Ain’t No Place to Call Home

by Kruz Aibrahms Not many of us can claim having more than ten homes while growing up yet I had sixteen by the age of thirty. This was due to my father’s vagrant duty stints.  He was a cop with uncompromising loyalty to his master. In the sixties, transfers were the order of the day for policemen.  We never… Continue reading Ain’t No Place to Call Home

Uncles & Aunties

by R Punithamathi K Rajagopal. photo by Krishnan Sinniah HARI RAYA AT NORHAYATI’S I was 8. Visited my classmate Norhayati for Hari Raya. The place was filled with so many Chins’ and Angs’ and Sams’ and Marys’ and Muthus’ much like Nasi Kandar. Hari Raya means food. Ketupat and satay plentiful. I grabbed a stick… Continue reading Uncles & Aunties