I am currently reading the first of the four books that the Bangladeshi feminist author, Taslima Nasreen, wrote about her life. The title of the book is Aamar Meyebela or My Girlhood.
It's interesting that Bengali, my mother tongue, and also Nasreen's, has no actual word to denote girlhood. The word for childhood is chhelebela, or boyhood. So no matter whether you are a girl or a boy, your experience of childhood cannot be the uni-gender "childhood." It has to be "boyhood." So in naming her memoir, Nasreen actually made up a new word.
But a common language is all that we share. I grew up in a prejudice-free family, Nasreen did not. I lived for the most part in the capital city of India and got away with almost everything I wanted to say or do. Now I live in a country, where I have had to give up a few freedoms because I am not a citizen here, but most basic civic freedoms are granted to me. Not in Nasreen's case.
In her memoir, she candidly talks about all the times when if female children were born to any family, the parents openly wailed. Or they sent their girls to schools for a limited number of years, if at all, simply because in their point of view, women didn't require higher education. Just as they didn't need to learn how to climb trees, fly kites, run in the fields, or read for pleasure.
At present, several of Nasreen's books are banned in her own country. But her citizenship was canceled and she became a political refugee post the publication of her notorious book titled Shame, a novel that didn't portray her countrymen in an appropriate light.
As someone trying to write something worthwhile, I feel deep compassion for Nasreen. She hasn't been to her motherland in years because there is a price on her head over there. She splits her time between Europe and India and in spite of her scores of awards, bold words, intriguing stories, and obvious love for the land she grew up in, she is not welcome in her own home. There could be few things more tragic than that.
But then, like most women in most parts of the world, Nasreen got this treatment because "she asked for it," didn't she?
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7 comments:
MF!
It has been ages since I was MF!!
I am super thrilled!!
Now for the blog .. once again, I am so happy that you are blogging again :) I have only read Lajja as a 16 yr old I remember feeling incredibly angry. Let's talk about it sometime.
For now I am glad you are blogging again.
@ MK
Super congratulations on being MF.
Thank you for liking my blogging. I think Lajja might be available at the U of I library, in case you are interested in a second read.
Interesting. What remains to be seen is how often you'll fly down to India, with all your awards and talks here and there, and your particular love for American cafes, among other things.
Anyway, one step at a time, I think. :)
@ R
Ha ha ha. Well said!
Well dreamed too, I would have to say.
I dont know about the woman angle to it but...
...there is always a price you pay for being different from the crowd. Period.
I've always seen hatred being expressed for Nasreen's books, even in our own family. But,you have a different view...
I guess I'm not yet old enough to read Nasreen's books. Let's see whose view I share when I read them.:-) But, if she really loves her motherland, its really tragic, as you say, for her to be despised there.
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