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‘THIS IS NOT A CURSE’ / ‘LIMBS’ / ‘ABBA’ / ‘THE STRUGGLE OF THE PATIENT’ / ‘LAUGHTER’ | five poems by Afra Adil Ahmad

Photo by Joshua Mcknight | pexels.com/

Read Time:4 Minute, 43 Second

This Is Not a Curse

On the day my daughter turns three
old enough to understand fragments of
the intricate theory of love, I will unfold
my prayer rug and proudly confess to her: 

this is where you beg
beg as if there's no tomorrow
beg without the hesitation of hoboes in front of the porticos of affluent businessmen
beg like a gale that would sabotage the plans of his perpetrators 
beg with a belief that you will be awarded what you're striving for

tell as if you would perish without telling
and then continue telling your Most Benevolent friend 
how your day went, how someone fibbed to you
what makes you burn in delight, what are your darkest fears

cry as if 
you have something
to cry for

this is how I will help her practise
for I know the intense years that will unfurl
she will have something or someone to cry for

this is not a curse, I swear
this is prayer in its purest form

for I know this world will break her too
the way it broke me, the way it broke my ancestors, so I have to 
help her long before she begins believing she's irreparable like pearls that know they can never go back to their celestial shells

but with God by your side
even the moon can be halved 

I will help her 
the same way my lovely mother did.

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