Lost in translation

Living in liminality

As I approach a translated work, I am often conflicted about whether I am introducing myself to the text with the arrogance of ignorance.
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The Poetry of Reality

Lost in Translation

Last summer I saw myself in a test tube. Watching my amateur-ly extracted DNA swirling in a glass tube, I remember panicking at the enormity of the situation. This was it. This was all there was to me. A strand of proteins and four letters with the ability to write
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Conversations

Lost in Translation

Who knows me the most intimately in this entire world? My best friend? My mother? Both these answers would be completely acceptable but also completely incorrect. The right answer to who knows me the most intimately in the world is: my waxing lady, Shreya. There is no experience in the
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