Invisible roots
In between replaying my fondest memories and taking short naps on the plane back, I felt my stomach churn at the realisation that I will most probably never feel the same way again. ‘You’ll never be fully Iranian’ – this…
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In between replaying my fondest memories and taking short naps on the plane back, I felt my stomach churn at the realisation that I will most probably never feel the same way again. ‘You’ll never be fully Iranian’ – this…
I often reminisce about sun-drenched afternoons in Palestine when we had the time to sit and share stories. We would walk home at dusk. Our conversations became about hope and expectations as we tried to find our own place in…
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