The New Decision by Fahmida Riaz
Fahmida Riaz was one of the champions of women’s liberation in Pakistan and on International Women’s Day we are posting a translation of her longer poem ‘Naya Faisla’. This poem was included in her last collection of poetry ‘Tum Kabeer’ which was published in 2017, just a year before she passed away.
Translator’s note: The first part of the poem is a social history of what Pakistani women face on a daily basis from the forces of misogyny and patriarchy buttressed by feudalism and obscurantist religion, before the defiant tone struck by the victim in the second part, which is vintage Riaz. Perhaps we do need a Naya Faisla for Naya Pakistan!
‘The Voice
The earth is revolving
So is the sky
The paths to my home
Turning their back to me
The sky and earth leaping at me
Is it night or day
The wind is screaming
The horror-filled laughter roars far
Male Voices
We won’t spare her today
Great that she’s alone
Though we had our eye on her since long
Don’t you remember his brother who fights with us daily
How he swaggers daily
We will avenge him!
Trample on her
Crush her so that she never rises again
Ravage her skin
Tear her shirt
She screams a lot, just grip her feet and arms
She is screaming still, slap her
Her mouth full of blood
She won’t say anything now
Let’s take our fill
Take your turn after me
Morning turned to evening
But we didn’t tire
Some day she will remember how manly we were
One after the other, and she fainted
Throw her near the bush
Let’s run away somewhere
The Voice
Who is this who crawls over the earth
Who covers her body with some tatters
Whose semi-naked body is this
Which comes within the sharp gaze of passers-by
That this face drenched in blood and tears
Is telling a tale
Almighty God You know everything
There must be that home in some street which is hers
The Father
In this condition, why did you even return home?
Tossing our good name onto the square, our honour is lost
Why did your mother bear you, why did that wretch antagonize us so
Should I break her bones and limbs, she will pay for this
You lowered our mustache, who are you to us?
Don’t enter the door, go where you came from
Don’t call me baba, shouldn’t I rather pull your tongue?
Why did you reach this doorstep, there was a well too on the way
Laughing Voices
Come, come to us, we will give you a fair price
Your skin is fair, it can still provide some spice
Neighbours and Residents
Did you hear, did you see?
What happened with that girl?
We are honourable families
Protectors of daughters
She must have gone there on her own
Such were her activities
She looked so carefree
Wore a bangle in her arms
An earring flashing in her ears
The path she takes
You beware of its high stakes
Lest you bring dishonor on yourselves
Do not speak to her
The Resident Chaudhary
She has committed a crime, now this is plain justice
This is the heart’s order, a pristine tradition
Why should women blame the men for free
They provoke them, what even poor men can do
Look at these lips of hers, such a breast, this waist
Uff man is powerless, before this sinful invitation to taste
I have read carefully in Arabic books
If there are ten parts of desire, men have a mere two
A woman has eight
Engraved on hellfire, beyond count or estimate
Now the quarter has space for her no longer
Yes, should she clean my house, that is her choice
The Voice
There is neither an earth nor a sky now
Just your life, and this blind bottomless well
Only the blood-red dust flies far and wide
Speak O well, will you indeed accept her?
The Well Laughs
Come, fit into my arms, together we will flirt and pray
In my darkness are hidden society’s secrets astray
Who is who’s son, whose wealth accumulated by whom
Sunk in my black water is every account of birth and rebirth
My snakes and scorpions will together eat your skin in mirth
A gang of vultures will descend upon the mouth to pick your bones
The light of life will go out in your young eyes
Their beaks will take away the pearls of your pupils
The Girl Screams
Noooooo!!!
No, I will not give my life to your dark water
I will breathe and live until (the time) I can live
I will live on broken stones until I’m able
I can walk on these legs and my arms have strength
These poisonous snakes and scorpions cannot find me anywhere
For too long have you digested silence, listen to me, not today
I will not become bad news, will write my own (news)
In every street and quarter, I have to tell
I have not sinned, but have been wronged
The pundit, mullah, qazi, jirga, all are to blame
I am the daughter of this soil, will ride on the water-swing
I will wave like the hem of a mantle on the shore of the great lakes
If I fall, I will form into every particle of dust
Well of silence, you fixed the price of my life
Your words enter my ears like molten lead
Your weight was a lie, so was your word
The tears breaking off from my eyes will boil like a blaze
The tears breaking off from my eyes will boil like a blaze
The tears breaking off from my eyes will boil like a blaze
About the Translator: Raza Naeem is a Pakistani social scientist, book critic and award-winning translator and dramatic reader currently based in Lahore, where he is also the President of the Progressive Writers Association. He can be reached at: [email protected]
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