Photo by Joao Melo Serreno
It was a beautiful springy day without the spring. It was actually winter but being in the south, the breeze made it perfect. The salad was prepared with an array of crispy beautiful simple herbs with greens, long stems, cilantro leaves, lettuce, pepper, tossed watercress, onion, peeled diced cucumber, orange segments, grinded halts of palm and juicy sliced tomatoes dribbled with olive oil.
Myanmar, Burma
The room was no bigger than any regular office. In any given day, it would house only an officer of the bank or a manager but not in this case, it was solely devoted to the consultants.
There were five of us with five different personalities, egos and backgrounds to spare, cramped up to our sleeves and eyeballs like sardines with only one objective, to complete the project. Some more flamboyant than the others with mustache longer then a trailer track to hold and the others, fragile soles ready to combust. Soon, we found ourselves, gradually aligning to the middle of the conurbation to two different regions – mostly ideological than substantive with governors, mayors and legions of followers.
Photo by Joao Melo Sereno
Life is a corridor of semicolons and zigzags
A passageway in the wood
One endless classroom streaming rays of the sun
A line of joyful and dejected storylines
An unscripted tomorrow nauseatingly brighter if you give it a try!
Angela Aguiar
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