Wahid's Words

I am not okay. I'm in free fall. Since Wednesday, nothing has been right. I was given no time, no space to process. Thrown to the wolves that are finals and packing and moving out. For the first time in my life, I don't have the energy to cram all night for finals. For the first time, I am not satisfied with the 15 page paper I cranked out in 4 hours. For the first time, I experience a breakdown, where all my systems fail me and only my bed seems to offer any comfort. Am I even allowed to grieve for this? I was in my room. There was no threat to my safety in reality. But there was in those 3 hours. In those 3 hours, I had to think about the possibility of saying goodbye to this wonderful world, or some equally wonderful person that belongs in this world, to a firearm placed in someone's hand who has no business holding that firearm. It happened. Our school went into lockdown. I feared for the lives of my loved ones. I feared not teasing Baba again, not hugging Maa aga...

At Court "I am the ruler, the supreme being. How dare she cross me? ME!?!? Her flaw, her mortal flaw, is to question my authority in such a time of turmoil. There is a great evil, one that is dawning, and I am the vanguard of justice and redemption in this hopeless world, and she dare try to impede on that authority? This will not rest. That it will not." "Theo darling, everyone knows exactly what their position is when they stand in front of you. If she chooses, if she dares, then she knows that her position is not below you. But that is her folly. You know better, you can convince her to know better. There's no reason to fret. You know Sage is yours to conquer, that she is yours to behead. Nobody will stand in the way of that." "Yes, mast er," says Vy, lounging in a loincloth on a futon placed on top of a pedestal. Vy is a being of few words, fewer action. But when vocalizing, every ounce of every phrase is measured, precise, delivering a mes...

50 years ago on this blessed day, the most incredible embodiment of strength and resilience graced the world with her presence. My mother, who's been a cricket fanatic for all of her life, has finally scored the half-century of life, Masha'Allah. Congrats Mom, YOU'RE 50 YEARS OLD!! A momentous occasion such as this one calls for celebration with the most significant individuals in one's life- which, for my mother, include my dad, my brother, and myself. Unfortunately, both my brother and I are thousands of miles away, and the most that I could do to be "present" during this time is video chat with the parental unit over Viber. Ever since February hit, I've been a mess in my head, and I think it's because with this milestone approaching, the amount that I miss my mom just increases exponentially every day. The relationship that I've had throughout my life with my mother has been incredibly influential in developing myself; she's taught m...

Hey ya'll! A while back, I made this post, that explores, very briefly, the dilemma that exists between conversing from the point of view of a person who has had significant exposure to the myriad of possible identities in the world and bringing this information to conversations with people who have grown up in an ethnically and linguistically homogeneous society. One of the topics I touched on was the idea that fair skin is a precursor to a truly beautiful woman, in the eyes of the everyday Bangladeshi. This paragraph started a conversation between myself and a dear friend. At my urging, she decided to write a response to the post. As a woman of color, this friend is much better equipped and adept at talking about this unique struggle of the vain pursuit of "achieving" beauty —  aka fair-skin. Without more rambling from me, here is this beautifully raw piece of writing. Hopefully you leave understanding her struggle —  as well as the struggle of many Southe...

Imagine me in a program put together for my building, sitting at a desk in front of the elevators, giving instructions to everyone entering that we have candy on the first 4 floors of the building, and they should get a goodie-bag and go Trick-or-Treat with Terrace (my building). Taylor Swift comes on, I'm lip-syncing with my best friends, stopping when new people come in to pester them about the event. Then, Rihanna, and I've abandoned my position at the desk and am dancing in the lobby by myself, letting everyone else take care of instructing the flustered-yet-entertained residents. Now you're probably going, "why am I imagining this? I've already seen this happen in real life. You practically do this all the freaking time it's so annoying I don't want to imagine this scenario any more." Fair. So lets go back to this summer. This same me, this person that's singing and dancing and being boisterous in front of at least hundreds of strang...