Sakina sees through her tears,

Sweat trickling down her mother’s temples,

As she puts meat on hissing grill,

Sakina sees through her tears,

Her mother’s submissive slumber

Being torched under the dishes,

Cooked overnight in large vessels,

Sakina sees through her tears,

 Her mother’s frail hands,

 Weighed down by the baking tray,

Sakina sees through her tears,

The jubilant congregation of men at mosque,

 And fear’s tentacles slithering in her mother’s bosom

To see the table ready on time for men,

 Returning home offering Eid prayers.   

………Dr. Fathema Begum