Where Reality Truly Resides?

By Fariha Chowdhury

As a Bengali woman, I wanted to voice my pain for the Bangladeshi fast fashion workers who are thrown into terrible working conditions. My poem compares beautiful nature against the ugly poverty that drags Bangladesh down.

Along vast, flat plains 
And large rivers flowing from the Himalayas
Roam Bengal tigers 

Their roars echoing across mountains 

With crystal clear water lakes 
Surrounded by every green hill

Mothers carry their bald babies to the nearest nature tub
Gaunt, stray dogs scarfing leftover white rice

*

Hearing Bengali traders calling bargains
For everything under the sun

Smelling fresh kebabs and naan
Wafting through the busy streets
Being priced at the lowest, just to be able to make a guaranteed profit

Trading vivid pieces of clothing
Sarees, jewelry, blouses

And even bed covers, sheets, and lockets too

The beauty of the displayed colorful fruits
Juicy, plump full Mangos
Firm, yet ripe Papayas
Guava and Jackfruit, most loved

A fun street fair view to get your somber day by
You return to work for the bare minimum . . . 

Little boys crying for their mothers
Working in the run down factory next door

Falling asleep with wet tears rolling down their face
They knock their heads into each other 
And doze off …

*

Men stand on noukas looking past the glass-like water
Peering for spots to drop their nets

Fish flee

Only little boys voicing their fun

Pure, large droplets of rain pat on the ground
Creating muddy slides of fun 

*

Rickshaws nearly crashing into cars
Honking and cursing each other

Soft nature seeks to rid poverty

But how?

...

Garment factory workers fingers cripple as their dreary eyes droop
With their only motive being to fill their rumbling bellies 
They work endlessly

Killing themselves to earn the bare minimum
To get the bits and scraps
To piece together of what is
To simply survive—

Each stitch determines a fate
Each needle patches reality
Each loop repeats the cycle . . .

Clothes are piling up, closing in on our future
Suffocating us—

They are trapping us from change

They are trapping us from advancing  

They are

Giving into the larger consumers, the muscular trade networks
The hungry, ignorant clients
The supply chains
Feeding the system to grow bigger
And bigger
And bigger

And collapse—

But not on them, on us. 

*2013 Dhaka garment factory collapse 
 Rana Plaza

Girls Write Now On the Other Side of Everything: The 2023 Anthology

Do you know what it’s like to communicate with your family across a salty ocean’s divide? Do you want the sun and moon to enter your home with stories written in embers? Do you seek voices that will punctuate the darkness? Welcome to the other side of everything. It’s the other side of silence, the other side of childhood, the other side of hate, the other side of indifference, it’s the other side of sides, where the binary breaks down. It’s a new paradigm, a destination, a different perspective, a mindset, a state of openness, the space between the endless folds in your forehead, hopes for tomorrow, and reflections on the past. This anthology of diverse voices is an everything bagel of literary genres and love songs, secrets whispered in the dark of night, conversations held with ancestors under the sea. 

READ ON THE OTHER SIDE

VISIT ANTHOLOGY LIBRARY

Process

I wrote this piece because I wanted to bring awareness to the Bangladeshi fast fashion workers. I used descriptive language to help transport the reader to the setting I am speaking about. I worked on this poem for quite a while and have gotten many people to edit it. I have never been to Bangladesh, but I have done research and looked at stories in order for me to construct this poem.