Zaleekhah walks along the Chelsea Embankment in 2018, her feet carrying her through a drizzly London morning. Clutched in her hands is a damp cardboard box containing a mishmash of items: books, a china teapot, mismatched cups, clothes, and a Tiffany-style lamp. The rain, soft and steady, doesn’t seem to bother her as she walks in the cool air, her chestnut curls and deep brown eyes gleaming with a connection to her ancestors. As she moves past the elegant flats now overlooking the River Thames, she recalls the slum that once occupied this space, now turned into a luxurious area with commanding views. Though the property might seem like a dream for most, she finds the Thames unremarkable, far less interesting than the houseboats moored nearby.

The houseboats on Cheyne Pier, each uniquely named, serve as Zaleekhah’s new home. Moving to one of these boats feels surreal to her, as if it’s a fresh chapter in her life, despite the baggage she carries. Known as Dr. Z. Clarke in her professional capacity, Zaleekhah has always had a difficult relationship with her name. Over the years, her name has been mispronounced or misrepresented countless times, adding to her sense of estrangement. Recently, a colleague dismissed her full name with a casual nickname, a slight that stings deeper than she allows others to know.

Her name, given to her by her mother, connects her to the complex history of Zuleikha, a woman often portrayed negatively, representing the struggles of desire, punishment, and emotional complexity. Unlike her namesake, Zaleekhah strives for simplicity, rejecting vanity and choosing comfort over outward beauty. The name symbolizes both the rich heritage of her family and the burdens placed upon her by expectations that sometimes feel too heavy to bear. Her mother’s choice to pass down this name, rooted in their Mesopotamian heritage, connects her to her ancestors, while her father’s quiet acceptance of it speaks to his more passive relationship with the past and their shared culture.

As Zaleekhah approaches her new home on the boat, her thoughts are clouded by recent emotional upheaval. Her recent breakup with her husband, combined with the haunting remark he made about her future as a mother, amplifies the sense of failure she feels. Living alone on the houseboat is both liberating and lonely, as it serves as a constant reminder of her disconnection from both her family and herself. Her struggles reflect the ongoing immigrant experience passed down through generations, constantly battling the desire to belong while feeling alienated from everything around her. This complex web of emotions, compounded by her need for connection, makes her feel isolated despite her best efforts to move forward.

Upon stepping inside her new home, Zaleekhah surveys the sparse furnishings and weathered walls. The conditions of her boat mirror the state of her life — old, neglected, but still with the potential for renewal. Despite the simplicity of the space, there’s an undeniable pull of spontaneity in her choice, an attempt at breaking free from the routines that have bound her. However, as she sits in her solitude, dark thoughts creep in, and she begins to reflect on the internal battles she’s been fighting. The metaphor of water, a powerful force that both nourishes and erodes, becomes central in her contemplation of life, as she imagines her own struggles flowing in the Thames outside. The weight of her unresolved emotions presses heavily on her chest, and for the first time in years, she entertains the thought of ending it all. As the rain continues to fall, Zaleekhah plans a quiet departure from life in a month, hoping to reclaim some sense of peace, but fearing she will never reconnect with the familial belonging she desperately craves.

Drenched in inner turmoil and weighed down by societal expectations, Zaleekhah exists in a constant state of flux. Her identity, formed by a delicate balance between cultural legacy and personal ambition, seems to hang in the balance as she navigates through emotional pain and disillusionment. At this critical juncture, she faces a crossroads: the urge to retreat into herself and let go of the burdens she carries, or to confront her fears and continue searching for purpose. This conflict within Zaleekhah speaks to the universal struggle of reconciling one’s past with the demands of the present and the future. As she lies awake at night, the sound of the river outside her boat serves as both a comfort and a reminder of the depths of her struggle.