How can a gesture erase a thousand others are less than the one person insufficient one flawless. The hand’s caress caressing un-draws figures in the sand the cathedrals, erected to capture children playing distant sounds the awe for God, now are now gossamer structures floating on the frothy water The hand holds grains towards the indeterminate
A Palestinian Journey: A Student Discovers New Freedoms
This piece was originally published by Al-Fanar Media on March 18, 2015. Republished with their kind permission. I am a Palestinian student, 20 years old. I was born in Jerusalem, but I have been there only twice. I grew up in the Al-Arroub refugee camp, north of Hebron. Originally, I am from Gaza, but I
Contradiction; On Death, Love and Family Portraits
I am writing this because last week I had to write a letter to the mother of my dead best friend. I am writing this, because it has almost been a year, and I am still trying to process life, and lack thereof, and what it means when 18 year-olds die. I got an email
(The New Arrangement) – Dedicated to D. B.
Like a comb found when unsearched for missing some teeth… Like forced smiles in a nursing home Like a hurt animal trying to save some last moments demarcated by some random feet of space in
Is it possible to hate freedom?: On anti-revolutionary sentiments in Syria
In our liberal age, the notion of freedom is sacred. Arguing the opposite amounts to liberal heresy. The so-called ‘Arab Spring’ as depicted by the media affirms the universal sanctity of freedom. Didn’t “Arabs” sacrifice their lives for freedom’s sake after all? Maybe. The media did not depict the illiberal version of the story. In
A Day at the Café Cinema
It’s a rainy Monday in January. I have just finished my dentist appointment. Still under the influence of mild pain, I take the M1 to Hackescher Markt, one of the most hip areas in Mitte, to do some soul-writing and reflecting on the last year before I meet a friend for what was supposed to
Arrival in Berlin: Ready but not Ready for Freedom
Berlin makes me feel like a small child. Actually, a big child. I look of-age, with my grandpa’s brown leather coat, my light-brown heeled oxfords, my black beanie, black hair, and black eyeliner, but I am completely incapable of being an adult. At least, a European adult. Being in Berlin has made it clear that
Berlinale: Institution or Art
It’s February in Berlin and that means it’s time to go to the movies. With the number of film festivals happening this month, your options for venues are virtually limitless. Whether the attractively dinky Boddinale, the online VELOBerlin, or the respectable Berlin Independent Film Festival, any film buff or curious viewer can get their fill