“Midday Melancholy” © Tiyas Som

 

My People Are Not Human

My people are all painted with the same brush,
They have planes for your towers,
Blood on their hands,
And guns in their pockets.

You should watch your back,
Look over your shoulders;
For although they have the same eyes as you,
The same teeth, hands and feet,
My people are scarcely human.

They will poke you, threaten you,
They will take away your jobs.
Settle down in your home,
And demand that you treat them right.

Beware! Their skin is not your skin,
Their intentions never pure,
They are dirty and impulsive,
They will repulse you.

So you should bomb my country,
Is it not an act of self defence?
Keep yours pure,
For if they touch it, the blot is hard to get rid off.

And take their pictures,
Label them as terrorists;
For the entire world should know,
My people are not human.

 

Momina Ijaz is a Pakistani writer whose stories and poems are greatly influenced by her country’s culture and all the good, the bad and the ugly which comes from it. Her work combines the personal and the political. A humanitarian at heart, she feels deeply for people.

Tiyas Som: “With a deep passion for capturing moments and telling stories through my lens, photography has become my true calling. From capturing the beauty of nature to the emotions of people, I strive to create images that evoke a sense of wonder and connection.”

“This photo showcases the remnants of Colonial India. Hand-pulled rickshaws were prevalent in parts of India during British rule. As time flew by, with the advent of modern vehicles these hand-pulled rickshaws started getting obsolete. In present years you can still see some of these rickshaws and rickshaw pullers in parts of Kolkata, India, although their numbers have gone down significantly.”