I’m fascinated by the stories of people who studied in India. It always sounded like they went to war and we didn’t. They are always so texturized with debauchery, with woes, hopes and deaths, and failures and triumphs. Such …
It’s a red suitcase. Hardback. Gift from my old chum Kagame. She’s out there somewhere. Alone. Tell me, have you seen her? (Cue in MC Hammer’s song here). You don’t imagine you would feel so distraught until you are …
