Nationality-wise I can make claim to 3 countries, but I’m not sure my heart belongs to any of them.
I don’t miss much from the country I grew up in. I’m only missing the space between the notable events and people.
The people here in the UK are known to have a stiff upper lip;
they hold back on showing their feelings as emotional public displays are discouraged. But why is that dangerous?
A poem for Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe, a British-Iranian woman jailed in Iran. Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson’s comments as well as UK-US impact on Iran in 1953 sealed her fate.
I was using public transport for the first time in weeks, and although deserted, I still encountered people in the same train carriage as me. My beloved London was quiet now, and the absence of people struck all the more with a deep blue sky above me. I was on my way to volunteer in…
Restless and anxious, I come back home. Meaning, I sit back down with my laptop to write you a short story.The days are still dark now in February, one storm after the other blowing through the UK and my mind. Dark days indeed I think, scrolling through twitter: adults attacking a teen climate fighter, hate…
ran into your God rough sleeping yesterday
he said his church had turned into a yoga studio
Brexit is just as messed up, and the world did not go under. Boris Johnson had painted a dystopia in which the public would rise up if another extension was needed. It had to be sorted by today OR…? Whether one is a Remainer or a Brexiteer (because it is impossible at this point to…
It is strange to see my city in uproar Suits replaced by woolen scarfs conscience marked on my very street Next to banks towers and hands Hills and mountains rise up now Shining my way back to my flat Burning through eyelids somehow Grabbing my bag and raising our tent Even closer to your home