Maniza Naqvi writes fiction. Her novels are: Mass Transit (OUP, Karachi, 1998); On Air (OUP, Karachi, 2000); Stay With Me (SAMA, Karachi 2004; Tara Press, India 2005); A Matter of Detail (SAMA, 2008; Tara Press, 2008); Sarajevo Saturdays (SAMA, 2009). Her short story "An Impossible Shade of Home Brew" is included in the anthology And then the World Changed (Feminist Press, 2008). Her short story "A Brief Acquaintance" is included in Neither Night Nor Day (Harper Collins, 2007). Email: manizanaqvi195 [at] hotmail.com
by Maniza Naqvi I find Sue Hubbard’s writings to be an invitation to feel sorrowful. And therefore a beckoning towards a search for beauty, an attempt at forgiveness and redemption and reckoning; a belief in the possibility of joy. Swimming to Albania, Sue Hubbard most recent and fourth collection of poem’s reveals once again, the…
by Maniza Naqvi Hassan Abbas’s book, “The Prophet’s Heir: The Life of Ali ibn Abi Talib,” provides an excellent basis for much research, reflection and conversations. For many of us this poetic verse feels as though it were a statement of fact: Ghalib Nadeem e dost sey ati hey bo e dost Mashgul e Haq…
by Maniza Naqvi When we are done rhyming words of hope and history to audacity we will need to wake up. When the much needed elation and good cheer wears off, of getting job one done, defeating Trump then the reality will set in. More than 70 million people voted for Trump. Of which 55%…
by Maniza Naqvi Have a look at the New York City Budget for the fiscal year 2020 and you will very quickly note the priorities (policing) for public expenditures and for cuts (social services of health, education and youth services). A quick back of the envelope public expenditure review reveals and illustrates the fiscal story…
by Maniza Naqvi Today will mark the death of at least one hundred thousand Americans because of COVID. The science was clear. Lockdown. Stop movement. Distance. This would have stopped large numbers of people dying. In short, stopping the virus from becoming a pandemic meant pausing the profit principle. The pandemic has laid bare the…
by Maniza Naqvi Grief stages its unfurling Towards the promise of sorrow, Strips away to beauty Peels in layers Sheds Skin, Leaks Bleeds. Sheds and sheds. A friend texts A song by Daniel Johnston. An icon. Gone. Says: Transitioned, As you would say. It has taken years, eight To get here To rescue stone. This…
by Maniza Naqvi Now in this damp, stiff swollen fingers, mine, once slender, of gossamer touch, which pierced skin with steel, silk, molded spheres, to be kicked by heroes, turned warriors, turned champions, turned angels in distant lands, on green fields and roaring theaters of fierce contest of fury and cheer. Yet I am not…
by Maniza Naqvi I write this as Saturday begins to wane on the long Columbus Day weekend while I listen on the radio to the speeches given by senator after senator prior to the final confirmation vote for Bret Kavanaugh as Associate Justice on the Supreme Court of the United States of America. The vote…
by Maniza Naqvi Give me a break I mutter. I text—and I text. Incessantly I text. Send money. Now. Send money. More money. You don’t reply. You will. It is Spring and I am young. Everyone around me on the beach is around my age or younger. We are young. I offer: Let’s chat. Then…
by Maniza Naqvi The Hyderabad, Karachi and Lahore Literary Festivals have concluded successfully for this year. And a couple more are about to begin in Gwadar, Islamabad and Faisalabad. These two to three day events full of sessions ranging from literature to songs and theater and stand up comedians and the memoirs of politicians and…
by Maniza Naqvi Sue Hubbard's lovingly mapped novel Rainsongs is a gentle gem of quietly shimmering intellect. I read it twice to savor its sense of place. It is rooted in the abstractions of land and memory, the magical thinking of a bereaved woman. Hubbard's expressive talent is in full display through her descriptions of…
by Maniza Naqvi Blindness The total eclipse of the sun, a one in several lifetimes flood, a jester becomes king. Through the emulsion coating of a negative containing memory of childhood—that image protecting me from the searing blindness of light, I watched the moon block out the sun. National Geographic At the beginning of summer…
by Maniza Naqvi Why does this President lie in the White House? Because they all did. And because they all will. But this one lies because the last few didn't do it with the finesse that has normally been typical of the White House. The last few didn't do it with the sophistication of those…
by Maniza Naqvi I've traveled across the city from M.A. Jinnah Road and the Pioneer Book House in the neighborhood of Meriwether Tower to an art gallery off 26h street Block 4 Clifton in Karachi now in the shadow of another occupying towering tower. Same story. Of ground breaking points of references reaching back 1200…
by Maniza Naqvi A very decent, elegant, graceful and intelligent man, the kind who opens doors for his wife, and wins a Nobel prize for Peace just by being has for eight years occupied the White House, furthering and expanding the indecency of war. And Mr. Trump may slam doors on everyone and not win…
by Maniza Naqvi To dance the dance, I did not dance, because at the end of the conference, my accompanying handbag which contained all my documents, passports, credit cards and so forth compelled me to sit frumpily, guarding it, instead of joining the sensuously swaying crowd. When I had the chance, I chose instead to…
by Maniza Naqvi Shared a wooden bench at Union Station. Sat side by side. I hunched. Waiting for Red Caps to come get us. Take us to our tracks. To our trains. Mama GiGi and I. Police in black riot gear with dogs, eyed us, loitering nearby. And around us, more of us. With strollers,…
by Maniza Naqvi For the past eight years, when I walk past it in the early mornings on my way to work, I've imagined the elegant, refined, educated, decent family that currently lives in the White House. They look so good and they talk so fine. A made for TV family. Making most of us…
by Maniza Naqvi It has been all about the towers hasn't it? It has been all about the towers these past 16 years? All about the towers, that the world has been made into a mess? The towers which now have been replaced by the Freedom Tower in the mecca of towers. And now towers…
by Maniza Naqvi The inclusion of a hijabi, her photo somewhat snarling, in between the covers of this October's issue of the Playboy magazine is a delicious illustration of our times. Playboy, much defended by men for the heft of its ‘articles', is not known for its penchant for contraptions of modesty and demure unless…