Newcastle fog
May. 10th, 2002 02:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedarksiren2I finally found a moment to read my National Geographic tonight after having shot some perty decent pool (sloppy!) with my roomie. It has a picture of a woman covered in cottony purple veils, holding a photograph of the Afghanistan girl from 1985 or so. yes, you all know what I am talking about; it's the girl that has the sea-green eyes, who looks frightened and accusing all at once. Easily the most famous NG photograph ever.
It has been 17 years, and the man who photographed her went on a quest to find her. Somehow, she survived, has three children, and is absolutely emotionless before the Western photographer. She had no idea her photo meant so much to the world, that it inspired so much curiosity. She cares not...her life is her husband, an arranged one back when she was 13 or 16 (she does not know how old she is), and her three children. She looks dead-pan into the camera, but dares not meet the eyes of the photographer, for he is not her husband.
Her face has filled out, her skin like leather after the sun of years. And her life has weathered her spirit...she says she preferred the life under Taliban rule...at least then it was organized.
And her life is her kids, the possible education of her two youngest daughters.
She prefers the settlement to the chaos that is change.
How bloody scary is that to me....
I have settled before.
I was miserable.
eventually, I have that dream, to be a wife and mother, to be happily-ever-after and all that crap. Not that she is that, but she has definately settled. Routines are safe, chaos is fumbling. I guess I'd rather discover the new species of beetle in the grass beneath my scraped-up chin than stare at an empty sky for eternity and accept is as such.
Amazing, how we fall into the secrity of ritual.
I suppose it all boils down to some sort of hunger, and the survival of that hunger.
Her eyes though...the light has disappeared. She is the aftermath of life's storms. And despite her fuller brows, furrowed above her now darkened eyes, her frowning, less full lips beneath the scar on her nose from 17 years ago in a camp, she is still just as haunting as she ever was.
http://mesa.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/afghangirl/index.html
It has been 17 years, and the man who photographed her went on a quest to find her. Somehow, she survived, has three children, and is absolutely emotionless before the Western photographer. She had no idea her photo meant so much to the world, that it inspired so much curiosity. She cares not...her life is her husband, an arranged one back when she was 13 or 16 (she does not know how old she is), and her three children. She looks dead-pan into the camera, but dares not meet the eyes of the photographer, for he is not her husband.
Her face has filled out, her skin like leather after the sun of years. And her life has weathered her spirit...she says she preferred the life under Taliban rule...at least then it was organized.
And her life is her kids, the possible education of her two youngest daughters.
She prefers the settlement to the chaos that is change.
How bloody scary is that to me....
I have settled before.
I was miserable.
eventually, I have that dream, to be a wife and mother, to be happily-ever-after and all that crap. Not that she is that, but she has definately settled. Routines are safe, chaos is fumbling. I guess I'd rather discover the new species of beetle in the grass beneath my scraped-up chin than stare at an empty sky for eternity and accept is as such.
Amazing, how we fall into the secrity of ritual.
I suppose it all boils down to some sort of hunger, and the survival of that hunger.
Her eyes though...the light has disappeared. She is the aftermath of life's storms. And despite her fuller brows, furrowed above her now darkened eyes, her frowning, less full lips beneath the scar on her nose from 17 years ago in a camp, she is still just as haunting as she ever was.
http://mesa.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/afghangirl/index.html
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no subject
Date: 2002-05-10 01:18 am (UTC)But I'd like to add that it's a lot easier to want to settle if you've been getting shelled and harrassed by warlords for 17 years.
no subject
Date: 2002-05-10 08:25 am (UTC)As an issue, I agree, it was weaker than most. But I can remember the first time I saw the girl on the cover back in '85 - my father was/ still is a big NG person - and I was lost with her for a while. I was young though, and back then, didn't realize the life she lived. All I knew was that she was this beautiful girl on the cover of a magazine that walked with me in dreams occasionally thereafter.
But I'd like to add that it's a lot easier to want to settle if you've been getting shelled and harrassed by warlords for 17 years.
I am, admittedly, not a politically-oriented individual. I have always somehow related it to war and violence, both being subjects I am amazed by daily. I am certain it has something to do with my migraines as a child - used to have hallucinations of an execution squad facing me, raising their guns while I stood terrified against a stone wall (No, I am not kidding).
Up until the past year I have had very little understanding of the Taliban, but essentially what I meant to get at was the sadness, whether it was forced upon her or not. I have seen so many people settling into dissatisfying lives over the past seven years, and it saddens me to think that they have done so, especially when they HAVE the choice not to, unlike Sharbat Gula.
I guess it has made me reflect a bit on how fortunate I am, to live with an open mind, one prepetuated by my parents, in a land built on freedom. And although I might have said otherwise seven years ago, I feel strong, and am floating on my freedom to choose, to live as I want to live, and essentially as freely as I am able to free myself from the binds of society.
Although, I suppose my obedience to such lovely creature as you, Mr.
*wink!*
no subject
Date: 2002-05-10 06:04 am (UTC)Settling. I settled once. For a long fucking assed time, I settled. Nearly 12 years, I settled for the life I thought I had to stick with, because it was one I had chosen - then found myself imprisoned in. Changing that - getting out - was one of the most difficult things I've ever done. Even today, sometimes, I have fleeting moments when I wonder if I *really* made the right choice. Then, of course, I come back to reality. I guess, for me, living with my ex husband was in its own way like living under the Taliban. And I ousted my personal Taliban 4 years ago, however, its effect on my life resonates loudly still. There are days when I wonder why I gave up the money, house, cars, security etc. for what has turned out to be riddled with debt, in an apartment, with little security and no steady person always there with me, etc. And then I remember why. Freedom. Freedom to make choices, to live the way I want to. Freedom to have friends, to be young and enjoy life. Freedom to be me...to *discover* who me is.
When I was married, even an old man once called me an "old woman". I don't think anyone would ever mistake me for such now. I have broken the chains of my own "taliban", but I can understand why a woman like her would miss such chains.
Freedom. It is something I will never willingly give up again. That I will never take for granted again. It is something I cherish.
I Remember Her
Date: 2002-05-10 07:48 am (UTC)Nothing in this world compares to freedom. Cherish it.
no subject
Date: 2002-05-10 08:25 am (UTC)"freedom! freedom!"
no subject
Date: 2002-05-10 08:27 am (UTC)ROFLMAO
Raise your hands in da air!!!
See ya tonight!
no subject
Date: 2002-05-10 08:51 am (UTC)i think i'm supposed to be going to the grid with sharpshinyclaws and company.
not sure yet cause i need to call her after i get some serious sleep.
if you're not going to the phantasy, you should come. as yoda so wisely says, "you must eat! come!" *evil grin*
tell wraptboy about it too if you get a chance.
BTW, I'M DONE!!!!! do you work today? let's go to edgewater and blow bubbles if you don't. edgewater! edgewater!
Sitting there, with Bats as entertainment...
Date: 2002-05-10 07:22 pm (UTC)I don't think I could live that way, but the way my SCAP European teacher made me think, "well, you feel that way because of how you are now. Imagine if you went through what she had to, would you feel the same way"?
It makes me think, "I hope to god I wouldn't end up like her. It would suck" (typical me).
Her eyes has dulled so much. I feel the fire snuffed, but I can understand her. I see a lot of it in my mother.