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.
Eventually, he released all of the birds, and I bought him a cup of tea.
A piece of fruit killing that guy seems cosmically right.
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.
In winter the noise of the Lahore streets sounds different. It is clean and vivid.
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.
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.
It didn’t just happen overnight, the neat, sarcastic packaging of my childhood misfortunes.
Death and life in Dubai’s vegetable market.