To Mum, Dad, Jashmina, and all my siblings: A poem 

I think of all those times 

when the pages of an unspoken history 

were written just for us 

since creation; we were the syllables 

of God’s first word 

How we took all the opposites 

by their horns; it was meant to be; 

A paradise torn apart 

For love finds replenishment in its division 

God’s first family can be pillars 

of a temple with too many segregating walls 

only to keep evil at bay 

A maze is never razed 

Somehow stars find their way 

for the ages to fall in place 

And God’s universe is only lace, 

a race; no matter who comes first 

We were non-starters and finishers 

We finished last and won God’s heart 

Kingdoms are not just for their kings 

but for their kingmakers, who own it all 

And all those puzzles have answers 

that are silent and unheard, but make fate 

never break anyone’s date