dear children of diaspora, i am thinking of you these days
only you could appreciate how it feels to return to the motherland and find that it will indeed embrace you, take you back, feed you, befriend you, ease away the awkwardness that has crept onto your tongue. only you could understand what it means to be surrounded by brown skin, to have your name said by those who know how it’s meant to be said, who know its meaning. only you could know the the relief that comes with not having to think about race and identity politics
i haven’t felt ‘poc’ or ‘woc’ or ‘muslim’ in the past few months. mostly just me
so, this is what privilege feels like
dear children of diaspora who escaped, when we return home, with our western passports and our western degrees, it is not the same
the motherland has been conditioned to embrace that which is english, and white, and foreign and whatever is close to that, so the motherland will embrace you. it will embrace you like it couldn’t before
and you will embrace it back. the privilege of mobility will allow you to fall in love with the motherland because you can leave it when it becomes too much. you don’t have to suffocate here
it is all so complicated, and it has so much to do with privilege, but oh does it feel good to finally feel wanted, to feel this place has been shaped to fit you in
Zehra Naqvi 
Being diaspora has always been the history of the world.
In broader spectrum, the world hereafter too.
But, hands on reality :mother is always a mother (mirror of God).Be her a motherland.
Anyway, always welcome n always love for all.
Stay blessed.
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This is a yearning I feel all too often these days, especially as a child of the diaspora who has never been to my home country. Your piece reads like a soothing salve where it hurts the most – so thank you.
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Thank you so much for your comment. I’m glad these words brought you comfort, and I hope you are able to visit your home country some day. 🙂
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