Fighting For Your Song, And Letting Others Sing Too
An evening at LLF, and a narcissistic exploration
i was part of a panel for the book launch of Saba Karim Khan’s latest non-fiction anthology called “Home #ItsComplicated”, for which I contributed an essay. the discussion on the panel revolved around the topic of the book itself; the meaning of home and what it means.
the whole discussion was incredible, but there is one part of the discussion i want to focus on, mostly because i haven’t stopped thinking about what i said (yes, very self absorbed, i know).
the last question Saba asked me was,
“I want to end by sharing a quote I heard some years ago, which has stayed with me. The original quote is by Henry David Thoreau but this is a version of it: “Most men and women, lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to the grave with the song still in them.” What is your song, for yourself and for Pakistan?”
truth be told, i walked onto that panel not knowing if i had a cohesive answer at all, in fact, i was secretly hoping that we’d run out of time and i wouldn’t have to answer it all, but alas, time remained and the question was asked. i mumbled a lot but eventually i got to an answer, and within the jumbled mess there was a quotable moment;
“you have to fight for your song. no one else will.”
this was laced in the discussion’s overall tone, where we had discussed how being creative or creatively inclined is often thankless work in pakistan, or work that is often discouraged just because of societal expectations. but when Saba asked the question, i felt this urge to openly challenge that societal pressure we all grew up around; being creative was a fight and it was and is an ugly truth, one that we’re shielded from. choosing to take that creative path was a fight; a fight with yourself to keep at it; a fight with everyone around you who discourages you; a fight with the world that might reject you.
i said what i wanted to, but two reactions from those listening to us, stuck with me.
both comments spoke to the intrinsic anixety of the statement; the anxiety of fighting and the ability to fight.
one person spoke about how women in pakistan may not be able to fight for their song given the way society is structured, given concerns around safety and about mobility and access. another person spoke to me directly and asked about how they can fight for their song if their fight is for something considered taboo, or considered outside the pale of society.
to have a song (be it writing, music, art, acting etc) and to be able to fight for it, is in and of itself, a privilege.
the fact that we were nearing the end of our session, and because the next panel was starting very soon, i couldn’t really address these comments fully, but i wish i had (which is maybe why i am writing this out too).
it’s one thing to fight for your own song; that is, to fight for your own craft and passions. you fight that fight because something inside of you is burning to tell the story, to make that song, to write that script. you find ways and avenues to make that happen for you. the second part of what i had said (“no one else will”) applies here because only you know the passion and the burning sensation you feel to do something or create something. we grew up in a time where creative communities were few and far between, so no one else would be there to help you- literally. you had to work, often alone.
the questions and comments on what i had said, in many ways begs the question of how true that “no one else will” bit is, or how true it should continue to be.
the onus of creating (and holding) space for creativity to flourish should be on those who fight for their song; the people fighting are doing the work and therefore can always help those struggling to find their footing, creatively. what we’ve lost in the past is that sense of community and that sense of creative collectives. what both those people pointed to in their questions was that feeling of lack of community; how can someone scared to fight for their song even begin to collect strength without community?
so when i said that you must fight for your song, maybe i meant, you must fight for your song, not only for yourself but for everyone around you; fight for your song, so that you may help someone else fight too!
community is being built in pakistan, at least that’s the feeling i get. younger creatives are holding space. it is a slow process but one that we’ll get better at as time passes.
till then, write/sing/act/paint/ do what your heart desires; don’t let perfection hold you back. creativity is just as much about the practice of craft as it is about the end product. do it, because your body itches for you to.
oh, and if you’re in pakistan and want to read the essay anthology, you can buy it here.