I was in Lahore last November. If I close my eyes now to relive some of the city’s glory, I wouldn’t know where to start. What do I remember? What do I smell? What do I taste? What do I miss? For me, as an immigrant, that is probably the single most difficult question. ‘What … More And I keep coming back to you, Lahore.
“Don’t disrespect my taste buds with this!”, the eighty-five year old Layla shoved her blue rimmed dinner plate. The mole on the right corner of her lips danced as she grimaced at her customised menu. Layla’s personal cook/maid cooked for her. He previously worked at a prison and never relinquished the chance to squeeze in an anecdote or two. Layla … More Short Story: Layla’s Magic Powder
“Oh, in our times, life was so wonderfully simple, without any stress…”, or so exclaim many of our parents, their grandparents and well, keep going back as long as you feel like – this statement will only show minute nuances of variation! At the other end of the spectrum the situation is no different … More when it was oh-so perfect…
Nida Khan Writes 