Subscribe
Archive for the ‘World Literature’ Category
A stove is better than Bulleh
“Main NeevaaN Mera Murshid Uccha…
Main UcchiyaaN naal sang laayeeâ€
I am lowly my spiritual guide is lofty!
I have tied my fate to such lofty ones!
“Bulleh naaloN chullaah changaa
jis te ann pakaaee daa
ral faqeera majlas keetee
bhora bhora khaaee daaâ€
A stove is better than Bulleh
because at least you can cook food on it
Saints sit together to eat
and share their food with each other
“Bulleh Pi sharaab tey kha kabab,
par baal haddaan di ag,
Chooree kartay bhan ghar rab da,
ais thuggan de thug noo thug.â€
O Bulleha, Drench yourself in wine and feast
ignite the fires flaming out of the bones.
stealing, break into the house of God
and swindle the cheat of cheats.
“Mulla tay mashaalchi dohaan ikko chit
Loukan karday chananan, aap anhairae vichâ€
Mullah and the torch-bearer, both from the same flock
Guiding others; themselves in the dark
Fariduddin Attar’s Conference of the Birds
The legendary Sufi poet, Farid al-Din ‘Attar was born in Nishapur, in northeastern Iran, in 1142. He was beheaded by the invading Mongol army in 1221. His tomb at Shadyakh is visited by many. Rumi was also inspired by Attar. The best known work of Fariduddin Attar’s works is Manteq al-Tayr (Conference of the Birds)- Here is a synopsis of this work.
Led by the hoopoe, the birds of the world set forth in search of their king, Simurgh. Their quest takes them through seven valleys in the first of which a hundred difficulties assail them. They undergo many trials as they try to free themselves of what is precious to them and change their state. Once successful and filled with longing, they ask for wine to dull the effects of dogma, belief, and unbelief on their lives.
In the second valley, the birds give up reason for love and, with a thousand hearts to sacrifice, continue their quest for discovering the Simurgh.
The third valley confounds the birds, especially when they discover that their worldly knowledge has become completely useless and their understanding has become ambivalent. They cannot understand why both the mihrab and the idol lead to understanding. Devoid of their earthly measures, they lose their ability to distinguish right from wrong.
The fourth valley is introduced as the valley of detachment, i.e., detachment from desire to possess and the wish to discover. The birds begin to feel that they have become part of a universe that is detached from their physical recognizable reality. In their new world, the planets are as minute as sparks of dust and elephants are not distinguishable from ants.
It is not until they enter the fifth valley that they realize that unity and multiplicity are the same. And as they have become entities in a vacuum with no sense of eternity. More importantly, they realize that God is beyond unity, multiplicity, and eternity.
Stepping into the sixth valley, the birds become astonished at the beauty of the Beloved. Experiencing extreme sadness and dejection, they feel that they know nothing, understand nothing. They are not even aware of themselves.
Only thirty birds reach the abode of the Simurgh. But there is no Simurgh anywhere t o see. Simurgh’s chamberlain keeps them waiting for Simurgh long enough for the birds to figure out that they themselves are the si (thirty) murgh (bird). The seventh valley is the valley of depravation, forgetfulness, dumbness, deafness, and death. The present and future lives of the thirty successful birds become shadows chased by the celestial Sun. And themselves, lost in the Sea of His existence, are the Simurgh.
courtesy Zen Sufi who referred me to this site
Afghan Madhouse (Book Review - No Space for Further Burials)
Decades of imperialism have left Afghanistan and its people devastated. But the fall of the Taliban, and the much touted ‘liberation’ of Afghanistan, has produced a new spate of novels, films and other artistic media dealing with the ‘Afghan victim’.
And when I say ‘Afghan victim,’ I mean a nauseating overdose of burqa-oppression, Taliban brutality and other Oriental tragedies. Not only are these subjects sexy they tie into the global imperatives of terror and Islamism but they also artfully exonerate the aggressor, whether it is the Soviets, US imperialism or NATO. As such, the bulk of this new subgenre of fiction addresses the Western, English-speaking world; writing about reluctant and not-so-reluctant fundamentalists sells ‘Over There’. Meanwhile, literature is turning into a grand extravaganza of marketing, prizes, commoditization and short-lived shelf lives.
Feryal Ali Gauhar’s second novel, No Space for Further Burials, attempts to break free of many of these stereotypes. A trained economist, filmmaker and former UN Goodwill Ambassador, Gauhar opts to publish her book in India , not a Western outlet. More importantly, No Space inverts the oft-hackneyed themes of displacement, war, America and the suffering Afghans, ultimately treating these grim motifs by focusing on the sanity and insanity implicit within personal narrative. Read the rest of this entry »
A few poems by Bulleh Shah
Recently, I was asked to help a friend with the original text of Bulleh Shah’s Hindu na Na heen Musalmaan. I found the original Punjabi and also found two other pieces that I am posting here.
Bulleh Shah’s poetry addresses most maladies that we face in this day and age.
——————————
HiNdu na naheeN musalmaan,
Baheeye tiranjan taj abhimaan.
Sunni na naheeN ham sheeya
Sulha kuhl ka maarag leeya.
Bhookhe na naheeN ham rahje,
NaNge na naheeN ham kahje.
RoNde na naheeN ham hasde
UjaRe na naheeN ham vasde.
Paapi na sudharmi na,
Paap pun ki raah na jaanaaN.
Bulhe Shah jo hari chit laage,
Hindu turak doojan tiyaage
Neither Hindu nor Muslim,
Sacrificing pride, let us sit together.
Neither Sunni nor Shia,
Let us walk the road of peace.
We are neither hungry nor replete,
Neither naked nor covered up.
Neither weeping nor laughing,
Neither ruined nor settled,
We are not sinners or pure and virtuous,
What is sin and what is virtue, this I do not know.
Says Bulhe Shah, one who attaches his self with the lord.
Gives up both hindu and muslim. Read the rest of this entry »
Loving or Hating Arundhati Roy?
Cross-posted from drunkonink blog. Soniah Kamal’s thoughtful write-up is worth sharing here:
Saba Bhaumik’s opinion piece in Outlook India once again attempts to explain why Indians may not be madly in love with Arundhati Roy while the West supposedly is but Bhaumik doesn’t say anything that hasn’t already been said a million times: Indian males are envious coz Roy is smart, the women are confused by her outspokeness and, while Roy’s hair styles challenge beauty norms, her sense of style sets dressing trends.
The other side of Emperor Babar
Babar, the founder of Mughal dynasty in India was an unusual character of his times. A poet, writer and a free soul, he was so modern and some would say post-modern in an era otherwise categorised as medieval. I was delighted to find this piece authored by Ashfaque Naqvi.
An interesting book has landed at my table. As the title, Zaheeruddin Muhammad Babar, is about the person who laid the foundations of the Mughal Empire in the sub-continent. Written by the eminent Indian educationist, Qamar Rais, it gives a different picture of the man from what we gather about him from his self-written, Tozak-i-Babri…..
As Prof Qamar Rais says in the foreword, he had for long been studying the works of Ali Sher Nawai and such other classical poets of Uzbekistan but realized during his stay in that country that those people revered Babar more for being an intellectual and a lyrical poet. In fact, even during the Soviet era, he saw Babar’s pictures hung in most homes showing him holding a book and sunk in deep thought. As a consequence, he directed his studies in that field.
… even today, Babar is held in esteem and considered a hero both in Afghanistan and Uzbekistan. He even quotes Pandit Nehru as having said that the greatness of Babar lay not in capturing India but in capturing the hearts of Indians.
All I have to offer…
Rest your cheek, for a moment,
on this drunken cheek.
Let me forget the war and cruelty inside myself.
I hold these silver coins in my hand;
give me Your wine of golden light. Read the rest of this entry »
O Beloved, Be Like That to Me
The flames that dance with love -
O Beloved, be like that to me.
The burning heat within the fire -
O Beloved, be like that to me. Read the rest of this entry »
On the day of death - Sheb i Aroos
when i die
when my coffin
is being taken out
you must never think
i am missing this world
don’t shed any tears
don’t lament or
feel sorry Read the rest of this entry »
Prince Charles on “East and West: Parables of the Soul”
Prince Charles was recently in Konya, Turkey  on a state visit that coincides with Rumi’s 800th birth anniversary. Commenting on the appeal of Rumi globally, he said: “Is it perhaps the depth of yearning of the heart which we all feel and which he [Rumi]understands and describes so well.”
When asked what he thought of the shrine he added: “Fascinating, fascinating, there’s never enough time.”
He also made a speech there which is an amazing read. I am posting a few excepts here.
“God’s purpose for man is to acquire a seeing eye and an understanding heart.â€
In an age of increasing ignorance, intolerance and mis-understanding it is perhaps worth reflecting on the one element that has the potential to unite us all – beyond the World-Wide Web or globalization. That element lies in the mystery of the heart. Is it not strange that at a time in history when every taboo has seemingly been broken; every sacred cow slaughtered, that the very idea of mysticism itself – the practice of the mystery of the heart – seems to have become of far less significance?
And yet have not the founders of the World’s greatest religions all spoken in one way or another of the need to enter the temple of the heart? Why? Because, surely, is it not the mystery within, when once unlocked, that is able to inspire the kind of inner understanding which can break asunder the law of cause and effect that so undermines our attempts at reconciliation?
Therefore, what better occasion and what better place than here, near the resting place of Mevlana Jalal’uddin Rumi, to re-dedicate ourselves to the purpose of re-acquiring and understanding heart…
Full text here
Each Note
Advice doesn’t help lovers!
They’re not the kind of mountain stream
you can build a dam across.
An intellectual doesn’t know
what the drunk is feeling!
Don’t try to figure
what those lost inside love
will do next!
Someone in charge would give up all his power,
if he caught one whiff of the wine-musk
from the room where the lovers
are doing who-knows-what!
One of them tries to dig a hole through a mountain.
One flees from academic honors.
One laughs at famous mustaches!
Life freezes if it doesn’t get a taste
of this almond cake.
The stars come up spinning
every night, bewildered in love.
They’d grow tired
with that revolving, if they weren’t.
They’d say,
“How long do we have to do this!”
God picks up the reed-flute world and blows.
Each note is a need coming through one of us,
a passion, a longing-pain.
Remember the lips
where the wind-breath originated,
and let your note be clear.
Don’t try to end it.
Be your note.
I’ll show you how it’s enough.
Go up on the roof at night
in this city of the soul.
Let everyone climb on their roofs
and sing their notes!
Sing loud!
– Rumi - version by Coleman Barks
Ghazali and The Arabian Nights
Khaled Ahmed in a recent review writes:
 The scholar fears that his own religious validity may be destroyed through political contact. The king is usually keen to establish contact with the scholar for his legitimacy, not because he wants to correct his political behaviour
This volume on The Arabian Nights or Alf Laila wa Laila is the result of a conference held in Japan in 2002 to celebrate 300 years of the French version of the Arabic masterpiece done by Antoine Galland. Through it, the Japanese orientalists put on record their nation’s contact with Orientalism and revealed in the process some remarkable facts about the Nights hitherto unknown to most Muslim scholars. Read the rest of this entry »
On the eve of Guru Nanak’s birth anniversary
Centuries ago, Guru Nanak composed these lines:
Within every body
Is the Lord hidden;
Within every body
Is His light.
Of Autumn and Roses
I sent this poem to Fahmida Riaz a few days ago to comfort her. Little did I know that there would be another death of a close one; and I had to read it again to console myself! Read the rest of this entry »
Happy Diwali - on light and triumph
Indians and Hindus in Pakistan are celebrating Diwali today - I wish them a very happy Diwali. There will be fireworks and festivities signifying Ram’s return after a long exile. Read the rest of this entry »
Nothing but a figure of clay
Wealth has no permanence: it comes in the morning, Read the rest of this entry »
Byron: the elusive poet
I stumbled on this article on Byron - a romantic poet - who died young but left a legacy of fine poetry, political vision and surely a lifestyle ahead of his age.. Read the rest of this entry »
How rarely these few years (Seth)
“Naught to do with existence”
From Rumi’s Mathnavi (book III) - a parable most beautiful. Read the rest of this entry »
Longing - a short poem
This little poem by the famous Turk poet Aziz Nesin was left on Jahane Rumi by Sherry - I love it so much that I am re-posting it here -
You made me wait so long, so long that
I got used to missing you
You came back after a long time
I now love longing for you more
than I love you
(translated by Suleyman Fatih Akgul)