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.