https://titikusumandari.journoportfolio.comRSS Feed for Titi Kusumandari's playgroundenSat, 30 May 2026 00:00:00 +0100https://inshortjournal.com/titi-kusumandari/Add a sunny side up, let the yolk run like it’s late for work.Sat, 30 May 2026 00:00:00 +0100https://inshortjournal.com/titi-kusumandari/https://www.southfloridapoetryjournal.com/flash-41-may-26.htmlOld people slip and die, my daughters say. Old people sleep and die; old people walk and die, I say. In the end, everyone dies.Sat, 02 May 2026 00:00:00 +0100https://www.southfloridapoetryjournal.com/flash-41-may-26.htmlhttps://www.fiveminutelit.com/five-minutes/my-daughterShe massaged my scalp and started talking immediately. Asked if I’m a mother. (I’m not). Asked what I do for work. (I don’t).Mon, 27 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0100https://www.fiveminutelit.com/five-minutes/my-daughterhttps://jmwwblog.wordpress.com/2026/04/22/fiction-the-family-we-choose-by-titi-kusumandari/My name is Sri, but my customer service name was Shirley. “More familiar,” they told me. Her name was Sianne, but her real name, she said, was too hard to pronounce. “It’s not worth trying.” At work, they called us the Asian duo. It didn’t matter that we came from different corners of the continent; we were the only two in the building. Sianne used to take me to the Asian shop in town, through the pickled-vegetable aisles, telling me the ways she’d cook them. In exchange, I took us to the...Wed, 22 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0100https://jmwwblog.wordpress.com/2026/04/22/fiction-the-family-we-choose-by-titi-kusumandari/https://www.defenestrationmag.net/2026/04/friendship-in-the-era-of-lice-ridden-dictators-by-titi-kusumandari/All my friends have kids. Their friends have kids. Everyone has kids. Together, they meet and form a sticky kindergarten.Thu, 02 Apr 2026 00:00:00 +0100https://www.defenestrationmag.net/2026/04/friendship-in-the-era-of-lice-ridden-dictators-by-titi-kusumandari/https://www.pratajournal.com/re-i-hope-this-email-finds-you-well-by-titi-kusumandari“I hope this email finds you well,” you type, seemingly in carbon copies, echoing the many emails you’ve received in life. You pause, fingers over the letters: how can an email “find” you? Does it search? Does it knock? Does it find you well?Thu, 20 Nov 2025 00:00:00 +0000https://www.pratajournal.com/re-i-hope-this-email-finds-you-well-by-titi-kusumandarihttps://fiftywordstories.com/2025/10/13/titi-kusumandari-two-portions-of-fried-rice-please/Across his shoulder pole hung rice, eggs, condiments, and a stove. He’d stop beneath our student windows to sauté some garlic, to let its scent slip inside the rooms.Mon, 13 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0100https://fiftywordstories.com/2025/10/13/titi-kusumandari-two-portions-of-fried-rice-please/https://chestnutreview.com/titi-kusumandari-how-was-your-week/I didn’t know who was who, only that one acted as the Alpha. I wasn’t devout enough to care, not defiant enough to scoff. I mouthed the prayers I never learned, and the Alpha looked back indifferently.Wed, 10 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0100https://chestnutreview.com/titi-kusumandari-how-was-your-week/https://pandanweekly.substack.com/p/three-missing-bananas-titi-kusumandariThe story began as a memory fragment—a kitchen, a banana, and a strange emptiness. It grew into a story about grief that lingers, disguised in everyday life. I wanted to honour the small, tender moments that often go unspoken in many Southeast Asian households—moments that carry depth without needing to be named. First published in Pandan Weekly in August 2025.Wed, 20 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0100https://pandanweekly.substack.com/p/three-missing-bananas-titi-kusumandarihttps://lost-balloon.com/2025/07/09/wins-i-can-afford-titi-kusumandari/He slapped me three plastic bullets and a gun. “Aim at the prize,” a toothpick danced between his lips as he spoke. I took the gun and aimed at the sheep doll across the counter.Wed, 09 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0100https://lost-balloon.com/2025/07/09/wins-i-can-afford-titi-kusumandari/https://anodynemag.com/product/anodyne-magazine-vol-6/I smiled at the sight of the toilet. Who knew. This sitting. This journey. The highlight of my century.Wed, 02 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0100https://anodynemag.com/product/anodyne-magazine-vol-6/https://porch-litmag.com/not-today-cat/by Titi Kusumandari Mother planted a papaya when Anak died. I was seven. She sliced the fruit open, set the seeds aside and dried them under the sun. We buried Anak in the backyard and ate the fruit on the dining table. The next morning, we planted the seeds where we had buried it, next to Father’s red ashoka tree. Do you want another cat? Mother asked. No, I told her. Once is enough. She looked at my watery eye but held her tongue. She did not speak of the father I never knew. Nor of her parent...Mon, 12 May 2025 00:00:00 +0100https://porch-litmag.com/not-today-cat/https://www.insideindonesia.org/archive/articles/essay-hey-holland-you-re-welcomeIndonesia’s independence from the Dutch came at a price – Indonesians are still waiting for them to acknowledge itWed, 06 Apr 2022 00:00:00 +0100https://www.insideindonesia.org/archive/articles/essay-hey-holland-you-re-welcomehttps://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2013/09/14/our-society-vs-vicky-unusual-language-controversy.htmlMarrying English terms with 'intellectual' words into odd and unfit sentences, Vicky Prasetyo became a one hit wonder that flooded my digital timeline.Sat, 14 Sep 2013 00:00:00 +0100https://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2013/09/14/our-society-vs-vicky-unusual-language-controversy.htmlhttps://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2009/12/23/black-pete-not-a-usual-xmas-story.htmlWith the onset of Christmas, those who celebrate it are getting into the festive season with Christmas songs and decorationsWed, 23 Dec 2009 00:00:00 +0000https://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2009/12/23/black-pete-not-a-usual-xmas-story.htmlhttps://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2009/09/12/food-an-illustration-culture.htmlMostly ignored and overlooked as an element of culture, food is often seen merely as something to fill the belly with In a classic Betawi song by Benyamin Sueb, titled "Ape Kabar?" (How are you?) Benyamin asks a friend living abroad how it feels to live far from home. "You must've eaten cheese every day, and forgotten the taste of terasi *shrimp paste*," he sings with Ida Royani. From this song, we can guess that the perceptions Benyamin and Ida shared about living i...Sat, 12 Sep 2009 00:00:00 +0100https://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2009/09/12/food-an-illustration-culture.html