Missing
After all the talk and bullshit about Iraq, this is what is left. To be so far from home, powerless to help, as a whirlwind of violence engulfs everyone you love...I am haunted by the image of Sarmad alone at his kitchen table, imagining his family are laughing and joking with him as they eat the food his mother has cooked for them all:
I seek consolation in small things that remind me of home. I keep three envelopes with my mother’s recipes scribbled on them — lentil soup, tomato sauce with beans and Iraqi-style biryani — next to my bed. When bad things happen back home, I cook them.
posted by Dr Zen @ 4:04 pm
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