kal,
a word in urdu used for both yesterday and tomorrow,
Kal,
My family told me, my life will begin,
because a Man will be by my side,
yet,
Kal,
My life began,
A tapestry I worked into,
and I never needed any Man,
Kal,
the women of the family will parade me down my wedding aisle,
will cover me in Haldi* and feed me sweets as yellow as indian mangoes,
Yet
Kal,
they beat me till I was blue,
the only yellow I had was the daal* that was fed,
I guess my pain sweetened their tongues,
I must have been an experiment of a first girl child,
one with no father,
I was disrespectful they said,
They let go of the other cousin,
She.
Just like me,
Made departure,
Was she a sinner for loving,
What was so haram about her love?
did her mendhi make it too obvious?
Were her eyes deep in kajal?
did she wear her freedom on her lips?
Cages full of firey aunties and uncles,
setting her all alight,
Kal,
Over dinner table, they spoke of marriage,
yet they say you cannot choose your lovers,
As a child, over quran class I told my mum I would not have an arranged marraige,
At my graduation the same discussion came up,
Without mother, without father, without Ama,
without family,
The defining factor of my worth, marraige, returned to me,
On the day I bled and passed three years of education,
had a whole in my chest from the bullets of my ama,
had yet to grieve her death,
but on this day, marraige was priority,
Kal,
I will be expired,
They say I will no longer be of marriage material,
Not appealing enough for Man,
Blood the signifying deal breaker,
Is she good or is she bad?
Surface level,
They have yet to see how my eyes orbit the constellations above us,
between my hands launched in prayer,
how I am a dreamer of sand and sun,
I must be wild
Kal, I will find a lover as hungry as I,
Kal,
I was a good girl,
Every rule followed as if in army camp
every movement, of mine shunned and watched,
and Kal,
I question what goodness must be left in me,
I doubt my holiness,
They define holy by how many times I press my head on ground,
Yet they themselves do not notice the vulgarities that come out of mouths,
The abusers of children,
What heinous crime could be worse?
Kal,
Pakistan used to be a memory,
something I wanted to wash out my skin,
Yet now everything is done in its rememberance,
Kal,
I will return to my homeland,
more of a home then where I grew up in,
the torture house, full of mother screaming,
beating and never feeding,
I wonder what her future holds?
Kal,
She will marry and be free,
yet Kal,
she was still grieving over my dead father,
blaming me for never marrying,
Kal,
I found a home within my Ama’s arms,
yet,
Kal,
I have found her underground, with me weeping over soil,
of a body I would never wish to say goodbye,
Kal,
She prayed over me for years,
Washing off the jinns internally,
everyday Surah Yasin would be immersed with water,
and she would remember me as if her own daughter,
and Kal,
I prayed the last Surah over her dead body,
While the coffin laid open.
The glory of rhythm.
Kal.
Haldi * =Turmeric (yellow spice)
Daal* = Yellow Lentils