when i look at you

Pritheva Zakaria

Inspired by New York, New York (Brooklyn Bridge) 2014 by Tseng Kwong Chi

you ask me what i see

when i look at you

so will you listen when i say

i’m reminded of my father?

the one who left his village

the one who is a martyr?

you came into the city

like he once did

your eyes painted with stars

but mixed with a little dread

1996 in nyc

it was something like a vintage dream

when dad hopped off the plane

there was no familiar face around to blame

when i look at you

i wonder if you were scared

in those first few fleeting moments

did you wonder if your family back home cared?

father traveled over 7,000 miles

with nothing but a suitcase

when i look at you

i wonder if you wore your best suit, for the view

in that moment

when i look at you

i know you felt bigger than the sky

larger than the view

if happiness is a butterfly

then you’re bigger than that too

as i enter the city

where abbu once slept on the floor

i’m reminded of greatness

and that my name means so much more

everyone around here has a story to tell lately

immigration is infinity, but only now do people have the words to share

by foot, plane, boat

screaming, crying, laughing

every millisecond of emotion collected into bags and ripped-up clothes

you all came here leaning on the skin of your teeth, the bones in your body, and maybe even your

own version of prose

but no one knows my baba’s tale

of growing up and breaking down

just to find himself and more again

his story is mostly new

because just like him

people everyday cross that cold sea

with little to nothing, just to see

so when you ask that old familiar question of

what you see when i look at you

i see a fairly old

an ancient yet trendy tale

a mostly new but old story

of Mohammed Zakaria’s view