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Nadia HashimiA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Burqas and veils are complicated symbol in the novel, representing both patriarchal oppression and security. The burqa is a garment that completely conceals a woman’s face and body. In some Islamic traditions, women are required to wear a burqa when in public or around men. The hijab (or the veil, as Hashimi refers to it) is a less restrictive garment that covers a woman’s head. The burqa is frequently used as a metonym for women; for example, during Benafsha’s execution, Shekib sees “the row of blue burqas behind a row of spectator soldiers” (308). The burqa, part of the women’s appearance, becomes a substitution for their entire identity.
For Shekiba, the burqa/veil is a defensive garment. Because of her disfigurement, being veiled helps hide her from the scrutiny of those around her. It allows her, in a way, to feel normal: Wearing a burqa makes her look just like the women around her. When she is taken on as a guard of King Habibullah’s harem, she still has the impulse to hide her face with her veil. Though Shekib takes on the role of a man, it is hard to shed the gender identity that she developed her whole life. It is difficult for her to appear unveiled among the palace soldiers, though she soon grows more accustomed to it.
Rahima spends several years as a bacha posh, acting as a son to the family. As a boy, she is unrestricted by her garments: She grows accustomed to wearing tunics and trousers, clothing that allows for the active lifestyle of young boys. When Arif arranges Rahima’s marriage to Abdul Khaliq, she must resume the garb of a young woman. The veil now feels restrictive to her, denying her the freedom that she had grown to enjoy. Rahima sheds her veil and dons the garb of the bacha posh when she finally escapes Abdul Khaliq’s grasp in Kabul.
Folk proverbs and idioms are simple statements, stories, comparisons, analogies, and commonplace knowledge that help people understand the world. Khala Shaima is a rich repository of such proverbs, often incorporating them into casual conversation, or using them as a basis for argumentation.
For example, Khala Shaima uses proverbs to explain Raisa’s situation to Rahima. Khala Shaima describes Raisa’s addiction by saying, “In an ant colony, dew is a flood” (225). Rahima does not know what it was like to be in Raisa’s position, and she should reserve harsh judgement of her mother. Because the compass of her life is small, losing her daughters to marriage represents a disproportionate disaster. Though Rahima suffers worse and remains stronger than her mother, the scope of her life is greater, and she is better able to weather the hardship.
According to Khala Shaima, the human spirit “is harder than a rock and more delicate than a flower petal” (224). It is this contradictory combination of delicacy and endurance that allows people to survive. Shekiba, for example, survived due to the toughness she developed though a hard life. However, this does not mean that she did not suffer or love: She often feels alone throughout the novel, and she falls back on romantic ideas and the hope for motherhood in order to sustain her spirit. Raisa has created her own “rocky” spirit by turning to opium to dull the pain her more delicate side experiences. While this does not excuse the abdication of her motherly duties to Rohila and Sitara, it does make her into a more sympathetic character.
Birds function as a symbol of beauty, oppression, and freedom, as well as omens and carriers of prayer. Parwin, Rahima’s artistic sister, sketches a picture of “five birds each flying off in a different direction” (124). This picture represents the scattering of her family when she, Rahima, and Shahla learn they will be married into Abdul Khaliq’s family. As she watches Rahima and Shala argue, she quietly says, “One by one, the birds flew off” (130). This refrain becomes a motif throughout the story that Rahima and Shahla return to several times throughout the narrative.
Using this metaphor, Parwin is the first “bird” to fly off, to find the escape that most of the women in the novel desperately want. When Rahima sneaks out of Abdul Khaliq’s compound, Parwin again echoes the phrase, “Birds fly away, one by one” (181) when Rahima is dragged away. This time, it carries a fatalistic tone. At first, it was a metaphor for Parwin’s family falling apart. Now, however, it represents inevitability and being trapped in a situation over which she has no control: Though birds can fly, Parwin is trapped. Her suicide is an escape, breaking out of the metaphorical cage she is trapped in.
Birds are an omen for Shekiba and a method of prayer for Rahima. Both interpretations of birds play into folk tradition and superstition. When Shekiba moves into Aasif’s house, she frequently makes note of the three caged canaries they have outside the window. These seem to represent the Aasif, Gulnaz, and Shekiba. Following the birth of Shah, Gulnaz falls out of favor with Aasif; Shekiba, in many ways, becomes the primary wife. When Gulnaz attempts to curse Shah, Shekiba retaliates by doing the same to Shabnam. The little girl alerts her mother to the fact that one of the canaries has died. This represents the deterioration of Shekiba and Gulnaz’s relationship. It also represents the death of King Habibullah, of which they are notified soon after.
Before her final visit to Kabul, Rahima and Gulalai visit the family graveyard so Rahima can pay respects to Jahangir. Gulnaz sprinkles breadcrumbs on the graves for the finches that live in the cemetery. The belief is that the breadcrumbs represent prayers, which the birds will carry off with them after they eat the crumbs. As they leave, Rahima watches them until “one by one, the birds had flown away” (390). This time, the birds represent her final escape from Abdul Khaliq. She is flying away from her painful past into a future where she can find solace and healing.
Hashimi uses the motif of physical deformity to highlight the plight of women in Afghan society; she writes, “In Afghanistan, disabilities define people” (58). Because much of a woman’s worth is tied to her perceived marriageability and ability to produce sons for their husbands, physical defects jeopardize their potential for a secure life. Deformity also acts upon the superstitious aspect of their society. To be deformed means it was willed by God. The deformed individual is cursed or carries a curse. This is the case of Shekiba, who was disfigured in her youth, rather than born deformed. She is often treated like a monster.
Parwin was born with a lame leg, meaning she walks with a limp. Despite this, she is beautiful and artistic, qualities which should endear her to any man. Raisa and Khala Shaima hope that this will disqualify her from marriage; Khala Shaima uses it as an objection in the marriage ceremony. Shahla names her daughter after Parwin. She tells Rahima, “It was difficult because [her mother-in-law] thought it would be bad luck […] to name a child after someone with a lame leg” (317). This emphasizes the stigma attached to deformity and disability in this society.
Khala Shaima, who “was born with a crooked spine that wiggled through her back like a snake” (14) is the exception to the rule, though it is largely due to her strong spirit and mentality. Because of her hunchback, she never marries. This allows her to become much more independent than the other women in the novel. Khala Shaima uses her independence to provide better care for her nieces. Rahima reflects, “[I]f you knew how she’d been spoken to her whole life by strangers and family, you wouldn’t be surprised” (15) by her bluntness and sharp criticism. Though she has a crooked spine, she is the most morally upright and principled character in the novel. She subverts her society’s expectation that deformity is linked to weakness or curses.
By Nadia Hashimi