Hazaron Khawaishen Aisi
Page 6
A poet, a kind patron of poets, an aesthete and a man of religious leaning, Zafar was a disciple of Shah Naseer, Sheikh Ibrahim Zauq and Mirza Ghalib. For him, composing poetry was cultivating a difficult art that called for perseverance and devotion. This also explains his choice for multi-syllabic lines and difficult qaafia and radeef. He is also remarkable for the local colour he added to his poetry and his sensitivity towards the music that helped him modulate his tone of voice. Zafar wrote the characteristic poetry of love and despair in his early writing phase and of more serious concerns like the failings of the human destiny during his exile. Though some Urdu critics did not view his poetry favourably, but he also emerged as a sensitive commentator on the fall of the Mughal Empire. Zafar had compiled four divaans before 1857 though much was lost during the turbulent events of that year.
1
Baat karni mujhe mushkil kabhi aisi to na thi
Ab hai jaisi teri mehfil kabhi aisi to na thi
Le gaya chheen ke yoon kaun tera sabr-o-qaraar
Beqaraari tujhe ai dil kabhi aisi to na thi
Un ki aankhon ne Khuda jaane kiya kya jaadoo
Ke tabeeyat meri maayil kabhi aisi to na thi
Ab ke jo raah-e mohabbat mein uthhaai takleef
Sakht hoti hamein manzil kabhi aisi to na thi
Paai khubaan koee zindaan mein naya hai majnoon
Aaee aawaaz-e salaasil kabhi aisi to na thi
Chashm-e qaatil meri dushman thi hamesha lekin
Jaisi ab ho gaee qaatil kabhi aisi to na thi
Aks-e rukhsaar ne kis ke hai tujhe chamkaaya
Taab tujh mein mah-e kaamil kabhi aisi to na thi
Nigah-i yaar ko ab kyun hai taghaaful ai dil
Wo tere haal se ghaafil kabhi aisi to na thi
Kya sabab tu jo bigadtaa hai Zafar pe har baar
Khoo teri hoor shamaayil kabhi aisi to na thi
1
It was never so very hard to speak, but now
Your assembly was never so bleak, but now
Who robbed you of your patience, my poor heart?
Never so restless and ever so meek, but now
What magic in her glance, I never knew!
I would so much crave for and seek, but now
So hard this time to bear the pangs of love
My goal was never so oblique, but now
There in the prison house, a wild lover
Whose chains did never so shriek, but now
Love’s glances torment me, as they always do
Never these torments at such a peak, but now
Whose glowing face brightens your face, O moon!
Your glow was never so unique, but now
Why doesn’t my love look at me, my heart!
My love was never so bleak, but now
But why such anger with Zafar each time
Such revenge, you would never wreak, but now
2
Hum to chalte hain lo Khuda Haafiz
Butkadaa ke buto Khuda Haafiz
Kar chuke tum naseehatein hum ko
Jaao bus naaseho Khuda Haafiz
Aaj kuchh aur tarha per un ki
Sunte hain guftugoo Khuda Haafiz
Gar yahi hai hamesha zakhm pe zakhm
Dil ke chaara garo Khuda Haafiz
Aaj hai kuchh ziyaada betaabi
Dil-e betaab ko Khuda Haafiz
Kyun hifaazat hum aur ki dhoondein
Har nafas jab ke ho Khuda Haafiz
Chaahe rukhsat ho raah-e ishq mein ‘aql
Ai Zafar jaane do Khuda Haafiz
2
Goodbye friends, I’m set to go, Khuda Haafiz
All my idols in a row, Khuda Hafiz
Enough of counsels! My dear counsellors!
Just leave me now, let me go, Khuda Haafiz
In a different tone and tenor, my friends
I can now hear his words flow, Khuda Haafiz
Wound after wound, one by one, dear healers
You’ve kept my heart all aglow, Khuda Haafiz
Today, my impatience far exceeds my pain
It keeps my poor heart on toe, Khuda Haafiz
What protection from anyone now, my friend
When to me, my own breaths blow, Khuda Haafiz
If reason can be so lost to love, Zafar
Why care then, let it be so, Khuda Haafiz
11
Sheikh Imam Bakhsh Nasikh
Sheikh Imam Bakhsh Nasikh (1776–1838) was born in Faizabad and later travelled to Lucknow. He had his education in Arabic and Persian. On account of his keen poetic sensibility and sound training in rhetoric, he had his disciples among the nobility. A man of integrity, he did not, however, vie for reaping any benefits from them. In fact, he became a victim of serious political bickering and left Lucknow for Allahabad.
Nasikh earned his reputation not as a great poet but as a great craftsman of poetry. He deliberated upon language, syntax and the poetic devices, which he employed to turn a routine composition into a work of art. Literary circles in Delhi came to hear of his worth, and considered him worth emulating. He played a significant role in secularizing Urdu while respecting the classical norms of syntax and style. In doing this, he expanded the frontiers of Urdu vocabulary, adopted a non-puritanical approach, and modernized it. His individuality lies in imparting an Indo-Persian veneer to his verse. This also explains his kinship with poets like Mirza Mohammad Rafi Sauda, Mir Taqi Mir and Khwaja Mir Dard, who also deliberated upon the nature and function of language and the modes of poetic expression. Not a poet of great metaphysical depth, Nasikh’s merit lies in his technical virtuosity, linguistic finesse and his ability to control and modulate intricate lines and unusual rhythms. These qualities are well borne out by his several divaans.
1
Sanam koocha tera hai aur main hoon
Ye zindaan-e daghaa hai aur main hoon
Yehi kehtaa hai jalwa mere but kaa
Ke ik zaat-e Khuda hai aur main hoon
Idhar aane mein hai kis se tujhe sharm
Faqat ik gham tera hai aur main hoon
Kare jo har qadam per ek naala
Zamaane mein daraa hai aur main hoon
Teri deewaar se aati hai aawaaz
Ke ek baal-e huma hai aur main hoon
Na ho kuchh aarzoo mujh ko khudaaya
Yehi har dam dua hai aur main hoon
Kiya darbaan ne sang-e aastaana
Dar-e daulat saraa hai aur main hoon
Gaya wo chhod kar raste mein mujh ko
Ab us ka naqsh-e paa hai aur main hoon
Zamaane ke sitam se roz Nasikh
Naee ek Karbala hai aur main hoon
1
My love, this is your lane and this is me
This prison house of deceit and this is me
This is what my love’s splendour tells me now:
There is the God above; here this is me
What makes you shy of coming to me, Love?
This is love’s pain with me and this is me
It moans at each step in life, as it does
That is the time’s bell tolling and this is me
From your walls, there often comes a clear call
There’s the phoenix hair there and here this is me
Let me never nurse a desire, my God, never
That is my perpetual prayer and this is me
The guard of love’s abode turned me to a doorstep
This is my own love’s threshold and this is me
She left me alone on the way forever
These are her footprints for me and this is me
The world has been unkind each day, Nasikh
This is a new Karbala and this is me
2
Aati jaati hai jaa ba jaa badli
Saaqiya jald aa hawaa badli
Aage the gard ab hai boo-i saman
Too ne poshak ai sabaa badli
Barg-e tar aai barg-e khushk gire
Har shajar ne bhi ab qabaa badli
Rang chehre ke yaan badal
ne lage
Aankh teri jahaan zaraa badli
Rind maikhwaar jab pukarte hain
Door se deti hai sadaa badli
2
Here and there blow the clouds with the change of wind
My dear Saqi, come on fast, it’s the change of wind
You were dust then; you are blossom’s fragrance now
Wind! You have changed your garb with the change of wind
New leaves may show up now, while old ones may fall
May the bough change her garb with the change of wind
All the well-known faces changed with the change of time
Only when your eyes turned with the change of wind
Only when the drunken vagabonds give a shout
The clouds echo from afar with the change of wind
12
Khwaja Haider Ali Atish
Khwaja Haider Ali Atish (1777–1847), who hailed from a Sufi family of Delhi, was born in Faizabad and travelled to nearby Lucknow, the goal of all literary dilettantes and masters. Neither associated with a durbaar or the court of the nobles, nor influenced by the privileged and the powerful, Atish enjoyed his self-respect and courage of conviction. True to his spirit, he refused to be carried away by the splendour of people in high places, and preferred to lead the life of a liberal Sufi and devote himself to the vocation of poetry.
Atish was a disciple of Sheikh Ghulam Ali Hamadani Mus’hafi. Striking a balance between the odds and the evens, he was now spontaneous, now remote; now restrained, now sentimental; now ratiocinative, now mystical. He was extremely resourceful with the Urdu idiom and played upon the softness of its tone. His sincere sentiments and robust command over language blended well to create a condition of lasting appeal. Even while he maintained a uniform level of expression, he turned wordy and flamboyant at times, but remained simple and eminently accessible. Atish chose to philosophize on the pleasures of flesh and delve deeper to express the ecstatic moments of union. In his essential literary make-up, he drew upon his healthy attitude towards life and art to bring life to bear upon art, and art on life. Atish has left behind two divaans that exemplify his independent and proud poetic stance.
1
Sun to sahi jahaan mein hai tera fasaana kyaa
Kehti hai tujh se khalq-e Khuda ghaibaana kyaa
Zair-e zameen aata hai jo gul so zarbakaf
Qaroon ne raaste mein lutaaya khazana kyaa
Udtaa hai shauq-e raahat-e manzil se asp-e ‘umr
Mahmaiz kahte hainge kise taazyaana kyaa
Zeena saba ka dhoondti hai apni musht-e khaak
Baam-e baland yaar ka hai aastaana kyaa
Chaaron taraf se soorat-e jaanan ho jalwagar
Dil saaf ho tera to hai aaeena khaana kyaa
Tabl-o alam hi paas hai apne na mulk-o-maal
Hum se khilaaf ho ke karega zamaana kyaa
Aati hai kis tarah se meri qabz-e rooh ko
Dekhoon to maut dhoond rahi hai bahaana kyaa
Hota hai zard sun ke jo naraaz muddaee
Rustam ki daastaan hai hamaaraa fasaana kyaa
Tirchhi nazar se taair-e dil ho chuka shikaar
Jab teer kaj pade to udegaa nishaana kyaa
Yoon muddaee hasad se na de daad to na de
Atish ghazal ye too ne kahi aashiqaana kyaa
1
Just see what tale the world has this day for me
Just hear what this creation has to say for me
Such rich blossoms within the soil! They are in hand
What treasures Qaroon frittered, that’s no array for me
Life’s stallion flies high to kiss the joys of arrival
What’s a spur! What’s a whip! What’s there to say for me
My body’s soil wants to climb the stairs of wind
To reach my love’s station that’s so far away for me
Let there be nothing around, only my love’s face
My heart mirrors me, what is the mirror’s array for me?
I have no armours, no flags; I have none to flaunt
What can the world do if it goes astray for me?
Let me see if she may rob me of my life now
Let me also see if death can find a way for me
The complainant goes pale, dry, dull and desolate
Is Rustum’s story but only a replay for me?
A twisted look has hit the heart’s delicate bird
With awry arrow amiss, nothing to say for me
Who cares if the rivals don’t say a word of praise
What a ghazal of love Atish wrote today for me
2
Tasawwur se kisee ke main ne kee hai guftugoo barson
Rahi hai ek tasweer-e khayaali ru-baroo barson
Hua mehmaan aa kar raat bhar wo shama ru barson
Rahaa raushan mere ghar ka chiraagh-e aarzoo barson
Chaman mein jaa ke bhoole se main khasta dil karaahaa tha
Kiya ki gul se bulbul shikwa-i dard-e guloo barson
Baraabar jaan ke rakkha hai us ko marte marte tak
Hamaari qabr per roya karegi aarzoo barson
Diya hai hukm jab peer-e mughan ne sajda-i khum ka
Kiya hai jab sharaab-e naab se hum ne wuzoo barson
Agar main khaak bhi hoonga to Atish gard-e baad aasa
Rakhegi mujh ko sargashta kisee ki justujoo barson
2
I have chatted with her fine thoughts for years
An imagined one I have sought for, for years
She lived many a night with me for years
I kept my yearning so well-wrought for years
In despair, I moaned only once in the garden
To the buds, the bulbul moaned her lot for years
I have to keep my longing close to heart till I die
To shed them on my grave, tears are sought for years
I could bow down to the wine jar, the priest ruled, only if
Pure wine ablution, I did and sought for years
If I be dust, I shall be one with the wind, Atish
A quest for someone will keep me distraught for years
13
Asadullah Khan Ghalib
Asadullah Khan Ghalib (1797–1869), hailing from the central Asian family of Aibuk Turks, was born in Agra. His grandfather had migrated to India during the reign of Shah Alam II and joined the army, which his sons also did after him. After his father was killed in a battle in Alwar, Ghalib had to live a life of want and longing. Inheriting little from his family, he made plea after plea with the British government for his own pension for over sixteen years but only to little avail. Grants in appreciation from the last Mughal emperor and the Nawab of Rampur kept him going somehow. He witnessed the downfall of the Mughal Empire and the Revolt of 1857, which he frankly recorded in his poetry and prose. He earned three coveted titles from Bahadur Shah Zafar II, although he was not very well appreciated during his lifetime.
Ghalib’s literary identities are many. He was an accomplished poet and a prose writer, an epistolarian and a diarist, a lexicographer and a polemist, a critic and a historian, and above all, an arbiter of taste. He had compiled his Urdu divaan by the age of twenty-five. By this time, he had also developed a keen interest in Persian writing, of which his Persian divaan is a rich testimony. He enriched the literary traditions of Urdu and Persian with his unique improvisations in form and technique. Ghalib’s wit remains unparalleled and his diction refreshingly original. While Ghalib recorded his pain in his inimitable letters in no uncertain terms, his diary called Dustumboo, detailing the events of 1857, is a cautious and political act of writing. Other works include his Urdu divaan, Mehr-e Neem Roze, a historical narrative; Panj Aahang, a collection of miscellaneous writings; Qat-i Burhaan, a criticism of Persian lexicon; and Tegh-i Tez, a work of literary criticism. Ghalib remains, till this day, the most contemporaneous of all the literary masters in Urdu and in Persian.
1
Dil-e naadaan tujhe hua kya hai
Aakhir is dard ki dawaa kya hai
> Hum hain mushtaaq aur wo bezaar
Ya Ilahi ye maajraa kya hai
Main bhi munh mein zabaan rakhtaa hoon
Kaash poochho ke mudd’aa kya hai
Jab ke tujh bin nahi koee maujood
Phir ye hungaama ay Khuda kya hai
Ye pari chehra log kaise hain
Ushwa-o ghamza-o adaa kya hai
Shikan-e zulf-e ambarein kyun hai
Nigah-e chashm-e surma saa kya hai
Sabza-o gul kahaan se aai hain
Abr kya cheez hai hawaa kya hai
Hum ko un se wafaa ki hai ummeed
Jo naheen jaanate wafaa kya hai
1
My naive heart, what ails you, what?
What’s the cure for this ache, what?
I pine for her; she’s tired of me
My God! What’s the matter, what?
I too have a tongue in my mouth
Wish you asked: what matters, what?
There is none around but you
What then is this hubbub, what?
Who are these fairy-faced, who?
What dainty, mild manners, what?
Such curls in scented locks, why?
What glance, collyrium-eyes, what?
Where from the meadows, blossoms?
What is that cloud, this wind, what?
I want love, loyalty from one
For whom love and loyalty, what?
Haan bhalaa kar tera bhalaa hoga
Aur darwesh ki sadaa kya hai
Jaan tum per nisaar kartaa hoon
Main naheen jaantaa du’aa kya hai
Main ne maanaa ke kuchh naheen Ghalib
Muft haath aai to buraa kya hai
‘Do good, get good from others’
What else is dervish-chant, what?
I simply lay this life for you
I know not what prayer, what?
I know, Ghalib is no good
What if he comes for free, what?
2
Aah ko chaahiye ik umr asar hote tak
Kaun jeeta hai teri zulf ke sar hote tak
Daam-e har mauj mein hai halqa-i sad kaam-e nahang
Dekhein kya guzre hai qatre pe gohar hote tak
Aashiqi sabr talab aur tamannaa betaab
Dil ka kya rang karoon khoon-e jigar hote tak
Hum ne maana ke taghaaful na karoge lekin
Khaak ho jaaenge hum tum ko khabar hote tak
Partaw-e khur se hai shabnam ko fanaa ki taaleem