Amid the search for a faraway and foreign future, the character “I” in Himas Nur’s story realizes that they have been living and breathing the warmth of their future thus far—the future through the embrace of their friends.
An old, retired domestic worker and her husband watches the graduation ceremony of their daughter with pride. In this parallel reality, domestic workers have the same rights, opportunities, and welfare as the rest of us.
Under a big orange tree, two little girls talk about oranges and how the indigenous people will get their land back. Do you want an orange from their three? I mean, tree?
As you sift rice with a mind in constant questioning about your liberation from oppression, the smile of your peers make you realise that your fight is worth it nonetheless.
In post-revolution and post-climate crisis Southeast Asia, Samudra routinely makes voice recordings for their father on their birthday. Now, Samudra talks about their longing for their father, giving him updates on their beloved home at Number Three Kolepang Street.
No longer wearing a hijab, Dina wants to change her picture on her ID card. Worries occupy her head when she has to face the state apparatuses, who have long been thought to be cold and judgemental.
Raising a toddler, pursuing a career of scientific innovation, and being active in social communities seem like a series of impossible demands for one woman. But in Inez’s work, all of these roles weave into each other seamlessly as we visit a food-sovereign community with no gender discrimination.
After her first heartbreak, K wonders if it was still possible for queer people to find and share love in this country.