presents from my aunts in pakistan Flashcards
summary
autobiographical account of how the poet remembers being a teenager and receiving gifts from pakistan. it recalls her thoughts and memories of struggling with her cultral identity from being both english and pakistani
tone
- nostalgic tone as she seems to cherish the memories
- tone is apprehensive as the speaker seems confused and feels guilty for her reaction to the gifts
context
- moniza alvi was born in pakistan and moved to england when she was a few months old
- her dad is pakistani and her mom is english
- poem focuses on a specific time of her life when identity was crucial
quotes
- “they sent me salwar kameez peacock-blue”
- “was alien in the room”
- “my salwar kameez didnt impress my schoolfriends” / “but often i admire the mirror work”
- “no fixed identity staring through the fretwork”
“they sent me salwar kameez peacock-blue”
- the metaphor “salwar kameez” represents pakistan
- the adjective “peacock” is used to reflect the vibrance of the gift
“was alien in the room”
the adjective “alien” brings her conflicted feelings and her low self esteem in considering her embracing her heritage as she feels she is anadequate
“my salwar kameez didnt impress my schoolfriends” / “but often i admire the mirror work”
- the speaker juxtaposes the opinion of her friends and her own
- the symbolism of the “mirror” is a reflection of her inner conflict at this moment. she seems like an outsider
“no fixed identity staring through the fretwork”
speaker uses colloquial language and visual imagery to reflect her feelings of alientation as there is a barrier between her english and pakistani identity
structure
- poem is free verse
- written with indented lined across the page to apear relentless and reflect her waving emotions
- 5 stanzas with an irregular number of lines to also reflect speaker emotions
poem
They sent me a salwar kameez
peacock-blue,
and another
glistening like an orange split open,
embossed slippers, gold and black
points curling.
Candy-striped glass bangles
snapped, drew blood.
Like at school, fashions changed
in Pakistan -
the salwar bottoms were broad and stiff,
then narrow.
My aunts chose an apple-green sari,
silver-bordered
for my teens.
I tried each satin-silken top -
was alien in the sitting-room.
I could never be as lovely
as those clothes -
I longed
for denim and corduroy.
My costume clung to me
and I was aflame,
I couldn’t rise up out of its fire,
half-English,
unlike Aunt Jamila.
I wanted my parents’ camel-skin lamp -
switching it on in my bedroom,
to consider the cruelty
and the transformation
from camel to shade,
marvel at the colours
like stained glass.
My mother cherished her jewellery -
Indian gold, dangling, filigree,
But it was stolen from our car.
The presents were radiant in my wardrobe.
My aunts requested cardigans
from Marks and Spencers.
My salwar kameez
didn’t impress the schoolfriend
who sat on my bed, asked to see
my weekend clothes.
But often I admired the mirror-work,
tried to glimpse myself
in the miniature
glass circles, recall the story
how the three of us
sailed to England.
Prickly heat had me screaming on the way.
I ended up in a cot
In my English grandmother’s dining-room,
found myself alone,
playing with a tin-boat.
I pictured my birthplace
from fifties’ photographs.
When I was older
there was conflict, a fractured land
throbbing through newsprint.
Sometimes I saw Lahore -
my aunts in shaded rooms,
screened from male visitors,
sorting presents,
wrapping them in tissue.
Or there were beggars, sweeper-girls
and I was there -
of no fixed nationality,
staring through fretwork
at the Shalimar Gardens.
compare to
nothings changed