International Women's Day 2018: Years before #MeToo, Urdu feminist poet Kishwar Naheed spoke about oppression

For centuries, women across the world have been treated as being inferior to men, and the Indian subcontinent is no different in this respect. As winds of change were blowing from the West, other cultures did not remain untouched by progress. When talking about feminist ideals, thinkers and writers, we tend to look towards the West. Our subconscious, which still suffers under the weight of a colonial hangover, is so Eurocentric that we rarely recognise the women feminist writers from the subcontinent. There have been a number of women feminist authors who are writing (or, have written) in Urdu. Fehmida Riaz, Zahida Hina, and Azra Abbas are a few names in this vast galaxy of feminist writers. To make a case for feminist writings and poetry in Urdu, I will discuss Kishwar Naheed’s poems, who once said, “For a woman to write poetry and then to get it published was a revolutionary step in itself.” She led this revolution from the front; though Ada Jafri and a few others started getting published before her, it was Naheed who took on the task of challenging established social norms, especially patriarchal ones. [caption id=“attachment_4381903” align=“alignnone” width=“825”] Kishwar Naheed in performance. Image from Facebook/@akuglobal[/caption] In her book Galiyan Dhoop Darwaze (Lanes, Sunlight, Doors), published in 1978, she introduces herself in a poem titled ‘Kishwar Naheed’. She equates herself to all the women of the world and writes: Kishwar Naheed! Tum muh-band seepi ki tarah Zindagi ke samandar me Hawaao se baate karne Pahado ki buniyaad hilane Aur lehro ko apne baalo ki tarah kaat kar Sahil pe Guzishta ki rivaayati Aur aaj ki muzatrib Aurat ban kar soch rahi ho (Kishwar Naheed! Like an oyster with sealed lips In the ocean of life To talk with the winds To shake the foundations of the mountains And to trim the waves like your own hair On the shores Like the traditional woman of the past Like the rebel woman of today You are thinking) Very interestingly, she points to her own haircut, which in the orthodox Muslim Pakistan of the 1970s would be considered an act of courage. It was a statement in itself — that this was a woman who was ready to break norms. She further writes: Kishwar Naheed! Tumhe khamosh dekhne ki chahat Qabro se bhi umdi aa rahi hai Magar tum bolo (Kishwar Naheed! Even graves desire your silence But you should speak) Naheed attacks the previous generations for silencing women. She wants to speak out in the same society where women are not allowed to express themselves. Her most direct attack on patriarchy is a poem titled ‘Hum Gunahgar Auarate’ (We Sinful Women). She sarcastically points out how women who have an opinion on anything are slut-shamed: ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ jo ahl-e-jubba kī tamkanat se na roab khāeñ na jaan becheñ na sar jhukāeñ na haath joḌeñ (It is we sinful women Who are not awed by the grandeur, who wear gowns Who don’t sell our lives Who don’t bow our heads Who don’t fold our hands together) She says that it is because of patriarchy that independent women are seen as being ‘sinful’. A woman who holds opinions of her own is slut-shamed for standing against male dominance. ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ ki jin ke jismoñ kī fasl becheñ jo log vo sarfarāz Thahreñ niyābat-e-imtiyāz Thahreñ vo dāvar-e-ahl-e-sāz Thahreñ (It is we sinful women While those who sell harvests of our bodies Become exalted Become distinguished Become the just princes of the material world) Naheed asks why women who voice their opinions are labelled sinful, when the men who trade women as commodities are respected. ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ ki sach kā parcham uThā ke nikleñ to jhuuT se shāhrāheñ aTī mile haiñ har ek dahlīz pe sazāoñ kī dāstāneñ rakhī mile haiñ jo bol saktī thiiñ vo zabāneñ kaTī mile haiñ (It is we sinful women Who come out raising the banner of truth Against barricades of lies on the highways Who find stories of persecution piled on each threshold Who find the tongues which could speak have been severed) ye ham gunahgār aurteñ haiñ ki ab taāqub meñ raat bhī aae to ye āñkheñ nahīñ bujheñgī ki ab jo dīvār gir chukī hai use uThāne kī zid na karnā! (It is we sinful women Now, even if the night gives chase These eyes shall not be put out For the wall which has been razed Don’t insist on raising it again now) As we continue in our fight to ensure that marital rape is recognised as a violation of consent, and establish that abusive behaviour exhibited by husbands is a crime and not normal, she was writing extensively against domestic violence in her time. In one of her poems ‘Neelaam Ghar’ (Auction House), she writes: Tapte hue tannuur se jis tarah phooli hui rotiya bahar nikalti hain Mere muh par tamacha maar kar Tumhare haatho ki ungliyo ke nishan Phooli hui roti ki tarah Mere muh par sad rang ghubbare chodh jaate hain Tum haq wale log ho Tum ne mehar ke evaz haq ki boli jeeti hai (Just like swollen chapatis come out of the hot oven After slapping my face Marks of your fingers Like a swollen chapati Form coloured balloons over my cheeks You are righteous people You have won the right to me by paying ‘m_ehar_’) Naheed courageously writes about violence against women by mocking the Muslim tradition of paying mehar (dower) to the bride. She sheds light on how marriage has enabled men to dominate women, and how this behaviour is in turn sanctioned by religion. In another of her poems, Naheed asks women to break free from the barriers that are posed by the traditional roles they must play in the family. She writes: Behan, biwi aur maa ke rishto Ki khatir jine wali Tum apne liye bhi toh jiyo (For the relationships as sister, wife and mother You live Now live for yourself) It is not possible to present all the poems where she has attacked the purdah system, the very notion of a ‘shy girl’ and the institution of marriage which is used as a tool to oppress women, in one article. Naheed has also actively written against exploitation as well as the state-sponsored radicalisation of Pakistani society. It is important that we know about Urdu feminist writers in order to understand the problems faced by women in the subcontinent in general, and Muslim women in particular. Naheed expressed the hope that the youth, who can write and speak in English, will make Urdu and vernacular literature more accessible to people who could not read these languages. She writes, “Our young people who understand English or other international languages well may consider learning Urdu and their mother tongues with as much fervour as they learn English or French and then translate the literary works of our languages into others.” ‘Hum Gunahgar Auarate’ (We Sinful Women) has been translated by Rukhsana Ahmad. Saquib Salim is an independent socio-political commentator and historian