July 15, 2013
Women have invented agriculture and they have helped to organize the collection rational use of water in associated groups the dawn of time. Women have been created and re-created safe places for everyone, and they have also allowed the males to pass on the language and signs, history and biography of the group and the clan. Over the centuries, the title and the names of those who have held the technologies of speech and memory, were males.
The safe house that has always been a source of life, the woman was, and is also the dark prison of chains that were imposed in physical violence, and in the words of ordering the world and time.
The women, however, have sought autonomy in the activities of production, trade in manufactured goods of the earth and of the culture and memory. More than two billion women in the house, as prisoners sentenced to life imprisonment, on leave only with the bridegroom to the marriage or accompanied by a male relative’s funeral, holding the small economy that allows another two billion and more of people to work below cost for the powerful and the place for the technologically advanced countries.
Always in groups and on my own, women have tried to stand still and today and for ever more, as owners of their own autonomous subjectivity of one’s own body and at least be able to declare their status of minority. And they remain a mute Gender.
Nadia Anjuman was born approximately in 1980 was an Afghan poet and journalist. In 2005, while still a student at Herat University, published a book of poems entitled Gul-e-dodi (“Dark Red Flower”), released immediately in Afghanistan, Pakistan and parts of Iran. He spoke of himself, and of all, no offense, let the emotions show and she showed that even a woman can speak totally in the world apart from taxation thousands of years. In addition, together with other women, she created a circle of literary studies of William Shakespeare and Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Nadia Anjuman – Picture taken HERE
And she made it clear the issue:
I AM IN THIS CORNER IMPRISONED
I am trapped in this corner full of melancholy and sorrow. My wings are closed and I can not fly.
Because you can not talk, but the poem is older than the written text, because it leaves the body:
NO DESIRE TO OPEN MY MOUTH
[…]
My mouth should be sealed.
Oh, my heart, you know, is the source.
And time to celebrate.
What should I do with a wing stuck?
That does not allow me to fly.
I have been silent for too long.
[…]
I am not a weak poplar
which is shaken by the wind.
I am an Afghan woman.
And (my) sensitivity leads me to complain.
Because the chains may not contain air, breath and poetic inspiration.
CHAINS OF STEEL
How many times has been removed from the lips
my song, and how many times it has been
the muted murmur of my poetic spirit!
The meaning of joy was
buried by the fever of sadness.
If my verses with you to notice a light:
this would be the fruit of my deepest imaginings.
My tears were not used to anything
and I am left with nothing but hope.
Although I am a daughter of the town of poetry,
my verses were mediocre.
Picture taken by David Walker HERE
Although I am a daughter of the town of poetry,
my verses were mediocre …
And I say happy archives:
but they were the same rhythmic
from the body of the poet,
who feel the soul of a people
and a genre between the ages and continents,
and that transmits voice primordial
in redefining the world at the turn of time.
Nadia Anjuman was finally silenced by her husband on 4 November 2005.
