Dear Nayyar,
I like this poem because it is so sophisticated,
just like you !
I found many issues described here about life ...
My first impression is that you are attracted by
intelligent girls but you don't like them.
You are amazed by the number of the books in
the girl's room and you made a full poem about
this unusual phenomenon, in your mind.
In fact, to be sincere, during my life I had a true
library in my house, not only in my room.
I still have a wall full of books in my room which
I like the best.
They are not spread everywhere and I am not
lost in thoughts.
Your girl read Copernicus and Schrodinger and
I read Schopenhauer, Mircea Eliade and many
I read Schopenhauer, Mircea Eliade and many
other philosophers and not only philosophers.
I think that it is our right to learn and to under-
stand life no matter the gender.
Why do you think it's a problem for a girl to
study Philosophy and whatever she wants ?
At the end of the poem you say : " To prove
her wrong, then, in avenge, I gifted her, my
pen."
her wrong, then, in avenge, I gifted her, my
pen."
Why do you think it's wrong for a girl to learn
and to have as many books as you have ?
I can understand the girl's words : “You too
are like all men.”
are like all men.”
I am sure the girl in your poem doesn't agree
with the mentality of the society in which she
lives, by birth and not by her choice, because
the women's rights are not equal with men's
and because their desires are not respected by
the men leaders and by the common men, too.
and because their desires are not respected by
the men leaders and by the common men, too.
Where to find her soul mate when the man who
is visiting her into her room looks at her books,
at her cosmetics..., but not for her soul and
deep thoughts ?
deep thoughts ?
She is like you, of course !
Any human beings thinks the same, even if men
are sure that women can not learn and think the
same with them.
At the end of the poem, by giving the girl your
pen, this is a very important step of a man to
agree with the rights of the women about lear-
ning and working for the society and for beco-
ming financially independent and free of fear
and dependence of a husband who obliges her
to do what he wants...
Anyway, the women make much more in their
life then men : they give birth to Life by carry-
ing the children nine months, taking care of
them and educating them to be good people
among people in any society.
ing the children nine months, taking care of
them and educating them to be good people
among people in any society.
Love is not possible only from one side.
Love is possible only when the girls and women
will be free to think what to do with their life :
how much to learn, what to work and to choose
their Love by following their own feelings and
desires.
Dear Nayyar, this is not the best of your poems
from the literature point of view, but it is one of
the most complex as idea placed in your poetry.
My congratulations for all your poems which
touch all hearts and minds !
Haminia.
May 2012
1 comentarii:
This is Nayyar Afaq's poem :
A Philosopher girl
by The Autumn Green
Her room was like a library,
I found her among the books.
Big glasses, bungled dress and hairs,
Philosopher by her looks.
I asked her, with surprising tone,
Why so much books she had?
(Perhaps I discomforted her,
By arguing, and that's bad.)
She said she welcomes everyone,
(But switched off is stardust.)
Then hugged me to officially start,
A friendship based on trust.
Then at once, lost in random thoughts,
She placed her hands on shelf.
And sighed if ever she will find,
Her soul mate, Mr. Elf.
Before there born Copernicus [1],
She told, this earth was flat.
And in the box, beneath her bed,
There was Schrödinger cat [2].
She was so void of cosmetics,
With spots of ink on chin.
She picked a lipstick from cupboard,
And threw in the dust bin.
She arched her fingers, and then shaped,
A star with rubber band.
And looked at me with such a smile,
Like sky is in her hand.
Her eyes were like magnetic poles,
With arctic flares in head.
No cushion or pillow for nap,
She had just books on bed.
And when she took and placed on lips,
An empty cup of tea.
Her absentmindedness was like,
She’s not she, she is me.
She told hate is love in disguise,
And love is actually hate.
I grumbled, “Heaven's sake. Please stop,
I couldn't get it, mate.”
Then don’t know why she angrily said,
“You too are like all men.”
To prove her wrong, then, in avenge,
I gifted her, my pen.
(Nayyar Afaq / The Autumn Green)
_________________________________
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