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Archive for the ‘Social Issues’ Category

“Aurat” by Kaifi Azmi


With the current state of woman in the subcontinent, we need to remind ourselves of how progressive poets like Kaifi Azmi not just dreamt, but sketched in verses an image of  a woman of subatance, way back  in 1942.

Today well into the 21st Century, we still just dream to realize this. And we have miles to go…

Aurat

Woman

qalb e mahaul meN larzaN sharar e jung haiN aaj
hausle vaqt ke aur zeest ke yek rang haiN aaj
aabgeenoN meN tapaN valvala e sang haiN aaj
husn aur ishq hum avaz o hum aahang haiN aaj
jis meN jalta huN usi aag meN jalna hai tujhe

uTh meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

Todaysparks of war waver in the air
time and life have the same spirit
delicate decanters hiss with the heat of rocks
beauty and love harmonize melodiously
You too have to be ignited by the fire that burns me

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me

zindagi jahd meN hai, sabr ke qaboo meN nahiN
nabz e hasti ka lahu kaanpte aansoo meN nahiN
uDne khulne meN hai nikhat, Kham e gesoo meN nahiN
jannat ek aur hai jo mard ke pahloo meN nahiN
is ki aazad ravish par bhi machalna hai tujhe

uTh meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

Life is in struggle, not in the restraint of patience
The blood of pulsating life is not in trembling tears
Fragrance lies in free-flight, not in the tresses, of hair
There is another Paradise which is not by the side of men
On its free pathways too you have yet to pirouette

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me

goshe goshe meN sulagti hai chita tere liye
farz ka bhes badalti hai qaza tere liye
qahr hai teri har ek narm ada tere liye
zahr hi zahr hai duniya ki hava tere liye
ruth badal Daal agar phoolna phalna hai tujhe

uTh meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

For you burning pyres wait at every corner
death disguised as duty
your every delicate gesture, a curse
nothing but poison in the breeze
Change the season if you wish to flourish

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me

qadr abtak teri tareeKh ne jani hi nahiN
tujh meN sholay bhi haiN bas ashk fishani hi nahiN
tu haqeeqat bhi hai dilchasp kahani hi nahiN
teri hasti bhi hai ek cheez javani hi nahiN
apni tareeKh ka unvaan badalna hai tujhe

uTh meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

History has not known your worth thus far
You have burning embers too, not merely tears
You’re reality too, not a mere amusing anecdote
Your personality is something too, not just your youth
You’ve to change the title of your history

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me

toD kar rasm ke but band e qadamat se nikal
zo’f e ishrat se nikal vahm e nazakat se nikal
nafs ke kheenche hue halqa e azmat se nikal
qaid ban jaye mohabbat to mohabbat se nikal
raah ka Khaar hi kya gul bhi kuchalna hai tujhe
 

uTh meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

Emerge out of ancient bondage, break the idols of tradition,
the weakness of pleasure, this mirage of fragility
these self-drawn boundaries of imagined greatness
the bondage of love, for this too is a bondage
Not merely the thorns on the path but you have to trample on flowers too

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me

toD ye azm shikan daGdaGa e pand bhi toD
teri Khatir hai jo zanjir vo saugand bhi toD
tauq ye bhi hai zammarud ka guluband bhi toD
toD paimana e mardan e Khiradmand bhi toD
ban ke tufan chalakna hai ubalna hai tujhe

uTh meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

Shatter these resolve breaking suspicions of sermons
these vows that have become shackles
this too, this necklace of emeralds
these standards set by the wise men
You have to turn into a tempest, bubble and boil over

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me

tu Falatoon o Arastu hai tu Zohra ParviN
tere qabze meN hai gardun teri Thokar meN zamiN
haN uTha jald uTha pa e muqaddar se jabiN
main bhi rukne ka nahiN vaqt bhi rukne ka nahiN
laDkhaDayegi kahan tak ke sanbhalna hai tujhe

uTh meri jaan mere saath hi chalna hai tujhe

You are Aristotle’s philosophy, Venus, Pleiades’s
You control the sky, the earth at your feet
Yes, raise, fast, raise your forehead from the feet of fate
I too am not going to pause, nor will the time
How long would you falter, you have to be firm

Get up, my love, you have to walk with me.

 

A journey of a boy’s mama


Whatever a woman happens to be—whether a home maker or a working woman, whether a successful or an ordinary woman—-if she is a mother of a boy as well, she will have to walk through the same journey that every ‘boy’s mama’ travels. The journey with girls is somewhat different. As they say, and I agree, you can raise 4 girls instead of one boy.

And the journey goes:
.
Test comes ‘positive’
Nause, morning sickness
Anxieties, apprehensions
Back aches, as weeks pass by
Yeyy, the angel kicks.
Oh what a feel!
Thy name is Mom.

Midnight heartburns
Pale eyes, puffy face
Torment of unease and fear
Pain progresses, as hours pass by
Wow, the baby cries aloud.
Oh what a bliss!
Thy name is Mama.

Hundreds of feeds
Thousands nappy changes
Restless days, sleepless nights
Burns out, as days pass by.
Yeah, the kiddo crawls, runs, jumps
Oh what a sight!
Thy name is Maa.

Baking favourite cookies
Reading bedtime stories
Lessons on good manners
Million scolds and hugs
Unending kisses on cuts n bruises
Shoes grow smaller, as years pass by
Aah, the naughty boy grows
Oh what a comfort!
Thy name is Ummi.

Daily tug of war
High spirited, roguish teen
Naggings on deaf ears
Endless worries and woes
For exam grades, as terms pass by
Pheww, the playful graduates .
Oh what a tranquility!
Thy name is Amma.

Constant vigil
Assertive, youthful
Heart breaking arguments
Amidst endless love, selfless care
A constant referee between Dad and him
Egos collide, generation gap manifests.
Differences pile, as life passes by.
Alas, a youngman, independent, comesforth
Oh what an atonement!
Thy name is Ammi.

Ilmana Fasih
Dec 26, 2010

TUNISIA and it’s CODE OF PERSONAL STATUS


Seeing the developments that occur in Tunisia, I notice that after having written about Bhutan, Tunisia appears to be yet another ‘tiny’ nation which puts some of the ‘BIG’ countires on the globe to shame. And this time it puts to shame the ARAB as well as MUSLIM countries.

A brief introduction to get a visual idea of how tiny this nation is:
Tunisia is a tiny country located at the northern border of the continent of Africa sandwiched between two giants Algeria and Libya. It has an area of 165,000 sq km coming at 89th in the world in size slightly larger than Nepal.( while Pakistan is 35th and almost 4 times as large as Tunisia in area) with about 10 million population ( half of the estimated population of Karachi and one-eighteenth of Pakistan’s population.). It is the smallest nation along the south of Mediterranean.

Having befriended a lot of Tunisians as colleagues and neighbours, I found them strikingly different from the rest of the Arabs. They are simple and poor like us, yet very secular and modern in their outlook. Tunisians have a beautiful blend of Islamic and Westernised life style mainly due to their French colonisation. And most of them strike a very neat balance between the two supposedly diametrically opposed cultures.

Here I do not repeat the glories of it’s Jasmine revolution or the way their youth fought on streets bravely to drive President Ben Ali out of not only power, but out of their continent. It is about a unique personal issue which we muslim countries are struggling at—namely the status of women, polygamy, divorce laws etc.

Thanks to a very dear friend of mine, Ali Boubakri, from whom I learned a lot about the Tunisian culture, and came to possess their beautiful handicrafts. But more than anything else what information really fascinated me was about the existence of THE CODE OF PERSONAL STATUS in Tunisia which is unique to TUNISIA in the whole of Arab and Muslim World. I could not, initially, believe the existence of this Law in a Muslim country and that too since 1956.
THE CODE OF PERSONAL STATUS in Tunisia remains one of the most progressive civil codes in the Middle East and the Muslim world which was enacted just five months after Tunisia gained its independence in 1956. The brain behind the code being their Independence leader and the first President Habib Bourguiba.
The code was meant to end GENDER INEQUALITY and update family law, to enable greater social and economic progress and make Tunisia a fully modern society. Highlight of the Law are and I copy the original text mostly in order to avoid distortions:

– the principle of the CONSENT of the two spouses as a requirement for the validity of all marriages.

– an obligatory MINIMUM AGE for marriages, fixed first at eighteen years(18) for men and fifteen (15) years for women, the precise text that: “Below this age marriage cannot be contracted, except by the special authorization of a judge who may not grant it, except for serious reasons and in the well understood interests of both spouses. In this same case, consent for the marriage of a minor must be given by the closest parent who must fulfil three conditions, namely being of sound mind, adult and masculine.” It has now been amended to 20 years for males and 17 years for females.

-POLYGAMY is FORBIDDEN , even if the second union is not “formal “. Whosoever being engaged in the bonds of matrimony shall contract another before the dissolution of the preceding shall be liable to A YEAR’S IMPRISONMENT t and to a FINE.” Bourguiba referred to a Sura of the Koran to justify this measure:
“We have abided by the spirit of the Holy Book… which indicates monogamy. Our decision in the matter contradicts no religious text and is found to be in agreement with mercy and justice and the equality of the sexes.”

-The code also prescribes that , “ Each of the two spouses must treat each other with kindness, live in good rapport, and avoid all prejudice,” thus ABOLISHING THE WIFE’S OBLIGATION TO OBEDIENCE to her husband.

-At the same time , the text obliged the wife who was in possession of goods to CONTRIBUTE to the family’s expenses, so that the husband not have the powers of administrationover the wife’s possessions.
– It expanded the right of mothers to have custody of their children. It made the registration of marriages and divorces mandatory, something that was not systematically the case earlier. It made adoption legally valid.

– The Code, to the contrary, instituted a DIVORCE procedure that “COULD NOT TAKE PLACE EXCEPT BEFORE A COURT” which decided “the dissolution of the marriage.”

– It is also stated that: “material harm would be RECOMPENSATED (to the woman) in the form of a MONTHLY ALIMONY payment… to the level of life to which she was accustomed during married life, here including residence”. Once more, Bourguiba justified himself by the decree of the Koran.

-The Code also instituted the principle of the equality of men and women in relation to CITIZENSHIP. Moreover, if a child did not possess his own goods, the necessary costs of his upbringing were PREDICATED on those of the FATHER.

Reference: http://www.answers.com/topic/tunisia-personal-status-code#ixzz1B9Hwsvte

And after my firsthand interaction with my Tunisian friends, I can say with confidence that this is not just a law that exists in the books only, but is actually been practiced. A colleague of mine who had divorced his first wife for some personal reasons still paid her the monthly alimony.

It is important to note that their leader Habib Bourgeba had this vision in 1956 and the law is enforced since then. Unfortunately we in 2011, and calling ourselves the leaders of Islam and Muslim countries, possess nuclear weapons, but still struggle with the extremist mindset at the general level.

Hope we too get at least one BOURGUIBA amongst us now in 2011, from the 180 million who rises above the *talking mode* and does something concrete, when one could be born in Tunisia from just 10 millions almost 45 years ago in 1956.

Only time will tell.

But the hope remains…

IlmanaFasih
15 Jan 2011

BEING AWARE OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE


Recent news clips from the subcontinent across borders:
Woman abducted, ‘gang-raped’ in Defence
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
By our correspondent
Karachi
A woman was allegedly abducted, gang-raped and later dumped in a posh locality of the city by unidentified men on Monday morning.The details go on…
Delhi Police Intensifies Hunt for 2 Other Rape Accused
NEW DELHI | DEC 03, 2010
Delhi Police personnel today fanned out in the capital and neighbouring states to nab two absconding youths allegedly involved in the gang rape of a Mizo call-centre employee while the two others arrested will undergo test identification parade on Saturday.The details follow…

These are just two examples of news clips you see from the two megacities of our ‘great’ subcontinent who we dearly call the ‘golden bird’ of the past.

A vast majority as large as 97% rape cases go unreported. Whatever cases manage to get into the limelight, too, get rubbed down like the present case by either the family members, or the likes of Sharmila Farouqui.

How shocking is her reaction —that she gives out the name of the girl and then the vocabulary she uses for a girl who is distressed as ‘hyper’,’ batameezi’, etc. And if that was not enough she hints at the girl’s moral values by dropping phrases like ‘she is changing statements’ , ‘coming from a party’ etc .
Only if she knew what would be the state of mind of a woman whose limits of decency have been trespassed by force.

Why did Sharmila say so?

No, certainly not because she was siding with the perpetrator nor because she was against the victim.
It was simply because “she knoweth not what she was talking’.

Yes, because she is naive of the fragile state of mind of a victim of a recent horror of Sexual violence and hence absolutely lost in the ‘basic knowhow’ of how to handle it.

We pride over our ethical values, our fidelities, our hospitality, our great culture, our conscience, our what not when it comes to comparing with the west and their western values.
We spend hours in our sitting rooms just bitching about their divorce rates, their menace of drugs, their AIDS, their broken families, their mechanical life style, their treatment of old parents and what not.
We sing songs of our Iman, our faith, our Haya,our compassion, and the list can go on…
And when it comes to real life scenarios like these, where do our compassions or empathy, drilled into us through our faith, vanish?

Sharmilla are you listening?

We talk of issues for a while and then move on to another, with an ultra short memory. True, we have numerous issues and they keep us engaged, one after the other—but there are issues which deserve a deeper look and a reality check.

SEXUAL VIOLENCE happens to be one such issue.

The dark reality remains that RAPE or SEXUAL VIOLENCE in general remains aninternational phenomenon—no country, no faith, no community is safe from its wrath. We are in ‘no way above this either.

These cases( in news) involve perpetrators who were perhaps unknown to their victims— and hence it becomes piece of ‘news item’. But hundreds of our young or not so young girls, and even the world over, become the victims of the barbaric passions of their own acquaintances like friends, boyfriends, fiances, even uncles or close family members.

A vast invisible majority of them do not even get enough of courage to complain or share it with those who can understand. Why? Because they know that the onus of the act will fall on them with remarks like:

“You asked for it by getting trapped yourself.”

“Why did you befreind him?”

“Why were you alone with him?”

“Why did you go out with him?”

“Why were you dressed like that?”

“Why were you out at that time?”

These are all the bullets that are shot at her, if she even stands up to complain.

And then as a sad consequence, a lot of them get into the vicious circle of blackmailing and reenter the cycle of of being sexually assaulted again ‘n’ again by the same or other related individuals until it becomes a ‘routine abuse’ thing for her.
Along with the strong legislation( which we deservingly cry about ), we urgently need to talk about it, spread awareness of its existence , learn how tokeep safe from it, and how to get help if such a situation arises.

Are YOU listening?

No, not just at Sharmila Faruqi, but I scream this loud to anyone who claims to be a human being.
All of us need to be aware of and sensitive to it.
Think not that such calamaties cannot befall upon us too.

Awareness of the menace, its gravity and the ways to avoid such abuse is fundamental to the prevention of further such incidents to occur.
It is very important for our society to be made aware that sexual violence has NO EXCUSE—no matter how close or friendly the relationship had been. Every individual has a right to guard her boundaries of decency ( whatever she chooses them to be) and that no one has the right to trespass those limits no matter how close that person happens to be.
I present here some of the dark facts and stark statistics about of the sexual violence from the international data, which holds true for ALL places:

FACTS & STATISITCS

1.Sexual violence occurs throughout the world.(Based on Panel on Violence Against Women, 1993).

2 Although in most countries there has been little research conducted on the problem, available data suggest that in some countries nearly one in four women may experience sexual violence by an intimate partner , and up to one-third of adolescent girls report their first sexual experience as being forced. That’s more than one per minute (Based on the Violence Against Women Survey, Statistics Canada, 1993).

3.One in three women victims of sexual assault were assaulted by a friend or casual acquaintance; one in four by a family member including an uncle, a cousin, a father(yes!), a brother or an ex-spouse (Tremblay, 1999).

4.Young women between the ages of 16 and 21 are at the highest risk of sexual assault (Women’s Safety Project, 1993).

5.An estimated 83 per cent of women with disabilities will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime (Stimpson and Best, 1991).

6.One in six boys is sexually abused before age 17 (Bagley,1994).

Who Commits Sexual Assault?

1. Women are twice as likely to be assaulted by a man they know than by a stranger (Statistics Canada, 1993). They can include friends, acquaintances, boyfriends, co-workers, or relatives.

2. Offenders come from all ages, classes, sexual orientations, professions, and ethno-cultural backgrounds.
Effects of Sexual Assault:

Sexual assault may create emotional and physical health difficulties in the victim’s life.

A survivor may be feeling overwhelmed by many different emotions, but it is important to know that once they are able to express their feelings with supportive helpers, these emotions will lessen over time. (I wish Sharmila Farooqui knew this !)

While some survivors may experience all of the reactions described below, others may experience only a few.

Some emotions/feelings survivors may experience are:

Shock, disbelief, numbness, confusion
Self-blame, shame, guilt
Fearfulness, insecurity, nervousness
Nightmares, flashbacks, anxiety, panic
Sadness, loss, depression
Loss of trust in self and others
Feeling a loss of control, powerlessness, helplessness
Anger, feeling betrayed.
Some physical reactions survivors may experience are:
Changes in eating (loss of appetite, nausea) and sleeping patterns (i.e. nightmares)
Headaches and fatigue
Possible symptoms of sexually transmitted diseases or injuries related to the assault
Body pain (soreness, backache, bruising).

Myths and Realities:

Myth: Sexual assault is not a common problem.
Reality: Every day women and men, girls and
boys experience sexual assault at home, at school,
at work, and on the street. In 1993, the
Panel on Violence Against Women estimated that
two out of three women have experienced sexual
assault.

Myth: Women or girls  lie about being sexually assaulted,
often because they feel guilty about having sex.
Reality: Women rarely make false reports about
sexual assault. In reality, sexual assault is an
under-reported crime. Only six per cent of sexual
assaults are ever reported to police (Statistics
Canada, 1993) and only one per cent of
date/acquaintance rapes are reported to police
(Russell, 1984).

Myth: Sexual assault is most often committed by
strangers.
Reality: Women are twice as likely to be assaulted
by a man they know than by a stranger
(Statistics Canada, 1993). Women face the greatest
risk of sexual assault from men they know,
not strangers. When a woman knows the man
who sexually assaults her, it is less likely that it
will be recognized as a crime, even by her.
Whether a sexual assault is committed by someone
you know, or by a stranger, it is still a crime.

Myth: Women who are sexually assaulted “ask
for it” by the way they dress or act.
Reality: No woman ever “asks” or deserves to
be sexually assaulted. Whatever a woman wears,
wherever she goes, whomever she talks to, “no”
means “no.” It is the law. The idea that women
“ask for it” puts the blame on the victim/
survivor for the crime, instead of the offender.

What To Do If You Have Been Sexually Assaulted

Take whatever steps are necessary to make yourself safe.
Seek medical attention.
Decide whom you want to tell.
Do not blame yourself.
Allow yourself to feel and express the variety of emotions that are commonly experienced.
Remember that you are not alone.
There are many people willing to help you through this.

How To Support People That Have Been Sexually Assaulted

Respect whatever choices they make. It is important that they have control over their own life and the decisions they make.
Believe them.
Be supportive by listening.
Find out what help is available in your community.
Provide them with the information and accompany them when they access services.

I think it is time that we start looking at things from the view point of finding solutions, ways of getting self help in such grave matters and making it our moral obligation to inform ourselves, our young daughters and SONS, our sisters and BROTHERS, and friends about the issue of SEXUAL VIOLENCE, instead of just ‘crying foul’ and ‘demanding justice’ about one isolated incident.

My media friends, are you listening?

A mobile/ computer game developed by our company ZMQ for METRAC.CA about Awareness on  Sexual Violence.

http://www.metrac.org/game.html

Ilmana Fasih
21 DECEMBER 2010

TED TALK ON KABIR by Shabnam Virmani


Shabnam Virmani is a filmmaker and artist in residence at the Srishti School of Art, Design and Technology in Bangalore, India.

7 years ago she started travelling with folk singers in Malwa, Rajasthan and Pakistan in a quest for the spiritual and socio-political resonances of the 15th century mystic poet Kabir in our contemporary worlds. Among the tangible outcomes of these journeys were a series of 4 musical documentary films, several music CDs and books of the poetry in translation (www.kabirproject.org).

Inspired by the inclusive spirit of folk music, she has begun to play the tambura and sing folk songs of Kabir herself. Currently she is working on co-creating a web-museum of Kabir poetry & music with folk singer communities in India and developing ideas for taking mystic poetry and folk music to school classrooms.

She continues to journey to new areas such as Kutch, Gujarat and draw inspiration not only from Kabir, but also other mystic poets of the sub-continent and the oral folk traditions that carry them to us. Her earlier work consisted of several video and radio programs created in close partnership with grassroots women’s groups in India.

ONLY IF THE PASTURES ON THE OTHER SIDE WERE THAT GREEN


My home phone rings.
“Hello, this is Akshita here”
“Akhsita?Oh yes I remember.”

It took me a few seconds to place her- a young 26 year old Indian doctor, from Chandigarh who I had met on Oct 25, 2010 during a day long exam for Canadian Licence for medical practice.

I had noticed her sitting huddled up in a corner during the hour long break in the exam and I sat next to her with the usual smile to initiate a dialogue

“Are you from India?” she asked
“Yes from Delhi.”

We deicide to go upto the coffee shop to buy cofee and stand in the queue exchanging the usual data about each other.

“But I need some coins too so that I can call my husband once the exam is done.”
“So you don’t have a cell phone,” I stop short of asking her. Yes it isnt mandatory for all of us to have a cell phone.

We talk of the exam and the time flies away.

She mentions to me how ‘homesick’ she feels and it has been months since she talked to another Indian and another doctor.

“So you dont study in a study group”.
“No” she replied again.

Yes I too dont like group study so just give this answer a pass.
As we pack up to turn back for the next session and she asks me, as if unsure if this was an appropriate thing to ask:

Can I have your phone number? If I need to, can I ever call you?”

I dictate out the number again too involved in my next exam without giving my name or even asking her number in return, even out of politeness.

We disperse and she is out of my mind.

Today she calls up to ask about the outcome of the exam result and poor soul declares that she could not pass. I reassure her, and to stay put until she succeeds. Next exam is 6 months on and enough to make a strong preparation.

She explains that she can only talk till her mother in law is in the shower.

She breaks down with the news that she cant even appear again until she reimburses the fees for this exam to her in laws .

“You couldn’t succeed, the fee of $1500 dollars was a total waste”—she is repeatedly taunted by her husband.

We talked for about 20 minutes or so, and she seemed  keen to do most of the talking. I let her.

She confided is being nagged to compensate for the fees. How? She has no clues nor have they hinted how. Go out to work? She says but they dont let her even step out alone from the house. Or maybe if she does go out to do an odd job of $10.25 an hour, they may change their mind.

Or graver still , maybe they expect her to demand this from her family back home to refund. But they are so kind that they do not say it in so many words.

They are letting her use her ‘independence’ to decide how she would reimburse.

“I feel miserable.I dont know what to do’”?

The word homesickness strikes my mind. Now I get a clue to what ‘homesickness’ she was going through in her new home in Canada.

She is being reminded several times a day and in several ways that they got her married to their son, for doctors here earn good money and she has proved to be an expensive daughter-in-law on the contrary.

She is now here since 3 years and lives with her inlaws. She has been attempting to clear the licensing exam since past two years in order to come into the medical practice in Canada.The expenses for the fees are pretty fat and generally it takes a few attempts for the average foreign trained proffessional to pass the exams.

Since she’s been feeding on the family’s expenses for these past 3 years, who had even financed her $ 2000+  airticket when she arrived in the country after marriage and the expenses of her books, exams fees she has been convinced. With all this already spent on her,  she has been convicned she cannot be provided with a cell phone.

“Here the person is paid on an hourly basis and half of the money is taken away in taxes’, she is told time and again.

Hence, to make long story short—she does not need to have a cell phone.

She is ‘allowed’ by her generous inlaws to make a 5-10 min call to her parents every 15 days and they are so kind they stand by her for everyminute of the call she makes to her ‘contented’  parents. Why shouldn’t they be, their girl is settled in Canada.

Any deviation in her expressions to her parents over the phone from ”alls well’ tone is greeted with eyes popping from the mother in law’s sockets,  or for days when her husband “neither looks, talks or touches” her. (in her own words).

She has no relatives or acquaintnaces in the town she lives, and before she got my telephone number, she did not have even a single phone number to call in times, good or bad.
Mother in law is a retired lady and hence she is fortunate to be escorted by her all those hours when her husband is away. When he arrives only does she do her other social obligations.

She feels she and her husabnd are   literally “remote controlled” by the  mother in law.  But she is ‘kind’ enough tolet  her study time from 8 am to 12 noon, soon after her husband leaves for work, but past noon onwards she does the house chores of cooking and cleaning, unsupervised, while the mother in law makes a one hour telephone call to her daughter in another city.

Three years and she has not been even dropped a hint at learning to drive, with a simple assumption from her that she can only do it once she has her Canadian passport.

 I offer her if I could help her in any way, she feels extremely undecided and then wants to wait that if she passes next time the attitudes will get better. At times she contradicts herself and justifies that the husband is “really bearing too much of her expenses”.

I ask her if she could give me her Indian phone number so that at least I can drop a hint to her parents—but she confides that the father is a heart patient and the mom has advised to refrain from any bad news.

I reassure her that there are various places and resources available for help but then it will need a huge courage on her part to come out. I also tell her to take her own decision—nor can I force her to take the action of my choice and then should go in with strong conviction. She repeats, “I think once I pass things will be different.”

As we were just in the midst of this discussion she hangs up the phone. Maybe it got disconnected. I wait. 

But the ring doesn’t ring again.It hasnt rung till now—almost 3 hrs since her call.

I feel extremely disturbed. Can I return the call? What if  other family members are home? What if she hasn’t told them about me and it might rebound on her. Hope she calls back. Hope she stays safe and in control of her situation
 

How can I take the baton for her? She has to run her own relay.
We can just guide her, reassure her and empower her to take her own sound decisions.

But the courage has to be her own.

I’ve never been so puzzled in life. I find it hard to get back to business as usual.

A perfect recipe for me to stay up all night, staring the roof .

Very often we hear of the cries of stories wherein the western desi girls are subjected to forced marriages by their families to cousins or other family members.

In Pakistan I know, there has been a special cell in the British HC for rescuing such girls from the clutches of forced marriages. Majority of these girls are at least school graduates and well aware of their rights and still they find it hard to rebel against what goes on.

A similiar but reverse trend of bringing girls from back home  is thriving too. Many desi households  in the west live a terrifically balanced life —by adopting those western values which suit them and conveniently being amnesic to those norms which donot suit them.

Prevailing social and economic hardships, over population, and fascination for the ‘foreign country’ or ‘west’ lures equally the parents and the girls back home to aspire for a foreign rishta. It offers a quick escape from the hardships in the heat and dust back home. The guy’s family too finds it a lot convenient to look for a simpleton bride from their homeland with the impression that the girls back there are still make ‘bholi bhali bahus’ as they had known when they migrated a couple or more  decades ago. Majority of them live in the time freeze of the times they had last lived back home.

The parents quite often, convince the boy,  after he has done enough of ‘playing around’ in high school or college days, that now it is worthwhile or rather safe to go for a desi girl with a desi frame of mind—fulfilling everyones convenient dreams—most of all of parents themselves,  of  a desi seedhi saadi bahu. It also  enables obliging the relatives ‘behind’  by choosing their daughter, hence opening their gateway to the west.

The guy is convinced that the girl who comes will be adjusting and law abiding at home, wouldn’t be a threat to the marriage, and will never know her rights or claims if at all the marriage fails.
This is one mindset which atunes  all diaspora of the South Asians,  to the same wavelength, across all subgroups, all faiths, all languages and all economic classes.

Doctor girls are in huge demand by the foreign settled rishta parents from our subcontinent.

Principally it is a noble profession, it makes  great news to announce that the bahu is a doctor, if she gets into the system she will mint money and will be the blue eyed of her husband and his family as their mortgages will be finished soon.

Back home with 4:1 ratio of girls in medical colleges, and the valid aspiration of every medical graduate to find a suitor of equal professional aptitude is tough, hence getting a proposal from a foreign settled graduate is like  “her man in shining armour riding  a white horse, who will come, and lo will vanish  all the miseries in her life.”
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Of course the  cousin marriages, in Muslims,  need no cross check. In other communities, the girl’s family is so enamoured by the foreign rishta that they believe on word of mouth or get impressed by a tour of the photoalbums, and consent to the foreign damaad  without much investigation. Even if they wish to inquire, ‘the distance, the visa, the expense’ constraints  are enough to dampen the ‘evil’ thought.

Investigations for what?  She is a doctor and she will earn well over there.
A lot of them do not even explore how tough the licensinfg exams are, and that barely a fraction of them are able to make into the field of medical practice.

Majority of doctors end up being grateful housewives or doing odd jobs or even diversifying into diametrically opposite fields like interior decoration, beautician, research assistant or a teacher.

This is not the srtory of one Akshita. The situation on ground is overwhelming in volume.
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The idea here is not to create a paranoia but to inform about the various vulnerabilities one faces—be it in professional terms or socail viewpoint.

Despite the tremendous pressures for a right match or aspirations to move over to the greener pastures, it is mandatory for the parents to cross check the degrees that the boys claim to possess and the the possibilities of one’s daughter to be able to pursue her career.

She should be aware of her rights as well as the duties which takes to make marriage a compatible, pleasant and a worthwhile experience. It certainly does not imply that all are alike but a lot of girls I have personally known do find it tough to adjust to the controlling ways of their insecure inlaws.

Getting one’s daughter maried off to a stranger residing thousands of miles away needs a truck load of courage. It should be embarked upon with wisdom and with all the possible issues in mind.

It has been, now, 4 hours since Akshita called me. She did not ring back. Hope she is fine and safe. Hope her controlling mother in law hasn’t heard her talk on phone.

I hope she gets enough courage to stand up on her two legs and her husband grows a spine in his back —to at least lend a moral support to his wife, who has come a 4000 miles just to spend the rest of her life with him,  and who is going to be a mother of his kids in future.

If the mother in happy, their children too would grow happy.

Most likely, I am afraid her situation will prevail as such with cyclical pattern of frequent taunts and then a few happy moments— typical of  abuse—and she will go on for years being unsure whether it is appropriate for her raise an alarm and she will be listened to.

Every doctor girl coming here to Canada or west in general, has to go through the challenges—of adjusting to the new way of life, pressures of completing the battery exams in order to get back into practice, feeling homesick but unable to visit parents and with loads of expectations that one day she will turn into “a goose that will lay gold eggs.”

In this era of information explosion it is an abominable sin to embark on a life long decision unaware of it’s pros and cons. It is mandatory on all parents and girls to please take wise decisions.
Please look before you let your daughters leap.

Decide carefully and wisely…

Ilmana Fasih
16 December 2010
(PS: This is a true story of today itself. However, Akshita is not her real name).

ARE THERE ANY RULES OF PARENTING?


Time and again we as parents talk of what are the secrets of raising our chidren to the best of our abilities and discover a” fool proof” way that they turn out to be super kids.
I have yet to see a set of parents who donot aspire their kids to do well. We all try our own mechanisms , within our means of understanding, in becoming the ideal parents.

When we bring a television, a camera or even a small cell phone we get with it the users manual to see what appropriate ways to use it and what is to be done to ”trouble shoot”.

However, when we bring in the beautiful machines called babies we donot bother to look up for its’ user’s manual simply because the baby doesnt come in with one. We, like other major issues in our life including religion, depend upon the hearsay of the seniors or others in dealing with these “bundles of joy”.

We use our ‘trial and error methods’ and then when things go wrong we blame–there are no rules for parenting. It all depends upon Allah and His will if our kids turn out to be good, not so good or even baad.
Although I did attempt to read a book on Positive Parenting while expecting my first child, I too am in NO way, any better than those parents who learn as they raise their kids. Learning as such is a life ling process but then there has to be a baseline to take off from. To my much dismay now, I probably took off as an illiterate when I embarked on the parenting path, 19 years ago. I feel ashemed of many silly and many serious follies I committed along the way. I wish I had even a fraction of enlightenment that I have now. Sorry, but it’s too late to cry over spilt milk. Not because I failed—certainly I did not— but because despite my follies my kids were smart enough to stay fairly on track.
Nor does it imply that I was an “all evil mom” but yes I did have my share of mistakes. It was only when my kids grew a bit older did I get to watch the serials like SUPER NANNY or read child psychology articles on the web . How I wish I had known that when my little committed made a blunder—instead of screaming or scolding I should have talked to her at her eye level without raising my voice. Also that when my son misbehaved—instead of giving him a scornful look and a nasty threat of police , I had put him on a naughty chair for the time appropriate for his age. And most of all instead of using TV with Cartoon Network as a baby sitter, I wish I had used some more useful methods to engage them.

I feel terrible at times of the rare, probably a couple of occaisions only, when I really slapped my kids hard for some really really serious reasons. I wish I had the control over me then, to deal with them with more restraint. I have even apologised to them for these acts time and again. But these kids are no saints—they are monsters in the garb of sons and daughters—they do forgive and forget at the moment but then use it as ” a tool ” whenever deemed necessary. I wish I had never given them a chance to use this” life line”.

I attended a lecture, sometime ago, by a philanthropist from Brampton, by the name of Baldev Mutta who deliverd an extremely enlightening lecture and that too based on scientific evidence and research about what makes kids great sailors and survivors in this bad mad sad world.

The rules he presented were mainly of common sense and indeed many a times made me wonder during the lecture—gosh! why didnt that click to me when I was raising my kids?


Baldev Mutta ji begins with saying:

Spend quality time with your kids.
A child’s self-esteem is greatly influenced by the quality of time we spend with them-not the amount of time that we spend. With our busy lives, we  often think about the next thing  we have to do, instead of putting a focused attention on what our child is saying to us. We often pretend to listen or ignore our child’s attempts to communicate with us. If we don’t give our child quality time , they will often start to misbehave. Negative attention in a child’s mind is better than being ignored.

It is also important to recognize that feelings are neither right nor wrong. They just are.

So when your child says to you, “Mommy, you never spend time with me” (even though you just played with her) she is expressing what she feels. It is best at these times just to validate her feelings by saying, “Yeah, I bet it does feel like a long time since we spent time together.”

So beautiful is the technical term given to quality time – Genuine encounter moments (GEM).

Give Children Appropriate Ways to Feel Powerful

If you don’t, they will find inappropriate ways to feel their power.
Ways to help them feel powerful and valuable are to ask their advice, give them choices, let them help you balance your check book, cook part of a meal, or help you shop. A two-year-old can wash plastic dishes, wash vegetables, or put silverware away. Often we do the job for them because we can do it with less hassle, but the result is they feel unimportant.

Unfortunately many of us desi parents love to keep our children emotionally and physically dependent on us. Not because we want it that way but because we fear losing them if they get independent.

Mr Mutta, to my utter shock, reinforced several times that the kids should be independent enough to make their own breakfast at the age of 12 and above. Many of us would shoo this as ridiculous stuff but believe me once I learnt this I took my hands off my kids morning stints and now they ‘re all independent.

I ’rest in peace’ while they get up, get ready in the early morning hours and fetch their own breakfast. At the oputset my heart thumped hard as I lay in bed overhearing the background noises of their activity in the kitchen, but now my soul gets rejuvenated each time I see them walking away from the kitchen with a self prepared breakfast. And that no more am I an indispensable entity.

Only if I attended Baldev’s lecture 5 years ago !!!

Create love for books in the child right from day 1:

Says Mr Mutta that research has proven that if the child is given a book right from the first days in the crib and then made to sleep each day after reading to them from a colorful attractive book—the child grows up with the love of reading books. And as the child loves to read he broadens his horizon, raises his intellect , aspires to acquire more and stays away from boredom related social ills like drugs, hooliganism, crime etc..
Every occaision should be used to give them books as presents. They last longer and impact far more than the plastic toys.

Teach the child to be empathetic towards the parents:
As parents especially as moms, we all have a Mother Teresa within ourselves. We donot want our kids to get even an iota of suffering in this world and in doing so we do more harm to them than we anticipate. We donot share our worries, our pains with them thinking they are kids.
Says Baldevji—if we are sick, we should act sick in front of the kids and teach them to care for us—by sitting beside us, accompanying along to the doctor and even share our social and economic problems with them so that they get to learn and realise that their parents are as human as others. We shouldnt attempt to fake ourselves as Godly or saintly figures in front of them who can provide them with panaceas to every problems or everything they ask for. If they learn to care for us from the early childhood then only will they care or feel for us in the later age.
Teach the child to share and do charity:

We often pamper our kids by telling them they’re special kids and all that is ours belongs to them. True it may be but we donot realise that this way we are grooming them as self centred egotists.
Baldev ji suggests that if you intend to do any charity or give any gift to anyone outside the immediate family—let your child do the giving act. This way they learn the art of sharing and giving.
Looks pretty common sense. I remember many a times I had to give some presents to other kid’s on their birthdays quietly, because my son would want them or would be disturbed by it being given away. I think I should have let him feel that way to make him learn that all is not ours.

Rest of the tips I obtained from my web search, are fairly commonsensical and probably we all are aware of most of them. But despite knowing it ” all”, time and again we omit them when we need to use them.

Withdraw from Conflict
If your child is testing you through a temper tantrum, or being angry or speaking disrespectfully to you, it is best if you leave the room or tell the child you will be in the next room if he wants to “Try again.” Do not leave in anger or defeat. I know very well how “easier said than done” this tip is!

Separate the Deed from the Doer
Never tell a child that he is bad. That tears at his self-esteem. Help your child recognize that it isn’t that you don’t like him, but it is his behavior that you are unwilling to tolerate. In order for a child to have healthy self-esteem, he must know that he is loved unconditionally no matter what he does. Do not motivate your child by withdrawing your love from him. When in doubt, ask yourself, did my discipline build my child’s self-esteem?

Use Logical Consequences
Often the consequences are too far in the future to practically use a natural consequence. When that is the case, logical consequences are effective. A consequence for the child must be logically related to the behavior in order for it to work. For example, if your child forgets to return his video and you ground him for a week, that punishment will only create resentment within your child. However, if you return the video for him and either deduct the amount from his allowance or allow him to work off the money owed, then your child can see the logic to your discipline.

God has indeed been very forgiving and kind to me and my husband as parents —despite all the major & minor follies—kids arent as bad as they could have been. They may not be “superkids” but I am still proud of them.
When we aspire to have “superkids”—we must question ourselves—

WERE WE SUPERKIDS WHEN WE WERE YOUNG?
Keep thinking….

Ilmana Fasih
23 November 2010.

TO BE AND NOT TO BE


Be kind but not timid,
Be strong but not rigid.
Be thoughtful but not lazy,
Be different but not crazy.
Be proud but not arrogant,
Be firm but not impertinent.
Be witty but not mocking,
Be concerned but not stalking.
Be daring but not reckless,
Be coool but not headless.
Be hott but not injurious,
Be intense but not ferocious.
Be smart but not cheapy,
Be chic but not creapy.
Be stylish but not outrageous,
Be inspiring but not contagious.
Be awesome but not conceited,
Be accepting but not defeated.
Be as twinkling as a shining star,
But most of all, be the person you are…

Ilmana Fasih
18 November 2010

HAVE A SHAY DAY…


Recieved this lovely story in an email from a very dear cousin.Thought it would be wonderful to share.
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its staff he began:

“Dedicated staff “,

‘When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection.

Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do.

Where is the natural order of things in my son?’

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. ‘I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.’

Then he told the following story:

Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, ‘Do you think they’ll let me play?’ I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, ‘We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning..’ Shay struggled over to the team’s bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt.. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to thePlate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over.The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman’s head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, ‘Shay, run to first! Run to first!’ Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, ‘Run to second, run to second!’ Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman’s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, ‘Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay’

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, ‘Run to third!Shay, run to third!’

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, ‘Shay, run home! Run home!’

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team

‘That day’, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, ‘the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world’.

Shay didn’t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

AND NOW A LITTLE FOOT NOTE TO THIS STORY:

We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate.

The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.

Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the ‘natural order of things.’ So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process? A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it’s least fortunate amongst them.
MAY YOUR DAY BE A SHAY DAY….
AND NOW MY TWO PENNY FOOTNOTE:
If not anyone else we can make a difference in the lives of our kids, spouse, siblings, parents, friends or even inlaws. There is nothing wrong in being a bit of a ‘cheat’ just to make some one else happy.
Let me share a secret today in my attempts at such a ‘cheating’.
* Whenever any of my kids would come home upset either by having had a fight with a friend or scolded by a teacher or not having got good grades or for not having been selected in a school’s team I would just let them vent out all their anger and then tell them to relax—which certainly they wouldn’t if they were too upset.
So later in the day I would fake with them that I feel like a kid today and want to play a board game with them—either a scrabble or a checker or even a snakes n ladders.
Most of the times my innocent son would comply to mama’s request and agree to play.
It’s another story that it used to be another task to make my upset daughter to agree to play—she would retort-
“I am upset and you feel like playing today.”
….and my plan would fizzle out miserably.
But innocent as my boy was (no more is), we would sit down playing mostly scrabble and I would deliberately make lousy small words and let make him make the big ones. He would be too excited that,
” Ammi’s English vocabulary is miserable.”
Ultimately he would win and forget all about what had happened earlier in the day.
As a result he grew up thinking he is ‘a scrabble master’ and even did attempt at looking up into the dictionary to make big fat words while playing.
I would be the happiest mother to lose and make him please.
My husband would give me mean looks later and comment—“Happy after doing a fraud with your own child, only if I knew it before—you wouldn’t be here in this house.”
Years passed by and my baby grew up.
After 3-4 years of not having played, last year in a cold, depressing winter day in Canada I told my son, ” It is so boring, how about playing a game of scrabble?”.
A 16 year old shrewd boy that he is now- -he smiled back at me and said:
“Okay Ammi but on one condition—that you will not deliberately lose the game with me today. Now I get why you played scrabble with me when I was a small idiot.”
I actually took it as a challenge and played with him, in with full competitive spirit trying my best to defeat him. Unfortunately, this time I actually lost. But was still as pleased as in the years gone by.
PS—I read it somewhere in a book by Freud that if you want to boost confidence of your child—lose a game with him/her.
MORAL OF THE STORY: It is Freud who is a fraud not ME :))
Ilmana Fasih
18 November 2010

Habba Khatoon – The nightingale of Kashmir


Habba Khatoon, was a legendary Muslim poetess that lived in Kashmir in the 16th Century. She was born, in the small village Chandrahar,known for its  saffron fields. It is known that she was extremely beautiful and hence named Zoon  (the Moon).

Unlike typical peasant girls, she learnt to  read and write from the village moulvi. She was married to a fellow peasant boy at an early age. Her new family  could not understand the relevance of her poetic being, which led to deeper differences with them with  each new day.  Feuds with the husband and mother in law turned abusive, and ultimately she was divorced.

She narrates in her own verse :

“The mother-in law grabbed me by my hair, which stung me more than the pangs of death. I fell asleep on the supporting plank of the spinning wheel, and in this way, the circular wheel got damaged. I cannot reconcile myself with the atrocities of the in laws, O! my parents, please come to my rescue.”

However, she bore all the torture with great patience,  until one day, her mother in law could not tolerate her tolerance, anymore.   She was separated from her husband  and sent to her parents home. To which she complained in anther verse,

“I have been waiting for long with extreme patience for you – O! my love (or Aziz) do not be cross with your moon (zoon)! I have adorned myself lusciously from top to toe; so enjoy my youth as lively and inviting as a pomegranate flower.”

Laden with pain and sorrow, she  resorted to writing more pensive  poetry and singing songs of separation,  in Kashmiri.

Zoon sang, roaming in the saffron fields and sitting under the shade of chinar trees.

One version of  her further life is :

One day,  in a fairy tale manner,  a prince Yusuf Shah Chak, was out hunting that way on horseback. He  passed by  the place where Zoon was singing under the tree.

He heard her melancholic melodies, and went to look at her and was stunned by her beauty. As soon as their eyes met, they fell in love. And soon,  Zoon and Yusuf Shah Chak were married. She was given the title of  Habba Khatoon.

The couple lived a ‘happily ever after’ life, and Yusuf Shah became the ruler of Kashmir, until Yususk Cahk was decieved and imprisoned by Mughal Emperor Akber.

The other version narrated by Birbal Kachroo and Hassan Khohyami :

” ‘Habba’ at such a tender and impressionably age could not recover from the rebuff she received at the very threshold of her conjugal life. Her despondency flowed out in the form of poetry pulsating with unartificial fusion of sound and sense. Her fame reached the amorous ears of Yusuf Shah, who admitted her to his harem as a ‘Keep’, and did not allow her the status of a queen.”

“So, when her paramour Yusuf  fell on bad stars, ( arrested by Akber) , Habba must have eaten her heart away in disgust and dismay. This was the second rebuff she received at the bands of the destiny, and this impulsive Lady unresponsive in love, unaccepted by the society still did not own defeat. She created an exuberant world of her own, punctuated it with her emotions resonant with the dirge of what she had got and what she lost. She lived in her thoughts, so to say.” 

It is said, Habba Khatoon languished in separation from her beloved husband, and composed several heart wrenching lyrics which she sang while wandering from village to village in the Kashmir valley.

One such original verse is:

مَنز سرایے لوسُم دوٕه

یارَ میانے یاون رایے
مَنز سرایے لوسُم دوٕه
کیازِ زایے کونہ موٍیایے
‎پوو کٓتھ کیُتھ سوِندر ناو
‎کاُلی وسُن چھُ میژِه شایے
‎مَنز سرایے لوسُم دوٕه
‎دور دنیا بوز طوفانیے
‎تورٕ روستُے لدَنَے آو
‎کور مے ساُلا یِرٕوُنہ نایے
‎مَنز سرایے لوسُم دوٕه
‎باغ بوستان بُلبُل آیے
‎مَنز چَمنَن ماُرِکھ ژھوِ
‎گُل گیہ بَرٕ بُلبُل ضایے
‎مَنز سرایے لوسُم دوٕه
‎تَتہ کٕریزیم پنُن سایے
‎ییتہ آسم محشرُن تاو
‎حبہ خوتون نادا لایے
‎مَنز سرایے لوسُم دوٕه

English Translation:

My friend‪,‬ this youth is loss
‏I lost all day on the way

‏Why were we born‪?‬
‏Why did we not die‪?‬
‏Why such beautiful name‪s?‬
‏We must wait for the Judgment Day
‏And I lost all day on the way

‏The way of the world is a meaningless storm
‏I invited a difficult fate
‏And I lost all day on the way

‏Many nightingales entered the garden
‏And they had their play
‏The flowers left the garden
‏To make way for the nightingales
‏And I lost all day on the way

‏Please protect me on the Day
‏Where there will be fire of Hell
‏Habba Khatoon will give you a call
‏And I lost all day on the way

Habba Khatoon introduced “lol”  ( please don’t read it ‘laugh out loud’ 🙂  ) to Kashmiri poetry.

 “lol” is more or less equivalent to the English ‘lyric’.

It conveys one brief thought and is full of melody and love.

Habba’s forte is love-in-separation. She has not sung even a single verse eulogizing the munificence of Yusuf Shah when she was in her company.  Habba like a born-poet selected ‘separation’ for her treatment of love. Her verses throughout waft an air of restlessness and not contentment. Calm, composure and resignation to be in turmoil to fate are absent in her poetry.” says  Prof KN Dhar.

An example of her Lol:

Lol of the Lonely Pine

The one who dazzles – have you seen that one ?

Upon him look !

A sleepless stream in search of him I run,

A restless brook.

In far off woods, a lonely pine I stood

Till he appeared,

My woodcutter, and came to cut the wood.

His fire I feared,

Yet though he burn my logs, behold I shine,

My ashes wine !

Here is a Habba Khatoon lol:


Ilmana Fasih
31 October 2010

Source: http://www.koausa.org/Poets/HabbaKhatoon/article2.html