Read The Sun and Her Flowers Online
Authors: Rupi Kaur
advice i would've given
my mother on her wedding day
in a dream
i saw my mother
with the love of her life
and no children
it was the happiest i'd ever seen her
-
what if
you split the world
into pieces and
called them countries
declared ownership on
what never belonged to you
and left the rest with nothing
-
colonize
my parents never sat us down in the evenings to share stories of their younger days. one was always working. the other too tired. perhaps being an immigrant does that to you.
the cold terrain of the north engulfed them. their bodies were hard at work paying in blood and sweat for their citizenship. perhaps the weight of the new world was too much. and the pain and sorrow of the old was better left buried.
i do wish i had unburied it though. i wish i'd pried their silence apart like a closed envelope. i wish i'd found a small opening at its very edge. pushed a finger inside and gently torn it open. they had an entire life before me which i am a stranger to. it would be my greatest regret to see them leave this place before i even got to know them.
my voice
is the offspring
of two countries colliding
what is there to be ashamed of
if english
and my mother tongue
made love
my voice
is her father's words
and mother's accent
what does it matter if
my mouth carries two worlds
-
accent
for years they were separated by oceans
left with nothing but little photographs of each other
smaller than passport-size photos
hers was tucked into a golden locket
his slipped inside his wallet
at the end of the day
when their worlds went quiet
studying them was their only intimacy
this was a time long before computers
when families in that part of the world
had not seen a telephone or laid their
almond eyes on a colored television screen
long before you and i
as the wheels of the plane touched tarmac
she wondered if this was the place
had she boarded the right flight
should've asked the air hostess twice
like her husband suggested
walking into baggage claim
her heart beat so heavy
she thought it might fall out
eyes darting in every direction
searching for what to do next when
suddenly
right there
in the flesh
he stood
not a mirageâa man
first came relief
then bewilderment
they'd imagined this reunion for years
had rehearsed their lines
but her mouth seemed to forget
she felt a kick in her stomach
when she saw the shadows circling his eyes
and shoulders carrying an invisible weight
it looked like the life had been drained out of him
where was the person she had wed
she wondered
reaching for the golden locket
the one with the photo of the man
her husband did not look like anymore
-
the new world had drained him
what if
there isn't enough time
to give her what she deserves
do you think
if i begged the sky hard enough
my mother's soul would
return to me as my daughter
so i can give her
the comfort she gave me
my whole life
i want to go back in time and sit beside her. document her in a home movie so my eyes can spend the rest of their lives witnessing a miracle. the one whose life i never think of before mine. i want to know what she laughed about with friends. in the village within houses of mud and brick. surrounded by acres of mustard plant and sugarcane. i want to sit with the teenage version of my mother. ask about her dreams. become her pleated braid. the black kohl caressing her eyelids. the flour neatly packed into her fingertips. a page in her schoolbooks. even to be a single thread of her cotton dress would be the greatest gift.
-
to witness a miracle
1790
he takes the newborn girl from his wife
carries her to the neighboring room
cradles her head with his left hand
and gently snaps her neck with his right
1890
a wet towel to wrap her in
grains of rice and
sand in the nose
a mother shares the trick with her daughter-in-law
i had to do it
she says
as did my mother
and her mother before her
1990
a newspaper article reads
a hundred baby girls were found buried
behind a doctor's house in a neighboring village
the wife wonders if that's where he took her
she imagines her daughter becoming the soil
fertilizing the roots that feed this country
1998
oceans away in a toronto basement
a doctor performs an illegal abortion
on an indian woman who already has a daughter
one is burden enough
she says
2006
it's easier than you think
my aunties tell my mother
they know a family
who've done it three times
they know a clinic. they could get mumma the number.
the doctor even prescribes pills that guarantee a boy.
they worked for the woman down the street
they say
now she has three sons
2012
twelve hospitals in the toronto area
refuse to reveal a baby's gender to expecting families
until the thirtieth week of pregnancy
all twelve hospitals are located in areas with high south asian immigrant populations
-
female infanticide | female feticide