“So I’m sleeping with her now.” Let’s stop and analyze that for a minute, shall we? “So…” – we’re talking and you’re changing gears, shifting my attention to a new point of focus, but quickly – too quick to be nonchalant – too quick for my ears and eyes and heart to perk up, too… Continue reading Letter to a Lover
Was. Because she’s dead now. Murdered, now. Because you killed her. Can I go so far as to say we killed her? It’s a bit risky. I’ve got a family that loves me, and God knows it’s only too easy to get killed in this country. Wink, wink. Oh Lord, I’m disgusting. Did I just… Continue reading Who the hell is #QandeelBaloch?
“It’s about recreating the experience of being in the dark.” I’m too demanding. I am a child. I am petulant, and arrogant, and spoiled and selfish. These are bad things. Okay, okay. So let’s backtrack. I can do this. I can be kinder, more accommodating, more forgiving. It’s okay, I understand, I need to be… Continue reading The Dark
Today, my thoughts turn to my mother. Today, my thoughts turn to the woman I spent my teens trying to fight. She just didn’t get it. She disapproved of my friends. She forced me to keep my bedroom door open, to lower the volume when I was listening to music, and watched all the TV… Continue reading Of A Mother
But what happens after the first smile – when you’ve got your footing, when you’ve wiped off the red lipstick and made the memories? What about when you’re in the thick of the story, Chapter 15 and three quarters, sunk cost down, going a million miles an hour? What about landing that goddamn plane?
Who helped me struggle onto my chubby toddler feet. Who helped me spell out my first big word (dinosaur). Who helped me learn to tell time, even though every other kid in the class magically seemed to already know this. Who heard me whine and complain about training bras. Who saw my sometimes snotty-faced pre-teen… Continue reading Thank you God, for the Women
Almost-adult (meaning you basically need to get your life together by now) woman moved to New York City with more baggage than socially acceptable (do you really need three checked bags?) and a passion for lights and traffic and noise. Said young woman sets out to explore the urban jungle, and is hit with some… Continue reading 6 “Not Pakistani” Things People Know in #NewYorkCity
They say you shouldn’t use the word hate, because it’s very strong. It makes you look nasty, and mean-spirited. Well guess what? Sometimes, I hate this interconnected online world. I hate the way my Gmail is linked to my Facebook and my cell contacts are synced with everyone I know on Twitter, and Pinterest and… Continue reading You Have One New Notification
Guess what. Most days, neither do I. The way my thighs jiggle when I run, and the “wholesome” curve of my fat arms. You don’t like my body. I don’t like myself. Just another fat girl. The chubby friend. The girl who is fun, and interesting and creative, but c’mon, you’d never date her. I… Continue reading Oh, You Don’t Like My Body?
I’m at that point in my life (by which I mean my early twenties) where everyone around me (literally everyone) is either getting married or about to. Whether it’s engagements or at-home Nikah (Muslim marriage contract) signing ceremonies, I’m losing single friends faster than I imagined. I’ve got two weddings to attend this week, and… Continue reading Young Woman, You ARE Marriage Material