Pakistan

The Haircut

Though they would probably never admit to agreeing on anything if they were to meet, the Hindu fascist in New Delhi and the diasporic Muslim in Baltimore had made the same assumption.

Me Today Primary category in which blog post is published

The man-who-sells-birds-on-the-corner-of-the-street and I had an argument

Eventually, he released all of the birds, and I bought him a cup of tea.

My Dictator: General Zia

A piece of fruit killing that guy seems cosmically right.

I felt a familiar numbness settle over me

Living in Pakistan has taught me that political change is not as sexy or dramatic as I had envisioned it as a teenager in suburban Dallas.

Winter Light in Lahore

In winter the noise of the Lahore streets sounds different. It is clean and vivid.

My Airport: Karachi

There’s just a handful of airlines that still make it to Pakistan, so even the wealthiest of Jinnah International’s patrons have limited options.

Me Today Primary category in which blog post is published

I moved back and forth between this life and that life

Caught constantly between my open wounds pressed against sharp edges and my peeling skin, and her open wounds pressed against sharp edges and her peeling skin.

Jennalee

It didn’t just happen overnight, the neat, sarcastic packaging of my childhood misfortunes.

Invisible Residents

Death and life in Dubai’s vegetable market.