by Vidya Rao

 I was fortunate to be one of the women invited to the first meeting of the Grandmothers’ University at Bija Vidyapeeth early this year. (more…)

140 dead and 538 injured - this little byline cuts through hearts and our future!

Yesterday was the day of images - moving pictures of excitement, energy, applause and then the saddest of recent tragedies. (more…)

Today is Mevlana’s 800th anniversary. Centuries later, his poetry and messages of love resonate across the globe. I am posting this piece by Charles Haviland (published on the BBC website). Haviland visits Balkhand meets the locals. This is a readable travel account, well informed and empathetic. And some great quotes, for instance a local official saying:

“Whether a person is from East or West, he can feel the roar of Rumi,”

I was struck by the beauty of the verses cited by the writer’s companion:

“Mawlana says - if the sky is not in love, then it will not be so clear. If the sun is not in love, then it will not be giving any light. If the river is not in love, then it will be in silence, it will not be moving. If the mountains, the earth are not in love, then there will be nothing growing.”

Read the full article here

Thanks to Isa, Mohib and Faisal for sending me the links to this article.

There was a tragedy in my family recently. It has been a sobering week, reflective as well as chaotic.

 Last night, I read this translation of Rumi and understod how important it was to have faith and trust the power of Love. 

Weave not, like spiders, nets from grief’s saliva
In which the woof and warp are both decaying.
But give the grief to Him, Who granted it,
And do not talk about it anymore.
When you are silent, His speech is your speech.
When you don’t weave, the weaver will be He.

– Translation by Annemarie Schimmel

The literati in India and Pakistan are grappling with the larger question of Qurratulain Hyder’s stature in Urdu, and some would say, World literature.  The Daily Times, Pakistan has published an appropriately titled editorial, Quratulain Hyder, Urdu’s greatest novelist. This paragraph struck me:

…her view of culture was intensely pluralistic, explaining Muslim culture too in a “transmigratory” technique in her big novel Aag Ka Darya. The Pakistani public paid her a back-handed compliment by making her books bestsellers in Pakistan; but most of them were pirated, meaning that someone other than her got rich selling them. She was always a chronicler, a kind of Tolstoy in Urdu that our critics have ignored. When someone asked her in Bombay to write about the Iran-Iraq war she naturally began with the Arab conquest at Qadissiya.

Outlook India had to say this:

Only a few days back, to mark the 60 years of Independence, when we asked an eminent jury to pick out 60 Great Indians in 60 years of our Republic, the name of Qurratulain Hyder was introduced prominently as Urdu’s Marquez.”Through her novels and short stories, this prolific writer gave Urdu fiction a brave and endlessly inventive new voice,” we wrote, and quoted the London Times: “Her magnum opus, Aag Ka Darya (River of Fire), is to Urdu fiction what A Hundred Years of Solitude is to Hispanic literature 

In C M Naim’s piece, published in the Outlook:

What counts, for her, is the human spirit and the relationships it generates and nurtures. That is where the linearity of time seems to curve into a spiral, urging us to recognize a past that never quite disappears…..What, then, is our choice as individuals? Here it may be worthwhile to recall the characteristically modest, even self-mocking, remarks that Hyder made in 1991 in her acceptance speech at the Jnanpith Award function: “My concern for civililzational values about which I continue writing may sound naive, wooly-headed and simplistic. But then, perhaps, I am like that little bird which foolishly puts up its claws, hoping that it will stop the sky from falling.“

and he concludes with this superb analysis:

…what Hyder tacitly offers us is nothing but that wise Candidean response: even in the best of all possible worlds, it is best not to neglect to tend our garden. Certainly, through the several thousand pages of her writings, she has shown herself to be an eloquent witness to that truth.

(photo left- Gauri Gill 2005)  The Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh also expressed the sense of loss: “..In her unfortunate passing away the country especially Urdu literature has lost a towering literary figure. She will be truly missed in literary circles in the country.’

Read Jawed Naqvi’s piece in the DAWN; and reactions of various writers in the daily NEWS . Rediff has published an article entitled, She was one of a Kind.  Javed Akhtar, the eminent Indian lyricist has paid this grand tribute and held that she was a true genius and rightly said that he felt sorry for those people who read fiction but had not read Hyder:

“When I say that it is a great loss, it’s not only to Urdu literature, not only to Indian literature, but to the word literature. I am not exaggerating at all.. the years to come, Haider’s novels will reach everywhere.”

“The kind of work she has done… its only because she was born in a third world country and wrote in a language that is not of the imperialistic powers, her novels have not reached everywhere. I am sure the time will come when they will reach..”. 

The blogosphere is also remembering Ainee Apa with great respect. Desicritics published An Enigmatic Icon, Adnan wrote a lovely piece on Ainee Apa and her books entitled A legend passes away and 3 Quarks Daily also remembered her. Urdu India has a brilliant post here and another tribute can be found here. Pakistaniat carried my post - click here to see the comments. And the best was from Delhi Walla, who went to the Jamia graveyard and took some great photos.

This will continue given the sad traditions of our literature - the literary and civilizational merits of authors and poets have often been discovered after they left this world. Having said that Ainee had established herself given her powerful voice and unique style of writing. But her real stature as Javed Akhtar says is yet to be discovered.

About the photo (top left): Gauri Gill in the Outlook writes: 

Qurratulain Hyder was first photographed by Prashant Panjiar in what was a coup of sorts, everyone talked of how elusive and difficult she could be. When I met her last week to persuade her, she said, ‘Tell the magazine I’m a difficult woman.’ I told her that was her reputation anyway. For the first time that afternoon she cracked a grin. She seemed flattered.

I have been upset the entire day. Perhaps it does not matter in the larger scheme of things. But this is a sad, sad day. Qurratulain Hyder, the literary giant of our times is no more. At a personal level it is not just the death of another literary figure but it is far greater and deeper than that. Ainee inspired generations of Urdu readers and there is not a single Urdu writer of post-independence era who has not been influenced by her.

Ainee had a civilizational consciousness that took us beyond the nation-state identities that we are so familiar with in our everyday lives. And, of course there was romance - the notion of eastern and Indic romance - that touched our lives. As I wrote earlier, that the way I have understood the world and perhaps parts of myself were deeply influenced by Ainee.

And now her death is a blow that this source of inspiration is not there anymore; as it is we are living in barren times where literature is about marketing and packaging and catering to consumers.

Ainee primarily wrote for herself but reached out and made her mark - and in the process she connected with millions of readers. And I am just one of them. My friends and I have talked today and we recounted how she shaped our inner lives.

I have at least avoided a regret - I met her after years of longing. Met her twice at her house in her frail state and enjoyed the hours. The impressions were indelible. Of course, the ambitious self had planned a meeting later this year.

But there will be nobody in that Noida house. That little temple opposite her house will remain and the sound of Azaan from a neighbouring mosque will also heard. But the hearty laughter, quick witted lines and inimitable writings will not be there.

However, as a friend said - writers die, their stories don’t -makes me a little content.

Farewell, Ainee Apa. May God keep you happy wherever you are..

Black and white photo is by Prashant Panjiar - the others were taken by me

 W.H. Auden’s “September 1, 1939,” is on my mind..

I had posted a poem on Iraq - Halaku, when you will come to Baghdad this time; and today reading the piece by Simon Jenkins brought back that hollow feeling of irreparable loss and destruction of Iraqi civilization, ostensibly, by the ‘civilized’ world.

Full story here >>

HUR left this poem on my blog in response to my post on Bangladesh and Bengali art. This is a moving poem with tender moments - much like the water colour strokes. Yet, it has a strong after-effect. Here it is: Click here >>

 It is a pleasure to have read Pervaiz Munir Alvi’s poetry. …For now I have selected two poems - personal and profound - for this post. The first echoes what many Pakistanis (or any other diaspora for that matter) observe on their visits to the homeland…..

Read the full post here

Yet again, I was mesmerised by the passion and force of Amrita’s poetry. Even though this is a translation, it renders the mood rather well..

Read poem here >>

The name Ozymandias (or Osymandias) is generally believed to refer to Ramesses the Great (i.e., Ramesses II), Pharaoh of the Nineteenth dynasty of ancient Egypt. It was written in December 1817 during a writing contest, and first published in 1818.”

Full entry here >>

Not a day passes when we are not reminded of the gradual erosion of our heritage. It is time that we thought of different solutions than a bureaucratic conservation model…

Full entry here >>

Taking a cue from the recent events in Pakistan, Ammar Qureshi has contributed a beautiful poem by Auden in a newspaper. I love the last lines: View entry here >>

Came across this beautiful translation of Faiz’s touching verse by Vikram Seth.

It is a great translation as it ventures to capture the melody and the mood of the original.

Last night your faded memory came to me
As in the wilderness spring comes quietly,
As, slowly, in the desert, moves the breeze,
As, to a sick man, without cause, comes peace.

 image credit

Full story >>

Nirmal has been visiting this blog and requesting for more translations of Parveen Shakir. I have found some on the Internet and here they are. Translations cannot do justice to the original pieces. Nuances are lost and metaphors change their shape. However, some of these are quite creative! 

Read more here >>

Ghalib’s immortal and complex poetry transcends time and sometimes even the boundaries of human thought.

The translation of this ghazal was found in Mirza Ghalib – A Creative Biography by Natalia Prigarina. Cited as an apt self-introduction, this is a timeless composition brings together myriad facets and moods of Ghalib. What a fascinating post-modern ‘unpacking’ of the self (that too in the nineteenth century)!

Read more here >>