women of Islam (InterIslamicNet)

WOMEN OF THE VEIL

by Hena Farooq

Her long, thick, shiny black hair
Fell against her back.
Her rich, copper skin
Gleamed in the sunlight.
Her slender figure outlined,
With her soft voluptuous curves.
But when she stepped outside,
She became a ghostly figure of the night.
Nothing more to the people
Than a dark, shadowy figure of oppression.
But she showed them.
As she walked down the street,
People made way,
Men lowered their gazes in utmost respect.
And others whispered,
As she held her head up high,
With pride in her belief
And showed them how oppressed she really was!
While they whistled at their women,
Looking them up and down as they were pieces of meat to be inspected?
She pitied their savage ways.
As she walked into the arms of her partner,
Her only love,
Her husband.
Where she was transformed,
Into her beautiful self,
For only his eyes to see.

TO WESTERN WOMEN

by Aisha

When you look at me
all you can see
Is the scarf that covers my hair
My word you can't hear
Because you're too full of fear,
Mouth gaping, all you do is stare.

You think it's not my own choice,
In your own "liberation" you rejoice.
You're so thankful that you're not me.
think I'm uneducated,
Trapped, oppressed and subjugated.
You're so thankful that you are free.

But Western women you've got it wrong-
You're the weak and i'm the strong,
For I've rejected the trap of man.
Fancy clothes- low neck, short skirt,
These are devices for pain and hurt,
Always jumping to the male agenda,
Competing on his terms.
No job share, no baby-sitting facilities,
No feeding and diaper-changing amenities.
No equal pay for equal skill-
Your job they can always fill.
Is this liberation?

a person with ideas and thought,
I'm not for sale, I can't be bought.
I won't decorate anyone's arm,
Nor be promoted for my charm.
There's more to me than playing coy.
Living life as a balancing game- mother,
Daughter, wife, nurse, cleaner, cook, lover-

And still bring home a wage.
Who thought up this modern
"freedom"
Where man can love'em and man can leave 'em.
This is not free but life in a cage.

Western women you can have your life.
Mine- it has less strife.
I cover and i get respected
Surely that's to be expected-
For I won't demean the feminine
I won't live to a male criterion.
I dance to my own tune,
And i hope you see this very soon,
For your own sake- wake up and use your sight!
Are you so sure that you are right?


MY SHADE

by Khadija Javed

You wonder what my shade is,
What it represents.
Call me anything;
An extremist, a fundamentalist,
Anything you desire.
I don't care.

My shade is
My protection
from this evil world,
from roaming eyes,
from diseased hearts.
Call me anything;
Vain or
Submissive.
don't care.

My shade is
My Protection
of my beauty,
reserved for one
special gift
that God has given me;
My Life Partner.

This world
is but a fleeting moment
about to end
at Any Time.
The Signs are here.
The Day of Judgement is coming.
No one will enter my grave with me except
My body, my heart, my soul.

Call me a pessimist,
Distressed,
Repressed,
Oppressed,
I don't care.

My shade
Covers me
Like a tree from the sun;
Like a coat of wax
on your shiny new sportscar.

My shade
My protection,
is my Khimaar,
I am a woman of Islaam.
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