Letter to my daughter

My little mongrel,

You don’t exist yet. So far, your mother’s egg didn’t date my best swimmers. I didn’t even meet the woman you may one day call mom.

But I can picture you already. I can picture your pretty stubborn face, your mischievous eyes and your naughty smile.

My little mongrel,

I want to apologize for the world you're going to find when you get here.

A world of screamers and bleaters. A world of spoiled brats who break everything they touch. And believe the Earth is a buffalo chicken wing they can suck to the bone.

A world where only a few have real access to happiness. While the rest is left fighting and dying for a football game or a barrel of oil.

A world where a mother’s only ambition is to find a nest for her daughter. So she can in turn become a mother. Where a father’s sole aspiration is to get under the skirt of the raunchy neighbor with big boobs.

A world where men are so afraid of women, they’ll do everything to keep their illusive power, like good old arab dictators.

My little mongrel,

I'll have the privilege watching you grow. Watching the playful baby turn into an ungrateful teen, then into a beautiful and divine woman.

Yes, divine.

And the hell with those who believe that God is a bearded chauvinist. Those who confuse love, marriage and slavery. Those who forget that without women's rights there can be no human rights.

My little mongrel,

Promise me to never forget your absolute right to happiness.

I don’t mean the make-believe happiness that fills our TV screens. Where people come begging for a little attention, for a brief moment under the sun, for a lousy applause and a cheap cheer.

Happiness comes down to one simple word : Be.

Live your dreams. All of them. Always dare. Love. Create.

But I must warn you, it will not be easy. Because all those who missed their train will go out of their way to make you miss yours. They will tell you about comfort. About security. About husbands and children. About tax and mortgage. Inviting you into the cozy prison of their uneventful life.

But don’t worry. I will always be here, by your side, sword in hand.

We’ll tell them to fuck off. We’ll laugh at their mediocrity. We’ll cry when your heart gets roughed up. And get drunk to celebrate your first successful date.

Together we will conquer the world. A world according to you. The only world worth living in.


© Claude El Khal, 2011