a match gone mad

goes like this:

midwest sun a match gone mad,

Girl aflame to boot.

plucks tears leaves from

basil plant (dead) on windowsill

for optimistic pesto.

needs more mirch, Girl says, as

many things here do:

potatoes, halibut, presbyterians.

call it a general rule.

like, how Abu says bismillah before khana.

yeah, that Allah, the one who

etch-a-sketched a dying hindustan,

then shook it into pieces. became

reluctant deity of no boys,

                      no drugs

& absolutely no short-shorts notoriety.

(Girl tries all three).

like, how Mama burns incense for

the ancestors ‘cross the ocean. prays

they’ll deign to possess her new home.

Girl sees godly bodies drifting

                                  chit peng,

                                    har peng —

asks if they’ll fetch her back to Penang,

where she might eat the haram meat

in the wonton mee, no questions asked.

like how all hypocrites go to hell.

where Girl might go, if it’s true

that one can eat a sin.

goes like this:

the worst thing Girl puts in her mouth

(a green chili,

that sears with the heat

of June in Lahore)

is followed by the best.

a ream of mango pulp

to nurse the wicked wound,

a sweetness known to her alone.

Alia Ai-Ming Tehzeeb Shahzad

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a key

bismillah – in the name of god [an invocation, arabic]

mirch – spice [of the green chili, sambal palate, urdu]

khana – food [our lifeblood, urdu]

chit peng & har peng – here & there [and together, everywhere, hokkien]