O’ Father

You were supposed to be my protector, O’ father

Why, then, did you commit my murder, O’ father?

Why did you bring me into this world to begin with?

If this was the end I was to suffer, O’ father?

You were to show justice, kindness and mercy to me

How did you become my torturer O’ father?

I looked to you as my guide, my model, my mentor

How did you end up my tormentor O’ father?

Did your fingers feel weak crushing my windpipe

As you pressed them harder and harder, O’ father?

You were so insistent that I cover my self up completely

Like me in a shroud, in a coffin, six feet under, O’ father?

Wasn’t it you who brought me here to this cold, distant land

With strange norms, morals and alien culture, O’ father?

A plant takes up nutrients from the soil that it’s planted in

I bloomed where you transplanted me gardener, O’ father?

Did you not see the affect of the change of climate here

Did you not see the influences I was under, O’ father?

Did you ever feel isolated, a stranger in this land

How you coped with the situation, I wonder, O’ father?

Even though you cut my life short, alas! I pray to God

That you may live for a long, long time here after, O’ father?

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Akbar Khan

Toronto, Canada

December 13, 2007