: About Me

Red Earth and Pouring Rain The early morning sun makes its way through every nook and cranny of the house and it makes a small pool on the floor. The dust rises slowly and begins heading towards the calling of the rays. The mullah chants Allah ho Akbar into the microphone and the finches scatter from around the mosque. They return when everything turns quiet, till the next call reverberates through the loud speaker. Closer to home, the newspaper boy cycles down the street and flings the morning daily across the street, past the gates, and into the house. The summer heat has engulfed the wh...