You Belong Here
by Mariam Ahmed
At a sticky café table in Karachi,
my father’s voice mingled with the city's:
Picture a fountain—
pigeons pecking, gray
against the bright plume of peacocks,
two worlds never touching.
But one pigeon, captivated by colors,
dreamed of joining their dance.
The others laughed,
called it foolish,
but the pigeon gathered
fallen peacock feathers,
pinned them to its plain wings,
and with this patchwork of pride
approached the bright flock.
The peacocks saw through the disguise,
the false feathers falling,
and cast the pigeon out,
their contempt sharp as their tails.
Rejected, it turned back to its own—
only to find it too was a stranger there,
mocked for its longing, for daring to change.
Alone, it wandered,
belonging to neither sky nor ground.
In the heat, I wondered—
Why did the pigeon stay,
and not fly far away?
I am the pigeon, or the peacock,
or some other bird entirely,
lost in the branches of this tangled belonging.