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Bride Of Buried Dignity
There comes the small will of desire in pride With the pain of generational trauma as a bride The bride to a country of unlivables, buried underneath Of dignity that snatches women’s lives? died Continue reading
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Heaven Was Mandatory
“An essay and presentation due Friday, you choose the topic.” It took less than a minute, and all of a sudden I recall the dear a country ruled by thieves; kleptocracy and kakistocracy -government by the worst, and a system built on the rountin violation of human rights in my country. How can such a… Continue reading
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Before The Blink…
Day by day passes, it all will ¨feel like a blink of an eye, ¨ they say. I like to hold onto my daily thoughts, sometimes writing them down on a sheet of paper, hoping they won’t disappear until the day when the blink happens, when Im no longer who I am right now. Maybe… Continue reading
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The night of November 27th
It’s November 26th at 11:27 pm when we first hear about the tragic attempted murder of a Taliban member immigrant to two of the U.S’s national guards. News like this feels heavier than headlines, especially for those of us whose identities are already fragile in public perception. It was already the situation where immigrants are in… Continue reading
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Phone call
…My phone rang… It was two of my dad side aunts behind the phone, people I hadn’t seen in five years now. It felt like they were placed in my subconscious. I could tell I knew them, but a feeling kept me from truly knowing them. I couldn’t hardly understand their accent. Their deep accent… Continue reading
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Our Symposium
was a symposium on the Hazara genocide and exile taking place in Philadelphia at Handford College. According to my traveling experience in America, it wasn’t that long, 3 hours from where we are, and if I could turn back time, I would have joined as many times as possible, but this time with more sleep.… Continue reading
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Every little counts…
It has been 5 years since I’ve been out of Afghanistan. Since the country is in civil tensions within itself, the only thing that provides a sense of belonging is my culture, Hazara culture. Yet I don’t know it well enough to know how to embrace it. Born and raised in Kabul, neither my city… Continue reading
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Journal books
Last year my freshman year, my creative writing class teacher would tell us to keep a little journal with us and write it down when something interesting happened or we had any sudden ideas that we might forget later on the day. I did mine as assigned, maybe sometimes rushing through when she was checking… Continue reading
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I met many women with long stories and often the same end.
I have met many women with long and complex stories, often leading to similar conclusions. My favorite actor, Bahram Afshari, once said, “Nothing ends badly; if it does, it hasn’t ended.” While I appreciate his perspective, I often find myself questioning it. In my brief life experience, I’ve noticed that many women I’ve encountered possess… Continue reading
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“…I’ve been away from home for 5 years now…”
“Liar-“ I learned about calling your country home in history class when many cartoons showed the US worrying more about civilizing other countries than “home”. Now it appears to me that I’ve never called my country home before this, but I missed our house where we lived in Afghanistan. Would that make me a patriot?… Continue reading
Unsaid 