Sumaiya Inayat

Edition XXIII

A Modern Glitch - by Sumaiya Inayat (Photo by Clem Onojeghuo)Photo credit: Clem Onojeghuo

A Modern Glitch

By Sumaiya Inayat

It is that thing
which rests somewhere
in the corner of your cerebrum
or perhaps beneath it
where from rises your emotional being

It awakens slowly
like a serpent
slithering at first
and then coiling around your heart,
your senses
in a firm, almost paralyzing grip

It is that thing
which rises
when you see that woman
with eyes peering from behind the black veil,
who appears from nowhere
and speaks to you a tongue you half understand,
you can very well make out the word ‘miskeen’
and yet choose to fasten your pace

in walking away from her
you won’t let the plea in her eyes
win over your cynicism

It is that thing
which rises
when that keeper of the parking lot
with unkempt kameez
and rugged hair

chats with your four year old
and offers treats
while you load the trunk of your car

It is that thing
which rises
when you go out by yourself
and the elevator stops
at a random floor
and a bulky stranger steps in,
your mind is numbed by
thoughts creeping up
of all that could go wrong,
till the doors slide open and you rush out.

It’s that thing
which rests somewhere
in the corner of your cerebrum
or perhaps beneath it,
fueled by the animated gesture
of that crime show’s host
and nurtured by those
horrendous  news reports,
it thrives, incessantly

~Suspicion, it’s the thing
we wear on our sleeves
The thing that
lives with us, the urban folk.


Return to the top