There is a cassette tape in my mother’s kitchen drawer in Tehran, its label written in my grandmother’s hand: Googoosh, 1352, Mehrabad. I have not…
Salamatiran | Thoughts & Commentary
Personal essays, notes, and ideas worth sharing.
There is a cassette tape in my mother’s kitchen drawer in Tehran, its label written in my grandmother’s hand: Googoosh, 1352, Mehrabad. I have not…
There is a particular weight to a handwritten note that no digital message can replicate. It is not nostalgia, exactly. It is the weight of…
My father’s voice changes when he switches from English to Farsi mid-sentence. Not gradually. It happens at a hinge — a word he cannot find…
Adaptation is learning to carry your own tea glass through a new city without spilling. Assimilation is pretending you never liked tea at all. For…
I was standing in my kitchen in a city where no one calls me by my childhood nickname, trying to tell my partner how my…