The Internal Eye Zahra Sohail Mukhi
chapter one
A verbal invite to enter these homes. Jumping over the wall, is no joke. Creeping through gaps, is no joke. Invasion, is no joke. Homes are private fortresses To keep bad omens out, to allow chosen people in. No surprises remain. It is all straight, grey, linear. Brown, grey, green- from nature
Concrete laden with steel, metal, glass; Blends in, in the age of fear. Borders exist within galis, neighborhoods, cities. Hard ones, that cuss and stand ďŹ rm and look at us with anger and arrogance. Never letting us through. The us that is the Other.
chapter two
This is mine, this is yours. This is mine times two, This is yours minus one. My tree, my bricks, your road, my space, your space. You are not welcome, I will create obstacles in your way. You are not welcome. This space is not open. It is a border between me and those who are not me.
chapter three
I see the wind whistling past. I see the dust rolling about. I see cycles buzzing past. I see cars and bikes going places. I do not move from my place in the concrete I was made to be all-seeing. The concrete wears me down. My bones are brittle. I cannot be all-seeing without an aid.
The Internal Eye