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DINA
DAWN - the Internet Edition


December 30, 2002 Monday Shawwal 25, 1423
Features


Christmas in Karachi
A good-bye and a welcome: KARACHI FILE
Anis bicentenary function held
It is self-serving idealism, not pragmatism Gen sb.: VIEW FROM MARGALLA
A Moment of Silence, Before I Start....



Christmas in Karachi


Christmas came and went, and was widely celebrated as a community festival in Karachi this year too. The city’s many Catholic and Protestant churches and cathedrals held the midnight and early morning masses, people went to the amusement parks and places of recreation as usual. All this, while secretly feeling a sense of insecurity after reports rolled in of an attack on a Daska church in Punjab that left three people dead and many injured.

Isolated Christian communities, like those living in an enclave in the heart of Liaquatabad, for instance, felt a bit more vulnerable; but thankfully the day passed off without any untoward incident. The government, for once, made sure that places of worship and other Christian institutions in the city had adequate police presence around them to keep stray terrorists and trigger-happy miscreants away.

The city bazaars, particularly the Saddar area, wore a festive look in the run-up to Christmas. Shops were decked up and the season’s discounts were offered generously to Christian shoppers, some of whom were seen scurrying through the narrow Bohri Bazaar lanes looking for last-minute gifts for their near and dear ones.

Across the M.A. Jinnah Road in Garden, where an upwardly mobile Goan-Christian middle-class has a larger presence, the mood was a bit different. Sad memories of the September attack on a Christian NGO in Rimpa Plaza featured in discussions.

Since the Goan community is better educated and more aware, the prevalent sense of fear in the larger community found ample articulation here. But then there were the Christmas treats, the starry-lit trees to cheer up the surroundings, the stuffed stockings to dig into, the puddings and the turkey dinners with family and friends to indulge in and drown one’s worries.

In the end, it was all jingle bells like on any other Christmas, with prayers offered and hopes expressed for a safer, more prosperous, year ahead for the community and for Pakistan. Priests and leaders thanked the city administration for providing the community with adequate protection.

Gratitude — it is aptly said — is a very Christian value indeed.

Rainy day blues


Rain in Karachi is often a mixed blessing. For all the joys of witnessing a sudden downpour in this arid metropolis, one has to put up with the attendant miseries of traffic jams, power breakdowns and comatose phone lines.

Last week’s unseasonal winter rain took most people by surprise. It began on Monday morning and carried on for a couple of hours with unusual ferocity. Children went berserk at the sight of this unexpected manna pouring down from the skies and ran outdoors to have fun. Meanwhile, billboards came crashing down all over the city and roads became lakes with deadly potholes lurking beneath their surface. The rain slaked the thirst of the parched landscape and the normally dust-brown trees suddenly emerged in their true colours.

The roads were festooned with snapped wires, both of the benign telephone variety and the deadly electricity type. The cloudburst coincided with the wedding season in the city, causing some anxiety to those opting for outdoor bashes. One late night downpour wrecked a couple of weddings, with watery qorma, runny make-up and ruined hairdos the order of the day.

At one such gathering, a large speaker got drenched and exploded in protest —- not before making some distinctly unmusical noise. Some people had called up the met office after the morning storm to check if more rain was expected in the evening. A gentleman attending the phone told one caller rather confidently that “no weather was expected in Karachi” that day! Tell that to the drenched aunties holding plates of watery biryani.

But like all good things, it was all over too soon, leaving a trail of muddy roads and runny noses in its wake.

Promoting illiteracy


If the majority of the people in Pakistan cannot read and write, does everyone have to be treated as though s/he is illiterate? That is what the government believes in doing. There are not many departments which bother to give written instructions with application forms when documents have to be submitted. In fact obtaining information about the most innocuous and mundane of matters can prove to be a challenge of the biggest order because ours is not a culture of literacy. Clearly written signs are generally conspicuous by their absence.

Take the passport office as an example. For renewing your passport you can obtain the application form by giving a photocopy of your expired/ expiring passport. But other details are listed on a blackboard in the passport office - it’s another matter if the writing is not too legible.

When a colleague went to get her passport renewed, she had to make two trips just to submit the application because she failed to attach the required number of all the supporting documents. She had not been given the full information when the form was collected.

When she suggested to the passport officer that written instructions should be attached to the form for the benefit of the applicants, he came out with the counter-suggestion: “You are a journalist. Please write about it!”

If nothing, illiteracy has spawned a big services sector — the munshis and clerks who crowd around all offices where forms have to be filled — be they post offices, consulates or the passport offices. Thousands would lose their jobs if literacy reached the 100 per cent mark. Is the government’s education policy, which promotes illiteracy, designed to help this class?

Wedding mania


The wedding season has hit Karachi with a bang and it’s been quite a nightmare for those with multiple invitations in their pockets. People have been criss-crossing the metropolis till late into the night rushing from a cousin’s mehndi to a colleague’s walima via the maasi’s daughter’s big day. One friend says she has attended six weddings over the last ten days, which can often amount to 18 different functions, not to mention the pre-marriage dholkis. The amount of biryanis and qormas consumed over this period will soon manifest themselves at the waistline in due course.

Finding outfits for the different occasions has not exactly been easy. For those arranging weddings, finding the right venue has also been a nightmare. With all the usual places booked solid through December months in advance, people seemed to have pitched their shaadi tents wherever they found an empty space. On a trip from Clifton to Gulshan, a friend counted 116 weddings —- and this is only on the main roads. Small lanes too have been crammed, and many roads been blocked off altogether.

If you have been through the rigmarole of too many weddings crammed into too few days, you must be totally exhausted by now. Given how late most functions begin, people have been known to crawl home bleary eyed at 4 am, catch up on some sleep despite acute indigestion, somehow survive a day at work and then get on the shaadi roller coaster once again.

Three cheers for the police


Seldom does an occasion arise when one feels like saying three cheers to the Karachi police. One such incident occurred recently when the Boat Basin police station responded to an emergency call with the proverbial efficiency of the Swiss police.

It was around midnight when a small number of uninhabited hutments and some inflammable waste lying in a vacant plot located between two blocks of flats in Clifton Block 2 caught fire. At one stage it appeared as if the fire would spread to the two high-rise residential towers. On receiving the call, a police party reached the place in no time, mobilized the people of the area and, using the water from a tanker which was readily available at one of the blocks of flats, extinguished the fire. It was indeed a demonstration of courage and exemplary efficiency.

It was a pleasant surprise to see the Karachi police rise to the occasion and come up to the expectations of the citizens. Bravo Karachi police! Keep it up!—By Karachian

Email: karachi_notebook@hotmail.com/

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A good-bye and a welcome: KARACHI FILE


By A. B. S. Jafri

IF many of us may find it rather hard to say that the year 2002 was a good one, quite a few would be willing to settle for ‘Not Bad.’ To be honest, Karachi had seen some terrible years before the one that is saying good-bye to us now. As compared with the years spent under the governments of Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif, it was a less disturbed twelve-month period.

They say grumbling can be good for health. It lets the steam out. Goodness knows the average man and woman in this city is very good at grumbling. Perhaps because there is so much to be perpetually grumbling about. Take the air we breathe. It is far from clean, let alone wholesome. What is redeeming about unclean air is that it is the same for all of us - the filthy rich and the poor alike.

Opinion would differ (as it must in a democratic ambience) whether air is less clean in Karachi or the water we get. There is no counting the complaints about the quality of water we drink and wash with. Going by complaints, we shall have to conclude that water in Karachi is more unclean than the air. This is like saying the hungry lion’s teeth are more deadly than the cobra’s fangs. Both kill - dirty water and unclean air.

By comparison, the water problem would seem to be the more to be deplored. It has two sides, both unlovely. It is unclean and also inadequate. So many localities just do not get enough water. Paucity is complicated by fitful supply. You never know if you would get water, nor how much of it will come through on any day. There is no such uncertainty about air. The air would be there. Thank goodness for small mercies. What would make the passing year look less of a torment than has been the wont of this city is the near absence of political unrest, rumpus, or turmoil. We witnessed less of mysterious disappearance or killing, barring the terrorist violence. No doubt, there have been reports of extortion (Bhatta) but relatively fewer than in the ‘90s. A great deal has been said about the way the general election was conducted and gone through. Campaigning here was not marred by the kind of violence seen elsewhere.

It was largely business as usual in crimes related to motorcars and motorcycles.

The term more often used about this crime has been ‘lifted.’ Perhaps ‘stolen’ or ‘snatched’ sounded less elegant, or just too banal or routine. Or, may be this crime was seen to be out of the ordinary, calling for a special idiom. So, this kind of ‘lifting’ has continued with such regularity that it has ceased to be worth writing home about. No big headlines.

The city has seen a surge of publicity about the special “Madadgar 15” service by the city police. Once in a while, newspapers have carried letters from appreciative citizens who found it worth their while to dial “15.” One must say a good word where it may be due. Some years ago, the Islamabad police sponsored a jingle on PTV that said: “Police ka hai farz madad aap ki.” In Karachi “15” is making news, but without that kind of jingle. Is it modesty?

One doesn’t have statistics readily available but the impression is growing that there were more deaths on the roads in Karachi during 2002 than in previous years. Nobody has cared to make a systematic study of factors behind these wholly avoidable tragedies. If the drivers of fast-moving vehicles are less careless, we may have less loss of life on our roads. Also, if the drivers of public transports are better trained, risk to life may be reduced.

The Karachi University campus has been the arena for a series of protest demonstrations, not excluding disruption of academic disciplines. More teachers have been prominent in these indelicate enterprises, than students. Everybody has a right to hold an opinion and also to express it. Apparently, the teachers do not feel good about the government’s new approach to higher education.

Nobody in his right mind would question the teachers’ right to hold whatever opinion they choose to hold. Nor can there be any question about expressing that opinion in an effective and purposeful manner. What the lay citizen may question, however, is the street agitation resorted to. There has to be a qualitative difference between teachers’ protest and factory workers’ angry demonstration. That difference was not visible in teachers’ demonstrations.

When college and university teachers give vent to their resentment or protest, it had better be in the form of a dignified debate, discussion or seminar. The effort should be to mobilize educated and enlightened public opinion. Taking to the street should be viewed beneath the dignity of senior teachers. Causing disturbance on the campus is the last thing one would like university teachers to figure in.

A notable feature of the year was the ‘coming of age,’ so to speak, of the Expo Centre in the heart of Gulshan-i-Iqbal. An institution of this kind was indeed badly needed. Within a few months of its becoming operational, the Expo Centre has been the venue of some remarkably successful exhibitions that could claim international attention and appreciation. The city is definitely the richer for its Expo Centre. It is a major plus point for 2002.

There are two ways of looking at a glass half filled with water. Some would see it as half-empty. Some as half-full. The former will be crest fallen, the latter will be wearing a soft smile. Take your pick. May be it is better to be on the smiling side. Let us say good-bye to 2002 with a simper and welcome 2003 with hope.

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Anis bicentenary function held


KARACHI: An impressive assembly of city writers and intellectuals listened with rapt attention for three hours the papers read out and the speeches made on the marvels of the great elegiacal poet Mir Baber Ali Anis (1802-1896), his magnificent personality and his art of dramatic delivery.

The writers included Intezar Hussain, Dr David Mathews and Raza Ali Abedi, the latter two from London, and Dr Hilal Naqvi, a noted modern poet of Urdu elegy, a researcher and editor of his monthly journal, Resai Adab, whose special number on elegies, past and present spread over 1,200 pages was also launched on the occasion.

It was a treat to listen to Dr Mathews, a teacher of Urdu literature at London University and translator of a Mersia (elegy) by Anis, carrying 194 stanzas: Jab qata ki masafat-i-shab aftab ne. The learned professor narrated how he travelled to Lucknow in 1969 during the month of Muharram, stayed there with a family, listened from the host, an old nabob, all the details of the tragedy of Karbala as if “his personal witness account,” walked barefoot along with the mourners under the blazing sun from place to place, attended majalis and thus absorbed the culture of Karbala in his soul. Dr Mathews read out his paper in Urdu and presented some of his English translations, which were highly admired by the audience.

But the most illuminating paper came from Intezar Hussain who dealt with the female characters depicted by Mir Anis, nowhere found in Urdu verses - the sister, the mother, the daughter - presented in the most natural way - the quality even lacking in Ramayan and Mahabharat, the two great epic poems of India. Anis carved out a new direction in epic poetry in the way that during the fury of war, when bloodshed looked imminent, a sister entered the scene and the atmosphere was changed. Soft and tender feelings prevailed. In elegies, you happened to meet a whole culture, a humane, magnificent and multi-faceted, multi-dimensional culture, Intezar said and lamented that this face of Islam had been distorted by fundamentalists and mullahs and an anti-culture view had been projected the world over.

Eulogizing the role of Hazrat Zainab at Karbala and recalling her Khutba at Syria, upholding the eternal truth of Islam, Intezar queried, was that an aadhi gavahi (half-witness) of a woman? His reference to Zia’s anti-women laws drew loud clappings.

Earlier, Raza Ali Abedi narrated the history of elegies, from Persian to Urdu, and from Deccan to Delhi, Faizabad and Lucknow with emphasis on Anis, his amazing command over poetry and his charismatic art of delivery.

Zia Mohyuddin, after a brief introductory remark in English, presented the English translation of a Mersia in his usual masterly way.

Dr Hilal Naqvi, in his paper, emphasized that elegiacal poetry was not confined to a particular sect. “It is a great treasure, not to be found anywhere else,” he said. The later speakers also agreed that by neglecting Mersia Urdu poetry had suffered a great cultural loss.

Prof David Mathews was critical of Mohammed Sadiq’s book on Urdu poetry written in English for learners in the West.

At the outset, Ms Muneeba Shaikh delivered stanzas from Anis in her enchanting voice.

The function was held under the auspices of the Mohammedi Education and Publication, Karachi. Jamiluddin Aali presided over the proceedings. Prof Sahar Ansari did the compering.—Hasan Abidi

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It is self-serving idealism, not pragmatism Gen sb.: VIEW FROM MARGALLA


The Indian establishment has leaked to a section of its press a tall story about how New Delhi had all but gone to war against Pakistan twice early this year. The reasons mentioned in this story as to why India decided to postpone the madness at the eleventh hour seem rather unconvincing. In January (Jan 14 to be precise), when they were all set to launch short and swift cross LoC attacks on the so-called “terrorist training camps” in Azad Kashmir and return home without giving the Pakistan armed forces time and space to intercept them, they were said to have found that the “camps” had been shifted deep into Pakistan territory making it almost impossible for them to carry out the plan without being challenged. And in June (June 10 to be precise) early onset of Monsoon is said to have come in the way. Among other equally unconvincing reasons given for the cancellation of the seemingly senseless misadventure included the fear of nuclear retaliation by Pakistan and the presence of American forces in and around Pakistan. Fiddlesticks! Information gathered in bits and pieces from various sources close to the drama on our side of the LoC indicate that on both occasions, the Indians were dissuaded from indulging in the lunacy when they found that Pakistan was waiting for them in full battle readiness on land, in air and at sea at the exact hour to the second that they had fixed for taking the plunge. Pakistan armed forces could do this, according to knowledgeable circles, largely because their intelligence machine had accomplished the miracle of gathering the precise information well in time. Also, very little is known on our side of the border about the high moral of Pakistan’s fighting forces between January and June when war looked imminent and the enemy’s preparedness was too visible to be ignored. Even the lowly rankers are said to have refused to go on leave even to attend the funerals of their near and dear ones. And the Indians, perhaps, thought rather wisely to keep themselves out of the reach of such a motivated force. Hats off to our armed forces!! With Pakistan’s territorial defence in such competent and dedicated hands, the nation need have no worries at all on this count.

But the same cannot be said about that part of the military leadership which has taken upon itself to protect the ideological boundaries of this country. In the first place they are not trained to recognize even the contours of these boundaries even if they were given a route map with a ready reckoner to decipher the pattern of these contours. Secondly, the military leadership, which took over the political reins of this country in October 1999 on the promise of tackling corruption and improving governance, has only succeeded in setting up, in the last three years, new records of collaboration with the corrupt and of bad governance. First it hanged the PML(N) by giving it a bad name but accepted most of the leaders of this party when they agreed to be renamed as PML(Q). Next, it made specific laws to keep the PPP and its leadership out of the elections. Then it rigged the elections to its heart’s content. But when all this failed to yield the desired results, it violated some of the laws it had made on its own by keeping them in abeyance to short circuit the mandate the PPP had received in the election thus facilitating a spree of shamefaced horse trading. However, since it could not hijack the entire PPP by the time a government of its liking was to be formed at the Centre and has so far failed as well to convince the MMA to join hands with the PML(Q), it seems to have been forced to go abegging to MQM, a faction that the establishment itself had helped raise in 1985 but with which it had fallen out in 1992. The MQM, a party which has, over the years, perfected the art of political trade offs of the most questionable kind, has traded its 17 votes on the first occasion for ‘No Go’ areas and on the second occasion for the governorship of Sindh. If ‘No Go’ areas were so bad and if Dr Ishratul Ibad was so good then why were they not recognized as such by the military government in the last three years of its rule? Well, this trading between the establishment and the MQM is likely to continue till the time the latter either succeeds in buying off all the PPP parliamentarians or in getting the MMA on board the Jamali bandwagon in a coalition at the Centre. In case the establishment fails to accomplish either of this then, perhaps, a point would be reached say in a year or so when it would have nothing to give to the MQM in return for their votes. That is when, things would, perhaps, start happening and the whole house of cards put together by Tariq Aziz and General Ihtasham Zamir would simply come down without even a whimper sending Pakistan on another journey into the unknown at a time when the external forces would be looking for new battle grounds after having taken care of their present fixations like, Iraq, Iran and North Korea.

There is, however, a way out of this looming crisis. But the initiative for taking this route lies with the military leadership itself. The politicians would be able to contribute their share in leading the nation through this route to a brighter tomorrow only after General Musharraf had passed off his COAS cap to the senior most general next in line after him, offered himself for election first for the office of President of the PML-Q (if there are any legal hitches baring this then he should use his present powers to remove them), and then for the office of President of Pakistan in accordance with the procedure given in the Constitution and then had taken the LFO to the Parliament for approval. Meanwhile, Musharraf should withdraw all legal and perceived moral hurdles in the way of the return of Nawaz Sharif, Benazir Bhutto and Altaf Hussain and invite them to join him in a grand national reconciliation process adopting his original 7 points as a bipartisan agenda for the nation for the next 15 years or so. This is the only way he can unify the polarised, fractured and divided Pakistani polity and prepare it to face with equanimity and inner strength the looming dangers that appear to be round the corner.

This is called pragmatism in its true sense of the meaning. It is not pragmatism to describe the national media as “enemy within”. And it is not pragmatism either to cut the nose to spite the face. The Chambers 21 Century dictionary defines pragmatism as a practical matter-of-fact approach to dealing with problems. The Oxford Dictionary (Tenth edition) on the other hand defines the term as an approach that evaluates theories or beliefs in terms of the success of their practical application. But the approach adopted by General Musharraf in dealing with the problem of Benazir, Nawaz and Altaf is not only not a matter-of-fact one but it also fails to stand the test of practical application. In fact it appears as if he has started confusing pragmatism with his own idealism which is based on his desire to remain in power for ever without being challenged by the people of Pakistan personified at this point in time by Benazir, Nawaz and Altaf, as pragmatism. Such delusions are the hallmark of every military ruler in Pakistan. But neither Ayub, nor Yahya and nor even Zia could rule for ever and neither could they keep the people of Pakistan subjugated for all times to come. If a Bhutto personified the people against Ayub, a Mujib against Yahya and a Benazir against Zia, then Musharraf, too, cannot escape such an eventuality no matter what devious strategy he adopts to keep in perpetual bondage the people of this hapless country in the name of pragmatism which is nothing more than a misnomer for his own self-serving idealism.—Onlooker

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A Moment of Silence, Before I Start....


TAHIRA Mazhar has been a life long friend, if I may say so. She keeps putting me to shame from time to time. The other day, she sent me a brief note in which she said we had been silent for so long we had become dummies.

Attached to the note was a poem by Emmanuel Ortiz, a Latin American poet.

She wants a wider circulation for the poem in our country. This can be done readily enough. You must read Ortiz and then speak. Titled A Moment of Silence Before I Start this poem. Read in the name of Allah, read! Ortiz begins:

A MOMENT OF SILENCE, BEFORE I START


Before I start this poem, I’d like to ask

you to join me

In a moment of silence

In honour of those who died in the world

Trade Centre and the

Pentagon last September 11th.

I would also like to ask you

To offer up a moment of silence

For all of those who have been harassed,

imprisoned, ......, tortured, raped, or killed

in retaliation for those strikes,

For the victims in both Afghanistan and

the US

And if I could just add one more thing...

A full day of silence

For the tens of thousands of Palestinians

who have died at the

hands of US-backed Israeli

forces over decades of occupation.

Six months of silence for the million and-a-half Iraqi

people,

mostly children, who have died of

malnourishment or starvation as a result

of an 11-year US

embargo against the country.

Before I begin this poem,

Two months of silence for the Blacks

under Apartheid in South Africa,

Where homeland security made them aliens

in their own country.

Nine months of silence for the dead in

Hiroshima and Nagasaki,

Where death rained down and peeled back

every layer of

concrete, steel, earth and skin

And the survivors went on as if alive.

A year of silence for the millions of dead

in Vietnam —- a people,

not a war —- for those who

know a thing or two about the scent of

burning fuel, their

relatives’ bones buried in it, their

babies born of it.

A year of silence for the dead in

Cambodia and Laos, victims of

a secret war...ssssshhhhh....

Say nothing...we don’t want them to

learn that they are dead.

Two months of silence for the decades of

dead in Colombia,

Whose names, like the corpses they once

represented, have

piled up and slipped off our tongues.

Before I begin this poem.

An hour of silence for EI Salvador...

An afternoon of silence for Nicaragua...

Two days of silence for the

Guatemaltecos...

None of whom ever knew a moment of peace

in their living

years.

45 seconds of silence for the 45 dead at

Acteal, Chiapas

25 years of silence for the hundred

million of Africans who found

their graves far deeper in the ocean than

any building could

poke into the sky.

There will be no DNA testing or dental

records to identify

their remains.

And for those who were strung and swung

from the heights of

sycamore trees in the south, the north,

the east, and the

west...

100 years of silence...

For the hundreds of millions of

indigenous peoples from this

half of right here,

Whose land and lives were stolen,

In postcard-perfect plots like Pine

Ridge, Wounded Knee, Sand Creek,

Fallen Timbers, or the Trail of Tears.

Names now reduced to innocuous magnetic

poetry on the

refrigerator of our consciousness...

So you want a moment of silence?

And we are all left speechless

Our tongues snatched from our mouths

Our eyes stapled shut

A moment of silence

And the poets have all been laid to rest

The drums disintegrating into dust.

Before I begin this poem,

You want a moment of silence

You mourn now as if the world will never

be the same

And the rest of us hope to hell it won’t be.

Not like it always has been.

Because this is not a 9/11 poem.

This is a 9/10 poem,

It is a 9/9 poem,

A 9/8 poem,

A 9/7 poem

This is a 1492 poem.

This is a poem about what causes poems

like this to be written.

And if this is a 9/11 poem, then:

This is a September 11th poem for Chile, 1971.

This is a September 12th poem for Steven

Biko is South Africa, 1977.

This is a September 13th poem for the

brothers at Attica Prison,

New York, 1971.

This is a September 14th poem for

Somalia, 1992.

This is a poem for every date that falls

to the ground in ashes

This is a poem for the 110 stories that

were never told

The 110 stories that history chose not to

write in textbooks

The 110 stories that CNN, BBC, The New

York Times, and Newsweek ignored.

This is a poem for interrupting this

programme.

And still you want a moment of silence

for your dead?

We could give you lifetimes of empty:

The unmarked graves

The lost languages

The uprooted trees and histories

The dead stares on the faces of nameless

children

Before I start this poem we could be

silent forever

Or just long enough to hunger,

For the dust to bury us

And you would still ask us

For more of our silence.

If you want a moment of silence

Then stop the oil pumps

Turn off the engines and the televisions

Sink the cruise ships

Crash the stock markets

Unplug the marquee lights,

Delete the instant messages,

Derail the trains, the light rail transit.

If you want a moment of silence, put a

brick through the window

of Taco Bell,

And pay the workers for wages lost.

Tear down the liquor stores,

The townhouses, the White Houses, the

jail houses, the

Penthouses and the Playboys.

If you want a moment of silence,

Then take it

On Super Bowl Sunday,

The Fourth of July

During Dayton’s 13-hour sale

Or the next time your white guilt fills

the room where my beautiful

people have gathered.

You want a moment of silence

Then take it NOW,

Before this poem begins.

Here, in the echo of my voice,

In the pause between goosesteps of the

second hand,

In the space between bodies in embrace,

Here is your silence.

Take it.

But take it all...Don’t cut in line.

Let your silence begin at the beginning

of crime. But we,

Tonight we will keep right on

singing...for our dead.

EMMANUEL ORTIZ


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