By Nabeeha Jalali
12th grade | Salem High School | Michigan
Finalist, Global Health category
With lines from “Acid Attacks: Pakistan’s Worst Social Epidemic” by Laiba Mubashar and Muhammad Wasay Mir, a Pulitzer Center reporting project
Where particles
Creep
Whispering secrets to the curious
Fingers adorned with latex, barriers against the
Unknown,
My hands choke,
Trapped and Suffocated
Submerged in incense and masala
Pigments of Eid celebration
Everywhere
Kurta-clad women
Jubilant laughter
Henna-painted hands
Joy and Liberation
Like a gentle mist, fatigue
Drowns me
Ink splotches pollute my skin
Our final paper before Eid
Until my release from this
Dingy laboratory
My embellished gharara
Engulfs me
Stomach bursting with gol gappe
And samosas
Yet fatigue does not dim my dance
Across Karachi’s labyrinthine alleys
Suddenly,
A man
Screeched
“Sunno sab logh.
Attention class.”
“Apni badla chaiye,
Revenge will be mine”
Bottle in his hand
He pours
He hurls
Glassware clinks
A delicate vial holding the nucleus of
Discovery
My eyes gleam like untold
galaxies
Glass shatters
Shards rain, daggers forged from hatred’s
Flame
Acid’s villainous caress
Its corrosive tides devour
My skin
Then,
The man
Declared
“Dekho, acid aur metal ki milna.
Look, the acid and metal react.”
“Tu meri nai ban sakhti,
To pir tu kisi bi nai ban sakhogi.
If you cannot be mine,
You cannot be anyone else’s
either.”
Chalk conducts its cacophony
On to the board
As I fixate on
Magnificent molten magnesium
In the flask
Enchanted in every atom’s
Mystery
My nani’s bangles
Scorch into my arms
Serpents coiling my wrists
She said this heirloom Would become a part of me| I don’t think she meant
Like this
Perhaps,
Had I not rejected
My hypothesis,
My love for academia
Would not have gushed
But rather pooled as well-water
Stagnant
Muddled
His marriage proposal,
Venom’s kiss would still rot
My soul
But at least my petals would
Remain intact
Mama’s tears, a lighthouse
Silent yet clear
“Raheela Raheem,
Ranked top of her class”
Mama’s summer rains
As her sacrificial gardens
Finally bloomed
“Patient 192”
Mama’s hurricane crumbles
No longer seeing herself
In her precious
white jasmine
In the mirror,
A God-destined chemist
Looming before me
My now-isolated eye
Trembles
Baba’s eyes nearly shut
But the moon peeks
As he resists, wielding his pen
To illuminate comprehension from my
Confusion
To me,
Education is the beacon to buying Baba
The palace he
Deserves
Baba’s grown into a
Willow tree
Branches forever drooping
As his flowers lost their home
Axed away by my boundless
Medical bills
My dreams
In reach
Obliterated
Nabeeha Jalali is a senior at Salem High School in Canton, MI. While poetry used to be an intimidating subject for Nabeeha, her English teacher, Mrs. Foster, made it much more welcoming. As a Pakistani-American, Nabeeha uses poetry as her outlet to spread awareness on issues that affect those of her ethnicity. She is excited to continue representing her background and aid others as a physician through the University of Missouri - Kansas City’s 6-Year B.A./M.D. program.
Read more winning entries from the 2024 Fighting Words Poetry Contest.