On the train I move at birdish speeds. I see buildings blur into living embers, points stretched into foreign conversation and foreign frames and the infinity of presence upon my sight. And the train too is looking, spawns a second set of eyes, mirrors me in its glass. My doppelgänger in the window glides in
In the midst of Mumbai’s scorching hot summer under a strict COVID-19 lockdown, I found myself longing for an M1 tram ride across Berlin. So much so, that I started watching eight-minute long YouTube videos of the M1 tram going from Pastor Niemöller Platz to Am Kupfergraben on loop. This longing also prompted me to
When you hear the word “college”, many things spring to mind: late nights, gallons of coffee, mountains of textbooks, new friends. For many teenagers, going to university represents a new chapter in their life, as for many it’s their first time living away from home. Countless film and TV scenes depict young adults heading off
Slogans like #Leavenoonebehind, #Wirhabenplatz, and #EvacuateMoria are currently spilling off of balconies, out of windows, and painted on walls and buildings throughout the city of Berlin, including on our own on-campus porta-potty. For a city (and world, for that matter) divided on migration, Berlin doesn’t seem to be divided at all recently. So, what is
I received an email from The New York Review of Books, though I do not remember signing up for their mailing list, advertising gifts for the Class of 2020. Enclosed in the email was a catalogue of thin silver bracelets with quotes from famous authors. The advertisement’s featured bracelet had a quote from Thoreau in a handwriting-like font that said: “Go confidently in the / direction of your dreams— / Live the life you’ve imagined.” I will not be buying one of these silver bracelets, nor have I learned, these past few months, how to bake sourdough.
My grandmother says, Das Militär steckt in unserem Blut. My grandmother says, The military runs in our family. What is lost in translation is the word steckt. Hides, is stuck, is plugged. Somehow the military exists in our blood, lingering. The verb steckt suggests something active, positive or negative, but a presence nonetheless.
I. In Argentina, where it all started, the green handkerchief can be found everywhere these days; tied to the necks and the wrists of women and men, as part of their hairstyle, hanging from purses, bags and backpacks, on bikes, cars, strollers, and even tied to pets and around trees. It is also painted on
What I can remember, however, every morning, is a dream. Not merely a memory of a memory hiding in the recess of a bad night’s sleep. I remember every detail. The color of the curtains in the room, the number of flowers in the vase, the dialogue, what I’m wearing, who I am. I can recall a maximum of three dreams from the previous night, but I average around two. But just like you probably have no idea what you ate for dinner a week ago, eventually the dream falls away. I make a point of remembering the ones I want to remember and I let the rest go. People always tell me to write them down. I’ve protested this practice. A dream is ineffable, not simply language, it isn’t just a story…