Raw emotions, pages and pages of it…treated gently, treated wisely. This should feel heavy, with the imagery and the metaphors and the poetry. But it does not.

“A flight of yesterdays.”

Words definitely don’t do justice to the depth of everything i’ve just felt, overwhelming and a bit unnerving.

“To love. All kinds of it.”

Daya (mercy) and Aaftab (sun), their love too much to fit in a divided world.

“Now she wrapped up her dreams.

Now she folded them into a paper plane.

Now she aimed for the wastepaper basket.”

Then there’s Wasim (the brother) and Colin (the friend) and Asha (her mom) and Gyan (her dad).

“A pan of food critics.

A float of dancers.

A clutch of families.

We are all the same. Bones, muscle, souls, blood, shame, hate, joy.

Love.”

Read, it’s beautiful.