Falling for a Muslim Guy

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Days and days past,

I stare at leftovers

in finished plates of Biriyani-

Bones and bones without

feathers- bones and bones before flight.


Your Umma’s hands

dipping your black hair strands

into the white sarlaas-

The rice stuck to onion and masala

moves in and out of her left thumb-

How long has she been cooking?

Before time- before world.


Clad in her hijab, sometimes let loose

her hair flies off with the breeze-

may be the wind carries some

thick sugar off her brown cigar


Stories lullabying in and out-

A kunjibee in her earrings

of gold tassels,

that shimmers bright with the sunlight-

like her eyes-

The mahr she received

to make love to the luminous fish.


The green of mosques-

the red of carpets or the white of pheran

there is no one colour to love-

they say-


That’s the best thing about falling for

a Muslim guy, one falls

for Islam too.


Today is the day,

when men of this country shall move out-

Today is the day you are betrayed on birth


I will remember your mother

when I leave.

That’s all-

that’s all to this love song.