We were at a conference.
Later at the hotel,
As we were going back to our rooms,
One of my colleagues told me,
“I’m staying in room 13.”
gender violence, harassment, work

I was sitting on the right side,
And the old man was sitting on the left.
He was reading a newspaper,
And his right hand was hidden under it.
He had the newspaper wide open,
So that it even took up my space.

He was interviewing me. Toward the middle of the interview, he asked me, "Why do you want to work?"
"Because I like working."
"You mean you like the attention!"
Him: “Okay, you'll get the job. This is the school’s phone number, and this is my private office number."

One of the worst things to discover is that you're able to read the eyes of men as they look at your body.
Like when you start noticing as one guy looks at your breasts, and another at your lips, and a doorman looks at your waist, and so on.
Then you start interpreting the meaning behind these looks

All of a sudden, a car closed in on me, and I fell off my bike.
One of my knees hurt. I decided to walk back to the starting point.
I left the bike with them and turned back.
That’s when the comments started.
“You fell down, sweetheart? I wish I were that bike.”

I don’t know why I’m going to tell this story,
But I’ve bottled up so much inside me.

There was a period when my parents were separated,
And my grandfather interfered a lot in our lives.
He was a very cruel man,
And so was my mother.

A girl was walking to a supermarket near her house after iftaar  when a kid—no older than 18—said the most disgusting things to her as he fondled himself.

“Be careful while crossing the street.”
“Don’t take flowers from strangers.”
“Don’t walk down dark streets.”
The things I especially could never forget were,
“Don’t walk like a girl! Walk like a man!”

She stood, pretty as a picture,
In the midst of a place that despised beauty.
The eyes of the passengers, once cold and dead, were now filled with anger and jealousy.
Filled with unspoken words I’ve heard before.

I was leaning against a pole behind the driver’s seat, and through the crowd, I saw a man smiling at me.
I closed my eyes for a bit—I was dying to sleep—and when I opened them again, the man was standing in front of me, holding onto the pole I was leaning against.