By Jimmy Bangash As I sit here in London On the cusp of the New Year; My heart walks the streets of Iran. For women have woken As a girl waves her hijab; Casting out the sound of Adhan. You cannot control them, No clergy can own them; This marks the death of Imams. Their bodies were plundered Wrapped up and covered; All in the name of Quran. Replace chador and virginity, With lipstick and liberty; Even though you think it’s Haram. Their voice is your death knell…