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    Sentiment lost in symbols

    Life, Parisa Pichitmarn, Published on 11/11/2015

    » Personally, November is a bit of a bummer month, for not having anything to look forward to. The only festive frolicking is Loy Krathong -- and I'm not sure what that commemorates or celebrates precisely. Out of habit and some weird justification, my household will probably have to float something in our little village pond. Mostly because it's become a bit of a societal requirement -- you're considered a total misanthrope if the neighbours notice that you don't show up. Besides being shunned by the village, would I be forever blacklisted by the water gods for choosing to opt out of this eye-watering and ecologically reckless festival? 


    Robbing from the rich, but giving to whom?

    Life, Parisa Pichitmarn, Published on 26/09/2014

    » Life has meaning again, now that Downton Abbey has returned to our TV screens, its fifth season beginning last Sunday. Its otherworldly visuals continue to draw me in, with the upstairs goings-on of the aristocrats and the downstairs drama among the servants still as captivating as ever. I actually have to remind myself every time I watch an episode that people from another continent in this world of ours actually lived like this less than 100 years ago: that cooks had to dine separately from the rest of the servants in a stately home; that members of the upper class changed clothes as often as five times a day; that it was inconceivable that a proper lady or gentleman would have to perform actual work to earn a living.


    My invented history

    Life, Parisa Pichitmarn, Published on 06/11/2013

    » The political climate these past few days has given me enough inspiration (and audacity) to think that I might just make it as the next Isabel Allende. Peppered with some magical realism, but mostly stirred by my surroundings and TV broadcasts, I give you the synopsis of my future best-selling novel:


    Keep calm, it's just a royal being

    Life, Parisa Pichitmarn, Published on 19/07/2013

    » Writing this from London, I look around and reflect: In this land of the civilised and cultured, members of the royal family are referred to by mere first names by the public. Kate this, Kate that. William this, William that. I think her dress is terribly meh; how could he possibly consider polo matches the weekend his wife is supposed to give birth - these comments, made out in the open, could go on forever.

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