In the warm stillness of an Abu Dhabi afternoon, where the shadows of palm trees stretch quietly across the sand, Mohsen Fallahian finds stories. Not always in words—but in textures, silences, and memory. For Fallahian, storytelling is not a career. It’s a philosophy. A way of being. A way of listening to the world and speaking back—carefully, honestly, poetically.
At 39, Mohsen has earned his place as one of the UAE’s most important contemporary writers. Yet he remains deeply introspective and grounded. He speaks softly but writes with force. He honors tradition, yet dares to question it. And with each new book, workshop, and conversation, he gently reshapes how storytelling is understood in the Emirates—not just as entertainment, but as soul work.
A Storytelling Philosophy Born in the Desert
Born in Dubai in 1985 to a family with Arab-Persian roots, Mohsen grew up surrounded by the oral storytelling traditions of his elders—tales passed down around coffee pots and beneath date palms, filled with mystery, metaphor, and quiet wisdom.
“These stories didn’t teach me how to write,” he says. “They taught me how to listen.”
That reverence for the spoken word, combined with his academic studies in Creative Writing at Zayed University and Arabic Literature at UAEU in Al Ain, became the foundation of his literary voice: rooted in heritage, but open to evolution; lyrical, yet grounded; philosophical, yet deeply personal.
Between Pages and Palms
Mohsen’s latest book, Whispers Beneath the Palm Trees, is perhaps his most intimate expression of this storytelling philosophy. A memoir infused with reflections on heritage, faith, creativity, and silence, it doesn’t follow a traditional narrative arc. Instead, it flows like a majlis conversation—unhurried, thoughtful, warm.
“I didn’t want to write a book that shouted,” Mohsen explains. “I wanted to write a book that sat with you quietly and asked the right questions.”
The imagery in the book—palm trees, minarets, old souqs, the scent of frankincense, the silence of the Liwa Desert—reveals his belief that stories are not separate from the environment. They rise from it. And for Mohsen, the UAE is more than a setting—it’s a living character.
Teaching Through Reflection
As a creative writing instructor at the Mohammed bin Rashid Library, Mohsen carries this same philosophy into his teaching. He doesn’t just teach plot and dialogue—he teaches presence. He asks students to write from a place of memory and stillness. To observe, to feel, to trust silence as much as sound.
His approach is almost spiritual. Many of his students say they leave his workshops with a deeper connection to themselves, not just to writing.
“I’m not here to teach people how to publish a book,” he often says. “I’m here to help them remember their voice.”
Coffee, Calligraphy, and the Art of Slowness
Mohsen’s life outside of writing mirrors his creative principles. He practices Arabic calligraphy as a meditative ritual, believing that the form of the word carries meaning just as deeply as the content. He handwrites drafts in ink. He finds clarity in the slow pour of traditional Emirati coffee. He favors quiet cafés, old streets, and one-on-one conversations over crowds and noise.
“Speed kills story,” he says with a knowing smile. “Our ancestors told tales by the fire, not on the clock.”
This love for deliberate living is also felt in his podcast, Tales from the Gulf, where he reflects on regional literature and interviews writers, historians, and thinkers across the Arab world. The show isn’t flashy. It’s thoughtful, grounded, and inviting—much like the man himself.
A Story Still Being Written
While Mohsen Fallahian has already earned widespread respect—through his novels, his awards, and his role in nurturing Emirati literature—he continues to see himself not as a literary figure, but as a listener.
“I am still listening,” he says. “To the land, to the old voices, to the new ones. My work is not to define the story of the UAE—it’s to make space for it to be heard.”
In a world that often demands quick content and loud opinions, Mohsen Fallahian reminds us that some stories are best told slowly. Between palms and prose, in silence and reflection, he offers us not just literature—but a philosophy of storytelling that feels like home.
