MATHEMATICS: TRY AND CALCULATE ME
by NAZEEFA AHMED (Canada)
Issue 2.3 December 2020
Audio: Nazeefa Ahmed reads
Mathematics: try and
calculate me. Determine
the set values of my
Mathematics: solve algebraically,
the coordinates forming my
Mathematics: prove me
with your trig identities, and
try to figure out
the complexity of my
Mathematics: follow your
order of operations, your
methodical foundations, and
place a definition beside
You, derive logic from chaos, and
reason from digits,
find limits contained in one-tenth of a minute;
angles from slopes, and
side lengths from tangents.
your obsession with accuracy, your
fails to interpret the vastness of
You, look at me
with frustration, only seeing an
unsolved equation, so
you restrict my domains, and
quantify my range, and
graph my inequality so
my values may never change, and
bound my beauty between greater than and less than;
you look at me and see someone to solve, to prove, to sketch, and
you try to classify my incongruities
by using probability to predict my inconsistencies.
You may illustrate and extrapolate,
and verify after you evaluate,
but your rational mind can’t stretch far enough
You, desperately try to explain,
where my parabola is on your Cartesian Plane, but
am still the unsolved variable to your
my solutions having
no constant definition.
Mathematics, my values are beautifully miscellaneous
but you just call them extraneous, because you
fail to understand that my beauty wasn’t planned.
It can’t be plotted point by point on your stern command.
Your maximums and minimums will not sway where I stand.
describe me by rearranging digits from zero to nine, but
the square of my values blows up your calculator every time.
With the real number system,
I cannot be confined.
Mathematics, you may try to
bound me in a right-angled triangle with
ninety-degree vision, and
Pythagorean precision, but
a² and b²will never equal c²
because the hypotenuse
and points, telling me
that I require no proof to become an identity,
that I am unpredictable, thriving in my spontaneity,
that my beauty is too massive for you to try and
and calculate me.
Nazeefa Ahmed, age 17, is a high school creative writer and spoken-word artist who loves the art of written language more than life itself. She is a child of Bangladeshi immigrants currently living in the snow and slush of Calgary, Alberta. This piece represents her logical and emotional personalities and her attempt at reconciling these two extremes.