Taslima Nasrin (Bengali: তসলিমা নাসরিন, Arabic: تسليمة نسرین, Hindi: तसलीमा नसरीन, Toslima Nasrin) is a Bangladeshi author and former physician who has been living in exile since 1994. From a modest literary profile in the late 1980s, she rose to global fame by the end of the 20th century owing to her feminist views and her criticism of Islam in particular and of religion in general.
Since fleeing Bangladesh in 1994 she has lived in many countries, and currently (June 2011) lives in New Delhi. She works to build support for secular humanism, freedom of thought, equality for women, and human rights by publishing, lecturing, and campaigning. Her name, Taslima Nasrin, is also ... more »
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Taslima Nasrin Poems
My life, like a sandbar, has been taken over by a monster of a man who wants my body under his control so that, if he wishes,
At The Back Of Progress
The fellow who sits in the air-conditioned office is the one who in his youth raped a dozen or so young girls, and, at cocktail parties, is secretly stricken with lust,
Bhul Preme Kete Gelo Tirish Boshonto
I'm going to move ahead. Behind me my whole family is calling, My child is pulling my sari-end, My husband stands blocking the door,
The garment girls, walking together, look like hundreds of birds flying in Bangladesh's sky. Garments girls, returning to their slums at midnight, are met by street-vagabonds who grab a few takas from the girls,
A Letter To My Mother
How are you Many days, many thousand of days I don't see you ma, Many thousand of days I don't hear your voice, Many thousand of days I don't feel your touch.
Women spend the afternoon squatting on the porch, picking lice from each other's hair. They spend the evening feeding the little ones, lulling them to sleep in the glow of the bottle lamp.
You're a girl and you'd better not forget that when you cross the threshold of your house men will look askance at you.
Let all of you together find a fault with me, at least a fault you all jointly work out, or else, a harm shall befall you.
Eve, Oh Eve
Why wouldn't Eve have eaten of the fruit? Didn't she have a hand to reach out with, Fingers with which to make a fist?
Boro Voye Gopone Gopone Bachi
Human nature is such That if you sit, they'll say, 'No, don't sit.' If you stand, 'What's the matter? Walk! And if you walk, 'Shame on you, sit down.!
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My life, like a sandbar,
has been taken over by a monster of a man
who wants my body under his control
so that, if he wishes,
he can spit in my face,
slap me on the cheek,
pinch my rear;
so that, if he wishes,
he can rob me of the clothes,
take my naked beauty in his grip;
so that, if he wishes.
he can chain my feet,
with no qualms whatsoever whip me,
chop off my hands, my fingers,
sprinkle salt in the open wound,
throw ground-up black pepper in my eyes,
with a dagger can slash my thigh,
can string me up and hang me.