Submitted by: Inderbir Kaur
Author: Unknown

This poem shares the story of a young Sikh girl who was deceived into marrying a Muslim boy. It is written through her eyes and can be taken as a warning to other young Sikh girls who may be mislead into marrying men that beguile them with false charm and care.

Life in leafy Edgbaston was cosy, routine and without much bother,
Mummy and daddy where professional middle class,
I was at college study for my A levels,
I was shy and obedient but I wasn’t content,
I longed for excitement,
I wanted to live the world,
I wanted to be as bold as brass and that was my intent.
At college one day, a lad approached me, as he towards me,

I could see from afar around his neck, he wore the moon and stars
around his neck.
He was very persistent and sweet,
Told me I was beautiful from my head down to my feet.
In my innocence by this tender words I was fooled,
This Muslim boy loved me.
And the love for my own family cooled.

My stupidity lead me to follow western trends,
I allowed him to become my boyfriend,
He had me under his hypnotic spell,
What I was going to do next nobody could tell,
I moved from Edgbaston to Sparkbrook.
I longed to be with my one and only Farooq.
My life was to change completely,
Long gone where the afternoon tea parties with the ladies,
Long gone where my Mummy’s BMW and Daddy’s Mercedes,

I was soon getting on and off buses and trams,
As I struggled with a variety of prams,
I was his sweetheart no more,
Instead I had become his common whore.
From Edgbaston to Sparkbrook and then to living hell
That is Pakistan,

A distant memory now, but please believe me,
I had once stood shoulder to shoulder with my dear dad
and demanded khalistan.
Oh God
What have I done?

What has happened to me?
What have I become?
As I lay awake at night
There is nobody to even hear me cry,
My thoughts are unanswered, questions are my only escape,
Somebody, anybody! Please tell me?

Will I ever stand in the warmth of my kitchen again?
Will I ever feel the hug of dear Daddy’s strong arms?
Will my brothers ever fight and play and argue with me again?
Will I be there when my Mummy and Daddy grow old?
When my brother gets married will I be there to put the kalgi on his
pagh?
Will I ever again experience the sweet nectar that is Gurbani?
Will I ever share langar again?
Now there are no answers, only questions.

I have sown the seed of my own despair,
My life is in ruins, which nobody can repair,
My innocence, foolishness, kismet on me all have cheated,
I desperately want my previous boring life,
But I fear I am living in false hope,
In my heart of hearts I know that can never be repeated.
As I write these word in the unforgiving Pakistani heat,
Streams of sweat and tears run down my face,
I realise for me it is now too late,
Life has dealt me a cruel fate,
My living hell on my own I have to endure,
But I plead with my Sikh sisters that you make sure
Don’t be fooled by his looks and false allure.

Stay in the warmth of Sikh religion,
Maintain your family values,
Enjoy its rich culture, but unlike me don’t abuse its social freedom,
Ignore my advice at your peril,
But I beg you to take, a good long hard look at me,
A pitiful shambles I’m sure you will agree,
Happiness or even hope, I haven’t any,

But regrets………….

I have many