mother—stretched and looming
her face like a canvas above my bed
a frozen mirror
bathing me in guilt
pulling her daughter to places
so many places I don’t want to go
but that never matters because
lohk kee kahingey if we don’t show up
nodding happy hanging sad
carefully matching expressions of other women
emotions silently in unison because
lohk kee kahingey if we don’t commiserate
we stuff dollar bills into envelopes
for dowries engagements weddings
schooling poor cousins because
lohk kee kahingey if we are not generous
we slip loose change
into donation boxes
as we kneel bow pray
at the gurdwara beside brass vases
fake flowers burning incense
lohk kee kahingey
if we don’t offer enough
to old gods of new temples
the sound of long-distance phone calls
parents yelling booming trying to fill
the awful distances between here
and there between us and them
we mumble hellos and goodbyes
to uncles and aunts who are faint memories
eroding memories no memories
because lohk kee kahingey if we don’t
stay connected to land that was once
home that still throbs under our dark skin
and binds our lives to rules
so many rules that don’t
make sense for us any more
but lohk kee kahingey
if we give up traditions customs culture
so we tighten our turbans and put away
scissors and razors and tether wives and bridle
our children and arrange houses and lives
and marriages in the Indian way
the Punjabi way the Sikh way
because lohk kee kahingey
if we look sound live
like our neighbours lohk kee kahingey
when we become them
Moni Brar
Moni Brar is an uninvited settler on unsurrendered territories of the Treaty 7 region and the Syilx of the Okanagan Nation. She is a Punjabi, Sikh Canadian writer exploring diasporan guilt, identity, cultural oppression, and intergenerational trauma. She believes in the possibility of healing through literature. Her work appears in PRISM international, Hart House Review, Existere, The Maynard, untethered, and other publications.
