The following is a confession: I have developed a ‘thing’ for mint syrup. There are quite a bunch of those aluminium bottles with the greeny, gooey, sticky, funky fresh liquid staring at me from the fridge. Not to even mention the bulk bottle staring down from the countertop, judgingly. My friends had gotten air of this and given me beakers with mint leaves and what not at parties. I’m not complaining.

A tale of neither man or woman that are the face of the crowd and not the crowd.

Unknown makes unloved, an interesting proverb isn’t it? Just by definition one can associate unknown with unfamiliarity, something that is yet to be revealed, or maybe something we share a complex dialect with. Through my limited experience, I have also felt how we often don’t fear the unknown, but rather what we project onto the unknown. Being Indian, my “limited experience” obviously would like to peel one such complexity that is part of the Indian fabric, but that over time has mutated into different roles and identities within the society.

A few months ago, three students, Saif Ragaei, Ammar Yasser and Mariam Ihab, interviewed by KooZA/rch,  realised “how unstable the notion of normal life is by examining the situations where this sense of normalcy is destroyed in a horrific suddenness.” They questioned the fragility of our day to day in the face of political conflict and natural disasters and for the theme of the future of home they sent their contribution of technical drawings of destruction.