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Prashanti Chunduri (she/her) is a self-proclaimed aesthete, word-painter and armchair globetrotter. Besides reading and writing (speculative) fiction and poetry by day and contemplating the inexplicability of human order by night, she spends her time immersed in Korean music, dramas and movies, and makes art when the mood strikes. She sometimes writes as @alucinor.
It was not a question of whether she wanted to be here; it was that she needed to be. It was a question she had asked herself a million times before, and she’d wound up with the same answer each time. This was what she had to do to survive.
"If something goes wrong, at least I will have tried my best, and I’ll learn to live with it. But I can’t live with the regret of not knowing if things might have been better.”
Like Adira, my father had a knack for being blunt. But unlike her, his words usually hurt more than they invigorated or showed support.
Mom tells stories about how, when I was a baby, she was perpetually afraid that I would fall from whichever high surface I’d clambered up. It was as though I was always reaching up.
"There is nothing more precious than laughter,” I told them. “But there’s also nothing more expensive, or more difficult to find."
Surprisingly, more than half the qualifiers were women. They tended to excel most at negotiation and strategy, mental prowess and survival instincts, in addition to their chosen subjects.
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