I want to be free.
I want to write whatever I want.
But all married women now have red lines they can’t cross.
“Now that we live together, you have to forget about writing,”
They’re told as soon as they get married.

It felt as if I was in a wrestling match.
That his purpose was to invade and destroy everything.
That he had no intention to listen.
That survival was for the fittest.

When I’m alone, pondering my rejection of this rotten, patriarchal world, I wonder if my opinions truly are extreme.
I mean, so what if my uncle divorced his wife five times?
And what's wrong with my other uncle being married to three women at the same time?
And why is it a big deal that my aunt was once beaten up with a pair of flip flops for refusing to make a cup of tea for her
husband, who was lazing in front of the TV watching a football match while she was busy scrubbing the bathroom floor?

I found myself forgetting about the music,
And the fitting Fayrouz lyrics streaming from my earphones.
Forgetting about the book in my hands,
And forgetting my desire to improve my English.
I gazed at her face.

I went to her place.
Her mom greeted me and let me know that she was going to run some errands.
Until she was back, we had the house to ourselves.
Her and I.

I had a friend during high school,
And things started to develop between us.
I thought it was love at first,
But I found out later on that he was taking advantage of me.

We’re not allowed to laugh in public.
We’re not allowed to be happy or dance in public.
We’re not allowed to sing in public.
We’re not even allowed to cry in public.
We’re not allowed to do anything in public.

What’s he thinking of?
Does she have the right to say no?
Is it my right to pass judgement on her?
Is it her fault that she’s giving in to society’s standards?

I have an alter ego named Adalaat.
Adaalat only recently started to make an appearance after years of me being poorly treated.
Adaalat gets me riled up every time him and I have a fight.
romantic relationships

At school, boys and girls were separated.
The boys would watch the girls going home,
And choose one to send a letter to.
Then they’d be together.