As part of our new “b-roll” film column, Vamika Sinha revisits Boots Riley’s Afro-surrealist Sorry to Bother You, and why it offers important commentary on the intersections of race and late-stage capitalism in 2020.
we were swimming then
already in the dead
sea this year
when i noticed…
NYU Abu Dhabi is one of the few university campuses in the world that is still operating, while struggling to stay safe, retain a sense of community and safeguard both individual and community health. This photo series documents, subtly, the emotional and psychological impacts on young students whose lives have been interrupted by the looming virus…
A selection of lo-fi/chill songs for lazing in bed and staring out the window during quarantine.
Scenes of Abu Dhabi, UAE during the current COVID-19 pandemic.
& couldn’t we be
softer? flyaways tamed
cowlicks domesticated &
all the scallops filed …
with you i have learned love
is utopia & dystopia at the same time.
so love is Earth
how many hands did god
cut – makers
of coffeebeans & compost &
how many hands…
Before arriving in New York in that snow-full January, I had never really reconciled the “hyphens” of my own existence – born as an Indian citizen, I grew up entirely in the southern African capital of Botswana, eventually moving to Abu Dhabi for university at the age of 18. I knew I had grown up and formed a slow identity while straddling more than one culture, both of which I had not really learnt to accept or love, but just sit in, perplexed into a discomfiting stasis between them. Going to America has burst that still yolk of a bubble…
you remind me to feel like
शहद, and i don’t need to translate
“My habitats are people,” shares Joburg-based indie singer Moonga K. “People I have deep, meaningful friendships with. People and spaces where I don’t feel alone. People I’ve lodged in my heart and mind indefinitely.”
in the open city, i move like an eel. i am electric and curved like a smile razored. in the open city, i live on hot food and hot music …
at the mouth
of mina zayed, oozing
i fell into birth
licked down like
sand tongue, salivating
against continent; i got me
a country this way
Adella wondered if it was getting bad again. She had read a poem recently that called identity a “wet shirt” you had to pull over your head every morning.
Whole Foods is the safest place on earth. What would the terrorists come for? The organic ice-cream? The dinky doughnuts, perhaps, were worth killing for. Imagine, a rainbow of kombucha and salad and bamboo leaf shampoo, with artisanal cheese for taste, shattering outwards, like the first sigh of relief after a breakup.