Natasha G

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A Brief History o...
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The Way Things Were
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The Pakistan Para...
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“How did I acquire those habits? Perhaps that's what happens during he forging of a relationship: if nothing else, you adopt some of the other person's habits. It makes you feel those adoptions, make him one of you.

Have you picked up habits from me? Do you draw circles with a finger on your thali when you have finished eating? Do you, every once in a while, squeeze shaving cream on to your toothbrush? DO you sleep with a knee drawn up to you, the bedclothes kicked away? Do you fold the newspaper neatly and put it where you found it, when you are done?

Yesterday, when a cobalt blue smudge of wall ended up on my hand, I wiped on my trouser without thinking.”
Sachin Kundalkar, Cobalt Blue

Ijeoma Umebinyuo
“this body has carried herself into days so bitter all gods wept. Yet, I am still here and I will always be here.”
Ijeoma Umebinyuo, Questions for Ada

“I didn't like Dali: now, like you, I do. Like you, I began to drink my Coke with a pinch of salt . Like you, I stopped bothering about ironed clothes. Like you, I sit with a dictionary while reading the papers. Like you, I sit on the compound wall after a bath.”
Sachin Kundalkar, Cobalt Blue

“I have started to feel that the friends you make in school, the ones you've known forever, begin to turn into fossils. They merge into their families, losing all identity.You don't know the new ones as much as you should. They can fool you.”
Sachin Kundalkar, Cobalt Blue

Ijeoma Umebinyuo
“you desecrated the shrines of our fathers
you pushed our tongue, stole our culture
paraded your wickedness as my savior
you refused the right to let me own my narrative
you butchered our names
you brought war on our land
you call my people "savages"
you stole our histories
and wear them proudly in your museums
you wash away our achievements
you carry it as yours
you "discovered" what was already mine
you plant puppets, assassinating our leaders
you desecrated the shrines of my mothers
when we worshipped nature, you laughed at us
now, you want to carry our ways, learn from us
we refuse to write softness into our stories
for you to feel comfortable
we refuse to let anyone but us own our
narrative
we refuse to believe your lies again

you will not spit in the face of our fathers
and think his children will now sit quietly.”
Ijeoma Umebinyuo, Questions for Ada

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