Khamoshi

by Qudsia Akhtar

'“Can one experience diaspora / in the body?” Qudsia Akhtar’s poems are silted with female loss, a kind of silence that builds slowly inside generations of migrant women. Through partition, nationalism, racism, sex and filial duty, these poems ask to whom do we belong if not our selves? A motherland calls to its daughters; an adopted country demands to hear her voice. Akhtar’s language is rich and exact, fearing sentiment, turning on its heel towards a path entirely of its own.' - Sandeep Parmar

'Qudsia Akhtar’s thrilling debut collection Khamoshi (Silence) traces the complexity of living as a British-Pakistani writer with great courage, integrity and insight. Akhtar’s vision takes in the broader historical perspectives of the trauma of partition and the experiences of racism and sexism while focusing on the embodied tensions of a self that is never fully at ease with itself: ‘I hear / my voice call / my self / imposter.’ In dialogue with Muhammed Iqbal’s philosophical poem The Secrets of the Self, Akhtar asks unflinchingly ‘can I be from here if my roots / lie elsewhere?’, ‘what does the British-Pakistani want?’ ‘can Herstory / be rewritten?’, creating a precisely articulated poetry full of vivid images and passionate thinking. If Akhtar does not shy away from the challenges she presents (‘the chaos of collective identity’), nevertheless this is an enormously optimistic book in which she wears ‘the flag / of hope’ whilst paying homage to ‘all / the voices / in me.’ This is an adept and provocative work which firmly establishes Akhtar as an important new voice for her generation.' - Scott Thurston

Genres: Poetry

80 pages, Paperback

Published March 10, 2022

Reviews

[Akilesh Sridharan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Debutant poet Qudsia Akhtar, a British uni student, takes a trip down memory lane, revisiting the hardships and struggles faced by her country’s people during the independence freedom movement and how it has impacted her life.

The author, through her pen-wielding power, gives us a glimpse of the people of her community’s genocide, shedding blood and sweat in achieving her nation’s freedom.

These poems speak about the past violence and its aftermath that had been and will become a permanent scar for her and her future generations to come, following them wherever they go, an irrevocable, indelible mark in the form of isolation and a perennial curse.

The young poet handles these sensitive topics - including religion, culture, language, politics, diaspora, terrorism, rituals, scriptures, gods, and men - in a mature manner to put forth her point of view in a hard-hitting and effective way.

Being a modern woman of the 21st century, the author seems to ridicule at times the old-world traditions and value systems of her ancestors, and at the same time, she rightfully justifies, through anger and frustration, it by showing how these values have left her country in tatters and affecting her fellow brothers and sisters in their day-to-day lives, leaving them dislocated and eliminated.

Ms Akhtar does not even shy away from addressing the issue of how the Western world sees her country and community after the 9/11 incident.

A bold and sincere first attempt by the poet to address the ghost of the past that haunts her even today. A definite weekend read if you are a contemporary poet lover.

[Liralen · Rating 3 out of 5]

She is a cautionary tale of the feminine curse, / people read her like braille and spit out the words / and fill in the blanks with her name, alongside countless / women who made the same mistake. (30)

Khamoshi ("Silence" in Hindi) takes readers through a life lived in diaspora. Pulling from Muhammed Iqbal, the book seeks identity in something of a liminal space—either British and Pakistani or neither British nor Pakistani, or perhaps both and neither; defined by others based on external factors (skin color, clothing, female body); asking questions about and calling attention to the ways in which other is forced upon a person.

The poems here take various forms—some tightly corralled, two or three words per line; others sprawling across the page; a few two-line poems; a few focused on rhyme. This is not a book to be read all in one go but to take some time with—two poems here, a poem there. I returned to some pieces to pick out more details (poetry is not my first language), and I'm curious to see what will stick with me if I return to this in the future.

I do not only address today. I sing riots / for tomorrow. I interrupt the song / of change and sing my verse. I exist / to exist for us. Project our voice to say: // I carry the charge of a thousand feet. / They thrash against the barriers / of history and wake the dead / to riot, to riot with me. (64)

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

[Sue · Rating 5 out of 5]

Step into the world of Khamoshir, where poetry speaks the language of silence and the heart of the diaspora. This book is like a hidden gem waiting to be discovered, a treasure trove of words that touch your soul. Akhtar's poetry is raw and honest, delving into the experiences of migrant women, the weight of nationalism, and the search for identity. It's a poetic journey that demands to be felt rather than just read.

[Abigail L. · Rating 5 out of 5]

A profound collection of poetry that delves into the complexities of diaspora, female loss, and the search for identity. Each poem in this book is a masterpiece that resonates with the silence that builds inside generations of migrant women. Akhtar's words are hauntingly beautiful as they navigate the themes of partition, nationalism, racism, and filial duty.

[Feefs ˚♡˚ · Rating 5 out of 5]

WOWOWOWOWOWOW! I was not expecting to like this at all and I am so glad I read it. This was so beautiful and brutal at the same time. This is the kind of book that stays with you even after you read it. Thank you Qudsia for writing this. Thank you for not letting your past hinder your potential. It was truly remarkable getting glimpses of your experiences through these poems.

Also a special thank you to NetGalley for allowing me to read this as an arc.