Searching For- Qismat In- ⚡

Like the word hello from a voice you have never heard before, asking, without knowing it, to be remembered. — End of piece —

But the preposition that follows— in —is the hinge upon which the whole search turns. Searching for- qismat in-

One night, you do. The phone rings once, twice. A voice you don’t recognize answers: “Hello? Who is this?” A child’s voice. A boy, maybe five years old, speaking a language you cannot place. You hang up. Like the word hello from a voice you

Because qismat, in the end, is not something you find. The phone rings once, twice

The walls are the color of worn toothpaste. Fluorescent lights hum a note just below hearing. Your mother is in room 317. The doctor has used words like palliative and months . You are not listening. You are watching a janitor mop the same square of linoleum for the tenth time. He wears headphones. His lips move silently to a song you will never know.