On the flight to Dhaka, within minutes, I found myself having to fight the armrest war. Yes. I’m talking about the phenomenon we call manspreading

Travelling is always an act of surrender, especially when you're journeying towards cities whose tongues are alien to you. I have never had the distinction of being a polyglot. Sometimes certain languages feel familiar, like they're sitting at the tip of your tongue, except your brain is unable to compute either the vocabulary or the grammar. The one thing that is constant, however relatively it may manifest, is the patriarchal mode of verbal and non-verbal discourse that follows you wherever you go.