The Spark of Memory

“I remember reading about it in eighth grade,” Aysha says, as we try to trace the origin of our fascination with the Alhambra.

“There were princesses,” Selma chimes in—or maybe that was just a family joke, spun from the swirl of aunts and female cousins gathered in our grandparents’ home in Pakistan. That house—a world of its own, where stories were stitched into every conversation, folded into every meal, and carried across generations.

A Call Across Continents

We call our Aunt Abidah on WhatsApp. She’s in her nineties now, still sharp, warm, and wrapped in memories. Yes, she confirms, we did read stories of the Princesses of Andalusia. And true to herself, she texts us, her nieces—now in our sixties—to say she still thinks of us as princesses. It’s a gesture that makes us smile.

She’s in Pakistan, but we try to bring her along with us—posting photos on social media, sharing videos through WhatsApp, capturing glimpses of our journey.

A Return to Granada

After COVID, Selma and I visited Alhambra. But Aysha and Afshan hadn’t been, so now, it’s time to return—to walk those intricate halls again, to marvel at the Arabic calligraphy, to feel the history of Andalusia.

Lorca’s Lament

This time, I travel with The Collected Poems of Federico García Lorca: A Bilingual Edition (Revised) translated with an introduction by Christopher Maurer. Lorca’s words speak loudly as we walk though the gardens in the shadows of what was lost.

Of the 1492 expulsion of Muslims by Ferdinand and Isabella, Lorca writes:

“A terrible moment… though they teach us the opposite in school. For an admirable civilization was lost, with poetry, astronomy, architecture, and delicacy that were unequaled in the world.”

No trip to Granada is complete without a flamenco show. We eat an early dinner and sit immersed in the mournful echoes of the past. The singer, an older man with long gray hair, offers a heartfelt tribute: a song in memory of Federico García Lorca, the son of Granada.

Lorca was executed by Nationalist forces in August 1936 during the early days of the Spanish Civil War. He was targeted for his liberal politics, his homosexuality, and his role as a cultural icon. His body was buried in an unmarked grave, and despite many efforts, it has never been found.

Carrying Stories Forward

In the Alhambra’s stillness, we walk through arches that once echoed with poetry, through courtyards where water still whispers stories. It reminds me of the palace of my own memories. And we carry those stories with us—across borders, generations, and WhatsApp calls.

We are no longer children in our grandparents’ home. But the stories linger. And sometimes, they lead us back to the places where they began.

Create Cultural Memories through Literature and Art

The Collected Poems: A Bilingual Edition (Revised)