At the beginning of the fall semester, I went thrifting. Alone. I spent a couple of hours walking through aisles, paging through shirts and sweaters before deciding on three button-down shirts: One plaid, one polka-dot, one gingham. They were the first patterned shirts that I’ve owned since the first grade. [Read More…]
Off the Board
‘Basant’: A fading memory
The paper rustles in my hands, light on my fingers, delicate, flimsy, daring to tear apart if treated with the slightest harshness (much like me). I put the wire through the holes, stretch the paper out, and add a little tassel to the end, making the patang my own. My[Read More…]
Reporting on what I’ve gained from campus journalism
There’s a certain rush that comes with writing an important story. The words stream out as you find the quote that reveals the essence of the piece. Bits of reporting you collate together into a story that guides the public and exposes the truth. I’ve been thinking about this rush[Read More…]
Stop the swap—I want an apartment, too
CALLING ALL BROKE STUDENTS: Spacious two-and-a-half with a combined living room-bedroom literally two steps from the kitchen, bathroom, and front door! I’ have loved living in this cozy place, paying only $1,775 a month, with no utilities included. Anyone would be lucky to snatch this place up. But I’m only[Read More…]
Accounting for oneself and others
In my first year at McGill, my academic naiveté made me anxious and self-centred. I was convinced that good writing was a product of genius forged in solitude. When tasked with an essay, a tinge of shame came in reiterating the ideas of other scholars and writers. Citation in those[Read More…]
Two minutes till dawn
Every morning, my phone tells me the sun is setting two minutes later than the day before. Most students would be warmed by the thought of another winter ending and brighter days coming soon to wash away the snow. Yet, every morning, I cannot help but feel a slight anxiety[Read More…]
The sound of silence
Velvet and corduroy, tags on turtlenecks, a gaze sustained solely by counting. An unusually large fraction of my life is spent perceiving more sensory information than the average person or, perhaps, in the typical amount of time for a neurodivergent person. I thought everyone experienced life uncomfortably—I froze when hugged[Read More…]
Long live Herbert
Herbert came into my life sometime around 2018, a short, wilting thing from the reject corner at Home Depot. He led an unfortunate existence right from the start: About half of the people I told about him misheard me and thought I had named him “Pervert,” which… no. After some[Read More…]
Stop skirting around the clitoris
Content Warning: Mention of sexual violence Against a red background, my mobile browser welcomes a vibrating text box that reads “clit-me.” Clicking on the arrows to view the next page, I see a fluffy white avatar that I’m instructed to customize: A clitoris. I choose a wide-eyed smiley face, a[Read More…]
Keith from Bell, you have my heart
Last summer, at four in the morning, I found myself on a beautiful Aegean island, in the dark bedroom of an Ionian villa, with moonlight fluttering in through sheer curtains that generously ushered a gentle, cooling wind towards me. I lay sprawled on the bed, head propped up, phone in[Read More…]
