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January 26, 2003
REVIEWS: On shifting shores
In 2000, Hima Raza’s first collection of poetry Memory stains forged new direction for English language poetry in Pakistan with its original, unusual experimental poems which use both space and structure to endow each word with imagery and resonance. Her second poetry volume Left-hand-speak includes some of the work from Memory stains, but is a more assured, substantial collection which explores themes of language, identity and culture.
The book begins with the title poem which sets the tone:
Left-hand-speak moves in menacing tones/ like the sound of a distant/ waterfall calling you/ towards love, death, a promise of the mango season,/ moving in ripe and humid hues towards an impossible beauty./ Left-hand ways don’t have to make sense, you see.
The poem goes on to say:
The real story is here:/ In my ancestors’ eyes/ who forgot respect and responsibility/ for a place called the Commonwealth,/ telling us it would be ok if we tried hard enough/ to be like someone else,/ if we learnt how to take high tea/ and work our way through a five course meal/ using the appropriate cutlery.
The contradictions, conflicts and tensions created by this, run through this collection. There is much about the cultural chauvinism of English too. In “The pretence of cool”, Hima Raza makes a quiet, but strong political statement on the platitudes of the modern media and “the civilizing mission” of the west. In several poems, the poet comments on her sense of alienation and exclusion there, but she also focuses on a problem intrinsic to most people who inhabit two cultures — living in one, but haunted by images of the other.
However, Hima Raza breaks new ground as a Pakistani English poet in “Us in two tones” when she employs two vastly different languages - English and Urdu - and their vastly disparate scripts to express herself. The poem, addressed to a lost lover, begins with verses in English, arranged on different sides of the page linked with arrows and a sketch. Half way the mood changes. She writes:
And then/ an\Other tone emerges
Here the poem breaks away across the page, into the Urdu script, which begins with the words: kon Majnun aur kon Laila?
The impact is both startling and dramatic and succeeds at several levels. Visually, the appearance of Urdu writing in between the Roman script creates the sense of a hidden, or suppressed, inner world and unknown depths. This is reinforced by the poet’s complaint in English that the lover has refused to understand this other aspect of her. At the same time her Urdu verses speak directly to the bilingual reader acquainted with Urdu and English and opens out another door, another rhythm. As a linguistic strategy, Hima Raza’s approach is both innovative and courageous.
Hima Raza’s poetry constantly challenges the dominant, imperial, patriarchal narratives of English and gives voice to experiences which are strongly rooted in her sense of self as an Asian and a woman. Her many poems about issues of race and ethnicity include “Reflecting skin” which is part prose-poem and she attacks the words which have become stereotypes and labels today such as “exotic”, “multi-cultural” , “poly-lingual” , but she employs humour, wit and a delightful sense of the absurd to do so.
The poem has three sub-headings “melanin experiment (part I)”, “melanin rage (part X)” and finally “melanin frustration (no point in parts)” where she writes:
‘You’re not as dark as you look”, remarks the lady behind the makeup-counter, as she tries for the third time to find a tint that might match my evasive skin. My grandmother would not agree. She never failed to remind that girls of my complexion didn’t stand much chance in procuring a husband. I am still single, the wrong shade of brown and unable to find a decent concealer, even at £25 a bottle.”
Many of Hima Raza’s poems convey rich sensuous images, but her treatment of desire, longing and loss often has a strong metaphorical element. Several poems are a contemplation of life. She writes with great subtlety always and her words are controlled and contained. In her poem “For Eqbal” she writes:
You drift away/ in quietude/ in a moment/ Without warning/ Without breath.
In some poems she slips in a social or political comment. She also has a particularly fine eye for detail and her ability to encapsulate memorable images in a few brief words is enhanced but the simplicity of her language In “Inside view” she begins: the ocean held captive/ in a tear drop/ awaits a passing smile
While her use of strong rhythm in “Cyclical scenes” gives it a timeless hymn-like quality:
In first light I see/ the red eye/ the ripe seed/ the water’s song/ in still horizons/ on shifting shores
The final poem in the collection, “Translation” is written in the third person and looks at the process of writing, the reclamation of cultural influences, past histories and the “the ghost of a forgotten language” all of which come together finally as a complete whole. There her English words end, but there is surprise overleaf: the poem culminates in an page of verse written entirely in Urdu.
This is a truly exciting, original collection by a talented young writer, who moves with enviable ease between two cultures and expresses it in her work. Her next volume is eagerly awaited.
Left-hand-speak: a collection of verses
By Hima Raza
Alhamra Publishing, Saudi Pak Tower, Jinnah Avenue, Islamabad. Tel: 051-2823862.
Email: contact@alhamra.com
Website:
www.alhamra.com
ISBN 969-516-083-2
127pp.
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