The Love that Heaven Separates

Elevated colours,

shelter of evergreen and brown,

The understudy waiting

Curtain closes

hands come together thunderously,

Scarlet grin upon the wrinkled flag of white

bald head, smoky hair

Azure stars twinkling

The hugs of a grandfather

Following day:

Contoured face contorted with pain

warm, soft skin freezes

blue veins turn grey

heart stops

the curtain falls

The sail is torn

Death stands,

A mountain of black

Sheds his curse,

Clown's mask washed by the waterfall of ebony

Grandfather who brought joy the night before

Exeunt.

Stutter

Do you know that feeling? That heart in your mouth. Pounding. Deafening. That pounding that begins when you're picked to read that one paragraph.
One simple paragraph.
One stanza.
One line.
A word.

All is quiet and you think they can hear your heartbeat. Your tired, sweating heart. Your poisonous mind whispering to you. Signaling a mess up. The other mind egging you on. Which one should you listen to? Both mean certain death.

You break the silence. You speak. Beginning that word. Flawless; you think it's smooth sailing now. You get confident, you read more and more and more. But then you can't anymore. Your breath stops. You're fighting with yourself. Your tongue wrapped, held in place. No air in your mouth. No breath. You're gasping for air. You’re stuck on one word. You know what it is, you can't say it your mouth won't let you say it. How can you describe how it feels to have that fight with your tongue and mind. You have no air, no structure, no control you can't form it. It's a word that starts with 'a.' You are always stuck at those. There's something about that letter, you can't defeat it. A  A  A  deep breath  pause  breath again. "Arise."

The worst is over. You can't see any more 'a' words. Or 'k' words. Or 'w' words. No more dangerous lettered words. It's over. The panic wheels in your mind stop turning. You read on, two more words to go. One word. No more words.

You can't look up. You know you’re burning. Can't look at everyone. Or anyone. What if they're laughing? What if they never understand. You’re ashamed. Angry. Embarrassed. Why is this not over? One part of your brain scolding the other. Scolding your tongue. Bas karo, khatam bhi hojaye. Doesn't look like it will. You thought it was. You were fluent, flawless, at least in English. Phir kia hua? Wapis kyun aati rehti hai? How do you fix this? What do you do? Is it even fixable? You thought it was. Everyone told you it was.

Why does it keep bouncing back? No clue. You hate talking. You hate reading. You want to hide somewhere and never come out. You hate yourself.
One moment it's fine.
The next, it's not.
You’re tired of fighting. Fighting to speak. Fighting to gasp for air to grasp those words. You’re tired. You shout at yourself. You can't have this struggle every time.
The struggle to do something that everyone else can do just fine.

A Response to Racism

You look at my warm skin,

it's dark; like chocolate

maybe even lighter,

It invites you in

I invite you in

with smiles, warm greetings

a good nature

You take one look at me,

At my skin,

My accent

which is a wee bit different,

My dark eyes and dark hair

In comparison to yours,

See, that’s where you make the mistake

You compare

I don't

You take one look at me

Comparing;

Establishing yourself higher

Me lower

Who gave you that authority?

You retreat within yourselves

You would call it 'your kind'

I wouldn't.

I'd just call you humans

You seem to disagree

To you, that would mean we are the same

And it's clear by your wall, you don't agree

So be it.

You stare at me,

Judging

my darker skin

my Pakistani accent,

I pronounce the words like you:

To-may-to

Po-tay-to

It's not enough for you

I sound different

I mix two languages:

usne mujhe dekha weirdly

You look at me ajeeb se

I mould cultures

create a new one,

You look at me ajeeb se,

You don't think I'm good enough,

My land, my language

inferior to yours,

You want to teach me

Correct me

I stand up to you

My naksha, my dil, my zabaan

My rang

Is mine,

You cannot demean it

You fight back

Invading my zameen

A zameen you will never understand

Picking at my parts

Exotic, you call it

I call it orientalist

My chai, my salan, my naan

You take for your own,

But you don't understand it,

You call it curry

It will never be curry

You think I'm barbaric

uneducated, a thief

or a terrorist

I'm so much more

You want to lead me forward,

I should tell you

I don't need you to,

In terms of humanity

I reached there way before you

So when I sit across you

don't giggle

don't exchange looks

don't be surprised

I'm the same as you

There's no need to stare.

If I called before the end, would you come?

The bombs are falling

Dark, hot, echoing

Enveloping me

Abba screaming

His flesh burning

Mine drowning

He disappears
I cannot hear him
Frozen.
Waiting

White light
another wave of hell explodes

And arms pull me away

My feet crunch into the crumbling earth

toes scraped and bruised

legs pulling themselves away
before they melt

We take shelter

Amma and I 

Watching 

Aasman jalta hai

We call out to God

Praying for the sky to stop

crumbling

We call out to you

to end the fire

I bury my face in Amma's warmth

a ticking warmth

Dust rains down

I am screaming

But 

it bounces off the walls

coming back to haunt me

No one listens

I am alone 

Of sunsets and nightfall

It drew to a close
pulling back
shutting down

A soft dark shelter stretching
Far and wide

the further it extended
the more it led to
Tiny fireflies buzzing open

Mid-air
And on the ground

it drew cautiously
watching darkness appear
Watching it settle

While it watched
it's rays fought the confused blue and coal

Bright gold struggling against the clouded deep blue
Orange flames burning the approaching grey,

Fighting hard
as it sank,
Sank under ebony waves

Leaving them to fight a lost battle
Of blue, cloudy and burning

A remembrance which sheds tears

Remembrance of those days scares me,
Depresses me,
It is too painful

Big girls don't cry,
But that day I did,
Cried in silence,
tears flowing

Heart shattered.
The feeling of betrayal fresh,
Scarring me so deep,
That I can shed more tears with a simple remembrance.

Daisy from The Great Gatsby

From upper class she was,
Dressed in white,
as white as the pearls in the ocean.
Sipping wine,
elegant, graceful, poised.
Men tipped their hats at her.
She smiled,
a scornful smile.
Powdered hands,
pale fingers,
clutched at her beige skirt,
as she walked in the halls.
A gentleman in blue,
took her delicate fingers,
bent down,
touched his lips to them,
Dove into his pocket,
white turned to silver.
Diamonds sparkled,
as she danced under the eyes,
he lifted her hand,
his lips met hers.
The melodious music stopped,
he bowed.
And then it was all over