. — read more
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NON FICTION: My First Tinder Date
I remember the days before I had a blog. Days where my friends were free to humiliate themselves in my presence without asking if I was going to write about them. Things have changed; today they treat me like a reporter waiting for his big scoop. They think I’m secretly documenting their every tic for a… — read more
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COPYWRITING: Red Wing Shoes
Just thought I’d try my hand at copywriting. Photoshop skills are horrendous. — read more
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NON FICTION: Deconstructed
I swung the door open and extended my arms. “Hey,” I said. “Hi,” she said, walking past me, straight up to my room. Trouble. I went up after her. “Is there something you wanna say?” Tears streaked her cheeks when she said, “I don’t think we can walk this path anymore.” — read more
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NON FICTION: When Nothing Means Anything
“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.” -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow # Your alarm clock rings, and you forget how many times you’ve hit the snooze button today. It doesn’t matter because the clock says 7:20. That’s five snoozes,… — read more
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