My bhabi scoops out each beard / Till my brother screams in pain / She is terrified if someone / Finds her husband's name!
Look at yourself, name this beast! / In the heart of a divided nation / Can you at least bury me?
A pantoum poem
I don’t know / What sorrow could have / Made their heart so heavy / That the light was sucked / Out of their eyes
"My religion doesn’t fit your colour scheme."
For every attack that tortured my soul, I won't say quiet, not anymore.
'No more over-sweetened tea with friends, or waiting to get a coffee and hoping the machine actually works this time.'
'Now that it is over, you say, we must know how good it was'