When a thought is allowed to speak, it spreads its offsprings out of my mind. Like spores, they float in the air.

I spent a few months in Kerala recently. Most of the kids I talked to claimed their favorite subject was Malayalam, which is also their native language.

A thought is a thread. With a beginning and an end. But it never exists alone. It’s tangled with others.

I left my hometown 15 years ago. But never arrived anywhere else.

I love drawing birds with code. Inspired by my brother’s love for birdwatching, I admire the uniqueness of their feathers, colors, and sounds.