Dear Fellow Warrior,
I wanted to share a poem with you. I think the poet suppressed within me is gradually returning. Perhaps I deprived that part of me through my graduate studies. It had been silenced and it is trying so hard to emerge when I keep telling it to wait, wait, wait, until I am ready to let it go, thinking I need more time to build up the skill, since it isn’t a natural talent, the first real poem I wrote was before my first year of high school.
Normally the country Pakistan brings the poet back in me, the few times we meet, but I have not had the blessing to return to her yet in more than three years… and it doesn’t seem like we will meet again for a long time unfortunately. I never studied the skill of poetry beyond primary and secondary school, but I am able to produce some half-decent pieces from time to time… with the humble recognition that I could perhaps never achieve mastery.
This is my latest attempt.
I wrote this poem I share below in my head last year while finishing up my graduate studies…but Defending my dissertation took priority, which made it sit in the mind-cloud for a while…
It is about my time in Barcelona riding that rickshaw in the night, and how I felt after hearing the news and seeing the announcement that I will be defending my dissertation in two weeks. I would then defend it, amid some serious challenges, in sickness, and achieve a sense of freedom, I am only now beginning to grasp and comprehend. Since I was a little girl, I always wanted to ride a Rickshaw in Pakistan. I got to ride a Bicycle Rickshaw a few nights during my 37th birthday weekend. And it happened to be Pakistani gentlemen who gave me the lift. I think I have a picture with one of them somewhere :). It was special… so here it goes… appreciate you taking a moment to read this…
The Lady in the Rickshaw
I want to be that lady
Bouncing in the squealing Rickshaw
Trusting these gentle souls
Carrying her away…
In the forbidden night…
soon after romancing with the jealous Moon.
I want to be that lady…
That lady lost in the clouds…
unraveling her distant dreams…
She dreamed of riding in the Rickshaw…
All her life…
Told she cannot ride…
Not alone…
Not without her ‘estranged lover’…
her “Ajnabi”….
But she is content…
Sitting in this Rickshaw….Alone…
Riding to a destination unknown.
I want to be that lady…
Mysterious, wild and free…
Smiling endlessly…
Free from longing for her Ajnabi..
Frightened in the thick of uncertainty..
Still, as the ‘Lioness of the Jungle’…
An impulsive yet fierce warrior…
Daring, devilish, and naughty
Or so scolds the “Nazar Buree”. (evil eyes)
I want to be that lady…
Raising her Sword gallantly…
Wind blowing in her thick jet-black strands of hair…
Seeking love, excitement and adventure…
Dancing in the Rickshaw…
Empowered and free…
Free to dream and become whoever she aspires to be…
Defying the ‘gauntlet of evil eyes’…
hiding in the shadows…
Staring at her …brutally…
trying to terminate her mission
of ‘climbing mountains’ and ‘changing her stars.’
I want to be that lady…
Defying the menacing and powerful forces
Breaking down the wall of shames…
Authentically…
Ripping off those mental chains…
Unapologetically.
I want “To Be”…
That lady…
That Lady in the Rickshaw…
I want to be that Lady…
Chasing her “Azaadi”…
She hears those words Suddenly…
Familiar voices shouting… “She’s so Ugly”…
Then why …
Why does she feel “so pretty”…
At this time of transformation…
At this time of transcendence…
Riding in this Rickshaw…
What happened to her… she wonders.
I will search for her… She vows…
I was her… she speaks…
I am her… she demands…
I found her… she claims…
I forgive her… she surrenders…
I won’t forget her again.
ETK
Here is The Lady in the Rickshaw!
I look forward to sharing more videos on my channel, with you soon, a warm place for difficult conversations about the “inward and outward revolution,” from self-empowerment to community empowerment and about “changing your stars.”
Thanks for reading my poem and “thanks for giving my voice a chance.”
Peace, Warmth, and Blessings,
Dr. Elsa,
The Warrior KQueen
“She wasn’t looking for a Knight. She was looking for a Sword.” – Atticus