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Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory1

Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory2

Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory3

Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory4

Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory5

Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory6

Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory7

Sunara Begum, Travelling, Light & Memory8




Light was her fist love
Captured in a shadow
An infinite existence, parallel universe injected in the sphere of a conjunction
She laments her way through a corridor of theoretic punctuation, unknown where the
Similes and metaphors reside
She seeps beneath onomatopoeias
Finds herself, restores herself, and continues to seduce herself, reduced to an erring soul,

due to her illegitimate cell dysfunction, a singular sensation of a faulty gene


The jinn got her soul
The jinn got her soul
Asstakh firu Allah, the jinn got her soul


She sleeps in a place of sleeping
Paces herself, resurrects to a finite realm an innate cellar
Light is sealed and darkness is redeemed
She’s entered a box of darkness upon darkness that lives in a vast deep-sea
Overwhelmed with waves toped by waves topped by dark clouds
Darkness upon darkness

The jinn got her low
The jinn got her low
Asstakh firru Allah the jinn got her low


Her stretch arms, not visible to the human eye
Light prevailed and darkness was her solitude chamber of restating
She tries to lumber down a valley of arbitrary foundations of her mind to realise the
Neurotic expedition that once allowed her to speak with integrity


“This is not an ostentatious religious symbol, for it, is not a religious symbol at all”


Now lost in the judicious ownership of satanic infliction she finds no source of refuge in sins of lustful procreation


“awoo zoobillah himinash shaytan nirageem”


Her arms begin to shake they shudder as the ladder that was ruptured captured
Collapses before her very breath nothings left
Travelling through open gates
Sky envelops her; sun darkens traps her she drowns in empty sounds mourning for the echoing voices to repeat
Hollowing down the pineal gland, she waits paralysed, silenced,

becoming a figure of speech, motionless, mind awake she lakes to act react
Her position is the echoing sounds that vaporise down our fatal organs


In foetus position of a two dimensional image that we stumble on


Text by Shahanara Begum


Sunara Begum


Chand Aftara Studio




Chand Aftara Studio
Lagos Island



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