A young woman from Oman, Zuhur, narrates through her daily life the story of her grandmother. How she grew up and essentially never experienced love, never fulfilled her dreams. She had children who were not her own, left her homeland, became partially blind, lost her loved ones, and all she ever wanted was a field with flowers and fruits. A farm with orange trees and anything one could think of.

Only that none of this ever happened. She raised her grandchildren with immense love. Her granddaughter mourns for her grandmother and all that she did not live. She relives through nightmares the guilt of abandonment. She intertwines her present life with that of her grandmother. She is a spectator in a forbidden love and relives her story.

She travels between the past and the present with lyrical mastery, a writing that evokes endless sorrow. She brings to life the scents, the sounds, the images with the skill of an artist. She conveys the sadness that her grandmother experienced, which she herself is also experiencing in the present.

The only thing I missed is perhaps seeing the present in greater detail. Nevertheless, it is an excellent book, a quest for identity that moves you.