This is an edited version of a poem I've been working on:
Make Love not War
Two women
One from the North of England
Saleha was her name
her parents good Muslims from Pakistan
she scattered Yorkshire vowels
drove a red, convertible babe-magnet
The other, her lover
from the South
we’ll call her Sangeeta,
her parents good Hindus from India
with a good Hindu daughter
Concentrating on work
Never chasing the boys
That summer
London basked in the sun
We jumped in the back of Saleha’s
Triumph Toledo
while Sangeeta sat in the front
licking ice-cream
Suggestively
They wore matching dresses to Gay Pride
eagerly exchanged gold-coloured Sony walkmans
These star (and crescent) crossed lovers
dismissed the divide of respective religions
risked wrath with their rainbow alliance
My mother
Her parents good Catholics from Ireland
Walked into this tableau
These two poster girls for ‘the life’ impressed and charmed her
Their joy disarmed her
Their smiles showed in her eyes
But on learning that Saleha was Muslim
and Sangeeta – as we call her - was Hindu
My mother’s forehead
became furrowed
and she frowned
it must be difficult
she murmured
remembering her life
at their age
when she could not
bring a Protestant boy
to a home
bloated with Blessed Virgin Mary’s
crammed with crucifixes
replete with rosaries
a happy ending
was needed for the
urban fairytale
of Saleha and Sangeeta
her eyes brightened on finding
a commonality none could deny
a hint of triumph entered her voice
the answer?
their gender - the same
that’s all.
Maybe she was right
Maybe we need our own ‘Army of Lovers’
fighting religious discord
laying down - not their lives for their brothers
but their bodies for each other