On a Sunday afternoon three weeks after I arrived in Bangalore, I found myself sitting in a tea house, feeling that, for the first time since I landed in India, I did not want to order masala chai. The tea house was the one in… Read More
Sudah lewat tengah malam saat George Whitman berjalan tertatih di ruang tengah toko bukunya. Malam itu ia sulit tidur. George — yang rambut putihnya tergerai awut-awutan — berjingkat-jingkat di antara belasan anak muda yang tidur bergelimpangan, beberapa di antara mereka penulis petualang, yang lain pejalan… Read More
The Dusty Sneakers 