By Mahrukh ZaidiAuthor’s note: This poem was written in honor of a devastating attack on a maternity ward in Kabul. Inna Lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un.
Dear mama,
You chose to push me out from the darkness into the light.
As such I can never repay you back for the precious gift of life.
I sleep soundly dreaming of all that lies ahead of us as a family.
A collection of first and last milestones that we will recall happily:
My first day at school: you will kiss me in my shiny shoes and spotless uniform
My first skinned knees: you will apply anti-septic and bandage whatever is torn
My first feverish night: you will whisper duas nonstop as you sponge me down
My first mischief: you will be ready with a slipper in your hand and a frown
My last baby tooth: you will tell me that I am now responsible for all my actions
My last exam results: you will smile, and wish me luck in pursuing my passions
My last day unmarried: you will wish to reverse time back to when I was a boy
My last moments with you: you will be surrounded by family, friends and joy
But for now, I am content to wait forever as you recover in the bed nearby
My nourisher, my sustainer; as long as you are there my worries are far away
But what is this new sound I hear?
It is not the sound of your lullabies; it is the sound of fear.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
I hear people screaming now; I hear the darkness reappear.
Mama, I am afraid. Something bad is happening in this safe space.
Where are you? I miss your soothing touch and comforting embrace.
Please come to me.
Mama, I am hungry. The last drops of milk have dried up on my tongue.
Where are you? I miss your nourishing feed and lullabies still unsung.
Please come to me.
Mama, I miss you. Your face fades away and I cannot remember it enough.
Where are you? I miss your tranquil smile and unconditional love.
Please come to me.
But you don’t come.
Instead, I am picked up by unfamiliar strangers.
Where are you? I sense nothing but danger.
They are crying and calling me an unfamiliar word.
Mama, will you please explain to me what I heard?
Ana Yateem, Ana yateem, Ana yateem.
I am an Orphan.
17/5/20