Daughter Triptych

So surely with hardship comes ease.

Surely, with hardship comes ease.

—Quran 94:5-6

 

١ 

After my first time, I dreamed of abortions. Some might have been mine: 

oblong pink pills, a curved door handle, wire hanger, unripe papaya. One night, 

I looked out from the eyes of Mary. A sharpened stake in our hand. Back 

against a date palm, no wail escaping her lips, no witnessing angel to interfere. 

Then I was elsewhere, watching Sarah, aged and exhausted. Her fingers pressed 

light against that slightest bulge. Her fingers curling. Her fingers pressing pressing 

pushing pummeling pounding. Her eyes closing. Not now not now not now then 

finally, her body acquiescing. A fate for daughters exacted upon sons. In sleep, 

I cramp. I cradle the part of me that begs to bloom. I wonder what might have 

happened—not if God had left us alone, but if we refused what He offered. 

٢

 

Shukr karo, uncle says, 

they used to bury daughters alive. 

Daughter to sister to wife to mother, my mother 

never slept alone. The first room of her own 

her grave. After her first time, her first 

bloom a daughter.

The Prophet said if you have daughters 

and do not bury them, or slight them, or prefer 

your sons to them, they will be a shield 

for you on the day of judgement. 

Uncle says a shame—with daughters come 

hardship. To Uncle she serves tea, nods.

I am not enough to prove otherwise. 

 

٣

 

A man came to see the Prophet and asked 

O Messenger! Who among people is most deserving of good treatment? 

The Prophet said Your mother. 

The man asked after her?

The Prophet said Your mother. 

The man asked and then?

The Prophet again replied Your mother. 

The man asked, then who? And 

the Prophet said Your father. 

A girl dreamed she stood before God so asked 

O Lord! And if my father mistreats my mother?