When The White Man Shot Him

When The White Man Shot Him

Picture Credits: Hassan Talal Tiwana (Twitter @hsntalal_tiwana) When the white man in the dark uniform shot him in the heart, many little things flashed before his eyes, things that were dear to his heart, things that were not things but entire segments that made up...
On Trees

On Trees

If trees could speak, I wonder how much they would have to tell us? I wonder how many humans they would have spoken to, how many weary a traveler that rested under their shade would have emptied out their hearts at the bottom of their lofty barks. I wonder if the...
On Pain

On Pain

Pain has a strange way of healing you. Strange, isn’t it, how the entity that hurts you, heals you. That the very thing that makes you shed tears, wring your hands in despair, curl your toes, and that shoves a ball of barbed wire into your throat for you to...
On Lies

On Lies

The lies we tell ourselves are often a reflection of our innermost cry for help, the one that rarely ever has the chance to become vocal, to escape the crevice of our mouth. If these cries for help were to ever make way outside of ourselves, out into the open, we...
My Grandma Once Said

My Grandma Once Said

One evening, back when the days were longer, the nights were young, and a perpetual rosy scent lingered in the air, back when my grandma was younger, back when my grandma was very much in this world amongst us, my grandma spoke to me over the phone. Her voice crackled...