Zainab Mahmood

Zainab began writing before she could speak (nonsensical doodles count). She's always spoken her own language, which can be a tad bit confusing for others, but she's managed to get by so far. She believes she is meant for bigger, greater things as soon as she gets up, grabs life by the neck and rings it. Until then she comments on life for fun and for money. Chronically broke, obsessively creative, permanently surrounded by words and thoughts. She would cease to exist without these two things. Paper, pencil, coke and music. Okay so thats more than two. Point is, she wouldnt last a second without them. She travelled the world and found herself in a dusky old street in the wee hours of the morning, in London. Since then she hasnt been the same. Moved back to Pakistan and is currently grappling with reality and writing her debut novel, she's not very good with time, comfortably lingering, abruptly tempestuous, she'll get there, eventually.

Posts

• Investigating Abu Ghraib


• Haven't I Seen You on Orkut?

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