754 books
—
617 voters
Areeba
https://www.goodreads.com/imamareeba
“She had a mind like a box of fireworks and hands that played recklessly with matches.”
― Dirty Pretty Things
― Dirty Pretty Things
“But for my sister, that's the condition of love.
She was my father's daughter:
the face of love, to her,
is the face turning away.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
She was my father's daughter:
the face of love, to her,
is the face turning away.”
― Poems, 1962-2012
“my mother thinks i’m a living proof of cultural appropriation
but aren’t i a foreigner in my own country
an outsider
but only on the inside”
― The Breast Mountains Of All Time Are In Hargeisa
but aren’t i a foreigner in my own country
an outsider
but only on the inside”
― The Breast Mountains Of All Time Are In Hargeisa
“Blood stains are not easy to remove. Yes, and they will enter the rooms and see my bedding. Perhaps a young girl will fit into my daughter’s clothes. Or it’ll all be a waste because they too lost a young daughter in the vadda raula. These clothes will haunt them. They will want to go back. How crazy! I don’t want to be here and they don’t want to be there. They can’t be here and I can’t be there. How absurd! It is like someone just did it in jest. What value does my life have? Zilch. Nobody thought of this? They live with my nightmares, I live with theirs. And then learn to ignore these sounds I hear from the crevices of the new house. Each night I plug my ears and shut my eyes. A new story over my story. The slate has been wiped clean. With blood.”
― In The Land of The Lovers
― In The Land of The Lovers
“These tarnished rays, this night-smudged light —
This is not that Dawn for which, ravished with freedom,
we had set out in sheer longing,
so sure that somewhere in its desert the sky harbored
a final haven for the stars, and we would find it.
We had no doubt that night’s vagrant wave would stray
towards the shore,
that the heart rocked with sorrow would at last reach its port.
Friends, our blood shaped its own mysterious roads.
When hands tugged at our sleeves, enticing us to stay,
and from wondrous chambers Sirens cried out
with their beguiling arms, with their bare bodies,
our eyes remained fixed on that beckoning Dawn,
forever vivid in her muslins of transparent light.
Our blood was young — what could hold us back?
Now listen to the terrible rampant lie:
Light has forever been severed from the Dark;
our feet, it is heard, are now one with their goal.
See our leaders polish their manner clean of our suffering:
Indeed, we must confess only to bliss;
we must surrender any utterance for the Beloved — all yearning
is outlawed.
But the heart, the eye, the yet deeper heart —
Still ablaze for the Beloved, their turmoil shines.
In the lantern by the road the flame is stalled for news:
Did the morning breeze ever come? Where has it gone?
Night weighs us down, it still weighs us down.
Friends, come away from this false light. Come, we must
search for that promised Dawn.”
―
This is not that Dawn for which, ravished with freedom,
we had set out in sheer longing,
so sure that somewhere in its desert the sky harbored
a final haven for the stars, and we would find it.
We had no doubt that night’s vagrant wave would stray
towards the shore,
that the heart rocked with sorrow would at last reach its port.
Friends, our blood shaped its own mysterious roads.
When hands tugged at our sleeves, enticing us to stay,
and from wondrous chambers Sirens cried out
with their beguiling arms, with their bare bodies,
our eyes remained fixed on that beckoning Dawn,
forever vivid in her muslins of transparent light.
Our blood was young — what could hold us back?
Now listen to the terrible rampant lie:
Light has forever been severed from the Dark;
our feet, it is heard, are now one with their goal.
See our leaders polish their manner clean of our suffering:
Indeed, we must confess only to bliss;
we must surrender any utterance for the Beloved — all yearning
is outlawed.
But the heart, the eye, the yet deeper heart —
Still ablaze for the Beloved, their turmoil shines.
In the lantern by the road the flame is stalled for news:
Did the morning breeze ever come? Where has it gone?
Night weighs us down, it still weighs us down.
Friends, come away from this false light. Come, we must
search for that promised Dawn.”
―
Harry Potter
— 17375 members
— last activity Jul 15, 2026 09:50PM
We're fans of Rowling's series because we know that it is more than just a children's fantasy story. ...more
Connecting Readers and Writers
— 3959 members
— last activity 8 hours, 56 min ago
We connect adventurous readers with Indie Authors. This group is about connecting writers with readers in a way that has not been done on Goodreads b ...more
Areeba’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Areeba’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Adult Fiction, Art, Biography, Book Club, Chick-lit, Children's, Classics, Comics, Contemporary, Cooking, Crime, Fantasy, Fiction, Gay and Lesbian, Historical fiction, History, Horror, Humor and Comedy, Literary Fiction, Memoir, Mystery, Non-fiction, Paranormal, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Romance, Science fiction, Suspense, Thriller, Travel, Young-adult, and Women's Fiction
Polls voted on by Areeba
Lists liked by Areeba

















































