Faiz – Na gavaon navak-e-neemkash

This ghazal of Faiz Ahmed Faiz is beyond translation but I am attempting it nevertheless. The poem is a statement of politics and struggle of his times.

न गवाओं नावके-नीमकश, दिले रेज़ा रेज़ा गवाँ दिया
जो बचे हैं संग समेट लो, तने दाग़ दाग़ लुटा दिया

मेरे चारगर को नवेद हो सफे दुशमनों को खबर करो
जो वो कर्ज़ रखते थे जान पर वो हिसाब आज चका दिया

करो कज़ ज़बीं पे सरे कफन मेरे कातिलों को गुमां न हो
कि गुरूरे इश्क का बाँकपन पसे मर्ग हमने भुला दिया

उधर एक हर्फ की कुश्तनी यहाँ लाख उज्र था गुफ्तनी
जो कहा तो सुनके उड़ा दिया जो लिखा तो पढ़ के मिटा दिया

जो रुके तो कोहे गराँ थे हम जो चले तो जाँ से गुज़र गये
रहे यार हमने कदम कदम तुझे याद ग़ार बना दिया

-फैज़ अहमद फैज़

Why waste your half-drawn arrows? My broken heart is already in pieces
save the leftover stones; my body is already wasted with innumerable bruises

Inform my healer, go to the army of my enemies, and say
he whose soul was indebted has settled all his debt today

Keep the shroud on my head today, my murders should not have any misgivings
that I forgot the pride of being in love on my way to death (or after death)

They had just one word, and I had lakhs to explain as excuses (of my deeds)
When I told (you) did not pay attention, when I wrote, (you) read and erased them

When I stopped, I was a like a mountain, when I walked, I walked past life itself
Every step of the path I tread I have made a memorial of my beloved.

मरीचिका

मरीचिका

हर तूफान के बाद

लहलहने लगती है सुहाने सपनों सी

बुलाने लगती है पास, और पास अपने

पाँव निर्थरक ही बढ़ उठते हैं उस ओर

पर वह परे हटती जाती है

और खो जाती है

रेत के एक और अंधड में

फिर कभी किसी तूफान के बाद

आस दिलाने के लिये

Still I Rise

This is a poem by Maya Angelou that I *had* to record on my blog. Rarely does one gets to read expressions like these.

 

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise
I rise
I rise.

 

—Maya Angelou

 

मिथ्या

मिथ्या
घुंघरू के मध्यम बोलों ने
कुछ कहा फुसफुसाकर
गुनगुनाकर फिर होठों ने
हौले हौले माहौल बनाया
और तुम्हारी आँखों की गहराइयों में
मैने अपने आप को
डूबते, उतराते, मदमाते पाया

जाने कब हुयी सुबह
सूर्य किरण ने घटाओं से झांक कर देखा
घुंघरू के बोलों का तीव्रतर हो थम जाना
होठों पर छिडे तरानों का कंठ ही में घुल जाना
आँखों की विशाल गहराई का
पलकों के भीतर छुप जाना
और टूटना एक स्वपन का

या मुझे अफसरे शाहा न बनाया होता – ज़फर

Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal king was also a poet. Though his literary standing was not as high as as his Ustad (Mohd. Ibhrahim Zauk) or his contemporaries Ghalib and Momin; his writings are much respected and appreciated. Zafar was a king (though in British raaj his kingdom did not extend beyond the red fort) and a freedom fighter.

This ghazal is one of his finest works specially when you read it in context to India’s freedom struggle and a helpless (and impotent when it came to doing anything for his country and men) king’s sentiments.

या मुझे अफसरे शाहा न बनाया होता
या मेरा ताज गदाया न बनाया होता

खाकसारी के लिए गरचे बनाया था मुझे
काश संगे-दरे-जाना न बनाया होता

नशा-ए-इश्क का गर ज़र्फ दिया था मुझको
उम्र का तंग न पैमाना बनाया होता

रोज़ मामूरा-ए-दुनिया में खराबी है ‘जफर’
ऐसी बस्ती से तो वीराना बनाया होता

अफसरे शाहा – शहंशाह
गदाया – भीख में मिला हुआ
खाकसारी – नम्रता, politeness
संगे-दरे-जाना – महबूब के दरवाज़े का पत्थर
ज़र्फ – योग्यता
तंग -छोटा, पैमाना – नाप actual meaning of paimana is wine goblet
मामूरा – शहर

A rude naval officer !!!

I know I will be castigated and made to walk the plank for the title! Fact is that the term ‘rude naval officer’ is an oxymoron, an anomaly. The officer may hurl the choicest expletives and epithets in the work environment or at a stag party of batch mates but in a social environment, he is an epitome of dignity and grace – the quintessential gentleman. As a matter of fact, most naval officers can put the knights to shame in matters of chivalry and even compete victoriously with the ‘nazakat’ of Lucknavi nawabs. So it was rather surprising when we – self and wife – did happen to run into a rude naval officer.

Once upon a time, in the bygone decade of 90s, yours truly was posted to Mumbai. We were staying in the Officer’s transit accommodation pending allotment of a house. My wife was in the family way – in her last trimester. I was posted onboard a ship which sailed frequently but then, this was not a bother since we were staying in the cocooned safety of naval environment. The naval community is close knit and there is never a dearth of assistance.

Meticulous planning is the hallmark of a naval officer! So I had studied the delivery date given by the Gynecologist and planned my annual leave so as to optimize my home stay post baby’s arrival. Any layman would immediately point out the flaw in my ‘meticulous’ planning – it was based on the assumption that my wife delivers the baby on the exact date predicted by the Gynecologist. So, my wife’s going into labour coincided with my ship being at sea!

The wise and the old amongst us may recall a world sans mobiles. In the early 90s, there were these ubiquitous black telephone instruments which were highly temperamental. Unable to get in touch with any friend, she went down the mess parking area looking for someone to give her lift to Asvini, the naval hospital. She found a young naval officer standing next to a car and requested him for a drop to the hospital which is less than a kilometer away. Ordinarily, such request would have elicited a response marked with alacrity and concern. But horror of horrors, the officer actually demurred. He seemed reluctant and tried to stall the trip. He even suggested that at times the labour pains are false and hence there is no urgency to go to the hospital. After a bit of politeness and time, my wife’s patience was running thin and she demanded that she be dropped to the hospital immediately.  The officer reluctantly went over to the driver’s seat, started the car and drove slowly to the hospital. After what seemed like an eternity and zillion jerks, they reached the hospital. My wife was whisked away to the maternity ward. We never met this officer again for a long time and so, I could not, out of politeness, express my gratitude. At the same time, we were appalled at the indifference shown by him.

About 5 years later, we were posted to Goa. We ran across this officer at a naval party. This time, the officer shed his reluctance and proactively came to meet us. After the usual small talk, he turned to my wife and said “ Ma’am , I am sorry about that day. Actually it was not my car. And I had never driven a car before in my life so I was petrified to drive one – that too with you inside”

My love

Tarique writing to his then girlfriend
Tarique writing to his then girlfriend
Your carefree
laughter
and the joy
that adorns your face
takes away
the darkest of
my fears

The smile
that begins
as a sparkle
in your eyes
reaches your tender lips
makes me feel warm
all over
and so loved

Thank you, my love
for loving me
the way you do
I can not even
begin to imagine
my life without you.

जीवन समिधा

आज फिर तुम्हें देखकर खयाल आया
कि हमारे बीच ये कैसा नाता है
जिसे तोड़ना मुनासिब नहीं
इस लंबे सफर में
मेरे हमकदम –
हम ज़रूर कुछ देर रुक जातें है
किसी मकाम पर
मगर फिर निकल पड़ते हैं
अगले पड़ाव को …
इक दूसरे के सहारे बिना
हम क्या करेंगे
मेरे हमसफर, मेरे हमइनाँ
जब किसी दिन किसी एक की
जीवन समिधा चुक जायेगी ?

Dr. Zarina Sani, my Ammi.

http://www.zarinasani.org goes live today. It is a website about mother-in-in law, Dr. Zarina Sani’s literary works.

I find it difficult to describe the range of emotions I went through while creating this site. I smiled, laughed, cried and marveled at the way she expressed herself. Through her writings I even got a glimpse of my husband’s childhood (मेरा फनकार)

Never having met her, I only knew her through my husband, Tarique , my brother-in-law Nadeem and the others in the family. My father-in-law would talk a lot about her to me and he regularly read out the poems she wrote. So I knew her as a wife, a mother, a sister and an aunt.

When I got a chance to go through her writings first hand, her poetry, her stories and her books, I discovered the woman in her. A strong, positive woman, deeply attached to her roots, family and beliefs. Her poetry touched me – she wrote from her heart and about the matters close to her heart; be it her children, her country, her love or her relationships.

Today would have been her 75th birthday; I have transcribed and put on her website 56 of her published poems. It will be my endeavor to keep updating the website often. I will update the poems with meanings of difficult words, will post some of the stories she had written and will publish online her literary works on Safdar Aah Sitapuri, Seemab Akbarabadi, Sadat Hasan “Manto” and Zia Fathehabadi.

Today, Through her poetry I am sharing her eclectic world with the world. I miss you, Ammi, but I also know that your blessings will always be with your children.

तू अपने जैसा अछूता खयाल दे मुझको

तू अपने जैसा अछूता खयाल दे मुझको
मैं तेरा अक्स हूँ अपना जमाल दे मुझको

मैं टूट जाउँगी लेकिन झुक न सकूंगी कभी
मजाल है किसी पैकर में डाल दे मुझको

मैं अपने दिल से मिटा दूंगी तेरी याद मगर
तू अपने ज़ेहन से पहले निकाल दे मुझको

मैं संगे कौह की मांनिंद हूँ न बिखरूंगी
न हो यकीं जो तू उछाल दे मुझको

खुशी खुशी बढ़ूं खो जाऊं तेरी हस्ती में
अना के ख़ौफ से “सानी” निकाल दे मुझको

— ड़ा. ज़रीना सानी

अक्स – प्रतिबिंब /reflection
जमाल – सौंर्दय /beauty
पैकर – िजस्म / body (here it means mould)
संगे कौह – पहाड़ का पत्थर / stone (here it means strong as a stone)
अना – अहंभाव /ego

 

This Ghazal was published in “Kaumiraj” (date not known)