I see a wall as tantamount to rejection: to create a physical barrier is to reject the possibility of familiarity.
This was not the information I was looking for. This was not the truth I wanted.
A new period in my life started when Abu could no longer fast for Ramadan.
Before I visited the Partition Museum, I had a sense that all the years of self-erasure could be undone if I just heard, watched, read enough. Now I’m beginning to rethink that strategy.
“I realized I had to change or I was going to lose you,” my mother told me. “So I did.”
My father was missing. How could I put him back in the picture?
When my grandfather threatened to kill himself, I began to wonder if, as he sees it, he has effectively stopped living.
When fighting on behalf of the father you love, who do you become?