FREE VERSE|LETTER FROM AN AFGHAN GIRL TO HER TALIBAN CAPTORS

On January 27, 2025February 16, 2025 By Mahvash K. M.In Afghanistan, Politics, truth, writingLeave a comment

This is a tribute to all the women in fact who are oppressed, reduced and shamed in the name of religion, and who still find the strength and dignity to go on another day.

O Talib*, O ye self-professed Learned One,

I have something to say to you.
You can whip up monsters from the air and call them your Shariah*.
You can torture and mangle “your” women, break their spirits and their bodies and call it the Word of God.
You can wear your imperious lungee* and as it swishes around in the wind, you imagine the very angels dancing around you.
You grow your hairy beards, and hide your malevolent grins behind them.
You rumble and you roar and that is your devotion.
You maim and you kill and you call that Divine intervention.

But then secretly you also glance at your reflections and you see what we all see: imperfect, angry, reviled men trying to validate their existence in the only way they can - by wiping the planet clean of the scourge of the Double (H)Ex*. But then you pause with the greatest effort known to the Men of God and you think:
How can we annihilate this evil, garbed in soft flesh if we are to propagate and procreate? How else are we to add to the rank and file of Allah’s soldiers?

The conundrum is excruciating. So you continue to brutalize and ravage just short of pushing her six feet under. Just so you can crush her under you instead and make her pay for staying alive. To bear and to beget your many sons. To nurture and feed your rabid army of the Men of Allah.

O Ye Men of Allah,

I have something to say to you. Hear me.

I am the Daughter of the Universe; the Yin to your Yang, the ultimate balancing act of God’s will gone wrong in your hands.

Hear me. We will be who we are: the proud women of Afghanistan. Our honour lies serenely, supremely, completely in the depths of our own eyes, not in yours.

Look at me. Don’t hide behind your fragile male bravado.
Look at me. Don’t turn your suddenly shameful eyes away.

Look at me. Look at me.

Look at me as I rise like a Phoenix from the ashes that you kicked aside.
Look at me as I look at you.
Look at me and see what you have become.
Look at me as your heart Drains … Shrivels …. Breaks …. Burns in its own hell.

Hear me, my voice will echo through my sisters even if mine falls silent. You will Hear me.

Look at me, even if it is at my corpse as I go to meet my Maker. You will Look at me.

For Allah hears me. For Allah sees me.

Allah stands behind me as we both look at you. As we both await you.

The “Where is My name” campaign. Laleh Osmany campaigning to have the mother’s name included in the birth certificate.

* Double (H)Ex: Word play on the double X chromosomes that all female mammals possess.  Hex is a spell or a curse.

* Talib: Scholar; Learned one.

* Shariah: Islamic law derived from the teachings of the Quran but mainly from the Prophet Muhammad. It is not a list of rules but rather a set of principles on aspects of life, including marriage, divorce, finance and rituals such as fasting and prayer.

* Lungee: turban/ cloth worn around the head.

VERSE | UP ⏫ ROOTED

On January 27, 2024February 10, 2025 By Mahvash K. M.In hope, poetry, verse, womenwriters, writingLeave a comment

This is for all the girls and the women who are struggling to fit into the expectations, definitions and labels that have been created for them. Keep speaking, keep striving, keep moving until you are free.

They told me that I should slow down
To put my roots into my soil
But when I did 
When I trusted the hands that would 
Nurture those tendrils, tender fragile
They instead beat them down
Crushed and strangled them in the ground
Burnt their life seeking ends
And everytime that they grew 
When they reached for something new
They cut them down 
Again and again they continued
All my tomorrows were carved out to be
Bleak as the ashen soil that held
My soles, my skin, my soul, my sins
Fusing them for the world and me
They were one, coalesced 
That none could sunder 
Save the keepers of the roots
And God himself
Resurrected in their image to suit
Him and him and Him and them
In a conspiracy of guilt and hell

So I uprooted myself 
And I found someplace else 

I slowed down and felt the ground
The soil was light, loamy brown
I sat down, took off my shoes 
I dug in my soles, my soul, my whole
And that is when I found my roots.

VERSE | DON’T FORGET

On January 4, 2024July 30, 2025 By Mahvash K. M.In hope, Humanity, poetry, verse, womenwriters, writing2 Comments

I draw so you remember 
What happened in October
Of 2023
And November and December 
and January and February 
And on and on in 2024 and 2025
I draw because I’m still alive 

I stand where the stricken
Lie dead or dying in the rocks 
Once homes and hospitals 
I stand 
And I draw so you remember 

And should I lose my hands
I will still paint
The ravaged spaces that I see
I’ll paint them with my feet 
I’ll sit 
With my reds and greys amid 
Strewn limbs and death debris
A paintbrush in my toes 

And should I lose my legs 
One of them or both 
And if I can draw a breath 
I’ll still draw the faces 
Of the living and the dead 
I’ll etch them with my eyes 
Into the watching skies
 
I’ll engrave them in the heavens 
Where angels wait to greet 
All of me and mine 
We, the flowers of Palestine 

I’ll draw, I’ll paint, I’ll etch 
Until my dying breath 
So that you can always see
So that you don’t forget.

VERSE | MINE ALONE

On October 24, 2022March 6, 2024 By Mahvash K. M.In poetry, socialissues, truth, verse, writingLeave a comment

It is beautiful, it is powerful 
Draping me like a queen 
It is elegant, it is personal 
It’s not for you to intervene 

How I wear it, when I wear it 
Or If I wear it at all 
It is not yours to abuse
In your chauvinistic thrall 

It is mine to choose and mine alone 
If I drape it on one side
An embellishment, an adornment 
Not a holy tent for me to hide 

I choose if indeed I cover
My head or not at all 
Mine to choose mine to use 
To wrap around me like a shawl 

In the end my garb, my hijab
My dupatta and my scarf
Are not for you to politicise 
To legislate on my behalf 

It’s mine to choose and mine alone
Not for you to rant and rail
To demonise and brutalise
Scrambling into realms of faith

It’s just free flowing fabric
There’s no honour in my veil
My virtue lies inside of me
And its not your holy grail

Angels never hide their light
They shine in its bright glow
I too choose a life for me where
I’m free to thrive and grow

It has always been my choice to make
Not for you nor your most devout
Where I’m radiant and dignified 
With my dupatta or indeed without.

VERSE | THE QUEEN

On February 24, 2022August 23, 2023 By Mahvash K. M.In Humanity, poetry, serenity, verse, writing2 Comments

LISTEN TO THE POEM BEING READ AT: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSdJxm38V/?k=1

I see her sitting under the tree
Dignified and serene even as she is encircled
In the cumbersome arms of poverty.
Destitution has cloaked her for many years
From head to toe it has persevered. But still
There are nuances of grace and light;
Of a decorum that has bested the blight.

Sparse hair is pulled back into a little knot
Threadbare clothes are mended and clean
Calloused feet wear leather sandals
Thousands of steps etched into their seams.
She sits there solitary and separate
Her expression is one of learned abjection 
As she labours on in her enterprise 
To live another day, to go on, to survive.

But every so often, when there is a lull
In the cresting and falling human swell
Where she sits, under the leafy canopy
The wretchedness leaves her face
And in its place
Shines a serene and quiet majesty 
A poise, a stateliness
Quietly they still linger in her being.
Even as she sits under the tree
To beseech, to plead, to request
I can still see the queen.

VERSE | PERPETUAL (M)OCEAN

On November 23, 2021December 30, 2024 By Mahvash K. M.In poetry, serenity, verse, writing1 Comment

LISTEN TO THE POEM BEING READ HERE: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSddMfkHV/?k=1

There is a ship that’s out to sea
Her cargo is my dreams
When I feel them slipping away 
She drops anchor close to me 

There is a ship that’s voyaging on 
She carries bushels of hope 
When life throws curve balls one too many 
She drifts in sure and close 

There is a ship out in the swells 
She carries stores of peace 
When chaos threatens my inner calm 
She glides in gracious and serene  

There is a ship, she’s the harbinger 
Of all that’s tender and true 
When my day is raw, sunless and sad
She sails in out of azure blues 

That ship she is my spirit 
My soul is in her sails 
As she journeys through life’s fickle tides  
She’s my alchemist within.

VERSE | THE ART OF TRAINING PRIMITIVE MAN

On October 14, 2021September 6, 2023 By Mahvash K. M.In Foot in the Mouth, funny, poetry, verse, writingLeave a comment

I walk down the street, my face set so 
The kind that threatens “Back off!” you know ..
Some also call it the Resting Bitch Face 
I call it my Psychosocial Can of Mace 

I will deny that I’m a lonesome brooder 
Heck! I love life’s energy and sizzle
It’s just that as I’ve grown older … and crosser
My Crap Tolerance has all but fizzled

The thing is I now don’t take kindly to 
Neanderthal stares when I am about
Eyeballs a-popping, dignity devolving 
Seeing Homosapien man driving himself out! 

I remember I used to look away before 
The caveman crassness too much for me 
Now I reward them, with stupendous contortions 
Maybe add an unlovely squint or three 

Here’s the ruse, these men are obtuse 
They’ll only ever shake their tails 
To the pretty demure, girl next door 
A vibe that so many ladies emanate 

So when they see, the prettiness flee
Leaving a facial mass of disturbing stuff   
The caveman stands up, evolution catches up
The genteel one can’t look away fast enough! 

So the next time, that you feel inclined 
To give an avid ogler a fit resprise 
Toggle the peeps, bare all your teeth 
In a grimace fit for Franken-bride 

And that ladies, is why you’ll find me
Walking serenely down the street  
Until I’m in a parade, for the Staring Brigade
Then I unleash the power of the squint and the teeth.

(Amen to growing older, madder and wiser! 😉)

VERSE | RECLAIMING OUR HUMANITY

On August 4, 2021February 28, 2022 By Mahvash K. M.In Faith, hope, poetry, Spirituality, verse, writingLeave a comment

KINDNESS, it’s such a simple thing
And yet we speak of it like it was the benevolence of kings
DIGNITY, such a basic quality
And yet we are in awe of it like it was the Pope’s homily
COURAGE, that gritty stuff of warriors!
We speak of it like it was an unmasterable barrier
HONESTY, its whiteness, and its shades of grey
Always so elusive, like catching the sun’s rays
Being SELF-AWARE, that dialogue with one’s core
Only Maharishis* can ever open up that door

Depleting self-suggestion tells us
How unconquerable are the odds
Of mastering these exalted traits;
This stuff of Allamahs* and gods.
Look within yourself and tell me 
That you don’t see the shimmer
Of all these “divine” elements 
Some bright, some a little dimmer

It’s time to wrap yourself in your kindness and dignity
To feel the potent warmth of your courage and honesty 
That is you, that’s how you were built to be
Take your inertia and your self doubt
And finally throw them out to sea.

* Maharishi: A great Hindu sage or spiritual leader

* Allamah: An honorary and prestigious title carried by only the very highest scholars of Islamic thought, jurisprudence, and philosophy. It is used as an honorific in Sunni Islam as well as in Shia Islam. Allamah is a leader for the Islamic faith.

Mahvash Mohtadullah

Tag: dignity