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hidayat

Rukhsar Palla

​

i once walked into the ocean 

& she tossed me so casually, 

i mistook her for a man.

misread her passion for anger, 

her gulp for song. how she rocked 

me breathless, till i ate salt like fish. 

my tongue spelled siren song, 

fingers pulled crustacean 

out of sand—i melted into her 

memory, perhaps for the story

i needed to write or the people 

i needed to prove wrong.

would have followed her home too, 

if it weren't for my father's war 

with the water. his fear too familiar—

how he fought from land, yet here 

i was, submerged deep in her beautiful 

belly, a small little nothing, except 

i wasn't just a small little nothing, 

​

                     i was his

​

                                              small little nothing. 

​

couldn't succumb even after 

she twisted my ankle twice. 

hidayat gifted to those who beg. 

so i begged. my body in sajdah, 

a slice of spring. ocean water 

its own adhan. call it bloodline, 

or haq, or fury, my father's voice 

permeated over the foam—

​

                                      you cannot do this to me. 

​

so i became a child again:

​

no skirts, no sleeveless shirts, 

no yelling back, no soda 

on the weekdays, no slamming

doors, no dinner without a full 

glass of milk, no football games, 

no sleepovers, no prom dates, 

no using the word hate, no 

allowance—because we can 

provide you with anything.

no dances—except we know 

you'll go to them anyway.

no swimming—except we'll buy 

the house with a pool & make you 

take lessons every summer.

no hookah, no going in the garage,

no chance you're leaving california

—except somehow you made it 

to france. no hiding from us 

because we love you. no abandoning 

Allah, because who are you without 

Him? no losing faith, because the power 

of trust is greater than anything 

we can give you. no drowning, 

​

because it would break us.

​

no drowning, because you haven't 

explored your name enough. 

gratitude for being named by my father. 

urdu poetry since birth. my name

​

a reminder: 

when i cannot access love,

there is my name. no drowning, 

​

because love is just the beginning.

​

all the conditions 

channeling tireless into my legs

​

                                            obey my first language

​

so i lunged up & ran.

​

​

Biography: Rukhsar Palla is a writer of multiple genres, based in New York. She received her M.F.A in Fiction from Emerson College, but poetry is her first love. She is currently working on a collection of poems titled, Muslimah Wandering, and she has poems published in Pank, The Cape Rock, and other literary journals. website: www.queenrukhs.com

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