Author: iSab
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Jakarta
Jakarta is a sinking megacity its own country is abandoning — thirty million people running out of time, and I keep assuming I can go later.
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Colombo
The tea in my cup has come from the island behind Colombo all my life — the abroad I taste every morning and have still never once been to see.
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Cairo
I have wanted to stand at the foot of Cairo’s pyramids and feel how small a life is beside a thing that has outlasted every empire that came to gawp.
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Buenos Aires
I have wanted to fly the whole length of the earth to Buenos Aires for years — the far city I suspect I would understand before I left the airport.
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Melbourne
Melbourne is the city I have built almost entirely out of weather and side streets — a place that changes its mind four times before lunch.
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Montreal
Montreal is the city I think of as a clerical error — a piece of Europe entered, somehow, in the wrong column of the atlas.
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Budapest
Budapest is two cities that married late and kept separate beds — a flat one and a hilly one, with a grey river running down the gap between them.
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Sundarbans
The Sundarbans are my own home state’s wild edge — the world’s largest mangrove forest where the great rivers meet the sea, and the tiger that swims between islands.
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Toronto
Toronto is a flat, orderly city on the shore of an inland sea — the whole world resettled politely along a frozen lake, the New-World city so many like me went to.
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Ho Chi Minh City
Ho Chi Minh City — the old Saigon — a hot riverine city of a million scooters and French-colonial bones, shadowed by a war I grew up watching on the news.
