As I read ““Hindustan Is a Dream”: Urdu Poetry and the Political Theology of Intimacy”, which revolves around poetic attempts to resist exclusionary practices against Muslims in India, I found myself following the portrayal of women throughout the text and wondered whether they, similar to Muslims, are also pushed to the outer circles of the Indian society, though less explicitly. From Hussain Hardry to Jaun, we continuously encounters key poets who are all males. In talking about Hindustan’s meaning and related issues, the author wrote “Hindustan Doesn’t Belong to Anyone’s Father”. The author later went on making her point about intimacy from observing the gathering of male poets. The names, the people, the actions (citing poems, smoking on the streets), the attention seem to be entirely centered on males. The lack of women presence causes me to wonder. Why not “Hindustan Doesn’t Belong to Anyone’s Mother” instead of “Hindustan Doesn’t Belong to Anyone’s Father”? Why Jaun and Haidry instead of female poets? Did women not write or was it the case that their writing did not receive attention? If they did not write, then why might that happen? Did they have access to resources that might have enabled them to?
The first major appearance of women in the text comes from Sita, Maryam (Mary), and
Ayesha. Yet, not only are their roles constrained to those of wives and lovers, but their appearance also simply serve as backgrounds for a central male character-the godking Rama. The next portrayal of women is on page 27, when the author wrote “Mothers pray constantly for the safety of their sons, because young Muslim men are particularly
vulnerable in Modi’s India”. Again, women are to be attached to some men and restricted to their traditional roles. Similarly, in talking about the story of a young girl named Priyanshi, the author attached her identity to her father’s, elaborating on how the father was a hero.
Another point I find interesting about the text is the discussion on watan, defined as an “idea of emplaced belonging, and of topophilia, cultivated not just through birth, or ancestry, but through relations with the sometimes radically different others with whom one shares space.” This idea relates to the metaphor of garden discussed in the ‘Sharing a room with Sparrow” reading. As a Vietnamese student in the US, I wonder whether it is possible to cultivate this idea of watan within the context of Vanderbilt, and if so, how to go around doing this. My project, which investigates the relationship between acculturative stress (the stress associated with transitioning to a new culture) and mentorship among Vietnamese international students will hopefully become one way to delve deeper into this idea.