Abstract

He wants to invent a home where borders blur into surrounding prairie, river, anatomical maps. He wants to live in many places at once, but preferably in one place. He is tunneling through a past that is coded in other organs which refuse to speak. If they speak, they speakbackwards and he refuses to arrange. At the Wagha border is both sanity and madness. Home emerges from simultaneous pasts intersecting and creating homes that never were, but here in this space, it is possible to build another home every morning: to unimagine the border that is locked now. When Amritsar and Lahore were simply signs; the wrought iron gate and a parade were seething tension underground, in the marble floored room of an Englishman. Within the body is coded meaning, the flight of bats:

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