Rafiq Kathwari, the first non-Irish recipient of the Patrick Kavanagh Poetry Award, obtained his MFA from Columbia University and an M.A. in political science from the New School. His recent poetry collection is My Mother's Scribe (YodaPress); his translations from the Urdu of selected poems of Muhammed Iqbal (1877-1938), many individually published here at 3QD, are forthcoming soon. He divides his time between New York, Dublin, and Kashmir where he was born a Scorpio at midnight. Email: rafiqkathwari [at] gmail.com
Website: https://www.rafiqkathwari.com
FIRE TREE Tips of his mustache whip braided, a turbaned invader four centuries ago carried Persian saplings in a caravan across the Himalayas to Kashmir. “Our chinar will last a thousand years,” my grandfather said as rustling boughs reigned above the tin roof of the house where I was born a Scorpio at midnight. Every…
GABRIEL AND SATAN after Iqbal Gabriel All right, mate. Dish out the dirt. Satan Suffering, seeking, yearning, burning I have the strength of hopelessness Gabriel Heavens! Will you ever return? Satan No bazaars, Jaguars, rouge et noir— Bestow these gated lawns on the pious Gabriel Angels are bright still, after all. Satan From my despair:…
RANT FOR GAZA Now is the summer of our discontent. Banned bombs, Made in America, once again rain down mercilessly on the world’s largest open-air prison. Photos of Raggedy Ann dolls pulled out from Gaza’s burning debris makes steeliest men sob. How do middle-class Muslim youth from Seattle to Srinagar manage, to the extent they…
HISTORY’S MOST PERSECUTED MINORITY IS INSENSITIVE TO THE ASPIRATIONS OF WORLD’S MOST DISPOSSESSED TRIBE by Rafiq Kathwari My sister-in-law and I sat in the back seat of the Volkswagen as my older brother drove in desperate rain through red lights to Maimonides. “Kicking,” she said, putting my hand over her round belly. Shy, I lowered…
MOTHER WRITES TO THE LION OF KASHMIR SHEIKH MOHAMMED ABDULLAH They tell me you are buried on the banks of Naseem near the Hazratbal shrine, your tomb heavily guarded by India’s army. I tell them this represents one of those ironies history keeps throwing up: the very people who jailed you now guard your tomb…
MOTHER WRITES TO INDIRA GANDHI Dear Madam Just wondering, what’s transpiring? Why does India despair of your Emergency? Media are saying: Our star is fading While you’re busy sexing a swami. A pilot wants to bucklemeup in his sexjet. He’s pompous. Frequency has amplified. Madam G, hear my plea. Empty the sky. Show your ire.…
ASSIGNMENT Only Muslim in the workshop, I went on about the President’s Shocking and Awful on Iraq, civilization’s cradle, bombed back to the Stone Age for non-existent nukes sold by capitalist gunrunners. I am a witness, I said, I must howl: In every well in Baghdad a rafiq is weeping while long black coats (with…
SUFI BLUES How does it rain? You rap a bead of sweat on your forehead How does lighting strike? You glance at me, and lower your eyes How does day meet night? You veil your face with hair Where does music get its magic? You lace your talk with honey What good is yearning? You…
TODAY WINDY THEN SHOWERS Gold-plated heels On heart-shaped leaves Calf-highs below Slim band of flesh Flirty pleats creased Above naked knees Ruby clutch releases Jangling of keys Wanton cornrows unbraided In last night's storm In last night's storm Wanton cornrows unbraided Jangling of Keys Ruby Clutch releases Above naked knees Flirty Pleats creased Slim band…
SHOCK AND STOICISM A doctor in tailcoats Makes a house call. He straps her ankles, Shoves a buffer in her mouth. Her husband kisses her eyes closed, Pins down her fleshy arms. The doctor pads her temples, Inserts wires into a black box. Bulbs flicker as he smoothes Moonlight back in her throat. Doctor unplugs…
MOTHER’S SCRIBE TO HER HUSBAND’S NEW WIFE I rule an urge to jump in the sea. No one taught me how to swim, and if someone had I would be diving in the Atlantic now lapping the sea wall around my son’s home in New York. A rogue assaults my senses, flouting even American laws,…
VERACITY Inspired by Rumi “May I borrow your donkey?”A neighbor asked Kavanagh Who said, “I'm very sorry,I loaned out my donkey yesterday.” At that moment, the donkey brayedIn the barn. The neighbor, believing The donkey made Kavanagh a liar,Asked “Then what is that I hear?” Kavanagh replied, “Friend, are you goingTo believe me or a…
MY MOTHER’S SCRIBE Half-moon above the table Her face by candlelight Her upper lip twitches My right leg flutters In All Things Be Men The school motto on my cap Parker fountain pen Gold-plated nib Waterman's ink Eggshell paper My blue-black fingers Pilot her fervent verses To Prime Ministers of the World A moth at…
by Rafiq Kathwari Srinagar, Kashmir, 14 August 1947 Thursday At Midnight two dominions of Pakistan and Hindustan will take birth: Whole day busy with tomorrow's celebrations. Pakistan Government has instructed Superintendent Post Office Srinagar to fly the Pakistan flag tomorrow on all the post office buildings. The Kashmir government does not want this to happen.…
ISRAELI PATROLS KILL 90 DOGS IN ARAB TOWN —The New York Times, April 14, 1995 Mother, I’m living in sin with an EgyptianJew raised in Paris. We stroll in Central ParkGaulois, her mutt, off the leash. Lucky he’snot in Hebron, where gods kill dogs for sport. by Rafiq Kathwari
HALLUCINATIONS — for Richard Howard The servants never listen to me Only when the new wife nods They run around like rats To fetch the thermos There is poison in the spring water Chanel! A present from my son In America — the wind Carried my message After all Thieves Under my bed I want…
LENIN IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD a trans creation after Iqbal, by Rafiq Kathwari God Aha! Comrade Ulyanov— Welcome! Or I should say, Dobro Pozhalovat! Lenin You’re alive? But “God is dead,” they said. God I inhabit men’s heart, passion’s home, and for a brief moment the gods themselves swayed to your tune. Lenin So,…
(Written in 1932 on Spanish soil, mainly in the Mosque of Cordoba) BY MOHAMMED IQBAL I Chain of day and night Fashioner of events Basis of life and death Two tone silken thread Fiber of attributes Pitch of prospects Chain of day and night Sitting in judgment Setting a value on us When we're lacking…
HALCYON DAYS Two brothers unlike each other Under the copper beechChairs patterned with impatiens It is going to be a bad day The only wind is our breathingPatronizing the silence he says You’ve inherited Mother’s madness by Rafiq Kathwari More poems by Rafiq here.
ON RECEIVING FATHERAT JFK AFTER HIS LONGFLIGHT FROM KASHMIR As I open my arms wide, he extends his hand. by Rafiq Kathwari More work by Rafiq here.