Tags: Poetry
Birmingham, England – July 2021:
My cousins and I ran
Around the house
Picking hiding spots.
Why are you hiding?
My grandfather asked
Who are you hiding from?
It’s a game
We laughed as I
Stuffed myself inside the bathroom
Lights off, crouched behind the door.
He nodded
You can’t hide from God
He nodded
And sipped his tea.
Nana Abu should play
Someone said
I bet he’d be so quiet.
I bet he’d hide really well.
Amritsar, Punjab – August 1947:
A teenage boy boards a train
Quran in hand.
More boys follow him
Machetes dripping maroon ink.
He stuffs himself inside the bathroom
Lights off, crouched behind the door.
You can’t hide from God
He hears a boy laugh.
He stays quiet in his hiding spot
When the game is over
He emerges alone.
The floor is stained red.