This is
a critical appreciation of Taslima Nasrin’s poem in Celebrating India Love without
Borders published by Nivasini Publishers.
Everything said here is my personal interpretation and should not be taken
as the publisher’s or poet’s point of view
Fire by Taslima
Nasrin
He is my husband, the dictionary says that he’s
my
chief, lord, master, et cetera et cetera
Society agrees that he is my god.
My doddering old husband has learned well
the prevailing rules and regulations to exert
authority
He’s very eager to stroll over the bride of
eternity
to the glittering realm of paradise,
he wants all kinds of fruits, brightly-coloured
cordials and delicious foods,
he lusts after
the fair-skinned bodies of bouris to chew, suck
and lick.
Nothing’s written on my forehead but ill fate,
I spend my lifespan in society thrusting chunks
of firewood
into the oven of these earthly days.
In the afterlife I see my doddering husband
exult over the seventy-seven pleasures of sex.
I am alone, in the joyous garden of paradise I’m
alone.
Watching the blind obscenity of men
I burn inside in the everlasting fires of hell,
a chaste and virtuous woman.
At the
face of it, what might come across as a purely feminist point of view, hides
within its covers, a much deeper meaning than the subject of the poem, that
being, the subjugation of women by men because society too supports and
propagates this way of life. Whether a man is lame, old, deaf or dumb, his
position, vis-a-vis women is always that of superiority. Taslima Nasrin laments
this position and burns with anger within, yet must accept this as her ‘fate’
because, the man in her poem is her husband. And although she is seething
inside, she must bear silently, as he enjoys all the luxuries of life,
including his enormous appetite for women and sex.
But, if
one looks deeper, the reader may see many other levels to this poem. For
instance, from a psychological point of view, there is forever a conflict
within the mind, between the norms of society outside and the desires of the
female body inside. And although she herself is capable of far more intensity
in love and sex, women allow the norms of society to bind them. The pleasure
deriving sexual object she can luxuriate in, is in deep conflict within her,
and must find her expression, mostly out of the normative framework of society,
rather than within it. Hence, standing on the periphery and talking of the chains
she is bound in, is to some extent, in my opinion, redundant.
From a
philosophical point of view, the purusha/prakriti,
outside/inside dynamics is the larger
picture of the world. There is an inherent attraction/resistance
in the very coexistence of these two phenomenons. What Taslima Nasrin does not
spell out in her poem is what she is doing about this state of injustice.
Seething in anger, but bearing it silently, because it is her ‘fate’ is a
passive reaction to the situation. Unless she is willing to turn a submissive
to an active, the purpose of lamenting the state is uninspiring.
From a
personal point of view, the poet’s lamentation is indicative of her own state
of being, the prisoner in her own body, which might agitate but is far from
being free of the shackles that a male dominated society has bound around her.
Thus, the poem expresses in no uncertain terms, her anger, which we can easily
assume to be directed towards herself, only.
Taslima
Nasrin, is a doctor by profession, who prefers to follow her passion for
writing prose and poetry and is socially involved in bringing about change
through the power of the written word. She shot to fame when she authored Lajja, which brought forth the wrath of
the clergy in her own land, Bangladesh and ever since, she has been a resident
of many lands. “In 1992, she won a major
Kolkata literary Award for a collection of her co-ed columns and essays that
criticised political leaders, literacy figures, and conservative religious
values that conspired to oppress women.” (pg 183, Celebrating India Love Without
Borders). Between these years she attempted to seek asylum in India, living in
Kolkata, but was finally not granted it. Her heart-wrenching plea that she
found Kolkata closest to her ‘home’ went debated, but not granted.
“Because of her thoughts and ideas, she has been
banned, blacklisted and banished from Bengal, both from Bangladesh and West
Bengal part of India. She has been prevented by the authorities from returning
to her country since 1994, and to West Bengal since 2007.”(https://www.newsintervention.com/author/taslimanasreen/ )
Needless
to say, the anger inside her must be so self-consuming, that it has tinted her
tongue and her poem. It is her own state of alienation she is speaking of in
the poem, where she is the protagonist, the shackled prisoner burning in anger,
the woman.