Jan 02, 2023 | By Fatimah Asghar | American Poetry Review Verified. Her work is well-regarded in all circles and has been included in Poetry Magazine and other famous publications. I am four, sitting in a patch of grass Fatimah Asghar is an artist who spans across different genres and themes. Copyright 2010-2019, The Adroit Journal. he was there toothe day on Bens couch, wearingmy skirt, ranking the girls, in class. Yesterday meansI say goodbye, again.Kal means they are the same. The expansion of the popular landscape of poetry, Love Letter to the Eve of the End of the World, Recycling Poetry in a Time of Climate Change. I practice at night, the crater. Whether it be addressing stereotypes, practicing empathy, or honoring diversity, we hold a great deal of power in our actions and words. Their experiences mirror the game: move into any squarein any direction on the board, and a microaggression takes place; the only safe haven on the board sits in the center: Home. my father: sideburns down the length of his face my age now & ripe my age now & alive his husky voice's crackle like the night's wind through corn fields of bell-bottoms fields of pomade my mother's overlarge sunglasses crowded on her face crowded in the only . Asghar lost her parents young; with family roots in Pakistan and in divided Kashmir, she grew up in the United States, a queer Muslim teenager and an orphan in the confusing, unfair months and. Selected by Rita Dove. Epigraphs from Korean-American poet Suji Kwock Kim and Rajinder Singh, a survivor of the India/Pakistan Partition, and an explanation of the Partition prepare us for the painful, but necessary, poems to come. Just my body & all its oil, she writes near the end of the poem, summing up her alienation from a body brutally marked by race and war. Everywhere I look graves.Would I trust a God that promised me my family?Does it matter how, if theyre gone, twenty-five years, a gravewhats left of their remains? After great pain. As though I told you how the first time.Everyone always tries to theft, bring them back out the grave.Let them rest; my parents stay dead. in your family's house, you: runaway dog turned wild. She covers bruises & never lets us eat leftovers: a good wife.Its something in their nature: what america does to men. By Fatimah Asghar. an edible flower I draw a ship on the map. the day other kids shovedmy body into dirt & christened mehe appeared, boy, wicked, feral, swallowing my stride.the boy who grows my beard& slaps my face when I wax, my mustache. All the people I could be are dangerous. Sacraments Ladan Osman 62. In the same poem, the speakers sister defies Islamic law by shaving her arms, and Asghar writes in response, Haram, I hissed, but too wanted to be bare / armed & smooth, skin gentle & worthy / of touch. That is, until the sisters body betrays her with an ingrown hair that lands her in the hospital. With If They Come For Us Asghar joins a rich history of Partition literature. Jenny Zhang described a similar negotiation of the relationship between the poet and capital in the wake of the scandal surrounding Best American Poetry 2015, in which one of the contributors was revealed to be a white man writing under a Chinese womans name. Its a gesture taken up by many of her peersinstead of pandering to whiteness, writers like Chen Chen, Danez Smith, and Zhang write towards, and out of, their communities. Her work often celebrates her heritage, gender, and sexuality. Critics have often noted the gap between the staggering violence of Partitionwhich displaced over 14 million people and whose death toll is estimated to be 2 millionand its representation in literature. Multiple poems, all titled Partition, navigate not only the literal and historical meaning of the Partition, but also the divisions of the home, of gender, familyand, at times, how those divisions might be reconciled, if possible. If They Come For Us is a navigation of home and family, religion and sexuality, history and love. , is one of being gripped by the shoulders and shaken awake; of having your eyelids pinned open and unable to blink. These sly, adept poems work through circumstances under threat with audacity, humor, and wonder. Originally published in Poetry (March, 2017). From "Oil" by Fatimah Asghar | Poetry Magazine From "Oil" By Fatimah Asghar We got sent home early & no one knew why. Her poems do not solely inhabit the space between India and Pakistan, but push and elongate the border between these regions with words which explore self-perception, gender and sexuality, political oppression, and religion. Ashgar lost her parents at a young age, leaving her in a world where she had to derive cultural awareness and connection on her own. Now that youre older your auntie calls to say he hither again, that this didnt happen before he became american. These poems return to the question of what home means, asking what it is to be in a body that doesnt always feel like a safe place. The text, formed from the scraps of a burned notebook chronicling a circuitous reverse diaspora, is deliberately fragmented and refuses easy interpretation. have her forever. Later in the poem, Asghar directly addresses death, stating, in all our family histories, one wrong / turn & then, death. She edited The Penguin Anthology of Twentieth-Century American Poetry, and her Collected Poems: 1974-2004 was published in 2016. She refers to herself, not unlovingly, as a boy-girl. Towards the center of the poem, that desire for a guiding maternal figure enters with the lines, Mother, where are you? Kal meansshes holding my unborn babyin her arms, helping me pick a name. Neither human sympathy nor nature's bounty can fill the void left by her parents' early . Amid the hurt and darkness that exists in this world, Asghars poems prove that hope is out there, if only we have the courage to look for it. In these poems, Asghar invites us to stare into the wound andhopefullylearn from it. In the poem Microaggression Bingo, Asghar uses the physical image of a bingo board to highlight the frequency of those microaggressions the speaker faces on a daily basis. from the soil. In a later poem titled Oil, Asghar further grapples with her identity, writing My Auntie A says my people / might be Afghani. III Hajj. Most of all, Asghar implies that in order to belong, we must have the courage to stand out and grapple with pain. In a later poem titled "Oil," Asghar further grapples with her identity, writing "My Auntie A says my people / might be Afghani. An orphan grapples with gender, siblinghood, family, and coming-of-age as a Muslim in America in this lyrical debut novel from the acclaimed author of If They Come For Us In this heartrending, lyrical debut work of fiction, Fatimah Asghar traces the intense bond of three orphaned siblings who, after their parents die, are left to raise one another. Fatimah Asghar Poet, screenwriter, educator, and performer Fatimah Asghar is a Pakistani, Kashmiri, Muslim American writer. It is a paean to her familyblood and notwho she turns to steadily, out of the past and into a shared future: weve survived the long / years yet to come I see you map / my sky the light your lantern long / ahead & I follow I follow.. His "coven" of children the eldest, Noreen, followed by Kausar and Aisha is plummeted into orphanhood and watches his funeral on VHS. John talks about his new book Kontemporary Amerikan Poetry, learning how to focus Pat Frazier is the National Youth Poet Laureate of these here United States, and alone. But as important as those revelations and experiences are, the feeling Im left with after reading through these difficult but necessary poems is one of optimism. The poem begins with the 2014 terrorist attack on The Army Public School in Peshawar, forcing Ashghar to question whether we are meant to lower [our babies] into the ground / from the moment they are born. Asghars tone is pensive as she grapples with the notion of something as brutal and wrongful as death proximate to young individuals who have yet to understand what it means to be threatened. I count / all of the oceans, blood & not-blood / all of the people I could be, / the whole map, my mirror. Unsure of her home in America, Asghar finally feels that she has a place in the world and takes pride in her Afghani heritage. But with this understanding, Asghars compact yet clear prose also reminds audiences that, although pain exists in our world, we must reckon with our role in creating a more just community. Blood is an unwieldy metaphor. Tomorrow means I might. Sign up for the Asian American Writers' Workshop Newsletter: Asian American Writers Workshop Orphaned as a child and marginalized in America, Asghar captures the plight of alienation on a personal and political scale. This item is part of a JSTOR Collection. Home is the first grave. Our Mothers Fed Us Well Yasmin Belkhyr 70. In Oil, she recalls losing her parents as a child and going to elementary school during the beginning of the War on Terror: Two hours after the towers fell I crossed the ship I have a boy inside me & I dont knowhow to tell people. Men, take & take & yet you idolize them still, watchyour auntie as she builds her silent altar to them. revealed to be a white man writing under a Chinese womans name. For poet Fatimah Asghar, the word 'orphan' has more than one meaning. Kal means shesdancing at my wedding not-yet come. "Oil" serves as the flimsy motivation for the invasion of Iraq, and also a stand-in for everything Asghar has lost as an orphan and as a brown girl during the War on Terror. just in case, I hear her say. Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Glacier and Good Fossil Fuels, Two scholars exchange letters on poetry and climate. An epigraph describing the hard factsat least 14 million forced to migrate, fleeing ethnic cleansing and retributive genocide, 1 to 2 million estimated dead, an estimated 75,000 to . She expands the scope of Partition to include the violence of WWII, the Islamophobia of post-9/11 America and Trump, Beyonc, the partitioning of the apartment she grew up in. In 2017, she was a recipient of the Ruth Lilly and Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry Fellowship from the Poetry Foundation and listed on Forbess 30 under 30 list. In America, the place that is ostensibly home, the speaker faces that rejection both in her family life and in society at large. I read another poem of Fatimah's, entitled, "Oil," and in it, she speaks about what it was like for her as a child after 9/11. youre kashmiri until they burn your home, she writes in the first Partition poem, delineating the ways bodies and identities are at the whim of the shifting logic of borders. Neither human sympathy nor natures bounty can fill the void left by her parents early deaths; the ferocious melancholy of that single-word refrain circles their absence as if to say: There is no escaping a loss this large only endurance. Does it matter how? And yet, even when were told some of these memories and experiences are not the the speakers, they still are, somehow. We work to amplify poetry and celebrate poets by fostering spaces for all to create, experience, and share poetry. Asghar chooses to conclude this intricate choreography with the titular poem If They Come For Us. In this piece, Asghars lyrical prose intensifies as she leaves readers with tangible revelations about the simultaneous pain and joy of having ones being so intimately tied to a land. Fatimah Asghar is a South Asian American poet and screenwriter. "In. [17], When We Were Sisters was longlisted for the inaugural Carol Shields Prize for Fiction in 2023.[18]. How we master the forms we choose to write in and speak back to our own traditions is a personal choice, writes Momtaza Mehri in her critical defense of instagram poets like Rupi Kaur, who is often accused of commodifying trauma and her own marginalization as a brown woman. Every single person that visits Poem Analysis has helped contribute, so thank you for your support. togetherwe watched it throb, open & closebegging for wet. Like Dark Noise and Zhang, Mehri insists on a poetics that pushes back at the limiting prescriptions of a white capitalist publishing machine: We have the right to our own specificity., Asghar, too, asserts that right. But Asghar recognizes the limits and violence of language. Her references to pop music, odes to her pussy, and jokes about microaggressions are purposefully incongruous, and with them she defies the gaze that Zhang and Mehri write about. [15], "Often, our friends joke that we are each others life partners, or 'real wifeys.'" scraped wrists & steady poundinghis eyes wide, untilhe stopped making a sound. like your little cousin who pops gum & wears bras now: a stranger. [9] In an unofficial manifesto, their Call for Necessary Craft and Practice, Dark Noise urges writers and artists to join them in a shared creative practice that is anti-capitalist, anti-racist, and refuses to turn away from the unjust political times we find ourselves in. The document recognizes the poet as someone whose work is inevitably tied to power and profit. The novel follows the coming of age of three sisters who are orphaned following the sudden murder of their father. Kalmeans I wake to her strange voice. In Other Body, Asghar writes, In my sex dreams a penis / swings between my legs, and mentions how her moustache grew longer than anyone elses in her class at school. Everyday she prays. Shes also this weeks guest. In the opening pages of Fatimah Asghar's When We Were Sisters, an immigrant father leaves home to get bunk beds for his three children and is murdered in the street. Snake Oil, Snake Bite Dilruba Ahmed 73 an aunt teaches me how to tell However, the paragraph failed to address the bloody legacy of the great dividethe violence entrenched within the border, the millions of Hindus and Muslims who trekked in opposite directions, and those who were unsure of which land they belonged to. The anthology opens with a striking poem titled For Peshawar, dated December 16th, 2014. In her poem "For Peshawar," Fatimah Asghar writes, "Every year I manage to live on this earth / I collect more questions than I do answers." The questions her poems ask are painful, but necessary: "How do you kill someone who isn't afraid of dying?" "Are all refugees superheroes?" "Do all survivors carry villain inside them?" it makes of my mouth. Poetry & my boy, my lovely boyhe clawed & bit & cried just likewe were back on the dirt playground. She motions readers like myself towards a more compassionate understanding of history which has been narrated by vagueness beyond a 300-word synopsis that tries to encapsulate an intricately layered pastand a realization that violence can live through generations. Fatimah Asghar's brilliant offering is a dexterous blend of Old World endurance and New World bravado. I think we are at war! on visits back your english sticks to everything. The editors discuss Fatimah Asghars poem Main Na Bhoolunga from the March 2019 issue of Poetry. When Rivka reached out to me to do a profile on Fatimah Asghar, I could not have been more excited to interview someone whose work has affected me so much personally. Her work is well-regarded in all circles and has been included in Poetry Magazine and other famous publications. I buried it under a casket of scribbles / All of the people I could be are dangerous / The blood clotting, oil in my veins. With the tragic destruction of the Twin Towers during 9/11, Asghar returns to a place of discomfort and hesitancy of her originsquestioning whether she could carry her cultural heritage with pride or trauma in a grieving, post-9/11 America that views individuals like her with fear and distrust. Fatimah Asghar these are my people & I find them on the street & shadow through any wild all wild my people my people a dance of strangers in my blood the old woman's sari dissolving to wind bindi a new moon on her forehead I claim her my kin & sew the star of her to my breast the toddler dangling from stroller hair a fountain of dandelion seed Her poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Southern Indiana Review, The Chattahoochee Review, Shenandoah, The Pinch, and elsewhere. "I have no blood. In 2011 she created a spoken word poetry group in Bosnia and Herzegovina called REFLEKS while serving a Fulbright fellowship, where she studied theater in post-genocidal countries. Her work often celebrates her heritage, gender, and sexuality. these are my people & I findthem on the street & shadowthrough any wild all wildmy people my peoplea dance of strangers in my bloodthe old womans sari dissolving to windbindi a new moon on her foreheadI claim her my NCTE, Common Core, & National Core Arts Standards. The experience of reading Fatimah Asghar's debut book of poems, If They Come For Us, is one of being gripped by the shoulders and shaken awake; of having your eyelids pinned open and unable to blink. Again? The muse in literature is a source of inspiration for the writer. Threads of embodying courage in the face of danger are woven into the anthology, building on Asghars initial juxtaposition of death and resilience in For Peshawar'' and Gazebo. Asghar, who has a fierce reputation of wielding words packed with sharpness and intelligence, likewise challenges the conventional practices of writing poetry. | Only the air was heavy and moist, like the breath of an enormous, mysterious beast. Blood versus oil, the girl she knows herself to be versus the political self, victimized by the state. Fatimah Asghar is the author of the poetry collection If They Come for Us (One World/Random House, 2018) and the chapbook After (Yes Yes Books, 2015). Kal means Im in the crib. Her selfhood is foreclosed by 9/11 and the resulting culture of fear and xenophobia: the ship sinks, her blood clots. Academy of American Poets, 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038, my people I follow you like constellations. Asghars book opens with invocations of history. out on the map. Please choose below to continue. A poet, a fiction writer, and a filmmaker, Fatimah cares less about genre and instead prioritizes the story that needs to be told and finds the best vehicle to tell it. Fatimah Asghar is an award-winning poet, whose widespread collection of poetry, If They Come for Us, has created her international fame. The experience of reading Fatimah Asghars debut book of poems, If They Come For Us, is one of being gripped by the shoulders and shaken awake; of having your eyelids pinned open and unable to blink. I yelled to my sister knapsacks ringing against our backs. Just my body & all its oil," she writes near the end of the poem, summing up her alienation from a body brutally marked by race and war. The 1947 partition of India and Pakistan is rarely addressed in American history textbooks and classes, much less in literature. opens with the lines: Again? Simply and profoundly, her book is a love poem for Muslim girls, Queens, and immigrants making sense of their foreign home--and surviving." But, through these inheritances, there is also care and comfort, sweetness and love, that provide structure to our identities, bodies, and imaginations: For the fire my people my people / the long years weve survived the long / years yet to come I see you map / my sky the light your lantern long / ahead & I follow I follow., The Nassau Literary Review5534 Frist CenterPrinceton, NJ 08544. Used with the permission of the poet. Thats what lays at the heart of my artistic practice, is building small enclaves of brave space where we can see each other as whole, human, real, says Asghar of her work. The speaker of these poems appears at once old and incredibly new, a dichotomy that is upheld as the narrative jumps from past to present and all over the last century. Back of the throatto teeth. She is also the writer and co-creator of the Emmy-nominated Brown Girls, a web series that highlights friendships between women of color. The vacancy left by this chasm, glossed over as just another territorial battle in world history classes, is the central focus of Fatimah Asghars If They Come for Us, an anthology of poems which delves into the bare crevices of the India-Pakistan divide. The cultural memory that lives in the speakers body is inescapable, but rather than run from it, she faces it boldly, writes it down, and shares it. Its estimated that 1-2 million people died and 75-100,000 women were abducted and raped in the ensuing months.) Stop living in a soap opera yells her husband, freshfrom work, demanding his dinner: american. Thank you for your support. Asghar's identity as an orphan is a major theme in her work, her poem "How'd Your Parents Die Again?" Can't blame me for taking a good idea. just in case. But whenever its on you watchthem snarl like mad dogs in a cagethese american men. You can withdraw permission at any time or update your privacy settings here. "[14], In 2017, Asghar and Sam Bailey released their acclaimed web series Brown Girls. How would / you have taught me to be a woman? Partition, the 1947 cleaving of British-ruled India into three separate countries, India, Pakistan, and now-Bangladesh, serves as the central trauma of the collection. 112 W 27th Street, Suite 600 in the kitchen. I think we are at war! Poems covered in the Educational Syllabus. Translation: "I won't forget.". Fatimah Asghar is a South Asian American poet and screenwriter. In For Peshawar, Asghar introduces readers to the seemingly comfortable rhetoric around death and the regularity of losing loved ones amidst injustice. crawling away from her, my fatherback from work. Raye was a finalist for the 2018 Keene Prize for Literature and received honorable mentions for poetry from both Southern Humanities Reviews Witness Poetry Prize (2014) and AWPs Intro Journals Project (2015). An East Asian nematode is threatening the European eel population, Poems, correspondence, essays, and reportage on how we perceive and write about climate change, How we perceive and write about climate change, Katrina Bellos exquisite drawings of the vast and the miniscule in nature, Climate change and development threaten the indigenous fisherfolk communities of Mumbai. The poem is composed of free unrhymed verse in a single stanza. I learned that India had been split into two, with Hindus residing in Indian territories and Muslims living in Pakistan. The two main characters are a queer Pakistani-American writer and an African-American musician and are played by Nabila Hossain and Sonia Denis respectively. FATIMAH ASGHAR From "Oil" We got sent home early & no one knew why. With uniquely crafted poems which take the form of floor plans, bingo boards, and crossword puzzles, she shows her audience what it feels like to be constantly told that you dont belongwhat it means to feel threatened, yet confidentin a world torn apart by marginalization. Fatimah Asghar is a Pakistani, Kashmiri, Muslim American writer. he was there. Zhang pointed to the lose-lose situation writers of color face: Pander to the white literary establishment by exploiting trauma for publication, or risk being ignored and silenced. The books opening poem, For Peshawar, immediately draws the reader into the lasting conflict and fear with an epigraph that reads, December 16, 2014 / Before attacking schools in Pakistan, the Taliban sends kafan, / a white cloth that marks Muslim burials, as a form of psychological trauma. Likewise, the first stanza unsettles, introducing readers to the threads of grief and uncertainty that weave through the rest of the poems: From the moment our babies are born / are we meant to lower them into the ground? More than grief, though, this poem, and the poems that follow, drive the narrative into questions of home: Can a place be home if the people who live there, as For Peshawar questions, are meant to bury their children? / A man? And again, in The Last Summer of Innocence, questions of the role of the body, and of gender norms, resurface. gives readers lyrically beautiful but painfully true glimpses into a world we may not be familiar with and asks us to reckon with our place in itwhether thats a place of commiseration, understanding, or of recognizing our own hand in upholding power structures that thrive off racism, xenophobia, and nationalism. The towers fell two weeks, I know that words not meant for me but I collect words, where I find them. If They Come For Us gives readers lyrically beautiful but painfully true glimpses into a world we may not be familiar with and asks us to reckon with our place in itwhether thats a place of commiseration, understanding, or of recognizing our own hand in upholding power structures that thrive off racism, xenophobia, and nationalism. As a poet, Asghars work is deeply tied to collectivity and community. It is largely written in lower case, with the . until theres a border on your back., The collections titular poem is its final one. your own auntie calls you ghareeb. Main Na Bhoolunga. Kal means shes oiling my hairbefore the first day of school. What is home if its a place youve never been to and cant touch? I read and reread the vague words, searching for a more robust explanation, personal accounts, or primary documents, but ultimately concluded that the India-Pakistan divide was only as significant as the condensed 300-word synopsis made it out to be. This conflict ended in anything but compromise. But as important as those revelations and experiences are, the feeling Im left with after reading through these difficult but necessary poems is one of optimism. After the Orlando Shooting Juniper Cruz 65. Examples include both visual and verbal instances, like the first square, which reads, White girl wearing a bindi at music festival, and another on the bottom row where an unnamed speaker says, I love hanging out with your family. hyundai stereo wiring diagram, Comfortable rhetoric around death and the regularity of losing loved ones amidst injustice is... Suite 600 in the Last Summer of Innocence, questions of the Brown! Inspiration for the inaugural Carol Shields Prize for Fiction in 2023. [ 18.! Been to and cant touch the breath of an enormous, mysterious beast belong, we must the... Age of three sisters who are orphaned following the sudden murder of their father versus... 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