Fatima Bhutto, Whispers of The Desert

Following poems were written by Fatima Bhutto and published in her book titled Whispers of The Desert (Oxford University Press, 1998). Should be noted that she was born in 1982 so most of these poems were written when she was 14 or 15 years of age.

“To my darling Papa,
with all the love in
the world…
this is our story.”

You are, page 3

You are
a solitary
star
in a dark,
empty sky.
You
light up the evening
and never
do you
die.
You are a dazzling
sapphire
that shines
only
in my eyes.
For you are
my star
and I
am but your sky.
(end 1995)

I feel your tender lips, page 12

I feel your tender lips
against mine. Could this
be magic?
Could this be true?

How many nights
have I dreamt of this?
Come
into my arms once more.
Let me feel you are here.

So much time
has passed since
I last held you this close.

Tell me you love me.
Let me hear those sweet words
whispered in my ears.

I cannot believe
you’re here with me.
I’ve counted the seconds
for this moment to come.

But now
that you’re finally here,
tell me
when will
you disappear?
(mid 1996)

I have lost the love, page 27

I have lost the love of my life
but she is not gone
she is still with me.
I have seen her
smile in my sleep. I have felt
her breath on my shoulder as I lie
resting.

I have heard her laughter floating
in the air
and I can still feel her heart beating
next to mine.
(mid 1996)

I lie in the darkness, page 31

I lie in the darkness
unaware of where I stand.
I cannot see you
but feel you standing by me.
I know I am alone
yet I sense your presence.
I feel protected
by your shield,
your armour of love.
The day that armour
breaks
is the day
I shall be truly alone
without you.
(mid 1995)

Will you be near me, page 33

Will you be near me when evening falls?
Protect me from the cold wind,
hold me in your arms?
When the moon lights up the land,
will I have you with me?
When the stars
glitter in the darkness, will you kiss me?
Keep me until the night lifts and daylight gleams
upon us?
Or will the clouds descend on you and sweep you
far away?
(late 1995)

He walks away, page 36

He walks away
with promises of return.
I fear that won’t happen.
But what do I know?
I am but a woman.

He comes back wounded.
He will never heal.
What do I know?
I am but a woman.

He falls,
will not rise.
What do I know?
I am but a woman.
(early 1995)

She sits, page 38

She sits on a throne,
surrounded by others
who grovel at her feet.
She seats them next to her
and dismisses the ones who stand.
She co-operates with those sitting next to her and
forgets the ones who stood
She searches for those who know nothing better
than to worship her every more.
But during all this,
she neglects those who stood there waiting,
waiting for less than power,
waiting for basic needs to be met.
Yet she does nothing but smile at them
and make promises she knows she cannot keep.
Not because of hate.
Not because of greed.
Because power blinds those who are
ignorant.
(early 1995)

He looks on, page 39

He looks on
with caring eyes
sees people from within
ignores exteriors
welcomes them in shares their pain
listens
understands
not like others he feels
not judges
could one this strong
you wonder
have feelings this deep?
Yes yes indeed for compassion
is born only
by those strong within
(early 1995)

Up in the mountains, page 45

Up in the mountains,
I am free, calm,
High, near the heavens,
where the air is clearer,
I am myself at last.
I cry without an audience. I smile
without guilt.
I change for no one.
I am loved
as I am.
(end 1994)

April 20, 2008 Fatima Bhutto

Photo and biography of Fatima Bhutto are published by Wikipedia A lovely name Fatima for a very unique and admirable woman. Fatima Bhutto is the daughter of Murtaza Bhutto a Pakistani politician who was assassinated when she was 14 years old. Fatima was born in Afghanistan (May 29, 1982) and resides in Pakistan. Her first literary publication was a collection of poems written between 1995 and 1997 titled Whispers of The Desert. Second published book is 8:50 Am October 8, 2005, Stories of Hope and Courage from the Earthquake in Pakistan.

Clip about Fatima's father

Following is a clip of Fatima reading from the 8:50 AM October 8 book.

Couple other photos of Fatima Bhutto

December 28, 2007 Bhutto Assassinated in Attack on Rally

Early morning news for the US, the assassination of Benazir Bhutto. A bit amazing to learn about her with a history of "events." Just wonder what is the right that makes people like Mrs. Bhutto risk the lives of others? Does her message warrants the lives of others?
On a more positive note is the work of her niece Fatima Bhutto, additional info about her here. A very nice article by her is These are Strange Times where links to four other of her articles are found. Here is a lovely paragraph from her article titled Welcome to Tehran.

A man on the road held out two pomegranates in his palms, one was sliced open. He shouted out the price for a piece of fruit. Cars slowed down to bargain with the pomegranate seller and I looked at my taxi driver, trying to find a common language in which to ask why this man was selling only what he could hold in his hand. The taxi driver nodded his head and pointed a few feet ahead of the pomegranate man - there were families sitting by the road, on the hoods of their cars, eating pomegranate and drinking tea. There was a truck full of the fruit parked by the picnickers. The taxi driver nodded again towards the truck, "For you?" he asked. I put my hand to my heart and shook my head, touched, "no thank you."

Another very human paragraph is found in her article titled Welcome to Tehran.

After a pleasant Iran Air flight I landed at Mehrabad International Airport. A sign greeted me: Welcome to Tehran, Fati. I am not a nervous flier, but I am a nervous traveler. As I walked towards the departure gate at Karachi's Jinnah airport, my mother kissed me and sensing my apprehension at the journey ahead held my face and said, "You're going to your country, safe travels". She was not wrong. As I sat in the taxi and drove off towards North Tehran, I felt wholly at home. The foothills of the Alborz mountains were laced with snow, but there was a warmth in Tehran I could not have imagined.

And to add to the repertoire of Fatima Bhutto, the articles include a couple photos that are most telling:
Fatima (left) with interpreter Samira (right) posing with Shah's boots at Sa'ad Abad Palace in Tehran.
Girl selling flowers on the way to Behesht Zahra (photo 2002, Ali Moayedian).
And a different photo of her from Nasi Khan blog. Her facial features more serious offer a contrast to her smile in the first photo.