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Vol. 15, Spring 2010

Fiction | Burma
The Road to Wanting (extract) Wendy Law-Yone
Eyes narrowing and flaring as though to focus his gaze, he seemed to be looking through me, past me, down his nose at me, trying to see beyond the obvious, to pick out some hidden detail. But whenever I tried to return his scrutiny, I came up against a stillness, an emptiness, in the glassy depths of his green-blue eyes.

Memoir | China
Go South, Further South Liao Yiwu
It's a hard life, being a writer. Over the past two decades I have interviewed more than 300 people at the bottom of society and chronicled their lives - particularly harsh lives because of disasters and tumultuous political campaigns. None of my books is permitted in China, but my writings have reached the internet and, despite attempts by the authorities to censor cyberspace, a growing audience at home.

Interview | United Kingdom
Hanif Kureishi James Kidd
We are all mixed race now – me, Barack Obama, Tiger Woods, Lewis Hamilton. In those days, you were despised if you were half-caste because people had this notion of purity. You could either be black or you could be white. The idea that you could be in between seemed like a dreadful mix-up.

Photography | India
A Leap of Faith Palani Mohan
The largest religious gathering on Earth: the Kumbh Mela
From the Editor
Memoir | Vietnam
Love Your Parents, Follow Your Bliss: Andrew Lam's account of obedience and independence in an Asian family
Interview | Tibet
Pico Iyer and the Dalai Lama: Ramona Koval talks to Pico Iyer about the light and dark sides of Tibetan Buddhism
Thailand A Most Generous Uncle Tew Bunnag
Vietnam Evening Meal Nguyen Qui Duc
Burma The Counterfeit David Yost
Indonesia Fatiha Tanaz Bhathena
Japan Mazakon Mitsuyo Kakuta
Kirby Wright, Arvind Krishna Mehrotra, Kabir, Paul St John Mackintosh, Kevin Simmonds, Tishani Doshi
 
Accidents were a fact of life at the orphanage. Stubbed toes. Spilt milk. Dead mothers. Fatherless babies. The house that held them – thirty-eight children, the old matron and the cook – seemed an accident in itself: three tiers of cement and brick amid a cluster of corrugated metal shanties. There, Julie was a duck in a pond of frogs: the only girl in the kampong without an Indonesian name. — Fatiha
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Asian literature,Asian writers,Asian writing,Chinese literature,Chinese writing,Asian American writing