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Sadiqullah Khan

His Fortune

He played with his fortune
To escape the drudgery of life
His skin on a bony skull and skeletal frame.
I for the first time saw
A healed injury, a mark on the temple
When he shook his hand with me, I
Felt knuckles and fingers worked out.
How he would fare to the catastrophic middle,
He was making his own counts.
I knew his desires to live, to make a dash
A remarkable result, from a lean stature.
His eyes blinking, full of fears
Behind glasses,
Scary. And he said, that he had been too scared,
To tell a truth, worse than a lie. He was carrying
Twelve years of hard work
In a folder. He was broken to the bones.
An ‘e’ or an ‘E’ in a score,
Decided the fate
Against him. With his brilliant mind
He went too far ahead.
He had topped the university test.
Had the ‘e’ been ‘E’
He might have considered himself
The luckiest creature that existed on earth.
With a very heavy heart, I bade him farewell
Had I thought that ever I would treat him
A stranger. He going his way, I, mine?
Though I served all kudos to him, he asked for a hug
Before leaving. May be he wanted,
To coil like an infant, may be to sob.
May be, he thought, that he has been unworthy
May be he thought, he would not succeed in life.
He was in the gym lately,
Working his knuckles out.
I gave up myself to the grief, the suffering.
Am not I reading Franz Kafka these days?

On my son, Nosherwan’s visit to Islamabad on September 25,2013.

Sadiqullah Khan
September 25,2013.

Submitted: Saturday, October 05, 2013
Edited: Sunday, May 25, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Franz Kafka (1883-1924) @ Franz Kafka and letter Red Room

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