We are Typhoon

Just finished reading Typhoon by Qaisra Shahraz. What a story! Well done Qaisra jan. I enjoyed the story; I laughed and cried with your characters. I also enjoyed the command of language displayed throughout the book. All together a praiseworthy book.

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I guess my take on the story would differ a lot from other average readers. As I come from a land where women are classified as second-class gender. Not that the equality of men and women is fully established elsewhere. Only a few days ago the story of women in sport facing sexual harassment and abuse was brought to surface after a female footballer was kissed on the lips by the Spanish Football Federation president.

For me Typhoon was not a story that might happen in a faraway land. It was a reality, a day to day routine. The daily trauma of living with the guilt that being a woman demands. To expect respect is an impossibility, asking for too much. You are but a temptation, an offensive being that should remain out of sight. Reading Typhoon, the fear of being in the wrong place at a wrong time reignited vividly in my memory. In Typhoon, a neighbour, that happened to be a woman, threw her sandal to hit another woman who was judge guilty by the village gossiper. Was this in the story or a scene that I had witnessed in reality?

We are getting near the 1st anniversary of Mahsa (Jina) Amini's death. Mahsa is the girl that was killed by the morality police because her scarf was not approved by those who arrested her. Typhoon reminded me of the pain of being a woman, the harassments and insults women are subjected to on daily bases. The phrase 'bare head' سر لخت used a few times in the book, was not just a familiar phrase. It was a legitimate reason to be killed for.

I hope one day we are human enough to think of every race and gender as humans with equal rights.

دردی بس آشنا از میان برگ‌های داستان بیرون می‌جهید و راه گلویم را به بغض سد می‌کرد. درد جهل. درد زنی زیبا در پاکستان. زنی که توسط پچپچه‌های زنان نادان محل به گناهی محکوم شد و بزرگ روستا به قضاوت وی نشست. بزرگی که در بستر مرگ زن را فرامی‌خواند و طلب بخشش می‌کند تا با وجدانی آسوده به دیدار پروردگار خود بشتابد.

تجارب خیلی از ما نیز به ردپای چنین زنانی آلوده است. زنان نادانی که هیچ آرزویی در ژرفای وجودشان نمی‌درخشد و در تخلف هر مرد جز ردپایی زن به دنبال هیچ توجیه دیگری نیستند. با عشق بیگانه‌اند و مهر را جز تمکین بی‌قید و شرط به مردی که مالک آنان است نمی‌دانند.

چه خوب که نسل جدید کمتر به آفت جهل آلوده است و چه خوب که نسل جدید می‌خواهند سکان زندگی خود را خود در دست داشته باشند. ممنون از زنان آگاه ایران که تجربه‌ای را که هم سن و سالهای من و امثال من قادر به تصور آن هم نبودند را رقم زدند. با آرزوی روزهای بهتر برای ایران و ایرانی. با احترام به جنبش #زن-زندگی-آزادی

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