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The Taste of Words: An Introduction to Urdu Poetry

Page 17

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

 

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