Zubaida and the children left their home to discover a new religious refuge Her husband would catch up with her later, he had to do what men do It was over a year later when he released from captivity But at least they survived Over a million souls didn't I sometimes wonder what that time … Continue reading Zubaida’s 1947
My Father was a hipster His Father was a prisoner of war Both of my Grandmothers believed in God My Mother believed in everything Her Father believed in nothing but himself I suppose I was always going to be this way
You say you notice everything about me You laugh and say I walk like I’m ice skating Feet bounding ahead in a circular motion As if that makes it easier to keep moving forward But that only feels true When I’m with you One thing you did stop noticing Is the moisture on my eyelashes … Continue reading Gliding
I have a theory That every blue moon, gold spills off my tongue Unravelling out of my mouth like a seed in bloom After a long winter of nothingness It scares people
Some people will try and dim your light Somewhere down your lifeline The source of sorrow is that it won’t be who you expect The devil appears in beautiful forms And none are immune to his deception They say blood is thicker than water But your body is composed of more water than blood It … Continue reading Shade
A perception of South Asian women has lingered That they are inherently submissive, naive, hidden from the world behind dupattas and burkas But I look to the women of my bloodline who arrived before me Audacious, uncompromising, unbearable to the men who don’t want to hear them Bold looks, big dreams, words armed with wit It’s … Continue reading To The Women Of My Blood
