I amLike the earthParchedWaiting for rainTo restore lifeTo release petrichor,That smell of earthDrunk on water drops. I amLike the earthParchedWaiting for youTo restore lifeTo release meSo I can get drunk againOn the words from your lips.
There should be a placeFor sunken shipsFor lost thingsFor wounded hearts There should be a placeFor restoring the sunkenFor finding the lostFor healing the wounded There should be a placeFor things discarded too easilyWeightless, unwanted thingsPackages labelled FragileLeft unclaimed in lost luggage departmentsof Countries visited on a whim.
1. Take a selfie. Nothing like some good, old narcissism to get the creative juices going. 2. Take your puppy for her third walk of the day and then wonder why she keeps lying in the grass, refusing to budge. 3. Spread the pages of your first draft around because sorting through it all shouldContinue reading “Tips on Wasting Time when you’re supposed to be Writing”
Last time I had my nose pierced, I was eighteen, living in residence at Kinnaird College, Lahore, and a bunch of us decided that having an extra hole in the nose was a great idea, and so we trotted off to Liberty market and had the piercing done. I don’t remember the actual piercing. DidContinue reading “Of Nose Pins and Reading Glasses”
This is eight-year-old Zainab who was found in a rubbish dump on Tuesday, 9th of January 2018. She was raped and strangled in Kasur, Pakistan. http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-42637027 I have been seeing Zainab’s picture all over the internet. Each time I see this picture, I think, she’s so young. And so today I went through my picturesContinue reading “Me too”
It’s been a month since the release of my book, and I find myself constantly promoting the book by whatever means I can think of, including social media. I do this, not just for selfish reasons, though I will admit to those, but because my publishing house, Mawenzi House publishes diverse voices. Publishing is aContinue reading “On Why I Shamelessly Promote My Book”
Another day of senseless violence; twenty-six people dead in a church in Texas, just a few days after eight were mowed down in Manhattan, a month after fifty-eight were killed when a gunman opened fire during a concert in Las Vegas. The number killed varies, as do the locations, but the way most people reactContinue reading “Stringent Measures”
People look at me and assume that Urdu is my mother tongue. It is not. It is my grandmother tongue. It is the language I used to communicate with both my Nani and my Dadi. Both tried to improve my command of their mother tongue. Both failed. I am a dim wit. My NaniContinue reading “Urdu: My Grandmother Tongue”
Three years back my daughter teamed up with a mentor and collected items for the Humane Society. She decided that we should adopt a cat. I wasn’t too enthusiastic. I knew who would end up looking after this family pet. The four of us went down to the closest Humane Society, but it was ZaraContinue reading “Lessons in Grief”
In the fall of 2017, Mawenzi House will publish my short story collection. Two years back, I quit my part-time job to focus on writing full time, and have since then, received so many rejections that I have lost count. As bizarre it may sound, I, now, take heart from the improved quality of theContinue reading “Things She Could Never Have”