“I thought it was normal for people to want to kill themselves. I mean have you never felt like ending it all? Ever?” Layla asked, raising her eyebrows.

Valerie bent her head looking confused, as if flipping the pages of her two-decade long story in her head, looking for an answer.

“No, I don’t think so.” she paused, her eyeballs flipping side to side, as if still searching, then she firmly answered “No.”

As the color of the sky slowly darkened outside and the whispers of the leaves got louder, Layla gave in to nostalgia. Valerie had known Layla since…

“But, it’s so small.” Trev commented.

“That’s what she said.” I thought, well not thought but wanted to say it. One, because I have conditioned myself to say it, two, because Trev appreciates innuendos. We all have a strange sense of humor.

But I don’t say it. Because it isn’t the most appropriate time to make a joke like that. We were talking about a fish who had just become the member of our undocumented family.

Every evening at 7:30 PM, the four of us start mentally preparing for dinner. We take turns cooking curry or pasta, or whatever the…

She is so beautiful. You might argue beauty is subjective, it totally depends on the person’s preferences. I would disagree. She is beautiful, my sister, I mean. Her dark almond eyes rest magnificently under the arched eyebrows. Her nose fits perfectly on her face. Her high cheekbones add dimension to the depth of her iris. But they dissolve as her lips extend showing off her asymmetrical canines. God, I love it when she smiles, especially when she makes ridiculous puns. And her hair! Her hair gracefully kisses her shoulder blades. The clavicle extends to touch the edge of her shoulders…

New York is just. Everything. You would not hate it. Maybe you would. I don’t know for sure.

Here, you’ll see endless motion. People are like insects oscillating in different frequencies. The momentum is inimitable. Time seems to flow and stop simultaneously. I mean together. It is unimaginable.

And the smells. Disgusting. Well, until you pass one of the oldest pizzerias. Or a bakery. Or the fancy buildings. It seems as though those buildings prepare themselves for spectators. You know? Everyday. Every second. They harmonize their asymmetry with the rays of the sunlight and give off the fragrance of dreams…

“Yesterday, I did everything on the task list. I did not feel stressed. I went on the day ticking things off my list. But at the end of the day, I missed stress, you know? I missed the way it made my body feel. I missed feeling guilty. I missed sadness.” I explained to my therapist as I slowly sank in my pillow.

“What did that look like to you?” he asked bending closer to the screen.

“I.. I just. I found myself looking at the sticky notes in my walls. All chores crossed off. I craved stress. I wanted…

Do you remember simpler times? When you spent the entire day playing football or ghar-ghar with your closest ones? Then mamu called you for khaja. All the exhaustion from playing would crumble as you crushed the Chuira in your mouth. It somehow seemed to fill the void. Heck, the void did not even exist then. Do you remember a time when you only worried about exams? (And maybe a few crushes here and there) You had no bills to pay, no kids to take care of, no significant other to please, no diabetes. Only exams. Homework. The last minutes of…

The world is working fine. The market is just fine, schools are running, restaurants are busy, you have good excuses to avoid calls, everyone is complaining. Everything is just fine.

*Enter pandemic (caused by a genetically distinct severe acute respiratory syndrome-related coronavirus (SARS-CoV-2), symptoms first reported in Wuhan, China, in early December 2019)*[1]

The world is not fine. Unemployment has escalated dramatically, the economy is beaten-up, schools, restaurants, salons are shut. 104,882 people have died worldwide. (Reported on 11th April 2020) You are running out of excuses. Everyone is complaining. The world is not fine.

One of the most notable…

I am a broken glass,
With fingerprints on my curves,
And stains on the brink of my existence,
Lipstick stains, I mean.
On rims.

You wouldn’t want to drink from a used cup,
No matter how intoxicating the nectar is.
For it looks like I’ve been held and kissed.
By someone else.
Before you.

But I’ve been thrown simultaneously.
Increasing entropy.
Shattering symmetry.
Diffusing time.
Expanding.
Emptying.

And you wouldn’t drink from a broken glass.
For pieces of me might dissolve in your spirits,
Fermenting it to venom.
Piercing through your esophagus
Slitting your heart.
Expanding surfaces.

But I am…