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Presents from my Aunts in Pakistan (+ Annotations by

Sophie Brazier 11B)

They sent me a salwar kameez

peacock-blue,

glistening like an orange split open,

embossed slippers, gold and black

points curling.

Candy-striped glass bangles

snapped, drew blood.

Like at school, fashions changed

in Pakistan –

the salwar bottoms were broad and stiff,

then narrow.

My aunts chose an apple-green sari,

silver-bordered

for my teens.

I tried each satin-silken top –

was alien in the sitting room.

I could never be as lovely

as those clothes –

I longed

for denim and corduroy.

My costume clung to me

and I was aflame,

I couldn’t rise up out of its fire,

half-English,

unlike Aunt Jamila.

I wanted my parents’ camel-skin lamp –

switching it on in my bedroom,

to consider the cruelty

Join now!

and the transformation

from camel to shade,

marvel at the colours

like stained glass.

My mother cherished her jewellery –

Indian gold, dangling, filigree.

But it was stolen from our car.

The presents were radiant in my wardrobe.

My aunts requested cardigans

from Marks and Spencers.

My salwar kameez

didn’t impress the schoolfriend

who sat on my bed, asked to see

my weekend clothes.

But often I admired the mirror-work,

tried to glimpse myself

in the miniature

glass circles, recall the story

how the three of us

sailed to England.

Prickly heat had me screaming on the way.

I ...

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