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2007

i visited my old house today. i think it was the only place i called home with all my heart but maybe that was because that's all i knew back then. i forced my tears back as i found the hole in the backyard wall, i had found a lizard's egg in there once and had been excited for an entire week,  i could still trace out the cracks on the footpath outside the gate because i cycled on it for years trying to keep the wheel on the line. the orange tree that baba planted is now almost 10ft tall and the other tree that our old gardner planted is now double the size.  the new residents are not taking care of the lawn very well, the lokaat tree is uprooted and there are no flowering plants. there is a small bench where we had our dhaniya and podina leaves  the sky was too pretty today and a strong wind blew as i entered the gate, almost like i was in the middle of a movie the neighbor's gate which was our makeshift swing is now gone but the flowers i used as veggies in pretend play...
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chinar

22 years old m prayed her Friday zuhr namaz in a golf club with her jacket as the jayenamaz next to her shia friend and Maghreb in a university parking lot on a prayer mat borrowed from a male friend i am sure the 15-year-old confused m is proud of her for figuring out what religious tolerance is  and finally knowing that you don't always have to take sides.
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all the unfinished pieces from last few months!

damp roads after autumn rains and the memories of everything calm. the thought of getting older. the night i broke your heart. i don't regret it but i think of you every time my heart hurts. adat instrumental plays in the background rn. how do you feel about adult life?  -------------------------------- i am trying to wear eyeliner even on days when my eyebrows are not done and wear extra rings even when my hands are not waxed. its difficult, i haven't been able to convince myself but i am trying to love my body even on days when it doesn't really fulfill society's beauty standards. ----------------------------------------- when you have lived in more than one place, be it a sleepover at a friend's or someone's heart or an actual non-metaphorical house made of concrete walls, you will always long for more. sometimes it will be the people you love, other times it will be material things, the peace and the quiet. ---------------------------------------------------...
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morning

tonight I'd like to step out of my body. place it gently on a couch and cover it with a soft blanket. then id like to sit on a rock by the sea. with ' dancing with your ghost' playing in the background, i'll write you a letter. i will finally feel free of the consequences of my hasty decisions I stay up all night Tell myself I'm alright Baby, you're just harder to see than most i will start by telling you that i meant every word i said, i said it because i felt it in the moment. I will once again compliment the shade of your skin before realizing i am doing it again. Every night I'm dancing with your ghost Every night I'm dancing with your ghost i will finally tell you that i am choking on all the love i have for you and that i want to be free again.  i will write about how i want to have fewer things to worry about, a tear or two will drop and smudge some ink   on the paper Never got the chance To say a last goodbye I gotta move on But it hurts to try I...
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j u n e

Ever since I met you, I walk with my heart in one hand and an ancient dagger in the other.  Blood dripping off, leaving marks, they'd be tough to wash faint rusty stains will linger forever if not crimson and the brown tint will also float amidst the hazel sea --------------------- I don't recognize the figure that stares back at me in the mirror anymore so many lies  lies and lies --------------------- I drew my old home today tried to transfer everything on paper  because I am forgetting the details  details of the only building I called home with all my heart  the heart that I carry in my hand now with blood dripping  I think some of the details dripped there as I made room for the details of your existence  I couldn't remember how long the window from the dining room to the courtyard was and which shelf were the books on  was it the middle one or the last one I think there was a vase with pink flowers in the middle one like the flowers growing...
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tick tock

 i am going down the same path that i swore not to go on the moon looked pretty today don't forget to call them complain only to Him focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus one day at a time i owe it to myself the khussa matches perfectly with the dress green curtains  long way to go loads and loads and tons and tons of belief  will your absence hurt more than your presence? i don't have a purple scarf there are more meds in the box on the dining table now her smirks hurt more now his hair is weird when will karma hit her will i make it where is home why did I switch to questions from statements
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warm

the only way to get your love is to not love you at all.  who owns the windows in the corridors of inns and hostels? who stands by them feeling at home, comfortable, and warm? and who takes the responsibility of opening them when cool wind blows and shutting them when it rains. you see? no one.  I can't love you while I stay in an inn and while my search for a home is all that keeps me up at night. we are back in the middle ages, I am traveling by foot, and my horse is stolen. I've escaped pirates and survived wars and there is peace nowhere. we need an industrial revolution and a mini-renaissance to be united.  It's an ancient dystopia. The fruits are poisoned and the enemy is at the door. the pens are spies, I cant send you letters anymore. Your eyes won't see words written by my hands, and your arms won't be able to hold me anymore. it's a long way to go, never-ending, like the number line in mathematics.
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