A daughter of Kabul, to a daughter of Gaza.
I never told you this,
but I know what it sounds like
when the sky opens its mouth too wide.
My mother also promised rain.
She told my sisters
that with pain comes gain.
We giggled ourselves to sleep
on thin carpets
while the mountains held their breath.
One morning,I was seven
my father left for bread
and the sky came down
like a thousand sharp fingers.
Not rain.
Not the soft kind she sang about.
It was a shower, she called it later
like it was something you could stand under
and come out clean.
But I remember the noise.
The way my ears went blind.
The way my little sister laughed
because she thought it was fireworks,
and I let her believe it
for three full seconds
before I grabbed her hand
and we ran
and ran
and ran
and the ground kept shaking
like it was trying to throw us off.
We hid in the stairwell.
My mother's voice was a thread
pulling through the chaos
stay down, stay down, stay down
and I held my sister's mouth
with my whole palm
so she wouldn't cry out
and give us away to the sky.
When it stopped,
the dust was so thick
I could taste my own lungs.
We crawled out
and my mother was still there,
still standing,
still promising
that everything comes from the sky,
that those who wait for good
will always deserve it.
She never said what kind of good.
I'm telling you this
because I heard your name today
on a crackling radio
in a neighbor's house.
They said Gaza is raining again.
They said children are stretching out their hands.
And I thought of you
a girl I've never met,
a girl with a different sky,
a girl who also woke up hungry
and smiling wide
because her mother promised rain
would arrive before her.
I know what you saw this morning.
One big drop.
Sharp noise.
Everyone yelling—even your mother.
She told you rain made people happy.
You stretched out your hand
to touch the falling drop.
I know, little one.
I did the same.
And the rain that fell
was not the kind that grows things.
I want to tell you it gets softer.
That one day the sky will remember
it was meant to hold only clouds and birds.
But I'm still waiting for that rain
the real kind
and I'm seventeen now,
and the mountains still hold their breath,
and my little sister
still flinches at loud sounds,
and my mother still says
with pain comes gain
like a prayer she's not sure she believes.
But here is what I do know:
You are not alone in the noise.
I am holding my hand out too
not to catch what falls,
but to reach across the dust
and find yours.
We are both daughters
of mothers who promised rain.
We are both waiting
for the sky to remember
what it owes us.
Stay low. Stay alive.
And when it stops
when it always stops
look for the ones who are still standing.
They will be your new family.
I promise.
Like my mother promised rain.
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Wow, this poem was heartfelt. As someone also from Afghanistan, although I didn't grow up there, I was constantly surrounded by news of airstrikes or an attack of some kind occuring in Kabul where most of family still live. This poem really touched me.
It connects the tragedy of one place to another, it analogises this innocuous euphemism of rain, uniting these dark situations to make them just the slightest bit brighter. That the girl in Gaza, and her family and people, they are not alone, and there is hope.
It is written in a simple, colloqiual style, that fits the subject matter. When such danger and worry is being spoken of, who cares about uniformity or formal poetic registers. This natural and frantic voice is far more effective and viseral a carriage to carry such a message.
It's all written so effectively, not a stanza is wasted. A long and elaborate connected metaphor that remains until the closing line, constantly reinforced and built with vivid imagery and drenched with emotion.
If this is yourself you are writing about, I hope you are doing well today, and I hope God brings nothing but the best for our watan in the future. Tashakur/manana. Khuda hafiz/Khuday paaman.
Very powerful poem, it reminds me so much of ground zero that combined with Afghanistan. How they were all mad and they were trying to find the Tailband but it tormented the innocent people.. this hits hard. Beautiful.
Thanks
This is one incredibly powerful piece of poetry. I read it once and then read it out loud to my partner, who agreed that it made an incredible impact. As I read it, I could feel the terror behind the words. It made me feel so angry at what has happened in the world and what is still happening. And also gratitude that I have never faced this kind of adversity. I hope you and your family are safe now and doing well. I wonder if you might find a literary magazine or journal that would be interested in publishing this?
You painted an incredible picture with only words. The poem's structure uses stanzas of varying lengths, which mirrors the uncertain rhythm of these attacks and the dread, anxiety, and terror that come with them. The motif of the rain that is threaded throughout is sadly beautiful. In my country, it rains all the time, and we all moan about it and wish for sunshine. It is very eye-opening that something we have an annoyance with is something others wish for. Because real rain is better than the rain you experienced from the skies.
Skorpionne already found the grammatical error I was going to point out, so I won't include any of that stuff.
<3 keep writing!
Nice review,thank you for reading it.I did it as part of my advocacy
The only words that I said after reading this poem are, "I'm sorry. Who ever is facing that out there, they are very very strong. And for now, it is not rain dear, but it will be one day."
Thank you
This is a stunning piece of work. The feeling in it is so deep and rich and heart-breaking. I love the mixture of intense lyricism and simple direct address, it makes the connection between these two girls feel so intimate, even across so much distance.
I honestly have barely any criticisms. I think the last line might work better moved to the beginning and/or title, and you've got a missing space in 'One morning,I was seven', but that's pretty much it.
These were real stand-out lines, to me:
Thank you so much for sharing this with us. I am going to be carrying it in my heart for a while, I think.
Yeah I will fix that.Thank you for reviewing it.
I had full body chills the entire time I read this. Wow. Just... really gorgeous work, really, really wonderful. I might come back and leave a review, but for now I wanted to say you really moved me with this. Thank you for sharing
Thanks