On my way to Pakistan for Easter break at the end of March, my watch (yes, my watch) got stopped at security. I took it off to put it in the scanner, and as I was gathering my things, I realised that it was not there. I panicked and looked at all the Bresis (British desis) around me suspiciously. When I asked the quite clearly Muslim, Brown Bresi (because they all look alike for some weird reason! I mean really. They do. I often see couples who could pass off as each other if they changed clothes, which is quite sick) where it was, he told me to get it from the main security desk.
Horrified with my ingrained racism against my own diasporic race, I went to the desk to pick it up. It was manned by lots of Bresis. When I asked for my watch, they asked me the most ridiculous of questions.
Bresi: Where did you buy this watch?
Me: In Lahore. In Pakistan.
Bresi: When did you buy this watch?
Me: Sometime last summer. Probably August or September.
Bresi (holding watch from me suspiciously and concealing it): What brand is it?
Me: Swatch.
Bresi nods: Yes. Now why did you buy this watch?
Me: Why did I buy the watch?
Bresi: Yes, why did you buy the watch?
Me: Are you serious?
Bresi: …
Me (now exasperated and feeling more racist than ever against Bresis): Is this because it’s a Brown watch?
The watch was meekly handed over. On my way back, I requested to be seated next to Pakistani passport holders. I mean really Bresis! When will you become normal people?
And now here’s a rather terrible but relevant poem by an exasperated person who is aspiring to be a Bresi. They’re quite clearly trying to copy my style as you can see, but falling flat on their face. [Please note use of the singular they− I am not referring to multiple people and deliberately concealing the gender of this wretched soul. Do you think it’s a male or female? I think it’s wonderfully androgynous.]
Rejected and Deceived
Rejected and deceived,
We are told not to enter because
We will never leave.
This is the sin
Of being a Paki.
This is the crime
Of being brown.
This is the retribution
Of being victims of the Taliban.
At home I’m an infidel,
One who refuses to conform
To this Shariah created
By the Wahabis,
Sitting comfortably on thrones
In Saudi.
They are the ones who are responsible for this,
This militant brand of Islam.
They are the ones who are pouring money
Into tribal ignorance.
They are the ones.
They are the ones
Encouraging these men to behave
In a manner so horrifying,
So violent,
That it makes you want to kill them
In return.
Paki:
Filthy
Dirty
Get out of my country.
Leave.
Hey Nice work and I am sorry to hear that…I can certainly understand your feelings Not only you,many people fight against this cancer for decades.We are living in a world of wars.War between counties,races,religions,families and even persons.Peace doesn’t exist and there is no justice,we need Saints.’Racism’is an inevitable evil and incurable.We can speak about it,we can write poems about it because diagnosis is easy but treatment?As i said its incurable…..
Comment by antomaniax — April 21, 2009 @ 8:52 pm |
‘At home I’m an infidel,
One who refuses to conform
To this Shariah created
By the Wahabis,
Sitting comfortably on thrones
In Saudi.’
Nice! That pretty aptly captures the predicament quite a few people like me find ourselves in Pakistan.
Comment by Ali — April 24, 2009 @ 5:17 pm |
Your poem pulls at my heart strings. Not all of us in the western world are plugging our ears to the cries of desperation from the eastern and middle eastern world.
Right now, in fact, on my blog, we’re discussing arranged marriages. I’m trying to open the minds of my mostly-western-world teen readers to the idea that cultural differences can and should be respected. I’d love it if you’d pop over to my blog and add your comment.
You’re a talented poet. Have your poems been published yet, I mean, in hard-copy?
Comment by Mechelle Fogelsong — October 8, 2009 @ 10:43 am |