Are you are sitting there wondering what the above image is about? Its a section for women in the court marriage application form in Dubai. This has not been completely verified as I have yet to see the full document but this was tweeted by @youseftuqan this week and it kind of puts everything in

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The last day of the year; not even the whole day, just a few of the last twelve hours. It is, after all, the season for doing jigsaws.   The frost is still on the ground as we walk through the woods to the river, our breath coming in cold puffs, steaming out in front

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The two minutes silence begins. Some of the people in the room stand, but I sit, head bowed, in a pose of solemn remembrance. But all I can think of is the moment I crushed your little paper poppy when we hugged, and the feeling you are somehow as lost to me as the fallen

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A massive earthquake has hit Pakistan yesterday morning in the Ziarat region, 60 km to the north east of Quetta. According to eyewitness reports entire villages have been flattened as the initial shocks were 6.4 on the Richter scale and after shocks around 6.2 and 6.1 which were felt in the afternoon in the same

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I am picking up apples from the garden. Again. I have given bags of the fruit away to everyone who wants them, but still they tumble from the tree. Sometimes they even have the audacity to fall on me as I am gathering their compatriots beneath, the little green bastards. But still it feels like

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It seems Pakistan is not the only place where insanity comes into play every day in life. A couple estranged and seperated recently in Cambodia have taken the weird and hilarious step of cutting their house in two as a seperation of property exercise. I can just imagine if this practice is adopted in say

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I am a wearer of hats. One day – four hats – same head underneath. I think. Hat 1 – 6.15am This morning it’s a struggle to leave the house; so much to do and I daren’t be late. Dirty washing flung into the machine, sandwiches made, fruit sliced, yoghurt poured, cake cut, bags packed,

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Dawlish, Devon A small child with a blonde plait down her back digs in the damp sand with a plastic spade. She wears a hand knitted jumper over her little bikini; she was almost blue with cold when they finally enticed her out of the sea, and her mother has insisted she keep the jumper

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Balancing a guitar, the coke bottle, and themselves… … trying not to trip over the rocks, trying to steady nature to suit their unsteadiness. “yeh shaam phir nahin aai gi…”, voices lilted, wobbled, and carried in the wind, fading out slowing over the moonlit ocean. The waves splashed the rocks gently, and the fine mist

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Everything is in boxes. It’s not that I’m packing up to leave; I’m packing up to stay. Stay sane, that is.   The boxes I am referring to are, of course, my emotions. One box for my husband, and another, smaller, box for Owen. And the most puzzling thing is – they are entirely separate.

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