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