Over an interval of a month, I finally managed to finish Tom Ford’s Magnum Opus, A Single Man. I don’t know why it took me so long, but at the risk of sounding strange: I was overwhelmed. Each time I would finish a portion of it, I would get caught up and reach for something lighter… Read More A Single Man. A single aesthetic example of perfection
My city has always been a troubled one. I remember, during my childhood, that we always kept our house gates closed at night, travelled with car doors locked and were told not to talk to strangers. I remember back in the early 90s, my grandfather was driving me and my baby sister towards somewhere (sorry… Read More Karachi, what will become of you?
So, my cook is a highly eccentric and goofy man. With a love life that would make Don Juan bow his head in shame (more on that later), he is prone to yelling out religious mantras in the middle of the night and pretending not to hear you as you call out to him from… Read More The fridge and the cook
When we were young, my sister was my baby. I can safely say, nothing much changed over the years. My mother would make me sit, aalti-paalti, and place this little chubby ball with the face of a cabbage-patch doll onto my lap. I could barely sit cross-legged as my legs were too short for such… Read More Being the bride’s sister