by Mir
Aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa
Pehle se maraasim na sahi phir bhi kabhi to
Rasm-o-rah-e duniya hi nibhaane ke liye aa
Kis kis ko bataayenge judaai ka sabab hum
Tu mujh se khafaa hai to zamaane ke liye aa
Kuchh to mere pindaar-e muhabbat ka bharam rakh
Tu bhi to kabhi mujh ko manaane ke liye aa
Ek umr se hoon lazzat-e giriyaa se bhi mehroom
Ai raahat-e jaan, mujh ko rulaane ke liye aa
Ab tak dil-e khush-fahm ko tujh se hain ummeeden
Ye aakhri sham-en bhi bujhaane ke liye aa
Be it unpleasantness alone
Be it unpleasantness alone, just to hurt my heart, come
Come if only to reprise your spurning and leave, come
I know our relations are no longer what they were
But to fulfil empty social obligations, won’t you come?
How many times should I explain why we chose to part?
Be angry with me, but for appearances’ sake, do come
For once at least allow your lover one moment of pride
For once let me be angry, and to placate me, come
For an age, I have been deprived of the sweetness of grief
O solace of my life! Even to make me weep, do come
My foolish optimistic heart still harbours hopes of you
This last lamp remains lit, to extinguish it, please do come.
Gulzar
Gulzar (b. 1934) has served Urdu in multiple ways. His film songs have always been infused with the most elaborate of Persianized rhythms that jostle with more Sanskritic patterns to produce the true Ganga–Jamuna effect of Urdu. His metaphors are unique—my favourite is ‘ek baar waqt se, lamha gira kahin’ (‘once a moment fell from time’), invoking a leaf falling from a tree.1 He has also written several non-film poems and short stories in Urdu; his anthology Raavi Paar (Across the Raavi River) is especially notable, as is his recent collection titled Neglected Poems, which elevates the quotidian to poetic heights. In addition, he has served the cause of Urdu poetry through his magnificent 1988 TV serial Mirza Ghalib, which was the entry point to the work of Ghalib for a new generation.
Gulzar has won seven National Awards, twenty Filmfare trophies, the Sahitya Akademi Award and the Padma Bhushan. His song ‘Jai Ho’ won the Oscar for best lyrics in 2009. He currently serves as the chancellor of Assam University, and was awarded the Indira Gandhi Award for National Integration in 2012.
I have included three non-film poems here, and one film-based composition, which in my opinion exemplifies the innovative language he deploys in his verse.2
1Tanhaa
Zindagi yoon hui basar tanhaa
Qaafila saath, aur safar tanhaa
Apne saaye se chaunk jaate hain
Umr guzri hai is qadar tanhaa
Raat bhar bolte hain sannaate
Raat kaate koi kidhar tanhaa
Din guzartaa nahin hai logon mein
Raat hoti nahin basar tanhaa
Hum ne darvaze tak to dekhaa tha
Phir na jaane gaye kidhar tanhaa
Alone
Thus I led my life solitary, alone
The caravan alongside, the journey alone
Startled am I by my own shadow
I have spent my days to this degree alone
All night long, they speak to me
The silences, they never leave me alone
Though I cannot abide people by day
I’m loath to spend nights sans company, alone
I saw them off at my doorway and then
They left, and went on their odyssey alone.
2Aadatan
Aadatan tum ne kar diye vaade
Aadatan hum ne aitbaar kiya
Teri raahon mein baar-haa ruk kar
Hum ne apnaa hi intezaar kiya
Ab na maangenge zindagi yaarab
Ye gunaah hum ne ek baar kiya
Sheer habit
Out of sheer habit, you made a promise
And similarly, habitually, I trusted you
Tarrying continually by your paths
I kept on awaiting myself, I guess
Never again will I seek life, O Lord
I have made this mistake once; that is enough.
3Is mod se jaate hain
Is mod se jaate hain
Kuchh sust-qadam raste, kuchh tez-qadam raahen
Patthar ki haveli ko, sheeshe ke gharaundon mein
Tinkon ke nasheman tak, is mod se jaate hain
Aandhi ki tarah ud kar, ek raah guzarti hai
Sharmaati hui koyi qadmon se utarti hai
In reshmi raahon mein, ek raah to woh hogi
Tum tak jo pahunchti hai
Is mod se jaati hai
Ek door se aati hai, paas aake palat-ti hai
Ek raah akeli si, rukti hai na chalti hai
Ye soch ke baithhi hoon, ek raah to woh hogi
Tum tak jo pahunchti hai
Is mod se jaati hai
From this bend in the road
From this bend in the road
Go some slow-paced paths
And some fast highways
To the stone palace, the glasshouse and the nest of little debris
All paths go from this bend.
One path flies along like a hurricane
Another moves with shy footsteps
On these velvet roads, there must be at least one path
That reaches you; that too starts from this bend.
One path comes from really far away, and turns just as it reaches here
And one path, alone, neither stops nor moves
And I sit here, thinking, there must be at least one path
That reaches you
That too starts from this bend in the road.
4Makaan ki oopri manzil pe ab koi nahin rehta
Makaan ki oopri manzil pe ab koi nahin rehta
Vo kamre band hain kab se
Vo chaubi seedhiyaan un tak pahunchti thhin
Vo ab oopar nahin jaatin
Makaan ki oopri manzil pe ab koi nahin rehta
Vahaan kamron mein itna yaad hai mujh ko
Khilone ek purani tokri mein bhar ke rakhe the
Bahut se to uthhane phenkne rakhne mein choor ho gaye
Vahaan ek balcony bhi thhi
Jahaan ek beth ka jhoola latakta thha
Mera ek dost thha tota
Vo roz aata thha, us ko hari mirchi khilaata thha
Usi ke saamne chhat thhi
Jahaan ek mor baitha aasmaan pe raat bhar
Meethe sitaare chugta rehta thha
Mere bachhon ne vo dekha nahi
Vo neeche ki manzil pe rehte hain
Jahaan par piano rakha hai
Purane Parsi style ka
(Fraser se khareeda thha)
Magar kuchh besuri aavaazen karta hai
Ke us ki reeds saari hil gayi hain
Suron par doosre sur chhad gaye hain
Usi manzil pe ek pushtaini baithak thhi
Jahaan purkhon ki tasveeren latakti rehti theen
Main seedha karta thha, havaa phir tedha kar jaati
Bahu ko moochhon vale saare purkhe cliché lagte the
Mere bachhon ne aakhir un ko keelon se utaara
Purane newspaper mein unhe mehfooz kar ke rakh diya thha
Mera ek bhaanja le jaata hai filmon mein kabhi
Set par lagaata hai
Kiraya milta hai un se
Meri manzil pe mere saamne mehmaan-khaana hai
Mere potay kabhi Amreeka se aayen to rukte hain
Alag size mein aate hain vo jitni baar aate hain
Khud
a jaane vohi aate hain ya har baar koi doosra aata hai
Vo ek kamra jo peeche ki taraf band hai
Jahaan batti nahin jalti
Vahaan ek rosary rakhi hai, vo us se mehakta hai
Vahaan vo dayi rehti thhi
Jis ne teen bachhon ko bada karne mein
Apni umr de di thhi
Mari to main ne dafnaaya nahin
Mehfooz kar ke rakh diya us ko
Aur us ke baad, ek do seedhiyan hain
Neeche tehkhaane mein jaati hai
Jahaan khamoshi raushan hai
Sukoon soya hua hai
Bas itni si pehloo mein jagah rakh kar
Ke jab main seedhiyon se neechen aaoon
To usi ke pehloon mein baazoo pe sar rakh kar
Gale lag jaaoon
So jaaoon
Makaan ki oopri manzil pe ab koi nahin rehta
No one lives on the top floor of the house any more
No one lives on the top floor of the house any more
Those rooms have long been shut
The wooden staircase that reached them
Has decayed.
No one lives on the top floor of the house any more
In those rooms, I do remember,
Was an old basket full of toys
Many must be crushed by now in the constant moving and shifting.
There was a balcony there
Where a wicker-swing swung,
A parrot friend of mine
Used to swoop down and I would feed it a green chilli
And there was the rooftop, right there
Where a peacock used to sit
And eat sweet stars from the sky all night long.
My children never saw all that
They used to live on the lower level
Where there used to be a piano
Old Parsi style
(We had bought it from Fraser’s)
But now it makes strange sounds
For all its reeds are now shaken up
And on old tunes, some new tunes have mounted.
On that level, there was an old ceremonial drawing room
Where the photos of the ancestors used to hang
I used to straighten them out, only for the wind to make them crooked again
My daughter-in-law always found the mustachioed ancestors to be clichés
My children finally took those pictures down from those nails
And wrapped them in old newspapers
My nephew sometimes takes them to movie sets
Rents them out for money.
On my floor, there is a guest-room in front of mine
When my grandchildren visit from America, they stay there
Every time they come, they are a different size
God knows if the same children come, or if there are different ones every time!
There is a room at the back, closed
No light shines there
It has a rosary, which exudes fragrance
A nanny used to live there
Who, while raising my three children,
Gave away her whole life
When she died, I did not bury her
But kept her safe there.
And then, there are a few stairs
That descend into a basement
Silence shines there
And peace is asleep.
With just enough room
That when I descend those stairs
I should find room to nestle into it
Embrace it
And fall asleep.
No one lives on the top floor of the house any more.
Shahryar
Akhlaq Muhammad Khan Shahryar (1936–2012) is best known in the popular realm for his film songs in the 1981 movie Umrao Jaan, which in my opinion is a matter of repute, given their poetic quality. However, he must also be celebrated as an academic and a philosopher, who headed the Urdu Department at the Aligarh Muslim University and edited Sher-o-Hikmat (Poetry and Philosophy), a prestigious Urdu journal. He published several books of poetry, and is the only Urdu poet to have won both the Sahitya Akademi Award (1987) and the Jnanpith Award (2008). His death in February 2012 robbed Urdu literature of a classical talent, one whose deep philosophical insights never compromised the poetic quality of his nazms.1
I have translated two of his poems here, both of which made their way into the film world. The first, ‘Seene mein jalan’, is a marvellous poetic rendition of urban anomie, and is featured in the 1978 movie Gaman. It was set to music beautifully by Jaidev and sung by Suresh Wadkar. The second ghazal was immortalized in Umrao Jaan, wonderfully rendered by Asha Bhonsle and aided by Khayyam’s music.
1Seene mein jalan
Seene mein jalan, aankhon mein toofan sa kyon hai
Is shahr mein har shakhs pareshaan sa kyon hai
Dil hai to dhadakne ka bahaana koi dhoonde
Patthar ki tarah behis-o-bejaan sa kyon hai
Tanhaai ki ye kaun si manzil hai rafeeqo
Taa hadd-e nazar ek bayaaban sa kyon hai
Hum ne to koi baat nikaali nahin gham ki
Vo zood pashemaan pashemaan sa kyon hai
Kya koi nayi baat nazar aati hai hum mein
Aaina hamen dekh ke hairaan sa kyon hai
Heart afire
Why is the heart aflame, why do eyes harbour a storm?
Why does everyone in this city appear forlorn?
If there be a heart, it should seek reasons to beat on
Why is it so lifeless and unfeeling like a stone?
What is this stage of empty solitude, my dear friend?
Why do my eyes see naught but a desert end to end?
I hadn’t brought up an issue melancholy or sad
Why does that quick repenter appear to feel bad?
My face reflects something strange, perhaps a hurt
that’s new?
For the mirror appears surprised at my visage too.
2In aankhon ki masti
In aankhon ki masti ke mastaane hazaaron hain
In aankhon se vaabastaa afasaane hazaaron hain
Ek tum hi nahin tanhaa ulfat mein meri rusvaa
Is shahr mein tum jaise deevane hazaaron hain
Ek sirf hami mai ko aankhon se pilaate hain
Kehne ko to duniyaa mein maikhaane hazaaron hain
Is sham-e farozan ko aandhi se daraate ho
Is sham-e farozan ke parvaane hazaaron hain
These fanciful eyes
These eyes have caught the fancy of dreamers’ dreams a thousand times
Yes, these eyes have been linked with stories and themes a thousand times
It is not you alone who has been destroyed by this lost love
My beauty has foiled many a lover’s schemes a thousand times
I am that unique cupbearer who serves wine by the eyeful
This unique tavern drives drinkers to extremes a thousand times
How dare you try and scare this flame with your talk of the tempest
This flame has won suicidal moths’ last esteems a thousand times.
Asif Raza
Chand pe jaa kar raushan raushan patthar lane waale log
Kitne thande thande hain ye aag churaane wale log
They who go to the moon, and bring back bright, shiny stones
How cold indeed are these people of the fire-stealer clan!1
Asif Raza (b. 1942) comes from a family of poets. His father, Manzoor Hussain Shore, was a part of Aligarh’s golden generation, and a respected poet of the progressive tradition. Raza, however, inhabits a different aesthetic, more akin to French symbolists like Baudelaire and the surrealists, and exhibits hints of German existentialist influences, particula
rly from Friedrich Nietzsche and Karl Jaspers. He taught sociology in the United States; but after the runaway success of his 2008 collection of poems Bujhe Rangon ki Raunaq (The Splendour of Faded Colours) and his recent retirement, his poetry has enjoyed a renaissance of sorts and he is at work on a new collection.
The poem I have translated here reflects the strong European and surrealist influence in Raza’s poetry, where on a coral island (a symbol of transcendental beauty rather than a quotidian existence), seven beautiful women live trapped, watching the crashing waves mock their confinement, as they try to lure sailors to the island. But the mystery of the island and the impossible beauty of the seven sisters paradoxically strike terror in the heart of the pusillanimous sailors who hear them, rather than evoking desire, thus accentuating the disjuncture between the two worlds. The non-linear construction of the poem lends itself to multiple interpretations, each one as disquieting as the previous.
Saat behnen
Ek marjaani jazeere par, areez
Saat behnen, shabkharaami ki mareez
Subah-dam, khwaab-e shabaana ke ta-aaqub mein davaan
Ek sang-e surkh ko apna banaa kar deedban
Jaaiza pur-shauq leti hain khalaa-e bahr ka
Phailta hai jhaag sahil par palat-ti lehr k
Qad kasheeda saat behnon ke sunehre baal hain
Kapkapaate baakira lab laal hain
Tegh jaisa abruon ka un ke mehraabi hai kham
Mauj-zan seenon mein ek toofan hai na-mukhtatum
Hadd-e faasil khenchti dehleez-e aab
Eestaada dekhti rehti hain khwaab
Kaundti hain in ki aankhon mein jawaahar ki chamak
Shaahraah-e aab lekin be-lachak
Dekhti hain vo ke na aabaad hai, tasveer-e yaas
Door uftaada ufaq par baadbaan ka iltebaas!
Muthiyon se un ke girte hain samandar ke aqeeq
Qa’ar leta hai jinhe vaapas, ameeq
Barbat-e zarreen utha kar haft taar
Chhedti hain vo tilaai shaahkar
Goonjti un ki sawaahil par sada sat-sargami