Gouache, ink & acrylic on board
A5
This painting is #1 in a series-of-six polyptych.
An Afghan villager, interned indefinitely without trial in the US-run Bagram internment facility, wears his regulation orange shalwar-kamis emblazoned with his internment serial number (ISN) and a white kufi cap. He clutches a Red Cross message in his hand - his only contact with his family back home. The calligraphy is of the opening stanza of a Persian poem I wrote whilst in Afghanistan in the early-2010s, and reads:
Dar īn mahbas kē bāz mīnashīnam
Kulgī marā sail mīkunand
Kē man haiwān shudam wa tū ādam
Bāyad chi kār kunam tā bofahmam
Kē jurmam chīst ō gunāh-i man
Man kē faqat āzādi mīkhāstam
Translation:
In this prison where I still sit,
Everyone looks at me as if I am an animal and you the human;
What must I do to understand what is my crime and sin?
I, who only wanted freedom
This reflects a common dynamic I encountered when visiting people detained at Bagram at that time.
Gouache, ink & acrylic on board
A5
This painting is #1 in a series-of-six polyptych.
An Afghan villager, interned indefinitely without trial in the US-run Bagram internment facility, wears his regulation orange shalwar-kamis emblazoned with his internment serial number (ISN) and a white kufi cap. He clutches a Red Cross message in his hand - his only contact with his family back home. The calligraphy is of the opening stanza of a Persian poem I wrote whilst in Afghanistan in the early-2010s, and reads:
Dar īn mahbas kē bāz mīnashīnam
Kulgī marā sail mīkunand
Kē man haiwān shudam wa tū ādam
Bāyad chi kār kunam tā bofahmam
Kē jurmam chīst ō gunāh-i man
Man kē faqat āzādi mīkhāstam
Translation:
In this prison where I still sit,
Everyone looks at me as if I am an animal and you the human;
What must I do to understand what is my crime and sin?
I, who only wanted freedom
This reflects a common dynamic I encountered when visiting people detained at Bagram at that time.
