She was so weak
And frail
And she pushed
And pushed
Beyond her years
And regardless of her hopes
And prayers
A girl, (Insert name here).
She came and she cried
Remembering the old
And new
And unknown
And the bright light
In the middle of the night.
In a year unknown
Into an unsafe haven
Safe heaven
In the arms of
a woman
Better than even
what the world tried to hide
Tried to show.
In the mountains
In the forest
In the desert
In a place unknown
My girl, she cried for her
And hers
And everyone after because she knew not
what would happen so soon.
So soon.
For the freedom in a refugee camp
Is a freedom
And a safety
Imagined
Until you pick up and leave
and the poor girl barely smelled a fresh flower
And tasted sweet fruit
Before she learned how to flip rotis.
Before the chariot turned
And she saw him
Stagger
And scream
And fall
And the last words
That she read on his lips her name.
And he was gone.
Her father.
In a war before her time
In her time
In my time
In war we all fight
For the falsense
Of what we believe
Because we never could have started this peacefully
Because if you do–
do you like a challenge
I dare you
Play the world of business and politics
Fair
And I give you the crown, my King.
But what royalty is there
in us
in these veins of
dishonour
Not sacred red as they
smear
The earth.
But I bow only to Him
Not on this world
Greater than the blood and
Mortality in me and you.
And the blood and the mess
And the trauma
Never left her.
Never left me.
Three generations later
I could never refuse
To forget what was war
and what bloodshed
did
As I hug and smile at the right
And look away from the wrong
but I made sure I yelled
Even when they said they’ll press my throat
dry.
Because when they find out universally
Of the XX in us
The girl and her and her name
We are a stain you try to embrace
not a colour of the world
you should have been familiar of
raised with.
And you still refuse to see the paint
Of the paintings we all made
Except for you it’s red
Bloodred and the brown of the earth
And the black inside
Where only God sees
But I know
We were taught to know and never trust.
That is where we err
Everytime
And we do not err
And you do not correct
And then another girl
Pushes
And pushes
and out pops
A new cry
and we regret
when we should not
And we begin to cry everytime.
Rationale:
The Girl Gamble is about how women in South Asia and around the world were deprived of childhood, education and opportunity. They became victims of society and they still persist, regardless. This poem calls out to societies that shame girls instead of embracing them. The gamble is how people, even women, view having baby girls as a huge risk and liability instead of the beautiful gift they are. I, the poet, have actually performed this as a spoken word piece because it is such a close issue to me-having family torn apart by wars before my time but also understanding how society wages war on women. Through my poetry, I aim to raise awareness regarding such issues that are genuinely close to my heart.
Check out more of Aisha’s poetry here.
Aisha F. Khan
Please note that opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect the views and values of The Blank Page.
“Girl selling for Palm Sunday” by the photographer is licensed under CC by 1.0
