Growing up between a flux of countries and cultures meant that borders were never clearly defined in my head. I remember experiencing severe culture shock when I moved to Switzerland from India at a young age, and once again (although less) when I moved from Switzerland to Scotland. To me, it seemed like one great border, one ill-defined and blurred border. I continue to feel that edges are porous, that words and problems and people and life blend into each other in a sort of osmosis. Ferranteâ€™s concept of frantumaglia comes to mind: I live, as everyone does, with an ease and unease of half-remembered memories, constantly gathering form, constantly shifting shape.
The Missing Slate, for me, is a collection of frantumaglia. I felt at ease immediately amongst such a diverse group, reading and sharing works by people from all over the world, from all walks of life. But at the same time, the magazine has the ability to disconcert me with the power of the work it publishes: it puts me immediately in a foreign territory. Iâ€™m forced to confront and deeply examine all sorts of relationships: relationships with my immediate family, relationships with the outside world, relationships with the peaceful countryside and the war-torn landscape. Being part of both the Poetry team and the Social Media team means that I see the quality of the work that The Missing Slate accepts and how it works to make that even more refined, sharper, more truthful. This is why I joined The Missing Slate: the magazine never loses its focus on keeping their readers firmly tethered to the reality of the world it lives in, and it sharpens the focus, laser-like, on very specific aspects of our lives.
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