My Saturday with Mishka.

“The tragedy is not that you’re gonna die this way,” my mother had said to me once, “it’s that you live this way.” [The Long Run by Mishka Shubaly.] I fall for words. Words of all

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Bali, Bursting in Ubud

I woke up to rain. To the faint smell of pandan leaves and frangipani. The sky was dark gray. The garden were glistening under the downpour. I watched the mist floating silently in the air, astounded

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