When it comes to giving money…
When it comes to giving money…
by Roszeen Afsar
Excuse the soul that cops to keep, robs to reap while knowing
That his rich-man’s card is gone and he’s gotta pay the taxes on
On the cars he keeps. Destroyed in greed. Exposed and been,
Eyes red-rimmed, holding bags of white dust, he’s become the fiend.
Fall through the hole in his heart and soar through for eternity.
Satan takes him apart, yet he lies in denial of what he sees.
Twelve-year-old Faiza is sitting in her grandparent’s living room among family. It’s a comfortable family occasion. Her uncle has just recently got back from his holiday in Dubai with his wife and kids. They have all come to visit today, bringing gifts – to her delight – for her and her siblings.
Faiza is the oldest; she has two younger brothers and a baby sister. In fact she is the oldest child in the room as her cousins are also around the same age as her brothers. This sets her apart among the children as she feels her place is among the adults. She sits and listens to their conversations while the younger children chase each other around the house. Faiza can barely hear the adults talking as the kids rush past. She gets up and hushes them, they run off upstairs. She then sits back on the sofa beside her mother and listens again.
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