Scenes of Abu Dhabi, UAE during the current COVID-19 pandemic.
at the mouth
of mina zayed, oozing
My Amma’s Malayalam is Trivandrum slang,
shifting between simple
churidar and formal sari in a blink.
sliced onions fried with miris and sugar
spotted with chili seeds
creating fire within my tummy
the spicy seeni sambol wrapped in
soft crunchy appa remind
my taste buds that they are alive
They say it doesn’t rain in Abu Dhabi, but this is a lie. Something’s always leaking…
The time is somewhere between jaunty April and the gloved-hands of November in 1867. You are a wide-eyed visitor at the Exposition Universelle in Paris, the most elaborate fair the world has ever seen, in a city where both human and physical geography is growing and diversifying seemingly overnight…
From the beginning, my relationship with the island was clear: it was my home. Still portraits of its paved yard, the dank corridor leading up to the gym, the revolving main door with black brush along the bottom edge — all of them are still vivid in my head, permanently lodged in my memories…