1
Yaad ab khud ko aa rahe hain hum
Kuchh dinon tak Khuda rahe hain hum
Aaj to apni khaamshi mein bhi
Teri aawaaz paa rahe hain hum
Baat kya hai ke phir zamaane ko
Yaad rah rah ke aa rahe hain hum
Jo kabhi laut kar nahi aate
Wo zamaane bula rahe hain hum
Zindagi ab to saadgi se mil
Baad sadiyon ke aa rahe hain hum
Ab hamein dekh bhi na paaoge
Itne nazdeek aa rahe hain hum
Ghazlein ab tak sharaab peeti theen
Neem ka rus pila rahe hain hum
Dhoop nikli hai muddaton ke baad
Geele jazbe sukha rahe hain hum
1
A God for some time now
I recall myself now
Even in my solitude
I can hear your voice now
What’s the matter, why this world?
Remembers me often now
Ages that never return
But I must call them back now
Life! Meet me with no pretence
Ages later, I come now
You wouldn’t even see me then
So close I am getting now
Ghazal has been drinking wine
I bring her a bitter drink now
The sun has shown after ages
I dry up moist emotions now
Sardiyon mein lihaaf se chimte
Chand taaron pe ja rahe hain hum
Zeest ki ek barqi ladki ko
Noor Namah padha rahe hain hum
Us ne poochha hamaare ghar ka pata
Coffee house bula rahe hain hum
Kandhe uchka ke baat karne mein
Munfarid hote ja rahe hain hum
Teddy tehzeeb teddy fikr-o nazar
Teddy ghzalein suna rahe hain hum
In hard winter, wrapped in quilt
I leave for the starry skies now
To a life’s electrifying lass
I am teaching Noor Nama now
He asked me of my address
I take him to coffee house now
I talk with shaking shoulders
I’ve got so special now
Teddy culture, thoughts and ways
I recite teddy ghazals now
2
Saanp jab os ka badan chaate
Ret ko ret ki jalan chaate
Barf ki ungliyaan agar choomoon
Mere talwon ko ek kiran chaate
Kis mohabbat se choomate ho hamein
Saanp jis tarha apna mun chaate
Ek lamhe ki raushni ke liye
Aag kaaghaz ka pairahan chaate
Ek hazaar ek raat ke phun hain
Jab ye naagin kisee ka tun chaate
Mard us samt dekhte hi naheen
Gaai jab gaai ka badan chaate
Zard kutte ki surkh jeebh kabhi
Surmaee raat ki thakan chaate
2
When a dewdrop the snake licks
Then sand’s blaze, the sand licks
If I kiss the snow’s fingers
You kiss me with such pure love
As its own being, the snake licks
To create a moment’s light
The paper’s garb, the fire licks
Night unfurls a thousand hoods
Someone’s body, the snake licks
Men don’t look that side ever
When a cow’s body, a cow licks
The red tongue of a pale dog
The grey night’s exhaustion licks
Ek billi safed choohe ka
Dhoop mein baith kar badan chaate
Ek khargosh barf per leta
Ik gilahree ka sard tun chaate
Aaeena khaane mein akela saanp
Jhoom jhoom aap apna phun chaate
Do minute mein cooker ki saat dishein
Ungliyaan ab ghazal ka fun chaate
A cat, basking in the sun
Of a white rat’s body licks
A rabbit lying on snow
A squirrel’s cold body licks
Lonely snake in mirror-house
Its own hood, in rapture licks
A cooker, two minutes, seven dishes
Now the art of ghazal, the finger licks
48
Adil Mansuri
Adil Mansuri (1936–2008), poet, painter, calligrapher and playwright, was born Farid Mohammad in Ahmedabad. His mother tongue was Gujarati but he also learnt Arabic and Urdu in Karachi, where his family had migrated after the Partition of India to see if their life could be better there. Returning eight years later to his native land, Mansuri revisited himself afresh as a young man of twenty years. He finally chose to settle down in the United States of America at the age of fifty, where he also breathed his last. He is one of the very few who combined the vocations of calligraphy, painting, digital art, plays and poetry, and used his multiple skills to write avant-garde poetry both in Gujarati and Urdu, and win several awards.
Mansuri belonged to the first line of modernists who made bold interventions in language and form, as his collection, Hashr Ki Sub’ha Darakhshan Ho, shows. He used his poetry as a canvas to configure the political and the social, alongside the cultural, contours of his times. He was acutely conscious of contemporary history and Islamic tradition, as also of colour, word and image. Mansuri did not indulge in a conscious construction of meaning; in fact, he broke the constraints of language and meaning to approach the meaning of meaning. He, thus, reached to a supposed meaning through apparent meaninglessness, which in turn, defined him as a surrealist poet of remarkable significance. ‘I am curious about shapes, colours, form, light, horizon, time, language, scripts,’ he wrote, ‘and every day, I move ahead into curiosity, my endless journey.’
1
(Khud kalaami ki ghazal)
Ghoorata kya hai kameene kutte
Soonghata kya hai kameene kutte
Chandani odh so gaee basti
Jaagata kya hai kameene kutte
Shab ki khaamoshi sun sake to sun
Bhaunkata kya hai kameene kutte
Ye to teri hi apni haddi hai
Chaata’ta kya hai kameene kutte
Ghair ka aks aaeene mein kahaan
Nochata kya hai kameene kutte
Tere saai ka tujh pe paon pada
Kata’ta kya hai kameene kutte
Teri manzil hunooz koson door
Haanpata kya hai kameene kutte
Saamana kar tamaam dunya ka
Bhagata kya hai kameene kutte
Sochane ka koee ‘ilaaj naheen
Sochata kya hai kameene kutte
Dekh saari Khudaaee jaag uthhi
Oonghata kya hai kameene kutte
1
(A ghazal that is also a soliloquy)
Why stare, you lowly dog?
Why sniff, you lowly dog?
In moonlight, the village sleeps
Why awake, you lowly dog?
Hear this night’s silence, if you can
Why so bark, you lowly dog?
Can’t you see your own bone, dog!
Why lick it, you lowly dog?
There is none else in mirror
Why dig it, you lowly dog?
Your shadow stepped over you
Why then bite, you lowly dog?
Your goal still so far away!
Why pant now, you lowly dog?
Face the world squarely now
Why run away, you lowly dog?
No remedy for dark thoughts
Why then think, you lowly dog?
Why then doze, you lowly dog?
2
Ruswaayi se ab bacha lo Aleph
Pateele main rakh kar ubaalo Aleph
Badan Bey ke under utar jaai to
Kinaare pe rah kar nikaalo Aleph
Kaheen to kisee shai se takraaegi
Khalaaon mein jaa kar uchhaalo Aleph
Bure waqt mein saath deta hai kaun
Sabhi apne apne sambhaalo Aleph
Kisee ka bhi ho us se kya waasta
Padaa gar mile to uthha lo Aleph
Ye paani to pighli hui barf hai
To sooraj ke haathon sukha lo Aleph
Pighal jaaiga mom ban kar abhi
Andhera hi achha bujha lo Aleph
Lagee hai to basti ko jal jaane do
Magar ho sake to bacha lo Aleph
2
Save me now from this disgrace, Aleph
Put me in the pan, boil Aleph
If the body slides in Bey
Be at the banks, salvage Aleph
It will bump into something
Go into open, toss Aleph
None keeps company in bad times
Let one save one’s own Aleph
Don’t even bother whose it is
If found lying, grab Aleph
Water is but melted ice
Go to the sun, dry Aleph
It will melt like wax in a while
It’s better dark, put out Aleph
Let the village burn, if it burns
If you may save, save Aleph
49
Shahryar
Shahryar (1936–2012), poet, academic and film lyricist, was born Kunwar Akhlaq Mohammad Khan in Aonla, Uttar Pradesh. He received his early education in Bulandshahr, before joining Aligarh Muslim University for higher studies. He began his professional career with Anjumn Tarraqi Urdu, and then left it to join his alma mater as a faculty member. Shahryar built up his reputation as an academic and poet, who later wrote some memorable lyrics for films without ever compromising with his literary criterion or taste. He also edited Sher-O Hikmat, a literary journal of lasting value, with another academic fellow, Mughni Tabassum. Shahryar’s popularity with both literary and common readers kept him in the forefront for decades. He received the Sahitya Akademi Award as also the most prestigious Jnanpeeth Award.
Shahryar’s poetry is marked by a sense of bewilderment and intellectual curiosity. With an acute sensitivity to the classical forms of ghazal writing, he evolved an idiom for his compositions through an artful absorption of traditions, rather than an outright denial of older values. He is considered to have contributed significantly to the development of the short poem in Urdu, marked by metaphoric precision and linguistic ease. His five collections, Ism-e Aazam, Saatwaan Dar, Hijr Ke Mausam, Khwaab Ka Dar Bund Hai and Neend ki Kirchein, are witness to his gradual growth from a poet of seemingly simple apprehensions of life to a writer with a deep philosophical understanding of life as a phenomenon. Shahryar’s collections have also appeared in Devanagari script that bear witness to his popularity among Hindi readers.
1
Zindagi jaisi tawwaqo thi naheen, kuchh kam hai
Har ghadi hotaa hai ehsaas kaheen kuchh kam hai
Ghar ki taameer tasawwur hi mein ho sakti hai
Apne naqshe ke mutaabiq ye zameen kuchh kam hai
Bichhde logon se mulaaqat kabhi phir hogi
Dil mein ummeed to kaafi hai, yaqeen kuchh kam hai
Ab jidhar dekhiye lagtaa hai ke is dunya mein
Kaheen kuchh cheez ziyaada hai kaheen kuchh kam hai
Aaj bhi hai teri doori hi udaasi ka sabab
Ye alag baat ke pehli si naheen kuchh kam hai
1
Life is not as I thought; somewhere, something less
A feeling lingers, there’s somewhere, something less
I can surely make a house but only in my dreams
I surely have a map but the space somewhat less
Those who have parted now will surely someday meet
I’ve enough hope in heart but the faith somewhat less
Wherever you look, the world would look uneven
Something somewhere more, somewhere something less
Even today, I’m sad you’ve gone so far away
But not as ever, my sadness is somewhat less
2
Zakhmon ko rafoo kar lein dil shaad karein phir se
Khwaabon ki koee dunya aabaad karein phir se
Muddat hui jeene ka ehsaas naheen hota
Dil un se taqaaza kar bedaad karein phir se
Mujrim ke katahre mein phir hum ko khada kar do
Ho rasm-e kohan taaza faryaad karein phir se
Ai ahl-e junoon dekho zanjeer hue saai
Hum kaise unhein socho aazaad karein phir se
Ab jee ke bahalne ki hai ek yahi soorat
Beeti huee kuchh baatein, hum yaad karein phir se
2
Let’s stich our wounds, let’s make merry once again
Let’s find a world of dreams, let’s roam it once again
It has been long since I have felt I am alive
Let my heart make a plea, find a way once again
Stand me in dock again, let me pray for mercy
Let those rites follow, let them follow once again
Crazy friends! The chains have now turned to shadows
How can I set them free, how can I, once again?
That’s the only way for my heart to seek its cheer
Recall the days gone by and ruminate once again
50
Saqi Farooqi
Saqi Farooqi (1936–2018) was born Qazi Mohammad Shamshad Nabi in Gorakhpur, Uttar Pradesh, from where his family migrated to Bangladesh in 1947, before settling in Pakistan in 1950. A resident of a new world in an age of consequential transformations, Farooqi moved to London in 1958 to work as a computer programmer, although he represents the movements of life and times as a diasporic poet and prose writer of great merit.
Farooqi’s individuality lies in his experimentation with the Urdu language, the traditional line lengths of the Urdu verse and the stereotypical rhythm of Urdu diction. Further, he found a new form for these experimentations in a complete denial of the existing form of Urdu poetry. Both his poetry, and remarkably fresh prose, may best be read as narratives free of the drama and melodrama of life. Saqi turns futuristic quite often, as he goes beyond the limits of the modern and the postmodern. He uses language intuitively to incorporate the fragmentary conditions of his time. He turns anecdotal and reflective by turns, representing the mundane and the philosophical in the complex kaleidoscope of his poetry. This iconoclast of the new Urdu nazm and ghazal, has strengthened his poetry with unusual perceptions of the world and the text. This is amply illustrated by his curiously titled collections, Radar, Zindaa Paani Sacchaa and Surkh Gulaab Aur Badr-e Muneer.
1
Wo log jo zinda hain mar jaaenge ik din
Ik raat ke raahi hain guzar jaaenge ik din
Yoon dil mein uthhi lehr yoon aankhon mein bhare rung
Jaise mere haalaat sanwar jaaenge ik din
Dil aaj bhi jalta hai usee tez hawa mein
Ai tez hawa! Dekh bikhar jaaenge ik din
Yoon hai ke ta’aaqub mein hai aasaaish-e dunya
Yoon hai ke muhabbat se bikhar jaaenge ik din
Yoon hoga ke un aankhon se aansoon na bahenge
Ye chaand sitare bhi theher jaaenge ik din
Ab ghar bhi naheen ghar ki tamanna bhi naheen hai
Muddat huee socha tha ke ghar jaaenge ik din
1
All those who live now will die one day
Travellers of a night will fly one day
My heart has waves, my eyes have colours
As if I’ll look up, show high one day
Brusque wind burns my heart even now
Brusque wind! I will overfly one day
The world’s luxuries follow me on
Love will test me now and try one day
May be those eyes don’t roll down any tears
May be the stars and moon defy one day
Neither a home, nor a desire for home now
But the desire may intensify one day
2
Log the jinki aankhon mein andesha koee na tha
Main jis shehr se guzra us me zindaa koee na tha
Cheezon ke
ambaar lage the khalq-e Khuda aaraam se thi
Aur mujhe ye ranj wahaan afsurda koee na tha
Hairaani mein hoon aakhir kis ki parchhaaeeen hoon
Wo bhi dhyan mein aaya jis ka saaya koee na tha
Chaunk pada jab yaadon mein us ki aawaaz suni
Bus apni hi goonj thi mujh mein warnaa koee na tha
Main jis khauf mein tha us mein kuchh aur bhi qaidi the
Main jis khwaab mein tha us mein darwaaza koee na tha
2
Such were the people, their eyes showed no sorrow, none
I passed by the city, there was no one alive, none
All around was God’s plenty, God’s people lived in peace
My only worry: there was no one sad there, none
Whose shadow am I, I don’t know, I’m all baffled!
Even he figured in thoughts who had no shadow, none
I was amazed when that voice echoed in memory
That was surely my own voice, no one else’s, none
A fear had engulfed me; it had caught others too
I was in a dream and the dream had no exit, none
51
Nida Fazli
Nida Fazli (1938–2016) was born Muqtada Hasan in the city of Delhi, where one of his ancestors had migrated from a place called Fazila in Kashmir. He chose Nida as his pen name and added Fazli after his ancestral home. He received his education in Gwalior, and found his source of livelihood in Bombay as a lyricist. Fazli was a poet, memoirist, and a sensitive commentator on poetry and poets. He earned several awards and gained considerable popularity among both Urdu and Hindi speakers, unlike many of his contemporaries who remained confined to one language.
The most striking feature of Fazli’s poetry lies in his ability to exploit the spoken-ness of the spoken word. He drew upon people’s language and blended it with the literary traditions of the Sufi-bhakti poets. Rural and urban ladscapes, small hopes and big fears, as well as the loss and retrieval of values, engaged him endlessly. His poetry speaks at a one-to-one level and develops an intimate rapport with the reader, who seems to be close by and listening to the poet intently. Fazli’s poetry is dialogic and dramatic in his style of speaking and keeps away from complicated phrasing for his philosophical outpourings. These are amply reflected in his anthologies, memoirs, and even his responses to poetry and poets. Lafzon Ka Pull, More Naach, Aankh Aur Khwaab Ke Darmiyaan, Safar Mein Dhoop To Hogi, Khoya Hua Sa Kuchh, Mulaaqaatein and Deewaron ke Beech distinguish him for these merits.
1
Insaan mein haiwaan yahaan bhi hai wahaan bhi
Allah nigahbaan yahaan bhi hai wahaan bhi