creativewriting · desi · familyhistory · memories · poetry · storytelling

Black Braids

Watching my grandmother comb her hair every morning after her shower was like watching a small ceremony. She would emerge from a hot steamy bathroom, her hair wet and slippery like a black snake draped over her betowelled shoulders. In reverent silence, She would glide towards the terrace with myself close at her heels carrying…… Continue reading Black Braids

memories · Review · Self development

My Grandfather’s Roses and the art of Zen.

If you know me well enough, you will know that the Afghan in me is OBSESSED with roses and rose scented things. In my birth country of Pakistan, Roses arent just a valentines day thing. Roses play a huge part in our weddings, naming ceremonies, funerals and any other milestone you can imagine. Roses are…… Continue reading My Grandfather’s Roses and the art of Zen.