Analects …

a collection of short literary or philosophical extracts

Not all ideas fit neatly into the pages of a book. When I see, hear or read something that moves me—a news story, a snippet of conversation, a musical phrase, a storyline or cityscape—I capture the thoughts it provokes by jotting them down. From art and sports—whether Wimbledon or the World Cup—to politics, love and war, all topics have the potential to spark my imagination.

 

Taxiing Out of Ayia Napa

Taxiing Out of Ayia Napa

The scene—a warm, sunny summer Sunday afternoon, amid a chorus of homespun English accents—could have been anywhere on the coast of Cornwall or Devon. But it wasn’t. This narrow strip of ochre sand...

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The Trouble with Chris

The Trouble with Chris

Last week, as I spring-cleaned, I came across an essay written by my son Chris. It began: “My dad was the only dad who drove my brother and me to school every day from grades 1 to 12. He took so...

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Never Ask Mum

Never Ask Mum

It was a mistake. Coming home one evening, I slumped into an armchair beside Mum. “Can’t go on this way. I’m so depressed. No-one at work likes me. I’m failing all my exams. How can I become an...

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What Brings You Joy?

What Brings You Joy?

Since his retirement several years ago, my client John and I meet every time he’s back in town. His greeting is always the same. “Oh! I have a whole bunch of bills to pay.” “John, they’re all for...

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Eye on the Prize

Eye on the Prize

On a glorious summer’s day, my quintessential London isn’t the tawdry brazenness of Piccadilly, nor the arch-celebration-of-invincibility, Trafalgar Square. It lies in the environs of Green Park...

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Last Train to Santa Margherita Ligure

Last Train to Santa Margherita Ligure

Lou’s best friend once told him “You’re lucky your father was born before you.” Over decades, his family had accumulated a number of rinky-dink 12-suiters across Calgary. In his mid-twenties, with...

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At the End o’ Me Tether

At the End o’ Me Tether

Lulu was Flo’s mum. Flo was my English foster mum. Attending North Town Primary School—a fifteen-minute walk from home—I dropped in every Friday afternoon, to visit Lulu from the age of five to...

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Facing Down the Tiger

Facing Down the Tiger

Perhaps it wasn’t my home, but Hong Kong sure felt like it. From the age of twelve, I was showered with free airline tickets by my father, an employee of East African Airways. Although rich in...

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Bridge Over Troubled Water

After emigrating to Canada forty-three years ago and being away from my Muslim community ever since, I received a call from them. ”We are trying to bridge the gap between our business community and...

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Nations Apart

“Pops, can we go visit Italy this summer? I have a social studies course on it next September.” How could I refuse? “Lex, if you want to understand a country better, you should compare it to another...

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Emil Rem Writes Headshot

Emil Rem, an eccentric accountant becomes a writer of eccentric characters, in exotic locales—each chapter taking us on a trip into his fascinating twisted world. Born to a close knit, middle class Muslim East Indian family in Dar-es-Salam, Africa in the 50’s, he is then moved to Maidenhead England at the age of five. The next twenty years are spent shuttling between England and East Africa, wearing a St. Christopher’s cross one minute and attending church, to wearing a green armband and attending Muslim religious classes in Africa the next. Moving to Canada, marrying a woman from the Philippines and having two boys only adds further texture to his stories.

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