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Carcass on display
This piece is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. She was backstage, about to start her show depicting her ideas to the audience. To benefit...
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Beauty
“What is beauty, father?” “What do you think?” “I don’t know. I look at this glass in front of us and my eyes spot the reflected light from the glass on the table, and I’m baffled by these patterns,...
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You
In the centre of a wave of silence, where I sit inside a shed, You are the tools that I have used to build this home. When people debate about You, You sneak into the smile that travels across my face....
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Series 1: “Dreams of Lunacy” Part 1 Dreams
“Father, what do we live for?” “What do you mean?” “You came, you built a family, and now all that remains of you are pictures throughout the house, and memories scattered throughout your family and...
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Series 1: “Dreams of Lunacy” Part 2 Death
“Ghaffar, do you know that this is a dream? Only my ideas are real, the rest of all of this,” pointing to the room, the fireplace, the walls, and a recent family picture “is just an illusion.” “Yes...
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Series 1: “Dreams of Lunacy” Part 3 The rich
Zameer opens his door, which is covered with dust, cow dung, and drawings done by a chalk. As he enters his nine-year-old son, Hassan, spots him and runs towards him and holds him tightly. Zameer...
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Series 1: “Dreams of Lunacy” Part 4 Identity
“I’m going for a sleepover at Salman’s house.” “What?” “Sleepover, ammi.” “Now? At mid-night?” she exclaimed. “Jee, everyone is getting together right now, please, midterms just ended today.” “Okay,...
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Series 1: “Dreams of Lunacy” Part 5 Stroke of darkness
He sits with his feet on top of each other, touching the skin just behind the nails where the tips of his fingers feel the small hairs that have recently grown out of nowhere. He rests his head on the...
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Series 1: “Dreams of Lunacy” Part 6 Humans
Ghaffar was at a restaurant with friends. The food had been devoured, and everyone was awaiting their cars. Somehow he casually looked at his feet and saw a torn piece of paper floating in a puddle...
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A Pakistani boy conversing with Grief
“When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.” – Kahlil Gibran “Hi! It’s good to finally meet you.” Grief...
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Another conversation with Grief
“They speak of humanity, my humanity is in feeling we are all voices of the same poverty.” – Jorge Luis Borges, Boast of quietness “Can I interrupt?” the boy asked, and without waiting, he said, “I...
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Rocks and ambulances
“Couldn’t we have gone to a better mechanic, gotten a new and reliable battery, so this wouldn’t have happened?” “I don’t know. This is not the first time this has happened, anyway.” “What? How can you...
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Familiar handcuffs
He could hardly hear him – his words did not even brush his shoulders as they hurried past. His eyes were feeling extremely heavy, not because of sleep or weariness, but because of its on-going...
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The newspaper boy
He threw it inside the house and as he cycled forward and heard it land softly on the doormat. Great shot, he thought. There were three streets to go. And the light around him was slowly spreading. He...
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His shoes disgusted me
I was in the bus sitting next to him, trying hard to look away. I had never seen them so close – so broken before. Generally, the stitches were patterned, the shine was bright, and even when it was...
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The words not spoken
He had slept without removing his shoes. His parents watched him as they stood in the doorway. They smiled, went towards him and took off his shoes, one by one, gently, as if each had a life of its...
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Light lunchboxes
His daughter knocked on his door; only once. It was time for work and her school. He got up, stretching here and there, listening as individual muscles came out of slumber. After he was ready, he...
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An open palm
“Are you alright?” “Just had the same nightmare.” His wife shook her head. “Why don’t you see a doctor? I’ve told you a hundred times.” This time he slowly shook his head, “A doctor can’t help with...
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Equidistant dots
He picked up his notebook, and he saw that it was filled with equidistant dots, page after page. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ....
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Conversations and resistance
When does a leaf change colour? Is it in the middle of a night? Or in the day when no one’s looking? Is it when the wind gives it wings? Or when it’s completely still? When the new one arrives, a...
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