We are waiting for Ramadan to begin. Sprawled across the living living carpet after Maghrib namaz, my brother and I are not very old but not very young either. We are definitely…
Browsing Tag
reflections
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He leans the entire length of his body against a geometric garden carved into the standing oak panel. At three feet high, it is still one foot taller than him. You watch…
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I examine the notebook first. It’s more of a journal really, with thick pages and a substantial binding. In a moment of indulgent up-selling, I had agreed for my initials to be …
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Years ago, in the dusky Maghrib light, I sat upon my prayer mat and let myself feel the loss of shifting friendships and the empty space of my own widening perspectives. In…
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Boaba’ my paternal grandmother, is a loud, ‘like it or lump it’ kind of woman. While other elders wear somber pherans of various mothy hues, her signature pheran is a loud turquoise…
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My Dearest Ramadan, I write to you in the stillness of the night. In the quiet darkness that eluded you and I for so many years. I with my babies and…
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Sometime between the crisp promise of September and the bare leaves of November, just as the seasons changed in the way they always do, I changed too. I can’t say for certain…
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The first time I heard them was as a newlywed. We were meant to be stepping out for a small gathering in our honour and as a new bride, I was more…
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There is a light in my existence, a comfort I have known, from the earliest moments I could remember till this very day. A comfort I have craved, leaned upon and…
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I sit in the local cafe: my flat white just arrived and my 7-week old nursing peacefully as I try to peruse the morning papers. The kids are back at school and…