Sabika Abbas Naqvi
Poet, Performer and Educator, Lucknow
Ab bhi mulk se pyaar se pyar hai humko- a poem by Sabika Abbas Naqvi
Fire on her tongue. Love in her heart.
I have loved my country, when men of my community were publicly lynched,
I have loved my country when I was called a Pakistani whore,
I have loved my country when traitor was written across our foreheads,
when dead bodies of Muslims were taken out of drains,
Now it is time for my country to love me back…
“ I'm a poet who performs on the streets and am a socio-emotional learning educator. My work involves embedding love and harmony, conversations on democratic dissent in public spaces- radical love on the streets, which has imbibed the values of anti-oppression, anti-marginalisation politics. When I talk about love and harmony, it doesn't mean we forget the oppressive systems that are already in place. When we talk about Ganga Jamuna Tehzeeb ( a syncretic fusion of Hindu cultural elements with Muslim religious elements), then we cannot forget casteism we can never forget communal marginalisation. I’m talking about a future where people will be equal and oppressive systems destroyed.”
Through her poems, Sabika has been vociferous in highlighting the hypocrisy of ‘nationalism’ especially for minorities, in India.
“There is a burden often put on Muslims’ shoulders to prove our patriotism for the country. Go to any small neighbourhood, and you will see that even a small muslim shop owner will have the national flag on his shop during Independence and Republic day. What kind of love is this, where we keep loving those who oppress us without ever getting the love and respect we deserve? When we are marginalised, unsafe and killed on the streets, when we don’t even have the time to grieve our losses - how can we love ? “
Her focus during the pandemic has been on ‘love’ and ‘loving’.
“I am the founder of Sar-e-Rahguzar: Poetry on the Streets. With my friend and artist Shilo Shiv Suleiman, founder of Fearless Collective, we worked on a project called 'Touch', a campaign travelling to different cities and painting the streets with murals and poetry talking about love, desires and communal harmony. In Lucknow our mural spoke of not just socio-political and economic desires, but also bodily and sexual desires of Muslim women and in Jaipur, ‘Hain tujhe bhi ijaazat, karle tu bhi mohabbat’ (You also have the permission to fall in love) on love and masculinity. The act of permanently embedding love letters on streets which will remain there long after the artists leave, is a powerful political act because for many, being able to love outside one’s religion, caste and community or even having friendships outside these borders, is a privilege. Love is political. And these public sites became places of radical love.”
She goes on to speak about alliances, in times marred with violence.
“ I have had broken friendships where a friend called me a Pakistani ‘whore’ because of my politics. But I have also seen allies sit throughout the night and create posters for supporting people of my community, people offering their homes to those whose homes were burnt down, I have seen people put days and nights together just to ensure that people come together to do relief work. My heart breaks everyday to see friends in jail; allies who put themselves on the line for everyone’s rights, fearlessly standing, even after innumerable police cases against them. People who have gone to courts in the middle of the night, who have risked their careers, who have been thrown out of their places just for standing up. I have also seen people fight their families, and convince people around them to believe in love, harmony and equality. And it has been incredible to see people fall in love while protesting and being out there on the streets. I have seen people who may not be aware of policies, but have come out on the streets because it’s severely affecting their friends. I have come back home from a very emotionally, tiring day and have had my friends waiting for me; to hold me and to feed me. In such times, when our safety and security are under threat, when someone is able to take even a small step with us, it is huge!. No people’s movement can run without support systems and allies.”
As an artist speaking up about oppression, she negotiates spaces everyday.
“ I am a huge believer in ‘calling people in’ rather than ‘calling them out’, especially as someone who performs in public spaces it is essential for me to engage beyond lectures or panel discussions. My biggest challenge is the exhaustion and burden of engagement, sometimes ignoring what is thrown at me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm triggered by everything ! Once I was sitting on the road, getting ready to perform, when I hear a man saying “ ab ki baar sarkar ko aane do, musalmano ka naam o nishaan mita denge desh se” (let the government come this time, we will remove all traces of Muslims from the country). Now that space automatically becomes violent and triggering for me. I have to choose… Do I fight influencers online who take on Muslim identities to crack jokes and spread Islamophobia or do I fight an entire regime who is planning my genocide?
On what keeps her going, Sabika says…
“When people have interfaith and inter caste friendships and love, when you care for people and you care enough, you are able to understand their socio-political and economic positions of marginalisation and privilege. Kisaan jab beej bota hain toh woh fasal ki kaamna karta hain. Humney pyaar ke beej boye hain aur hum fasal ki kaamna karte hain. Ye ummeed ki is beej mein se ped niklega. (When a farmer sows seeds, he wishes for a good harvest. We have sown seeds of love, we too hope for our tree of love to grow from it.) The fact that the human heart has the potential to love, keeps me going. ”
Interviewed by Nida Ansari
Collage by Pooja Dhingra, Embroidery on collage by Singhleton, Hand-written words on collage by Nehal Vijay
Sabika’s Photograph shot by Tejinder Singh Khamkha