God Bless, Myanmar

Dear golden land, Myanmar

You’re the place that Allah sent me

Whatever traps some set to deprive us from you

We’re still struggling to stay within you.

Because you’re our treasure to dwell.

Whatever adversities we faced in your land,

We’re still striving to get to you.

Because you’re our golden land to live in.

Whoever turn traitor against your sovereignty,

We’re still fighting to protect your bosom.

Because you’re our life-blood to survive.

Love you, Myanmar from the core of our hearts.

God bless you, our golden land!

A  Worthless Soul

Wandering on the alienated lands,

my lifespan seems to wind up silently

but not know where my dwelling place is now

I’m unable to comprehend the meaning of my life.

my dignity seems to be valueless

but not know where my greatness is now

I’m unable to comprehend the meaning of my rights.

Self-Esteem

What is more powerful than self-esteem?

What is more valuable than self-esteem?

Self-esteem protects us from enemies.

It keeps us happy with what we have.

Why need to be sad if I’m happy for being myself?

Why need to be hurt if my expectation is just from me and the Almighty?

Why need to be lost if I have the ability to win?

Why need to worry if I take care of enough myself?

Because I know I’m amazing,

gifted,

inspired,

desired,

outrageous,

contagious,

cherished,

loved,

adored,

powerful and

enough self-esteemed.

Wealthy and worthy are created

by the Almighty with all abilities.

A Window to My World

In the darkness lies a soul

Suffocating as a whole.

In the darkness lies a heart

With loved ones being torn apart.

In the darkness lies a child,

With no world to reconcile

With no light to ignite,

And with no window to sight

The colourful world,

Through the magical words.

They say “Magic falls out when you open a book.”

Yet they create nightmares and horrors to look.

They say “Books are like a home.”

Yet they destroy a place that I call home.

They say “Education is future.”

Yet they deny my future.

They say “A book is a window to the world.”

Yet they deny a window to my world.

They say “You are the window to the world.”

Yet they hide me from my world.

A child’s future is not toy, but book –

The window to the world to breathe and look.

A refugee child’s dream is to travel

Through the books to be acceptable,

Not to be confined to the windowless refugee shed,

In the darkness and hopelessness the life sees its dead.

The ability to read is a child’s greatest joy.

A book is the child’s true toy.

The book that opens the window to the world.

The book that allows the light to enter from the magical worlds.

The book that finds the lost soul.

The child that the book makes whole.

Marriage: Not for me ?

By BZ Qaveer

I was born as a baby girl

A princess for my father

A friend for my mother

But being born as a daughter

I become a burden for them

Because they have to pay dowry.

Now I’m a colleen,

With ample of abilities

Despite old enough to get married

I’m still single, rejected

My parents live from hand-to-mouth

They couldn’t afford those demands.

My smooth skin turns wrinkled now

My beauty is fading

My youth inverts into older

My eyes transform into purblind

Yet I couldn’t be a spouse for somebody.

The age of marriage is over

My tenderness is gone

The older my age goes, the more dowry they demand.

My young sisters are in line, too

The weight of the world is on my head

Yet I remain as a burden.

Seeing the rich’s wedding around

Tears are dripping through my cheek

All my other friends got married

They visit their parents with their cuddling babies

How can I show my face to them?

Having a form of body, I’m useless

No privilege to be chosen as a spouse

No man here to wed me without dowry

Who invented this system?

I find no entrance to leave this world

Just colliding inside bashfully.

I am a treasure of future

But my society treats me as a trash

Is this a crime being born as a girl?

Yet I remain single and rejected

No man wants to wed me without dowry.

Indeed, this life has no marriage for me.

Note: The dowry system is the fallout to Rohingya marriage. It has been poisoning our social lives in today’s community. The poet immensely articulates how the system gives side-effects to a Rohingya girl who has not chosen yet as a spouse since her parents can’t pay dowry for the would-be-groom.