This is in continuation of the splendid translation series undertaken by Mr. Anis Zuberi and contributed by JZ for this blog. Earlier posts can be found here here and here.

Drawing on the Persian tradition, the subject of Urdu Ghazal has always been about earthly or heavenly love. With the rise in social consciousness Urdu poets started using the form of nazm to address such issues like injustice, poverty, uneven distribution of wealth, highhandedness of the privileged, tyranny of rulers, exploitation by priests, etc. However, Faiz introduced protest and dissent as a regular subject in ghazal. He did it by keeping the ghazal’s traditional format but giving the lexicon of ghazal a different meaning. This has had such a profound effect on Faiz’s poetry that at times it is hard to draw a line between his ghazal and nazm. For instance, Hum ke threy ajnabi itni madaaratuN ke baad though written in ghazal form is also a topical nazm titled “Dhaka se wapsi per”, reflecting his deep emotions after he visited Bangladesh (former East Pakistan) in 1974.

He also discovered that whispering is more powerful then screaming and that became his hallmark. Unlike Iqbal, Josh or many others who wrote poetry of protest like us khet ke her khousha’e gandum ko jalado or kakhe-umaraa ke dar-o-dewar hila do, Faiz does not confront injustice with hostility and anger. His protest is not direct, loud, thunderous, or deafening. He faces up to his tormentor by his moral strength, power of endurance and persistence. He believes in a soft and gradual revolution. He challenges the conscience of all human beings by showing his resolve and defiance when he says, aaj bazaar meiN pa-ba-julaN chalo or jo bache haiN sang samet lo. Even in moments of extreme anguish he avoids confrontation and invokes heavenly justice when he says lazim he ke hum bhee dekheN ge.
He captivates his audience by mixing traditional love with protest; lout jati hei udher ko bhi nazar kiya kije. It is amazing how Faiz has changed the traditional meaning of idioms used in ghazal for centuries. For example, love (ishq) is synonymous with struggle for justice (tohmat-e-ishq poshida kafi nahiN); his lover (aashiq, Qais, majnouN, Farhad) is a victim of oppression who is offering sacrifices while waging a struggle for justice; His rivals (raqib and adoo) are exploiters (Agar urooj pe hei ta’lae raqib to kiya).
Keeping the above background, I will attempt to translate and explain the meaning of the ghazal.

Woh buton ne dalay hain waswasay ke dilon se khauf-e-Khuda gaya
Woh parri hain roz qayamatain, kekhayal-e-roz-e-jaza gaya

(So much) cynicism (waswasa also means confusion; uncertainty) is created by the idols that fear of God has vanished from hearts.
(Because People) have gone through Armageddon daily the thought of the Day of Judgment is gone.

Here ButoN is not a metaphor for beloved, earthly gods or goddesses, but a symbol of brute authority. The word khauf in the second line also reinforces that meaning. The meaning of butuN in the above line is same as in the following couplet: (more…)

I rediscovered this exquisite poem by Parveen Shakir after years. This is an intense love poem of rare beauty. It is composite, taut and melodic. I have tried to translate it - however, the impossibility of a translation haunts me..

More so, the reality of days gone by, the visions lost haunts me even more..

Dedicated to those who stand by the sea of evening colours and moods and want to merge with their expanse. And, to someone who lives with time present and time past with equal ease..

yay haseen shaam apni

yay haseen shaam apni
abhi jiss meiN ghul rahi hai
teray parahan kee khushboo
abhi jiss meiN khil rahay heiN
meray khawab kay shagoofay
zera dair ka hai manzar

zera dair meiN ufq par
khilay ga koi sitaara
teri simt daik kar woh
karay ga koi ishara
teray dil ko aayay ga phir
kissi yaad ka bullawa
koi qissa-ay judaaee, koi kaar-ay naamukamal
koi khawab-ay naa shagufta, koi baat kehnay wali

humeiN chaahiyay tha milna
kissi ahad-ay mehrbaaN meiN
kissi khawab kay yaqeeN meiN
kissi aur aasmaaN par
kissi aur sarzameeN meiN
humeiN chahiyay tha milna…

Here is the odd translation rendered by this blogger.

This melting evening of ours
Where everything dissolves
the scent of your clothes
the blossoming
sprouts of my dreams
All dissolves

A deferred vision, this is

In a little while,
a star will emerge on the horizon
To gaze at you
Meaningfully…!
Your heart shall then reminisce
the echo of a memory
The tale of a separation,
Of an unfinished moment
Of unblossomed dreams, things unsaid

We ought to have met
In times, considerate
In pursuit of attainable dreams
On a different sky
On a different earth
We ought to have met

Picture by Raza Rumi

Another translation of Faiz rendered by a Toronto based poet - Anis Zuberi. This is a timeless poem or nazm, aaj bazaar main pa ba jolan chalo has been translated and explained below. I am also posting a video that shows Faiz reciting the poem followed by a beautiful rendition by Nayyara Noor.

Aaj bazaar main pa ba jolan chalo

aaj bazaar main pa bajolan chalo
let us walk in bazaar in shackles

Chashm-e-nam, jaan-e-shoreeda kafi nahin
wet eyes and restless soul is not enough

Tohmat-e-ishq-posheeda kafi nahin
being charged for nurturing concealed love is not enough (more…)

Junaid has sent another translation of Faiz rendered by a Toronto based poet - Anis Zuberi. This is a timeless ghazal, Na Ganvao Navak-e-Neem Kash has not only been translated but also explained in detail by Mr Zuberi.

Na ganvao navak-e-neem kash, dil-e-reza reza ganva dia
Jo bachay hain sang samet lo, tan-e-dagh dagh luta dia

Mere charagar ko naveed ho, saf-e-dushmana ko khabar karo
Woh jo qarz rakhtay thay jaan par, woh hisab aaj chuka dia

Karo kaj jabeen pe sar-e-kafan, mere qatilon ko guman na ho
Ke ghuroor-e-ishq ka baankpan, pas-e-marg hum ne bhula dia

Udhar aik harf ki kushtni, yahan laakh uzr thaa guftni
Jo kaha toh sun ke ura dia, jo likha toh parh ke mita dia

Jo rukay toh koh-e-garan thay hum, jo chalay toh jan se guzar gaye
Rah-e-yaar hum ne qadam qadam, tujhay yadgaar bana dia

Translation and explanation:

Na ganvao navak-e-neem kash, dil-e-reza reza ganva dia
Jo bachay hain sang samet lo, tan-e-dagh dagh luta dia
Do not waste (your) half drawn arrow, (I have already) lost (broken pieces of my) heart.
Collect and save the left-over stones, (my) injured or wounded body is (already) wasted

There is a clear sense of despondency as he realizes that his opponents are mighty and he had no physical strength to challenge them. (more…)

Junaid has sent this classic ghazal by one of the earlier, eclectic poets of Urdu language, Siraj Aurangabadi. The best part of his email is the translation by his relative - a Toronto based poet - Anis Zuberi. The translation is amazing as it delves into the deeper meanings of this great ghazal.

Anis Zuberi writes:

It is hard to translate classical poets. This ghazal of Siraj is like a flower, full of beauty and fragrance that one should smell and enjoy and not dissect. …Siraj Aurangabadi was one of the earlier poets of Urdu who came after Wali Dukkani. According to his biography for years, he was in a state of trance and used to remain naked. Khabar e-tahayyur-e-ishq is one of the his most famous Ghazals.

Khabar-e-tahayyur-e-ishq sunn, na junoon raha na pari rahi
Na toh tu raha na toh mein raha, jo rahi so be-khabari rahi

Learn oh absorbing love that neither the obsession (for the beloved) is left nor and the object (pari) of love survived. The only thing that is left is a state of self-unconsciousness: where neither you exist nor I exist. (more…)

This soulful poem by Faiz (??) was rendered by Madame Noor Jehan in her early, melodious years. Manto has also mentioned this rendition in his biography of the great Noor Jehan.

What an effortless and grand effort. (more…)

By Intizar Husain

ONE fine morning under the programme of Sahitya Academy I found myself in Lucknow, and wondered if it was the Lucknow I had earnestly desired to get a glimpse of. When after partition Attiya Husain wrote her novel depicting the Lucknow of good old days, she chose to present it under the title Sunlight on the broken column. Now the broken column is very much there, but sunlight has long faded away. The novel had been dubbed as decadence by the maulvis, reformists and the progressives alike, and as a flourishing of fine arts and culture by the liberals. Prof Anis Ashfaq, who was kind enough to host me and sensing my keenness to have a glimpse of that sunshine, led me to Imambara Asifiya. What a splendid structure. One was left wondering at high, spacious roof with no columns to support it. The upper story has a bhoolbhulliyan, a maze. It provides added attraction to visitors. (more…)

 Mir Anis is a classical master of Urdu poetry whose elegies on the struggles between Imam Hussain, prophet’s grandson and the usurper, callous monarch Yazid are immortal. Today is the 10th of Muharram signifying the epic Karbala battle and the martyrdom of Imam Hussain. The mourning for Hussain and his family is not complete without a reference to Anis and his peer Dabeer. Luckily I found a Marthiyaa of Anis, that has been translated into English David Matthews, published by Rupa Co. (more…)

Meray Derd ko jo Zuban mille
Mujhe apna naam o nishan milay
Mujhe raaz jo ye pinhan milay
mujhe Kainaat ki sarvari
Mujhe daulat i do jahan milay

for video-link (more…)

“Woh Gor-i-Ghariban par
Aur hanse kar bole
Yeh jungle hamare basaey huyae hain”

(Walking past the graveyard of paupers “His Majesty” conferred / This desolate forest is my blessing!)

Quratulain Hyder in Gardish- i-Rang- i-Chaman

courtesy

La phir aik bar wohi …I must say that this is not bad at all. I am happy to have strayed towards this blog and found the link (more…)

Yesterday was the Iqbal day- year after year it has become just another empty ritual. High sounding speeches and statements, visits to Iqbal’s tomb in the spectacular Hazoori Baagh and negligible focus on his message and vision. (more…)

My young friend has translated Fahmida Riaz’s words, and how inspiring these are..  (more…)

End of an era: Ainee Apa 1927 - 2007

Why do we all find ourselves present in this particular context, in this particular place? How have these pictures assembled here in this jigsaw puzzle? Soon, something will happen, pieces will scatter and become part of a newer pattern? This time will pass? (From My Temples, Too)

The death of Qurratulain Hyder marks the end of an era of the finest writing in Urdu. Hyder, also known as Ainee Apa, dominated the world of Urdu literature for over six decades. She started writing as a child and published her first novel, Meray Bhi Sanam Khanay (later trans-created as My Temples, Too), when she was 22 years old. The novel set a new trend in Urdu literature: a voice of modernity, yet one rooted in the traditions of the Indo-Muslim ethos as it struggled to narrate the tragic tale of the birth of two new nations. Even her worst critics, the doyens of the Progressive Writer’s Movement, acknowledged her innate gift for writing. Within three years, her second novel was published and she had unwittingly kick-started the revival of the Urdu novel from the point where Munshi Prem Chand had left it in the early twentieth century.

Her genius found a panoramic range of expression in Aag Ka Darya, which for its canvas, historical consciousness and characterisation, surpasses most novels written in any language. This novel deals with the plight of the human condition in the Indo-Pakistani setting from the fourth century BC to the 1950s. Starting with a translation of a TS Eliot poem, it traces multiple eras, with characters disappearing and reappearing in different guises, pitted against the broad strokes of history and time.

It was an epoch-making event in Urdu literature, but ran into trouble in Pakistan, as the novel highlighted the thousand year old composite Indo-Muslim culture of pre-Partition India, something which was not in line with the official version of history being constructed in Pakistan. Ideologically driven right-wing critics considered it a threat to their nationalism. (more…)

The death of Qurratulain Hyder has generated a spate of comment, obituaries and tributes. Each day I receive several emails, find new posts and articles on the internet and of course sweet little discoveries.

SG has again discovered and promptly forwarded me this interview with BBC Urdu- a nearly half an hour audio-clip. I had posted the link to another interview that was recorded in the early 1990s. This one was recorded nearly a decade later. One can hear Hyder’s  weak voice after the stroke she suffered. Hyder also laments that she has difficulty in writing and now she dictates to students. She adds that it is not a pleasurable process as the  ‘relationship with pen and paper’ is lost.

In this interview, we hear of her childhood, her short stay in the Andaman Islands, the imprints of British imperialism, the pre-partition culture of tolerance and how things changed in India and Pakistan.

Ainee’s love for travel and exploring new places and meeting people also comes out clearly from this interview. We can assume that she received much inspiration by travelling. We hear all about her books as the interviewer discusses her works in some detail.

However, the interviewer is careful not to praise her too much as she was known to get irritated by an over-dose of compliments. But he does mention that by writing Kare Jahan Daraaz Hai  Ainee had established a new trend of a creative and realistic autobiography as opposed to exaggerated sense of the self that many writers display in Urdu literature.

After years, I picked up the 2001 edition of Kare Jahan and started reading it again last night. As the literary critic C. M. Naim said, this book expands the “potential of experiencing life. What more can a reader ask of his author?”

Kare Jahan is a family chronicle, an autobiography, a creative journal and a novel at the same time! Navigating through its interconnected stories, social commentary and ambiance, the reader, slowly, becomes a part of the narrative; and starts viewing the world in a different perspective. I have yet to read another book that so effortlessly blends disparate genre of writing with such abandon.

Ainee’s interview in this audio clip should not be missed.

Postscript. Also read this moving tribute by Azra Raza at 3 quarksdaily:

Aini Apa’s memory was extraordinary and flawless, her intelligence was dazzling, her knowledge of Urdu, Hindi, and English literature, archeology, dance, classical music, (her last book is a biography of Ustad Baray Ghulam Ali Khan), painting, etymology and history was astonishing. I never heard her utter a platitude in all the times I have spent with her, and she was equally brilliant in both Urdu and English. Aini Apa was a fantastic mimic and could adopt a series of perfectly authentic regional accents. She thoroughly enjoyed a good joke, especially if it involved her.

And, this beautiful letter written by her nephew, Saif Hyder Hasan that talks of the personal loss faced by Ainee Apa’s family:

That was you. Absolutely uncomplicated, childlike, not at all worldly wise, generous, self-effacing and full of the ability to laugh at yourself. You couldn’t tolerate fools. And you couldn’t tolerate charlatans.

Lastly, Sheela Reddy at the Outlook again:

Fame also played cupid—for a bit. K.A. Abbas, journalist, author, film producer, began to correspond with the London-based novelist. Love happened, and a tryst. But it was a disaster. Abbas, the story goes, turned up in a bright blue suit. Qurratulain, always particular about appearances, took an instant dislike to the suit, and the man. “I can’t marry a man who doesn’t know how to dress,” was her now legendary response.

Azra Raza rightly said: “Aini Apa, Zindabaad!”

Sahir Ludhianvi’s immortal poem Taj Mahal has always fascinated me. It takes a most unconventional take at this beautiful monument where the poet protests at the choice of an romantic rendezvous.

Today, I found a lovely translation of this poem. I am reproducing it below - but first a few lines from Urdu:

Yeh chaman zar yeh jamna ka kinara yeh mahal
Yeh munaqqash dar-o-deevar yeh mehrab yeh taaq
Aik shahanshah nay daulat ka sahara lay ker
Hum ghareebon kee mohabbat ka uraya hai mazaaq 

 Taj Mahal

The Taj, mayhap, to you may seem, a mark of love supreme
You may hold this beauteous vale in great esteem;
Yet, my love, meet me hence at some other place!

How odd for the poor folk to frequent royal resorts;
‘Tis strange that the amorous souls should tread the regal paths
Trodden once by mighty kings and their proud consorts.
Behind the facade of love my dear, you had better seen,
The marks of imperial might that herein lie screen’d
You who take delight in tombs of kings deceased,
Should have seen the hutments dark where you and I did wean.
Countless men in this world must have loved and gone,
Who would say their loves weren’t truthful or strong?
But in the name of their loves, no memorial is raised
For they too, like you and me, belonged to the common throng.

These structures and sepulchres, these ramparts and forts,
These relics of the mighty dead are, in fact, no more
Than the cancerous tumours on the face of earth,
Fattened on our ancestor’s very blood and bones.
They too must have loved, my love, whose hands had made,
This marble monument, nicely chiselled and shaped
But their dear ones lived and died, unhonoured, unknown,
None burnt even a taper on their lowly graves.

This bank of Jamuna, this edifice, these groves and lawns,
These carved walls and doors, arches and alcoves,
An emperor on the strength of wealth, Has played with us a cruel joke.
Meet me hence, my love, at some other place.

Translation by K.C. Kanda, appeared in “Masterpieces of Urdu Nazm”, published by Sterling Publishers Pvt. Ltd. - found here

SG has sent me this old audio recording of Qurratulain Hyder when she visited London in the 1990s [?] and was interviewed by the BBC.

This is a great interview, with Ainee Apa at her best: quick witted, sharp and entertaining. During the interview she makes fun of the light weight journalism and then remarks on how a writer or an artist gets stuck by an image. She talks of an image from the Iraq war - a 15 second long clip - where a woman is questioning as to why is she a victim of a war.

About getting the highest national awards, she is a little reticent to say much, perhaps finding it ’boring’ in her usual style. In fact she is even a little mocking but then corrects herself immediately.

Another great feature of this recording is that she reads a portion of her (then) latest novel Chandni Begum. (This is one of her later novels and brings forth the evolution of post-colonial India, the confidence of the new generations and the replacement of the old order with the new complex Indian reality. This is also a curious novel, where the protaganist -Chandni - dies at an early stage of the plot and life moves on…Only Ainee could have handled such a story and narrative).

In her reading, Ainee impersonates the characters - street performers or nautankee wallahs- and the passage invokes an entire mood, sociology and politics of how the performing troupe[s] function and finds their stars. There is reference to an artiste who in her greed has renounced her art and has moved to Dubai as an ayah (a domestic helper or a nanny).

The ultimate historical value of this audio-clip is the background to her translation of a 1790 novel authored by a junior official of the East India Company called Hasan Shah.

This novel entitled Nashtar and written in a mix of Hindi and Persian was discovered by Ainee from the Aligarh library. She translated it as “The Dancing Girl” (there is a version called The Nautch Girl as well) and published it in the late 1990s.

The novel, claims Ainee, is the first (South Asian) novel in a modern sense.  The author was a contemporary of Jane Austen. Ainee also mentions the book’s contemporary style of writing, fascinating characterisation and the historical value with respect to the narration of the English Officers’ lifestyle and their immersion in local culture and manners. This changed, as Ainee reminds in this clip, during the reign of Lord Cornwallis when the English officials were asked to develop and maintain a distance from the natives.

(Hasan Shah’s novel was translated in 1890, prior to the publication of Umrao Jan, and therefore Ainee strongly maintaned this to be the first novel. Later some critics disagreed but Ainee held to her point of view based on irrefutable evidence she had painstakingly gathered.)

Listening to this voice in its full force was a pleasure. What a little gem - and I cannot thank my friend more for sending this link.

Picture credit

Postscript: Today, Pakistan’s Geo TV also ran a programme on Ainee in its popular talk show ‘50 minutes’. Tributes were paid and senior writers (including Abdullah Husain who was accused by Ainee of plagirising her in his novel Udaas Naslain! - the gentleman was quite incoherent) held forth on her ’stature’. Some of the discussion was good though a few comments were pretty prosaic (Ainee Apa would not have liked that stuff). But then she must be smiling at Abdullah Hussain declaring on national television that she was the greatest of Urdu novelists!