Wearing a mascara is all fun and games until you have to remove it. Leaving the black caked liquid on my eyelashes is not an option but every time I need to do a cleansing routine, it is as if the day’s worries have descended upon them. In the many weeks that have passed since... Continue Reading →
Feels like Today
I seem to have forgotten how to write about nothing - the great wide expanses of absence. Why must everything be something? Have meaning? Fall into line? Be coherent? I've beaten myself silly about not categorising thoughts inside the margins of my journals because they need to go into an essay, a piece somewhere, a... Continue Reading →
I Wish I Was a Punk Rocker
Sometimes I wish I was the kind of person who would be consistent to the point of boring and follow the Korean skincare routine, finish all the products I had flown in all the way from South Korea, and be predictable to myself. I wish that I was the kind of person who would leave... Continue Reading →
Homecoming
The sun had just set. I knew because I heard the call to the maghrib prayer. It was still a long time before it would become dark, though. He was walking me home. We passed by a local restaurant we used to frequent during college. I pointed towards it, and we laughed. We spoke about... Continue Reading →
Tale as Old as Time
I saw Beauty and the Beast and I'll say this as quickly as possible - I didn't like it all that much. Then, I went back and saw the original animated movie. And I'll say it again, very quickly - I didn't like that so much, too. So, I finally decided that this fairy tale... Continue Reading →
Scars To Your Beautiful
While I love my Chanel perfume as much as the next girl, I think nothing beats the smell of a freshly baked sweet dish, specially one that has vanilla essence. When I took out the tray of bread and banana pudding today, the house was filled with a mirth that one could touch in the... Continue Reading →
Comes and Goes (In Waves)
Earlier this year, I read Things I Don't Want to Know by Deborah Levy. It's a first person narrative of the South African writer and her answer to George Orwell's essay, "Why I Write". At the time, I was also reading another book in which there is an Egyptian character who is a paying guest... Continue Reading →
Cross That Line
Have you experienced something so beautiful that it made you cry? I have.