Fatima Ijaz, is currently teaching English and Speech Communication at Institute of Business Administration, Karachi. She is an English graduate from Hartwick College, N.Y and York University, Toronto. She also holds a Master in English Linguistics from Eastern Michigan University. She won first prize at the Mclaughlin Poetry Contest in Toronto, 2007. Her work was featured in a poetry and art collaboration for #NomeansNo at the Music Mela, Islamabad’18 and at Art Baithak, Karachi University in March 2019. Her work has been published in Zau, Red Fez, Rigorous, The Write Launch, Abramelin, Della Donna, Whirlwind, These Fragile Lilacs, Writer’s Asylum and Praxis magazine.
Sonia Mukherji was born in Kolkata and recently moved to London after living in New York for ten years. She graduated from the Kundiman fellowship program and her poetry has been published and translated in the U.S. and internationally in literary journals including Stylus, Shampoo Poetry, Urhalphool, Kolkata’s The Little Magazine, Prothom Alo, The Dhaka Tribune, Bhorer Kagoj and the J’aipur Journal. She was a finalist for the Amy Awards and the AALR a lettre initiative. She was given an international poetry feature in Kolkata, which was held at the cultural institute Nandan, hosted by the Bengali poet Subodh Sarkar, reviewed by the literary journal Bhashanagar, and televised.
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What happens when Indian film-maker, writer and traveller Saeed Mirza is sucked into a tiny shop in Greenwich Village, New York: Outlook
May 22, 2014
I pass a tiny shop in Greenwich Village with a no-nonsense signboard above that says ‘Greenwich Locksmiths’. Just below this, an additional tag-line reveals ‘Master Licensed Locksmith Since 1968’.
I glance through the small entrance door to see in the dark interior a sixtyish, hawk-faced man bent over a work-table, deeply engrossed in filing away at some small piece of metal. He doesn’t notice my presence. I don’t know why I stop to watch him, but having done so I am transfixed. I look at his face as he works away and am amazed at his level of concentration and the intensity of his gaze as he keeps checking the metal object in his hand from time to time. I must have been watching him for a while when suddenly he turns his head towards the door and looks out. I feel incredibly stupid standing there on the sidewalk looking in. So, I smile at him and then realize that he hasn’t noticed me because he rubs his eyes for a moment and goes back to work: he was giving his eyes a much-needed break.