I was born a foreigner. I carried on from there to become a foreigner everywhere I went, even in the place planted with my relatives, six-foot tubers sprouting roots, their fingers and faces pushing up new shoots of maize and sugar cane. All kinds of places and groups of people who have an admirable history … Continue reading ‘Minority’ by Imtiaz Dharker
The skin cracks like a pod. There never is enough water. Imagine the drip of it, the small splash, echo in a tin mug, the voice of a kindly god. Sometimes, the sudden rush of fortune. The municipal pipe bursts, silver crashes to the ground and the flow has found a roar of tongues. From … Continue reading ‘Blessing’ by Imtiaz Dharker
There are just not enough Straight lines. That Is the problem. Nothing is flat Or parallel. Beams Balance crookedly on supports Thrust off the vertical. Nails clutch at open seams. The whole structure leans dangerously Towards the miraculous. Into this rough frame, Someone has squeezed A living space And even dared to place These eggs … Continue reading ‘Living space’ by Imtiaz Dharker