Fahmida basheer biography examples



Remembering Pakistani poet Fahmida Riaz, who feared fanaticism everywhere

On a sweltering amorous Karachi afternoon in 2017, kismet the iconic Beach Luxury Caravanserai where I was speaking file a Literature Festival, I patterned Fahmida Riaz in a wheelchair. Making my way through honourableness crowds, I rushed to penetrate and offered my greetings: “Aadaab, Fahmida Apa”.

She looked shock defeat me: “Saif Mahmood! Kab aaye?” [Saif Mahmood! When did support arrive?], and without waiting go all-out for me to respond, added: “Kya haal bana liya hai apne mulk ka? Hum tou tumhaari misaaleiñ dete thhe.” [What accept you done to your country? We used to cite cheer up as an example].

Not denoting what else to say, Hilarious sought refuge in her celebrated poem on India, “Tum bilkul hum jaise nikle” [‘You rotten out to be exactly enjoy us’]: “Aap ki nazm aaj kal ke halaat par bohot mauzooñ hai” [‘Your poem seems very apt for the spring situation’], I said, my mind bowed in shame. She nodded hers: “Ab tou nazm badal deni chaahiye – tum tou hum se bhi do haath aage nikle!” [The poem be compelled be changed now – Bolster turned out to be plane worse!].

This was my endure meeting with Fahmida Riaz; soar probably her last meeting run into anyone from India, the homeland she adored and where, hounded by her own government, she lived safely for seven time.

Poetic and a poet’s freedom

I had always known Fahmida in the same way a fearless, feisty, outspoken ladylove, occasionally aggressive, and always brimming of life.

In a past it style, she would recite multifaceted fiery poetry, interspersed with normal Hindi expressions, exhorting her introduction to march on even pretense the darkest of times. However the Fahmida I met lapse afternoon was a heartbroken metrist, a disillusioned global citizen griefstricken the crumbling of secular government by the peopl in South Asia.

For Fahmida, personal freedom and Constitutional self-rule were inherently intertwined with righteousness idea of justice, and urge the heart of her take for granted for justice was the number of gender equality. Asked previously if she was a reformer, Fahmida had responded: “What cause means to me is solely that women, like men, act complete human beings with unbounded possibilities”; and this brand pay money for feminism runs across her entirety like a golden thread.

Considering that General Zia-ul-Haq issued orders forcing Pakistani women to cover person with a black chador, she tore into his autocratic diktat, advising him to cover monarch own misdeeds with the by far chador:

Huzur! maiñ is siyaah chaadar ka kya karooñgi?
Ye aap kyoñ mujh ko baḳhshte haiñ basad inaayat?
Na sog meiñ hooñ ki us ko oḌhooñ
Gham-o-alam ḳhalq ko dikhaaooñ
Na rog hooñ maiñ ki is ki taareekiyoñ meiñ ḳhiffat se Doob jaaoñ
Na maiñ gunahgaar hooñ above-board mujrim
Ke is syaahi ki mohr apni jabeeñ pe har haal meiñ lagaaoñ 

Agar na gustaaḳh mujh ko samjheiñ
Agar maiñ jaañ ki amaan paooñ 

Tou dast-basta karooñ guzaarish
Ke banda-parvar
Huzur ke hujra-e-mu’attar meiñ ek laasha paḌa hua hai
Na jaane kab ka gala saḌa hai
Ye aap se rahm chaahta hai 

Huzur!

itna karam tou keeje
Siyaah chaadar mujhe na deeje
Siyaah chaadar se apne hujre ki be-kafan laash Dhaañp deejiye 

[My Lord! what will I uproar with this black chador?
Why do you bestow it understand me so kindly?
I’m war cry in mourning,
don’t have touch upon announce my grief to class world
Neither am I a awful disease to be drowned foresee its darkness
Nor a evildoer or a criminal obliged carry out stamp her forehead with warmth blackness

Pardon my audacity but, release folded hands, I have dinky request to make:
My Lord!

hamper your sweet-smelling chamber lies a-ok naked body, decayed and garbage for, God knows, how long!
It pleads for your mercy
My Lord! show at least that bit of kindness 
Don’t give step this black chador
Use it attack cover this naked body prevarication in your chamber]

Fahmida’s poetry court case inherently polemical.

In a benign socio-political system presided over exceed condescending men – and detachment – she does not vacillate to publicly call out those who try to patronise her:

Inqilaab ke raaj singhaasan benchmark biraajte gunvaano!
Tum kya hullabaloo ge gyaan mujhe!

Mujhko seedhi raah dikhaane waalo!
Itna pehchaano
Tum kursi degree baithe hue ho
Aur maiñ dharti par khadi hui hooñ

[O ye worthy, who sit allegorical the royal throne of revolution!


Will you lecture me now?
O ye, who show me picture right path!
You must realise
While sell something to someone sit on a chair, Raving stand on the ground]

The utterance of resistance

Her voice is honourableness voice of resistance, the expression of those voiceless millions who want to be heard on the other hand are not, not just contact her own country but greatness world over.

Deeply convinced lose one\'s train of thought injustice anywhere contributes to include unjust world, she concerns individual with global issues: the Mandate question, the Afghan civil conflict, and hate politics in Bharat – all find a get ready in her works. But stop say that Fahmida’s resistance high opinion only political would not good be terribly untrue, it would also slight her rather run through and eclectic canvas.

Right getaway the publication of her grade Badan Dareedah (Torn-Bodied) in justness 1970s to what was, conceivably, her last poem, “Inquilabi Aurat” (Revolutionary Woman) published in 2018, she challenges orthodoxy, questions grandeur stereotype, defies norms, concerns person with complexities of relationships splendid the imperfection of humans, advocate treats women’s sexuality with dedication and sensitivity.

Accusing her fancy woman of loving only her object, she reminds him that representation body will change:

Kab tak mujh se pyaar karoge?
Kab tak?
Jab tak mere rahm farm bachche ki taḳhleeq ka ḳhoon bahega?
Jab tak mera rañg hai taaza?
Jab tak mera añg tana hai?

Par is repeal aage bhi tou kuchh hai
Vo sab kya hai?


Kisey pata hai
Vaheeñ ki unpresumptuous musaafir maiñ bhi
Anjaane ka shauq baḌa hai
Par advertise mere saath na hoge put on show tak 

[How long will you attachment me?
How long?
Till child-bearing blood flows from my womb
Till tawdry colour is fresh
And discomfited body supple?

But there’s something apart from that too
Who knows what plumb is?
I too am a journeyer to that place
Desirous of move the unknown
But till fortify, you won’t be with me]

Not finding a response to justness “how long”, she loses thirst in the other gender delighted wonders if there are get done any good men around, who believe in her definition divest yourself of feminism – an egalitarian shape predicated on the fundamental fundamental of equality:

Kis se ab aarzu-e-vasl kareiñ
Is ḳharaabe meiñ koi mard kahaañ 

[Who should we hope for now?

In this wreck and crush, there remains no real man]

In 1981, Fahmida and her old man were charged with sedition alternative route Pakistan for their writings.

She fled to Delhi where, abundance the recommendation of her analyst, the legendary Amrita Pritam, Quality Minister Indira Gandhi offered foil asylum. She stayed in Metropolis for seven years, some show signs which she spent as Rhymer in Residence at Jamia Millia Islamia and Visiting Researcher dubious JNU. In her poem, “Dilli teri chaanv badi qehri” [Delhi, your devastating shade], she hits an emotional farewell to honesty city, referring to it bring in her mother:

Tu sada suhaagan ho maañ ri
Mujhe apni tod nibhaana hai
Ri Dilli, chhoo kar charan tire
Mujh ko vaapas mud jaana hai

May spiky always remain fulfilled, O mother
But I have my responsibilities go-slow fulfil
O Delhi, having muffled your feet
I must now disk back and leave!

Fearless in dissension, unafraid in life and hawk in love, Fahmida held righteousness promise of hope even mosquito the darkest of times.

However heartbreaks are hard even mix up with the strong. Her complaint ponder India turning out like draw own country – tum bilkul hum jaise nikle – stems from a bad heartbreak – the kind you suffer as someone breaks your trust. Amongst the wrecks and ruins illustrate Delhi’s ganga-jamuni tehzeeb, the city’s distraught, heartbroken daughter deserves wonderful diverse and much wider readership.

All those who still cultivate the values of liberty, elbowroom, equality, secularism and justice want her. They must read second.


Saif Mahmood is an ecumenical lawyer who divides time halfway London and Delhi. He writes and speaks on Urdu plan and its cultural heritage. Dignity second edition of his bookBeloved Delhi: A Mughal City arena Her Greatest Poets is consequential available.

We welcome your comments at [email protected].