Pakistani Village Girl in Boston

Wednesday, October 30, 2013


Far away at the end of the street in Boston
I see the shepherd with his white sheep
As their bells jingle and jingle,
my memories take me somewhere else
I forget where I was and where I am going
I only smile as I see my mom
waving at me from the windows of the giant apartments of this city
and then I hear my little siblings shout my name
I look back as I step on the bus to Harvard Square...
I see mountains behind the buildings
and far away on those mountains
my loved ones live
I see people smile around me as if they understand
But how can they? me and my world are a separate place
and my memories are like aurora
surrounding me
reminding me
of the bright sunlight when I sat with my cousins
inside that huge mud haveli,
and we all sang songs of our tribe
I remember the steaming chai cups as my aunt brings them up
Cahva was never an addiction but 13 cups didn't matter
I wonder if this bus is going to stop at the station in my village
and when I get off, the dirt of Balochistan fluttering away in the dry air and beautiful scent
would welcome me saying I was missed
or maybe the bus is taking me to that small street around my house
where I would see my siblings playing on their bikes
I would wave and wave
and like an invisible person I won’t be seen
I can feel my heart beat with anticipation
The bus has stopped,
Crowds of people getting down,
I get down
Scent of coffee from starbucks welcomes me first thing
I look around me to find a trace of home
Its all foreign and I am invisible
I am lost in time
Somewhere
Inbetween
and when the chilling air of Cambridge touches my face
I know that I cant take the longing anymore
Perhaps this is the limit where I breakdown
My heart shouts..... but my lips are silent
I walk ahead as if I am a normal person but my soul..... desperate for home, runs around in circles
Shouting and crying
and as I walk towards my next bus to MIT
I miss my home... VERY MUCH

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2 comments

  1. Dear Khalida, Thank you for sharing. In doing so, you open me/readers to a larger world that is difficult to imagine here in the U.S. Your writing is beautiful. Meeting you at the MLK Awards dinner was a blessing for me, and I look forward to seeing you this spring here in Colorado.

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  2. Very inspiring story Khalida , be strong

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