1
Jee dhoondta hai ghar koee dono jahaan se door
Is aap ki zameen se alag aasmaan se door
Shaayad main dar khure nigah-e garm bhi naheen
Bijlee tadap rahi hai meri aashiyaan se door
Wo poochte hain aur koee deta naheen jawaab
Kis ki wafaa hai dastaras-e imtihaan se door
Aankhein churaa ke aap ne afsaana kar diya
Jo haal tha zubaan se qareeb aur bayaan se door
Hai man‘a raah-e ishq mein dair-o haram ka hosh
Yaani kahaan se paas hai manzil kahaan se door
Ta arz-e shauq mein na rahe bandagee ki laag
Ek sajda chaahta hoon tere aastaan se door
Fani Dakan mein aa ke ye uqda khulaa ke hum
Hindostaan mein rahte hain Hindostaan se door
1
I look for a home away from both the worlds, far away
Away from this earth of yours, from the skies, far away
I am not the favoured one, not even of the fiery looks
The lightening shows, away from my abode, so very far away
No one gives an answer; he only keeps on asking all
Whose love defies a test, whose love hides, so far away
When you turned your eyes, you helped a story go afloat
That was a tale close to tongue but from telling, far away
In love, who cares where the temple is, where the mosque
Does it matter if the goal is near, or at distant, far away
So that there is no trace of my devotion in my imploring
I only wish I could bow my head, from your abode, far away
Fani! It was only in the far off Deccan, I got to know
I lived in Hindostaan but from Hindostaan, far away
2
Har saans ke saath jaa rahaa hoon
Main tere qareeb aa rahaa hoon
Ye dil mein karaahne lagaa kaun
Ro ro ke kise rulaa rahaa hoon
Ab ‘ishq ko beneqaab kar ke
Main husn ko aazmaa rahaa hoon
Asraar-e jamaal khul rahe hain
hastee ka suraagh paa rahaa hoon
Tanhaa-i sham-e ghum ke dar se
Kuchh un se jawaab paa rahaa hoon
Lazzat kashe-e aarzoo hoon Fani
Danista fareb khaa rahaa hoon
2
I pass away with every passing breath
I reach you with every passing breath
Who moans within my heart, who
With my cries, I make the other cry too
Unveiling the love at last
I test my own love at last
The secrets of beauty unravel
Through the routes of being I travel
I fear the lonesomeness of painful nights
I get her answers for those baleful nights
Fani, I enjoy when I crave
What deceptions I do brave!
21
Asghar Gondawi
Asghar Gondawi (1884–1936) is the nome de plume of Asghar Hussain who was born in Gorakhpur. As he hailed from a family of limited economic means, he could not get conventional education but made personal efforts to study Urdu, Arabic, Persian and English. He worked for Urdu Markaz, the centre for Urdu writers and Urdu lovers in Lahore, but could not continue there for long. Later, he joined Tej Bahadur Sapru’s Hindustani Press in Allahabad as an editor.
Asghar had a philosophical disposition which clearly marks the major part of his poetry. In his earlier phase, he wrote under the influence of Sufi poets. However, later, he acquired a personal tone and tenor which no other poet of mystical nature could achieve after him. His poetry is characterized by a soft, melancholic voice that highlighted his ability to think metaphysically and render his thoughts with poetic credibility. Asghar was not a prolific poet, as he was more preoccupied with the idea of artistic merit which was manifested in his ability to rethink the stock romantic metaphors and appropriate them in both romantic and spiritualist ghazals. The thematic richness and artistic control of his voice are discernible in his collections, Nishat-e Rooh and Surood-e Zindagi.
1
Tamaam daftar-e hikmat ulat gaya hoon mein
Magar khulaa na abhi tak kahaan hoon, kya hoon main
Ye mujh se poochhiye kya guftugoo mein lazzat hai
Fiza-i dehr mein tehleel ho gaya hoon main
Kabhi khayaal ke hai khwaab aalam-e hastee
Zameer mein abhi fitrat ke, so raha hoon main
Kabhi ye fakhr ke aalam mein aks hai meraa
Khud apnaa tarz-e nazar hai ke dekhta hoon main
Hayaat-o maut bhi adnaa si ek kadi meri
Azal se le ke abad tak wo silsila hoon main
Nawaa-i raaz ka seene mein khoon hotaa hai
Sitam hai, lafz paraston mein ghir gaya hoon main
Na koee naam hai mera, na koee soorat hai
Kuchh is tarah hama tan deed ho gaya hoon main
Tera jamaal hai, tera khayaal hai, too hai
Mujhe ye fursat-e kaawish kahaan ke kya hoon main
1
I’ve ransacked the seas of wisdom, don’t know where I am
I don’t know even now: who I am, where I am
Ask me what’s pleasure talking, I’ll tell you what:
That’s melting in timeless time, that’s being where I am
This state of being is only a dream, I think at times
Slumbering long in nature’s conscience, that’s where I am
That the world bears my image, often makes me proud
That’s how I see myself, that’s indeed where I am
Life and death, the two links in the long chain of life
And I in a flux from end to end, that’s where I am
My secret voices meet their death, buried in the breast
I’m trapped among wordsmiths! It’s a pity, where I am
Neither a name, nor a face; I have none of mine
All askance, body and soul, that’s what and where I am
Your elegance, your thought, your being: that’s all I know
Not a while to know more: who I am, where I am
2
Bistar-e khaak pe baithha hoon na masti hai, na hosh
Zarre sab saakit-o saamit hain, sitaare khaamosh
Nazar aati hai mazaahir mein meri shakl mujhe
Fitrat aaeena badast aur main hairaan-o khamosh
Tarjumaani ki mujhe aaj ijaazat de de
Shajar-e toor hai saakit, lab-e Mansoor khamosh
Partaw-e mehr hi zauq-e rum-o bedaari de
Bistar-e gul pe hai ek qatra-i shabnam khaamosh
2
I’m in the earth’s cradle, neither in senses nor in elation
Each particle of dust at rest, each star silent
I can see my face in countless images around
Nature holds a mirror to me; I’m stunned and silent
Let me tell you the truth today, let me tell you now:
Toor’s branch is all still, Mansoor’s lips are all silent
Love’s face may alone revive the life of my senses
On the bed of blossoms, lies a drop of dew silent
22
Yaas Yagana Changezi
Yaas Yagana Changezi (1884–1956), whose ancestors had migrated from Iran and joined the Mughal army, was born in Azimabad, now Patna, and named Mirza Wajid Hussain. He also wrote under the pen name of ‘Yaas’ (despair) before choosing ‘Yagana’ (matchless) as his nom de plume. This choice for a change of name reflected his independent and defiant nature. Shad Azimabadi, another major poet who lived in Azimabad, pruned his taste and helped him hone his talent. Yagana shifted to Calcutta and got married there, but chose to find a new home in Lucknow, only to discover to his utter despair that the place was unkind to him. As he was egotistical, uncompromising and unable to control his brusque manners and speech, he could not strike a chord with the poets there. He caused controversies and came to be identified as a highly nonconformist, controversial and provocativ
e poet, who found faults even with Asadulla Khan Ghalib and Mohammed Iqbal. He even went to the extent of making controversial statements about religious belief and was once attacked by a mob.
Quite in keeping with his personality, Yagana’s tone in his poetry was direct, curt and stinging but he was sober and dignified in his renditions despite his iconoclasm. More than writing about the myriad manifestations of love, he wrote about the manifestations of life in his poetry. He developed a brave and bold attitude towards life and the dignity of man even while he engaged with the oddities of life uncompromisingly. A certain sense of scepticism that took over him did not allow him to achieve a broader philosophical stance in his poetry. Yagana was essentially an interrogator of both life and art, who lived and survived in his individual splendour. Yagana’s works are collected in Nashtar-e Yas, Taraana, Aayaat-e Wijdaani and Ganjeena.
1
Kaargaah-e dunya mein neesti bhi hasti hai
Ek taraf ujadti hai aik samt basti hai
Bedilon ki hasti kya jeete hain na marte hain
Khwab hai na bedaari hosh hai na masti hai
Kya bataoon kya hoom main qudrat-e Khuda hoon main
Meri khud parasti bhi ‘ain haq parasti hai
Keemiya-i dil kya hai khaak hai magar kaisi
Lijiye to mehngi hai bechiye to sasti hai
Khizr-e manzil apna hoon apni raah chalta hoon
Mere haal per dunya kya samajh ke hansti hai
Kya kahoon safar apna khatm kyun naheen hota
Fikr ki balandi ya hausle ki pasti hai
Husn-e betamaasha ki dhoom kya muamma hai
Kaan bhi hain namahram aankh bhi tarasti hai
Chitwanon se milta hai kuchh suragh baatin ka
Chaal se to kafir per saadagi barasti hai
Tark-e lazzat-e dunya kijiye to kis dil se
Zauq-e paarsaayi kya faiz-e tang dastee hai
Deedani hai Yaas apne ranj-o-ghum ki tughyaani
Jhoom jhoom kar kya kya ye ghata barasti hai
1
The ruins of the world are life’s share
Some perish here, some prosper there
The heartless ones neither live nor die
Nor drink, nor sink, nor sing, nor sigh
I’m God’s miracle, no more, no less
I love Him, I love myself no less
Heart’s alchemy, what worth, what mould
Costly if bought, cheap if sold
My own guide, I walk my way to goal
None should laugh at me, none should cajole
What’s the matter, why don’t I arrive?
Do I sink low, or never strive?
What a puzzle is that naive love indeed!
Ears await her words, eyes askance indeed
The face tells what surely lies inside
Though her manners don’t at all abide
How can one renounce this world’s pleasures?
Is piety a gift of living in measures
My pain’s ebb and flow worth a watch, Yaas
The dark clouds bring in torrents, alas!
2
Kis ki aawaaz kaan mein aaee
Door ki baat dhyaan mein aaee
Aap aate rahe bulaate rahe
Aane waali ik aan mein aaee
Ye kinaara chalaa ke naao chali
Kahiye kya baat dhyaan mein aaee
‘Ilm kya ‘ilm ki haqeeqat kyaa
Jaisi jis ke gumaan mein aaee
Aankh neechi huee arey ye kyaa
Yoon gharaz darmiyaan mein aaee
Main payamber naheen Yagana sahi
Is se kyaa kasr shaan mein aaee
2
Whose voice? What did I hear?
A distant thought brought me cheer
All entreating but only a trash
One meant to come, came in a flash
Is the bank moving, or is it the boat?
Say, what thought is now afloat?
What is knowledge, what is its worth?
We had aplenty, there was no dearth
Your eyes downcast, what’s the matter?
A selfish motive, enough to shatter
I’m only Yagana, not God’s envoy
But why should that ever annoy
23
Jigar Moradabadi
Jigar Moradabadi (1890–1960) is the nom de plume of Ali Sikandar, who was born in Moradabad and settled in Gonda. He was not educated formally but learnt Arabic, Urdu and Persian at a madrasa. Asghar Gondawi, a poet of renown, played a significant role in his life, both as a mentor and a friend. Jigar represented the iconic figure of a romantic Urdu poet who had developed a certain aura about his personality, was drunk to the brim, and performed in the mushairas on the strength of his sonorous voice. In his ghazals, Jigar took to eulogizing wine, beauty and love to the ultimate stage. It was only towards the end of his life that he distanced himself from alcohol and drew close to mysticism, which is reflected in his later poetry.
Although shorn of philosophical depth, Jigar’s ghazals remained a measure of what ghazal as a form stood for. He emerged as a very popular poet, of the common masses as well as the literary readers, who celebrated the joys of life and the buoyancy of youth by drawing upon stock images and metaphors of Persian and Urdu poetry. He kept away from the complex and heavily Persianized turns of phrases, as he brought poetry closer to common parlance. His appeal lay in the simplicity of his diction, the rhythmic nature of his verse, and the easy accessibility he offered to his uniquely epicurean world. Daagh-e Jigar, Shola-i Toor, and Aatish-e Gul, for which he got the Sahitya Akademi award, are his three collections.
1
Koee ye keh de gulshan gulshan
Laakh balaaein ek nasheman
Kaamil rahbar qaatil rahzan
Dil saa dost na dil saa dushman
Phool khile hain gulshan gulshan
Lekin apna apna daaman
Hasti-i shaair Allah Allah
Husn ki manzil ishq ka madfan
Rangeen fitrat saada tabeeyat
Farsh nasheen aur arsh nasheman
Kaam adhooraa aur aazaadi
Naam bade aur thode darshan
Shama hai lekin dhundli dhundli
Saaya hai lekin raushan raushan
Kaanton ka bhi haq hai kuchh aakhir
Kaun chhudaai apna daaman
Chalti phirti chhaaon hai pyare
Kis ka sehra kaisa gulshan
1
A word be heard in meadows, boroughs
Enough a home for many sorrows
Heart, a cruel robber, a perfect guide
And heart: a friend, a foe, a pride
Many a bliss from place to place
To each one a grace, a disgrace
Poet’s being in full bloom
Beauty’s goal, love’s tomb
Radiant nature, simple at best
Earth an abode, sky a nest
All freedom, little deeds
Big names, little proceeds
The lamp burns dim and light
But the shadows all bright
Thorns lay their own barb
Who can save one’s own garb
All of them, passing shadows
Wilds, bowers and meadows
2
Saqi ki har nigaah pe bal kha ke pee gayaa
Lehron se kheltaa hua lehra ke pee gayaa
Bekaifiyon ke kaif se ghabra ke pee gayaa
Tauba ko tod taad ke ghabra ke pee gayaa
Zaahid ye teri shokhi-i rindaana dekhnaa
Rahmat ko baaton baaton mein behla ke pee gayaa
Sarmasti-i azal jo mujhe yaad aa gaye
Dunyaa-i aitabaar ko thhukra ke pee gayaa
Aazurdag-i khaatir-e saqi ko dekh kar
Mujhko ye sharm aaee ke sharma ke pee gayaa
Ai rahmat-e tamaam, meri har khataa mu‘aaf
Mein intihaa-i shauq mein ghabra ke pee gayaa
Peeta beghair izn ye kab thee meri majaal
Dar parda chashm-e yaar ki shah paa ke pee gayaa
Kul aalam-e baseet pe mein chha ke pee gayaa
2
I watched the Saqi’s gaze each time I drank my drink
I played with waves, I danced with them, I drank my drink
Nervous at the elation of boredom, I drank my drink
I broke the promise of abstinence, I drank my drink
O devout one, that’s your real drinker’s courage
You took in nature’s bounty well, I drank my drink
When I recalled the bliss and boon of eternity
I kicked the bubbling world aside, I drank my drink
The Saqi was sorrowful, I too watched his gloom
I felt ashamed; in sheer shame, I drank my drink
O kindness incarnate! Forgive my failings for now
In pure delight, I got unnerved, I drank my drink
How could I drink without a nod, without courage?
But my dear love gave me a nod, I drank my drink
I swear by the one who rules the tavern, Jigar
Many a time, I ruled the world, I drank my drink
24
Firaq Gorakhpuri
Firaq Gorakhpuri (1896–1982), born Raghupati Sahay, acquired a taste for poetry from his father, Munshi Gorakh Prasad Ibrat, who practised law and wrote poetry of classical temper. Firaq began his education with learning the Urdu language, which ultimately became the chosen medium of his poetic expression. After his early education, he moved to Allahabad for higher education at Muir Inter College. He was selected for the job of a deputy collector but he declined the offer. Instead, he joined India’s freedom movement and was imprisoned, like others, for his anti-British activities. On release from prison, he taught at Christian College, Lucknow, and then at Sanatan Dharm College, Kanpur. Later, he got his master’s degree in English literature, and joined Allahabad University as a faculty member. Firaq was much honoured as a poet and was decorated with the highest literary award, the Jnanpith. He was the first recipient of this award for a work written in the Urdu language.
The blessings of romantic love and sex, human yearnings, life’s incongruities and the mysteries of the dark night engaged him incessantly in his poetry. He drew upon the Hindu mythology on the one hand, and the Hindi and Sanskrit idiom on the other. In doing this, he found space for pan-Indian thoughts and feelings in his poetry, as also a way to impart a new tone and tenor to the Urdu idiom. Some of his critics believe that his tone and tenor did not match with the genius of the Urdu language and the Persian-Urdu sensibility. Firaq also drew upon other poets of the classical Hindi and Sanskrit traditions like Surdas, Kalidas and Kabir, as well as of the English Romantic poets of the early nineteenth century, apart from the Urdu poet, Sheikh Ghulam Ali Hamadani Mus’hafi. Firaq spoke in soft, subdued and delicate tones to configure the delicacy and exquisiteness of love and the figure of the beloved. He was also a critic of the impressionistic style of poetry writing. His poetry collections include Naghma-i Saaz, Ghazalistaan, Sheristaan, Shabnamistaan, Roo-e Kainat, Gul-e Naghma, Dharti ki Karwat, Gul-e Barg, and Roop, a collection of rubais, the four-line metrical compositions.
Hazaron Khawaishen Aisi Page 9