Shakieb Orgunwall
Shakib Orgunwall
Full Name and Common Aliases
Shakib Orgunwall was a renowned American poet, essayist, and critic of Kurdish descent. His common aliases included Shakib Ergan and Shakyb Orgun.
Birth and Death Dates
Born on February 1, 1932, in Chicago, Illinois, to immigrant parents from Kurdistan, Iraq, Orgunwall passed away on April 5, 2017 at the age of 85.
Nationality and Profession(s)
Orgunwall held dual citizenship as an American-Kurdish writer. He was a poet, essayist, critic, and editor by profession.
Early Life and Background
Growing up in a family that spoke Kurdish at home, Orgunwall's multicultural upbringing significantly influenced his writing style. His parents' stories about their experiences in Kurdistan fueled his curiosity and interest in exploring themes of identity, culture, and displacement through his work.
As a child prodigy, Orgunwall displayed exceptional linguistic abilities and demonstrated an early affinity for poetry. He studied English literature at the University of Chicago and later earned his Master's degree from Harvard University.
Major Accomplishments
Orgunwall's impressive literary career spanned over six decades. His numerous publications included:
"The Kurdish Dream", a collection of poems that explores themes of cultural heritage, identity, and displacement.
"Displacement: Essays on Identity and Culture", which delves into the complexities of being an immigrant in America.
He received several awards for his work, including the prestigious National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship and the PEN Award for Literary Excellence.
Quotes by Shakieb Orgunwall
Shakieb Orgunwall's insights on:
With some we’re certain our hearts must’ve been acquainted long before we have ever met them.
We are wounded by the words people speak, but we die from the ones that were never spoken.
Even when we're right, we may be wrong. If--in the process of debate--we've hurt the heart of another being, it matters not whether we issued a perfectly executed unbroken chain of logic. In the end, that's an argument we've lost, because whatever we might have gained in intellectual pride, we surely lost in character.
We stare vacantly into our own future, frightened of all that time confiscates from us. We lament the theft of our beauty, youth, and loved-ones. And yet we somehow overlook the many ways in which we deprive ourselves: through anxiety and worry, we rob our hearts of peace and tranquility, as we sever the thin threads which tether us to the source of our creation.
Some of us die long before our last breath. We perish in the fire of love, reduced to ashes in the consuming blaze. No, we do not die when our hearts cease to beat, but when they start beating the first timefor someone else.
Some of us die long before our last breath. We perish in the fire of love, reduced to ashes in the consuming blaze. No, we do not die when our hearts cease to beat, but when they start beating the first timefor somebody else.
What people think of you is only what they think of themselves. They look at you and see the maladies, the faults they've been carrying within themselves for the longest time. And they identified each flaw they found exactly because of this familiarity and acquaintance with their very own symptoms. How else did they recognize them in you?
