“We run our hands on the carved door of Arabic;/ We bless the embroidered walls of Arabic;/ We hold the gates of Arabic…” Poem of the Week (20 October), by Rakhshan Rizwan.Read More
Rakhshan Rizwan was born in Lahore, Pakistan and then moved to Germany where she studied Literature and New Media. She completed her M.A in British, American and Postcolonial Studies from the University of Münster and is currently a Ph.D candidate at Utrecht University in the Netherlands.
“So hurry, dye those duppatas, dot those elegant paisleys,/ So place those fraying jasmine wreathes/ round delicate wrists…” Poem of the Week (September 2), by Rakhshan Rizwan.Read More
“Growing up in Lahore, I always felt othered…” Rakhshan Rizwan, The Missing Slate’s Poet of the Month, talks to Rosario Freire.Read More
“She hears the crowing of birds outside,/ her neighbour cussing at the colony chowkidar,/ the petroleum cough of the retired colonel’s jeep…” Poem of the Week (October 29), by Rakhshan Rizwan.Read More
“In winter the school year begins,/ we play gili danda and oonch neech/ in the schoolyard,/ We race home till our legs hurt…” Poem of the Week (September 10), by Rakhshan Rizwan.Read More
“Is it me? The eternal foreigner afraid/ of even the sidewalks of this new country, even the/ sunlight bites.”
By Rakhshan Rizwan