To all the men I've loved before Who travelled in and out my door I'm glad they came along I dedicate this song To all the men I've loved before To all the men I once caressed And may...

  Grief is like an uncut diamond. Each side when polished reveals the beauty inside. Each facet, once sharpened, displays the shimmering strength of what eventually emerges as the honed stone – atoms pushed together through the build up of...

I went to an all-girls school. We had little awareness of the budding magic of our young bodies, we did not have boyfriends, a party was a sleepover with amateur manicures and gossip. We did not have any internet, our...

Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You are the...

The amygdala is the most used part of my brain when driving in Dubai. Yesterday I visited a friend who lives in a flat in a gridlock of buildings along Dubai’s overdeveloped seafront. It’s a 7.5 minute walk from my...

I exult in the fact I can see everywhere with a flexible eye; the very notion of home is foreign to me, as the state of foreignness is the closest thing I know to home. Pico Iyer Living in Dubai,...