4. Lost Girls Like Me
I found my voice in the hands of a self-styled Colonel Kurtz on an island in the Gulf of Thailand. A white man running from something, he’d decided himself a temple father, fat under a palm tree handing out easy wisdoms to lost girls like me. My Israeli and I had gone to Bangkok to renew our Indian visas; with our passports stamped we travelled out to the islands for a bit more beach life, Colonel Kurtz was a friend of his. I remember almost nothing of the time we spent there except for sitting at the feet of that large, sweating man. My months of mute had made me invisible yet suddenly I…
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