We’re moving. Again. I can’t count the times we’ve moved in my life. I was born in Sollentuna, where we lived till I was five. Then we went to Bangladesh and lived there for six months (my brothers were still here though). The plan was for me to get into school there. When that didn’t work out, we moved back. We lived in so many places after that, don’t think we ever stayed in the same place a whole year. Until one day my mom got an offer from an aunty to buy her apartment for 35 000 SEK. Tensta. That’s where I grew up. We lived there for ten years. I had a great childhood alhamdulillah, but by the end of those ten years I started getting tired of that place. It’s one of the less flattering areas of Stockholm, and the little birdie started dreaming about bluer skies.

That’s when we moved into Hässelby. My eldest brother had just gotten married. We had to renovate almost the entire house. We did some of the work ourselves. I remember a particular spot in the kitchen ceiling which I painted. I remember daydreaming while painting that spot. Most of my memories in this house are good. My three nephews were born here.

The day Rayan was born, I was confused. I put the glass of water on the ground and bhabi’s foot spilled it. She couldn’t finish the sandwhich I think. She was walking around all day. Bhaiya telling me to go with them “for emotional support”. The hospital. The smells. The pictures of babies on the notice board. The delivery room. Middle of the night. Headache. Screams. A baby. He looked at me. Those dark dark eyes and that pink skin. So tiny. The coming three months I changed his diaper, put him to sleep. Then I had to fly back to Luleå.

Eron. We went to the hospital. Rayan in a DSLR shot ready to see his new cousin. Eron cried when I picked him up. His head hurt. The delivery had been difficult. He was huge. Such dark hair. He transformed in the months to come. Became insanely kissable. Me showing his dad how to change the diaper after a poo poo. Me becoming Norah.

Ilan. Lillan. Confusion. Only four months after Eron. Need to divide my time between these two. Rayan more frustrated than ever. A cousin and now this? Another person in our bed? The night when his parents were at the hospital. He kept waking up. Kept screaming. Having mom take him to kindergarten. Me taking him home. Telling him his parents will be home soon. Lillan throwing up as soon as they stepped inside. Rayan crying.

And now… now we’re being separated. Rayan, Lillan and their parents are moving to a place far from here. Mom and I will be living with the others for some time, in a house only 2-3 minutes from here. I won’t have to leave Hässelby. Won’t have to leave the greens, the blues, the airplanes flying overhead, the calm, the memories. Not yet anyway.

But things are changing. And I’m scared.