In 2001, I began life in America as a migrant of fortune. I had left Abu Dhabi for the United States to attend college. I was twenty. For my parents, Indian migrants and temporary workers who lived in the UAE, my departure was inevitable. The UAE does not grant citizenship to its foreign labor force or their children. I fully expected the American Embassy to reject my student-visa application because my father was broke. Yet at the embassy, I wasn’t interviewed. I was simply asked to return the following week to collect my passport. In Jersey, where I received my BA, I worked as a library assistant, resident assistant, gardener, and mover. In New York, I worked for a television station. And when I moved to Chicago by train, to pursue my MFA on scholarship at the Art Institute, I held three jobs to cover rent and food. After graduation, struggling to find steady income, almost out of status, I housesat and watched other people’s dogs, as I polished the manuscript for Temporary People, the reason I moved to the Midwest. Temporary People is a work of fiction set in the UAE, where I was raised and where foreign nationals constitute over 80 percent of the population. It is a nation built by people who are eventually required to leave. Fiction has barely addressed the so-called guest workers of the Gulf, their histories and myths, their struggles and triumphs. Beginning with three construction workers escaping a labor camp, the twenty-eight stories in Temporary People, divided into three sections (Limbs, Tongue, Home), examine temporary residents like them and the homes they have left behind, and illuminates how temporary status affects psyches, families, memories, fables, and language(s). The book employs an amalgamation of the English language tampered with by Malayalam slang, finessed in an Indian school on Emirati soil, and jazzed up thanks to American, Arabic, and British television. The book also explores the mispronunciations and word appropriations that take place when a country’s main demographic are people from elsewhere. If Salman Rushdie’s work toys with the English language and George Saunders’s writing presents dark hyper-real satires, Temporary People attempts to do both, and take the conversation a step further by presenting the Emirati street, face, and sounds. Read the judges' citation and prize announcement on Literary Hub