Prologue
Two lanky gentlemen are standing in a visa application line at the Japanese consulate in Delhi.
Mr Sajjan: “Mr. Sharma, remind me again why we're exporting Indian drivers, of all things? Mr Sharma: Sajjan Ji, it's just another ploy by the opposition to trick the ruling government into embarrassing themselves. A conspiracy, I tell…
I’m 10 minutes into my hike to Abukuma Caves when I realise I have a slight problem. The last few days of marching on a sightseeing mission around rural Fukushima, Japan, is finally starting to take its toll.
Blisters. A hiker’s worst enemy.
I slip off my sneakers, trading the painful rubbing for the unrelenting…
As kids, Mum would tell us, “Don’t talk to strangers.” But living in Tokyo for a month, I thought I’d be spontaneous, so I searched online and found a bunch of strangers to go and stay with.
I know it sounds kind of shady, but those strangers were actually a host family.
To get placed…
To the last man standing. To the big night out. The party isn’t over if the music’s still playing. Who did I get that cigarette off? Did I steal your last sip? That’s my mate DJ’ing – I can’t stop yet. Sticky toilet floors… dudes can’t aim. Did you assholes forget how to flush?
The…
He bumbles aimlessly through the station, his sandy brown hair a beacon, head and shoulders above the tide of mostly black. He has no passport and no wallet. He is a ghost - a shadow, staring with blank confusion at the tangled train timetable, buzzing his hotel room key at the turnstile instead of his…
Clack, Clack, Clack. I press my teeth together as I sit on a stool in the tiny, five-person bar. The edges of my vision blur as I stare vacantly at her angelic face, stretching and tightening, as she mouths voiceless words. Is she speaking Japanese? I don’t even know at this point. Wish I had…
It’s a Monday night and I’m standing in a bar bedecked with crushed crimson velvet, staring at a phallic mound of vibrating silicone. I’m in Japan and, up until now, most depictions of female sexuality I’ve seen have involved women in school uniforms. Such representations can be viewed in any 7/11 porn mag section, on…
It was 2PM in Osaka, and I was staring a pair of socks to death from the window of a shop in Tsuruhashi.
This was rare for me, as usually whenever I would come down from my friend’s apartment to the shopping alley, I would buy whatever foods tempted me and bring back a whole…
She beams at me expectantly. I look back confused and unsure of what she is saying.
Damn I wish I spoke Japanese.
I step onto the train carriage and dart towards the only available seat. Seats on trains are a hot commodity in Tokyo, so I am feeling pretty stoked. I peel my raincoat off…
Together with a flood of Japanese businessmen on their way home, I leave the train station and embark on a journey through Tokyo's suburbia. It’s a mild summer night and crickets are chirping in one continuous orchestra as I walk by the channel of a small creek framed in green. The moon shines on high…
I stare out the plane window at the twinkling lights in the darkness below. That’s Japan down there. Hitting the ground feels like victory: a life’s dream of coming here fulfilled in the matter of seconds. With a big smile despite my tired eyes, I step out of the arrival gate and drink in the…
When countries outside of Japan started to realise that Lolita fashion was a thing, I was still a kid, busy tottering around the house in the shoes I called my Ruby Slippers - my mother's red pumps.
I wasn't supposed to wear those shoes. And certainly not over the wooden floorboards -- something about leaving…