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KISHWAR NAHEED Poet, Writer, Editor and Researcher.
Born: February 3, 1940.
ADDRESS
IMPORTANT WORKS:
- More than 10 collections of poetry
- Two anthologies of English translations of poetry published in
India
- Sixteen Collections of children's books
- Women's Research Orientations in Social Sector
- Women Writers Contribution in Fiction in the Last Fifty Years.
- Autobiography
HONOURS:
- Adamjee Award for Literature
- UNESCO Prize for Children's Literature
- Best Translation award of Columbia University
- Women of Year nominated by America
- Mandela Award
by South Africa
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I Feel In My Bones
My mother moved, like the earth, slowly , very
slowly, imperceptibly. My mother cut, like water, through
rocks of grief, drop after drop after drop. My mother
endured, like the moon, every phase of pain, unfrowning ,
dauntless. My mother melted away, like a cloud , leaving
everything unsaid.
She watched day-colours pour from the sky. She watched
night dreams go soaring high. Her palms could hold a kilo of golden
wheat. Her arms could ring such manly bodies. Mother , see how
wretched we are, your mere shadows. Our breaths come heavy with
disease. Crops are blighted where our shadows fall -- only wounds
grow. Mother, you raised us in your arms, but how are we to gain
your virtues? How can we change our sins into beauty?
Anti-clockwise
Even if my eyes become the soles of your feet even so, the fear will
not leave you that though I cannot see I can feel bodies and
sentences like a fragrance.
Even if , for my own safety I rub my nose in the dirt till it
becomes invisible even so, this fear will not leave you that though
I cannot smell I can still say something.
Even if my lips, singing praises of your godlines become dry and
soulless even so, this fear will not leave you that though I cannot
speak I can still walk.
Even after you have tied the chains of domesticity shame and modesty
around my feet even after you have paralysed me this fear will not
leave you that even though I cannot walk I can still think.
Your fear of being free, being alive and able to
think might lead you , who knows into what
travails.
- translated from Urdu by Rukhsana Ahmed
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