When I was 11 my mother moved us to Jordan for a year, where she enrolled me in private school and allowed my teachers to fail me as long as they also helped me learn to read and write in Arabic. She spent every spare moment trying to enrich my experience in a place I… Continue reading On interrupting
Tag: memories
On remembering
My memories are the heat of your body, My memories are the animal breathing of the night we drove hours to meet somewhere in the middle. My memories are like secrets that every lover knows
on shame
I lose all motivation to better myself,because i have turned away from the bombs and sieges on the news.i live in comparison, a contrast of my own experiences. traipsing casually through the poverty and diligence of indiabuys me a mere 18 months of gratitude, of real hard work,of trying for myself in a way i… Continue reading on shame
on aging
I fear for my memories of the indian ocean, drying and curling at the edges like the yellowed pages of my favorite book. i fear the helpless sag of the skin around my smile,and, with something to lose, i lie awake marinading in terrorover mental atrocities likewhat to do to accept your mother’s mortality,how to… Continue reading on aging
