“And ease my task for me”
An original Vagina Monologue by Marwah Kiani
Number 1 : Dear husband, there is a woman behind you
Quran: 31(luqman):14: And we have enjoined on man (to be dutiful and good) to his parents. His mother bore him in weakness and hardship upon weakness and hardship, and his weaning is in two years — give thanks to Me and your parents, unto Me in the final destination.
Weakness turns into strength as she crunches up in the hardship she takes upon herself to deliver you to the sun. She is 50% of you and 50% herself and when I squeeze out the remains of the beginning of your legacy you understand that there is a child within the palm of your shaken hands and you must remember that I am the woman behind him as your mother stood behind you. You must remember In those moments when you forget that the stretch marks I’ve earned are the hands our child splays across my stomach. In those little increments that separate spaces which are the miles i keep running to catch up to you and you assume that my feet are too small to carry the weight of two but i carry you and me and this child and your house and your anger and home and you forget that there is a woman that is running by you. As your mother is responsible for the extra calcium in your bones, I am responsible for the marrow that fills it with a bigger chance of survival. That your dna is written like destiny in which Allah put me with you and not under you. Remember that when you throw stones and road blocks under my feet, you injure the paradise Allah has set beneath them. You lock the gates to Jannah that we’ve tried so hard to open. You litter it with earthly egos and forget that it was placed there to show that my feet maybe smaller than yours in size, but the surface area I cover through the blessings placed under then make the shoe fit. Remember that no matter how many times our child carries me around the house of God, it will never amount to one contraction that pulsed because the amount of love a mother has for her child runs faster than the adrenaline in short breaths which never runs out, but I’ll let her believe that it meant all the world anyway because a mother always stands behind a child. And a child stands in front of you. But I am not your mother my love, for the partner does not run ahead or tag along behind you, but stretches out miles to run beside you.
Number 2: Dear husband, You are not my Allah
16:106: Whoever disbelieved in Allah after his belief, except him who is forced thereto and whose heart is at rest with faith; but such as open their breasts to disbelief, on them in wrath from Allah, and theirs will be a great torment.
My heart rests under your heavy one because my emotions thread through into nets upon nets to bounce yours back up, but do not mistake it for a head bowed down and my heart in your hands. Faith is the hanging thread to be climbed to reach Him and the one that I want to push you up on. You think that this thread is one you’ve got wrapped around your finger to go around in circles and circles until I find myself searching for the thumbprint you don’t let me forget. Don’t forget that my bones are yours, made of the dirt and sediments that we go back to. Don’t forget that my brain is the same size as yours, that my heart beats as quickly as yours, that my blood runs red like the strawberries in a garden that Allah planted, not you. You humanize me as if you yourself were born in the heavens and raised by angels and the halo you peice over and over again does not exist because you’ve bent into horns that I do not wish to see and know that you and I go to the same hell and wish for the same heaven and your chance is not higher than mine because you have a penis and I lack it. Your bones may be wider than mine, and the ligaments may stretch out more so you can grab me when I am vulnerable, but I carry a mind as capable as yours and I carry my rights that Allah gave me as a woman as high as yours but you down them syrups of an ego that makes you an inhumane man and you forget where you came from. You forget you come from the push of a father and a pull of a mother and you are a being crafted by the love of God Himself, and you can push this world through your mind and forget that you’re going down under just like the rest of us and you can think of the excuse that Allah gives mercy to you because He loves you but don’t you dare forget that there is always enough love in Him to love me too.
Number 3: Dear husband, Understand Ying and Yang
Surah 4:1: O mankind! Be dutiful to your Lord who created you from a single person (Adam), and from him He created his wife (Hawwa(Eve)), and from them both He created many men and women; and fear through Allah through Whom you demand (your mutual rights), and (do not cut the relationships) of the womb (kinship). Surely, Allah is Ever and All-Watcher over you.
Eve was made for Adam’s company, not his objectification, so when you walk around this home thinking you have a superior hand over me as a whole, let me remind you that I was made to stand right next to you because let me remind you that you are not the epitome of perfection in which you can create crafts of beaty and wholeness on this earth because let me remind you that are a piece of a protein still trying to find it’s perfect 3D fit. Because you were made with parts sticking out and cracks needing to be stuck. That I was made to help fill cracks will gorilla glue and a bit of love and punch here and there to remind you that there are places on you in which my knuckles can intertwine to fit. That dents and bruises exist in the male body, and the corresponding pieces needed to make him whole is the woman with him. That a woman is built with concaves and con curves that make her stand out but when you hug her she can mold right into you like a ying yang puzzle that only has two peices so we need to stop looking for more. And yes my love, there are those out there that may not form to create a perfect circle, and those who just end up making a shape of their own, but they are not built to be better or worse. They are built for the balance of heavy hands and light eyes; the balance of short inhales and loud exhales, for the balance of nature and man, the nature of man and the man and woman. For Eve was not made from the rib of Adam because she was dependent on the other 23. She was made because she makes up the part of him that makes a human an authentic bundle of the lovely bones that are hard enough to break. She holds that extra piece that you think maynot be needed, but you know it’s still important because it’s you. Because she is you. Because a Man is a Woman. And a woman is a man. SO remeber that when you throw stones at me, the amount of scars needing to be repaired are the ones I’ve bled. That the viscosity of your spit is equivalent to the degraded blood spreading across my sharp cheeks . And don’t you forget that the heart that beats in me, it beats just like yours, and looks just like yours, and you may be able to pick of bricks and chuck, but I can carry the weight and not let go. That the amount of space I cover in God’s heart, that the distance I run with my frail feet makes me the woman in Islam that Allah wants me to be. That your masculinity might send you to the hell you have always avoided and the standards that you create may be your safe haven, but don’t you dare say that I’m not enough for this. Because I am a woman. And a woman is always enough.