a place


how can I be in love with a land I have never stepped upon
a land I have obsessed over since the first breath I have taken

how can you not be infatuated with a place that created your essence?
a place that brought your mother and father together, passionately as one
a place the bleeds for thousands of years under the footprints of every invader who raped
a place that bears witness to the strength of your people who may be scattered,
scarred, but will never give into fear

how can you be dying to enter a hole that every man, woman, and child
is living to crawl out of
through feet, feral, trucks, broken boats, seas, smugglers, and more?

how can I not be madly in love with a place
of phantom pain
whose inheritance is a soothing ache from
never feeling the wet dust or dry tears,
and touching her,
raw and unclothed?




  1. Beautiful flow of feeling and thought, Sehar! Not sure you’re soliciting feedback, but as one who even more vicariously loves the place and people you write about, I’d love to see something here–an image, a place name, a reference–something that reveals to me unmistakably what place this is that claims your love. Thanks for sharing this!


    1. I welcome the feedback, thank you for suggestion. In the first draft, I had the name of the country written in a line. I opted to remove it because I want the experience of feeling detached from your home country, a home that is pilfered by others and one that you never had the chance to grow up in – to be a universal experience. That way, any reader can attach their own memory or connection to “their place”.


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