There must be something quite strange, I’m sure
Let none make a boat—that’s a command for all
Surely, a sea hides by city’s shore, I’m sure
Respect the poor migrant, respect his heart and soul
He’s homeless but has a lineage to show, I’m sure
The way the house is kept, he has come to guess
Surely, someone else lives here now, I’m sure
2
Tark-e baada hai aur lambi raat
Aab-e saada hai aur lambi raat
Meri aankhein hain aur diyon ki qataar
Tera waada hai aur lambi raat
Odh kar so raha hoon khaali jaam
Kam libaada hai aur lambi raat
Gul hua maikade ka sadr chiraagh
gham ziyaada hai aur lambi raat
Sub’ha dam wo dikhaayi de ke na de
Ek iraada hai aur lambi raat
Ek mahal ki ghulaam gardishon mein
Shaahzaada hai aur lambi raat
Aaj gaur-e kabirul aulia per
Peerzaada hai aur lambi raat
2
This vow of abstinence and this long night
Plain water for a drink and this long night
Here, my eyes and there, a row of lamps
Thoughts of your promise and this long night
The cup is empty, I live with this cup
Not much to live by and this long night
The prime lamp of the tavern is put out
So much to grieve on and this long night
She may show up the next morning, she may not
To live with a flaming desire and this long night
In the waiting lounge of a grand palace
A prince in waiting and this long night
On the tomb of a master saint tonight
The tomb-keeper alone and this long night
60
Perveen Shakir
Perveen Shakir (1952–1994) was born in Karachi, Pakistan. She acquired two master’s degrees in English Literature and English Linguistics from the University of Karachi, in 1972 and 1980 respectively. Following this, she received a Fulbright Scholar-in-Residence Teaching Scholarship at the University of Hartford, USA in 1990, and a master’s degree in Public Administration from the John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard (USA) in 1992. She also did a six-week Management Information System course from Lahore University. Shakir joined as an English faculty in 1973, before joining the Pakistani civil services to work in a number of important positions. She had a long list of eighteen certificates and awards to her credit, in recognition of her talent as a poet, academic and administrator. She also received five awards posthumously. Her distinguished career came to an end when her car met with an accident in Islamabad, from which she could not survive.
Shakir was essentially a poet of romantic disposition. She wrote of aspirations and despair. She spoke in a personal voice without assuming a persona which imparted an immediacy of appeal to her poetry. She was also concerned with social dichotomies, taboos, gender issues and other social discriminations. All these are reflected in her work with equal honesty. Her collections include Khushboo, Sadbarg, Khudkalaami and Inkaar, which were collected together in Maah-e Tamaam during her lifetime. Her last book of poems, Kaf-e Aaeena, was published posthumously. Her newspaper columns were put together in Gosha-i Chashm.
1
Poora dukh aur aadha chaand
Hijr ki shab aur aisa chaand
Din mein wahshat bahal gaee thi
Raat huee aur nikla chaand
Kis maqtal se guzra hoga
Itna sehma sehma chaand
Yadon ki aabad gali mein
Ghoom raha hai tanha chaand
Mere karwat pe jaag uthhe
Neend ka kitnaa kachcha chaand
Mere munh ko kis hairat se
Dekh raha hai bhola chaand
Itne ghane baadal ke peechhe
Kitna tanha hoga chaand
Aansoo roke noor nahaai
Dil darya tun sehra chaand
Itne raushan chehre per bhi
Sooraj ka hai saaya chaand
Jub paani mein chehra dekha
Tu ne kis ko socha chaand
1
My pain is full but only half the moon
Such a night of parting and such a moon!
My madness was much tamed in daytime
But when the night came appeared the moon
Which ghastly gallows it must have passed by
This moon, such a scared, nervous moon
In the lanes, alive with blissful memories
Wanders alone a cheerless, gloomy moon
It wakes up when I turn from side to side
So very light of sleep, the delicate moon
That innocent one, that childish moon
Behind such thick and dark clouds
How lonely would be the moon
Holding tears, washed in beams of light
Heart—a brook, a body—a desert-moon
Even on such a glowing, radiant face
Only a shadow of the sun—the moon
When you saw your face in clear water
Tell me truly who did you think of, moon?
2
Tera ghar aur mera jungle bheegata hai saath saath
Aisi barsatein ke baadal bheegata hai saath saath
Bachpane ka saath hai, phir aik se dono ke dukh
Raat ka aur mera aanchal bheegata hai saath saath
Wo ajab dunya ke sub khanjar bakaf phirte hain aur
Kaanch ke pyalon mein sandal bheegata hai saath saath
Barish-e sang-e malaamat mein bhi wo hamraah hai
Main bhi bheegoon khud bhi paagal bheegata hai saath saath
Ladkiyon ke dukh ajab hote hian, such us se ajeeb
Hans rahi hain aur kaajal bheegata hai saath saath
Barishein jaade ki aur tanha bahut mera kisaan
Jism aur eklauta kambal bheegata hai saath saath
2
Both your home and my jungle get wet together
Such heavy rains, all the clouds get wet together
They are the cohorts of childhood; their pains are the same
The scarves of night and that of mine get wet together
What a bizarre world! There they move with daggers in hand
In the glass bowls, the sandalwoods get wet together
He was with me no matter what curse, what blight
I get wet, that crazy one too gets wet together
The pains of girls are strange; their truths stranger
Both their chuckles and their kohl get wet together
The winter rains and the poor peasant all alone
His lonely body and only blanket get wet together
61
Ishrat Afreen
Ishrat Afreen (1956–) was named Ishrat Jehan at her birth in Karachi, Pakistan. She studied there and acquired her BA and MA degrees in Urdu Literature. She started her professional career as an assistant editor of Aawaaz (Karachi), then edited by the eminent poet, Fehmida Riaz. Her poetry was featured on Radio Pakistan. She shifted to India after her marriage and later went to the United States of America, where she remained associated with teaching at the University of Texas, Austin, in its Hindi–Urdu Flagship Programme. Later, she moved to Karachi.
Afreen is one of those prominent poets whose work engages with the issues of women in Pakistan. Her poetry draws upon a private hinterland of the local flora and fauna with which she identified intimately and which included simple folks, open fields, food grains, the blowing wind and a kind earth. She also wrote of her diasporic longings for a home left behind. Her vocabulary is distinct and her turns of phrase spell out her affiliations to her personal and political space. Afreen has two collections to her credit—Kunj Peele Phuloon Kaa and Dhoop Apne Hisse Ki.
1
Ladkiyaan maaon jaise muqaddar kyun rakhti hain
Tan sehra aur aankh sam
undar kyun rakhti hain
Auratein apne dukh ki wiraasat kis ko dengi
Sandooqon mein bund ye zewar kyun rakhti hain
Wo jo aap hi pooji jaane key laayaq theen
Champa si poron mein pathhar kyun rakhti hain
Wo jo rahi hain khaali pet aur nange paaon
Bacha bacha ker ser ki chaadar kyun rakhti hain
Band haveli mein jo saanahe ho jaate hain
Un ki khabar deewarein aksar kyun rakhti hain
Subh-e-wisaal ki kirnein hum se poochh rahi hain
Raatein apne haath mein khanjar kyun rakhti hain
1
Why do the girls share their fates with their mothers, why?
Why are their bodies all wilderness, eyes all ocean, why?
Who would these women make the lasting heirs of their pain?
Why do they keep gems and jewels hidden in a vault, why?
Once, they were the ones fit to be revered but now
Why do they keep pebbles in champa limbs, why?
They survived empty stomach, bare feet but now
Why do these women save their head-covers, why?
Dark plots often thicken in the well-guarded palaces
Why do the walls keep secrets in their chests, why?
The first rays of the dawn of union ask me now:
Why do the nights keep swords in their hands, why?
2
Jinhein ki ‘umr bhar suhaag ki duaaein dee gaeen
Suna hai apni choodiyaan hi pees kar wo pee gaeen
Bahut hai ye rawaayaton ka zahr saari ‘umr ko
Jo talkhiyaan hamaare aanchalon mein baandh dee gaeen
Kabhi na aisi fasl mere gaaon mein hui ke jab
Kusum ke badle chunriyaan gulaab se rangee gaeen
Wo jin ke pairahan ki khushbuein hawa pe qarz theen
Ruton ki wo udaas shaahzaadiyaan chali gaeen
Un ungliyon ko choomana bhi bid‘atein shumaar hon
Wo jin ke khaakh per numoo ki aayatein likhi gaeen
Saron ka ye lagaan ab ke fasl kaun le gaya
Ye kis ki khetiyaan thheen, kis ko saunp dee gaeen
2
All prayers for their happy union for all life
But also a drink of crushed bangles for all life
Enough, this curse of customs for all life
Enough bitterness tied to our robes for all life
We never had such a crop in our village, never
Not safflower but roses dyed our scarves for all life
The breeze owed us the fragrance of her robes but
The sad princess of seasons vanished for all life
How can the kissing of those fingers look strange
On whose soil the songs of life were written for all life
Who robbed us of the toll of heads this season?
Whose crops were these, who got them all for all life?
62
Asad Badayuni
Asad Badayuni (1958–2003) was born Asad Ahmed in Badayun, Uttar Pradesh. Following the tradition of the past poets, he chose to append the name of his native place to his own name, as it was of great historical, cultural and literary significance to him. He received his early education in his hometown and worked at Aligarh Muslim University as an Urdu professor. He died there, following an illness.
Badayuni is a prominent voice among his contemporaries. He dwelt upon finite nature of life as well as the infinite nature of time, and sought his metaphors in the timelessness of history and the imperishability of cultural heritage. He developed his own mythologies to interpret time and space by annotating the prevalent meaning of pain and duplicity, dreams and despair, reality and fantasy. Strong visual and auditory imagination characterize his poetry. Badayuni published six collections of his poetry, namely, Gul-e Rangeen, Dhoop ki Sarhad, Khema-i Khwaab, Junoon Kinaara, Daastaani Ghazlein and Wara-i Sher. These were collected in his Kulliyaat posthumously. He also published five books of literary criticism.
1
Zameen se khalaa ki taraf jaaunga
Wahaan se Khuda ki taraf jaaunga
Bukhara-0 Baghdad-o Basra ke baad
Kisee karbalaa ki taraf jaaunga
Chaman se bulaawaa bahut hai magar
Main dasht-e balaa ki taraf jaaunga
Chamakta damakta nagar chhod kar
Phir us bewafaa ki taraf jaaunga
Rifaaqat ki raahon mein kuchh bhi naheen
Yahaan se jafaa ki taraf jaaunga
Badan ka muqaddar hai laahasilee
Main zehn-e rasaa ki taraf jaaunga
Agar main na aaghaaz mein mar gayaa
To phir intihaa ki taraf jaaunga
Chiraagh aarzoo ke jalaa kar kaee
Safeer-e hawaa ki taraf jaaunga
1
From the earth to space, I will set off
Then for God’s land of grace, I will set off
Past Bukhara, Baghdad and Samarkand
For a Karbala’s space, I will set off
Although the gardens beckon me much
For the country of disgrace, I will set off
Leaving behind the shining, gleaming towns
For my faithless love’s embrace, I will set off
Love has nothing to offer, nothing at all
Not to write love but to efface, I will set off
The body is set to dissolve in a void
For thought’s grandeur and grace, I will set off
If I don’t perish at the start itself
For the very last trace, I will set off
I will burn many a lamp of longing
Then for the wind’s base, I will set off
2
Meri ruswaayi ke asbaab hain mere ander
Aadmi hoon so bahut khwaab hain mere ander
Mere baahar nazar aaigi tujhe khaak hi khaak
Kaee jugnu kaee mehtaab hain mere ander
Wo bahaarein jo sar-e sat’h-e zameen khatm hueen
Dekh le aaj bhi shaadaab hain mere ander
Mujh ko sehra na samajh aur mere zaahir pe na ja
Kaee darya kaee taalaab hain mere ander
Maikade tak mujhe jaane ki zuroorat kya hai
Humnashinaan-e ma-i-naab hain mere ander
Mujh ko marne se bachaa to naheen sakte jaanaan
Zinda rahne ke jo asbaab hain mere ander
Sair kar too bhi ye majmoo’a pareshaani ka
Mujh se bichhde hue ahbaab hain mere ander
2
The reasons for my disgrace lie within me
I’m human, many a dream fly within me
Beyond me, it is all dust and ash, all around
Many a moon, many a firefly within me
Springs that perished from the face of this earth
Are all aglow in a sky within me
I’m no wilderness; don’t go by my looks alone
Many ponds and many streams ply within me
Why go to the tavern if my kindred kin
Drunk on pure wine are so high within me
You can’t save me from dying, you can’t, my love
Reasons to survive multiply within me
You too should pass through this fare of miseries
All dear, departed friends lie within me
63
Khursheed Akbar
Khursheed Akbar (1959–), who was named Mohammad Khursheed Alam, was born at Barbigha in Munger, Bihar. He acquired two master’s degrees in Political Science and in Urdu. Currently, Akbar is a senior member of the Bihar administrative service and lives in Patna.
Akbar carved a way for himself away from both the Progressive and the modernist poets. Sensitive perceptions of the physical and the spiritual, here and now, of the individual and the society clearly mark his poetry. He found space in his ghazals to reflect upon the alternating despairs and bliss of contemporary life. He appropriated ordinary speech to his purpose and charged it with greater vitality. Even while he respected the past traditions of writing, he tried to achieve a distance from them to arrive at a voice a
nd a style that was distinctly his own. His collections of poems include Samundar Khilaaf Rehta Hai, Badan Kashti Bhanwar Khwahish and Falak Pehloo Mein. He has a critical study titled Aik Bhasha, Do Likhaawat, Do Adab: Aik Tanqueedi Jaayeza to his credit. Akbar is also the honorary editor of the literary journal, Aamad.
1
Lakeeron se bandhi taqdeer gum sum
Hatheli ki har ek tadbeer gum sum
Faseel-e shahr per aayat luhoo ki
Quran-e dard ki tafseer gum sum
Kunware khwab ne odhee zaeefi
Hai aaeenon mein kyun hamsheer gum sum
Khanakte qahqahon ki bebasi per
Mere kamre mein ek tasweer gum sum
Ragon mein kaisi kaisi khalbali hai
Mere pehloo mein hai shamsheer gum sum
mezaajon mein wahi darbaar daari
Tapakti raal mein jageer gum sum
Dilon ki masjid-e wiraan mein Akbar
Azaan khaamosh hai takbeer gum sum
1
A fate tied to the lines of fate, lost
Every endeavour of the hand, lost
Verses in blood on the city’s frontiers
The meaning of pain’s testament, lost
The bachelor dreams have grown old now
Why in the mirror, the sister lost
On the helplessness of loud laughter
A photograph in my room looks lost
What a hubbub in the humming veins
By my own side, my own sword lost
In nature, just the same surrender
In temptation, all inheritance lost
In the deserted mosque of hearts, Akbar
Call for prayer silent, verse of prayer lost
2
Hukmaraani bayaan se baahar hai
Bebasee ab makaan se baahar hai
Dard ka zaaeqa bataoon kya
Ye ‘ilaaqa zabaan se baahar hai
Wo Madeena hai main mohajir hoon
Ye ta’alluq gumaan se baahar hai
Ek sajda hai apni marzi ka
Wo tere aastaan se baahar hai
Dhoop chaahe shadeed ho jitni
Aap ke saibaan se baahar hai
Aik muthhi zameen ki khwahish bhi
Sarhad-e aasmaan se baahar hai
Aakhri aadmi qabeele ka
Dekh, shahr-e amaan se baahar hai
Ek patta hai shaakh-e ‘uryaan per
Jo muraad-e khazaan se baahar hai
Kaun Khursheed ko kahe apna
Wo to dono jahaan se baahar hai
2
Power play goes beyond description
Helplessness wanders beyond a home
How to describe the taste of pain