Ai qaatilon ke shahr bus itni hi ‘arz hai
Main hoon na qatl koee tamaasha kiye baghair
Murshid ke jhoot ki to sazaa behisaab hai
Tum chhodiyo na shahr ko sehra kiye baghair
Un aanganon mein kitna sukoon-o suroor tha
Aaraaish-e nazar teri parwa kiye baghair
Girya kunan ki fard mein apna naheen hai naam
Hum girya kun azal ke hain girya kiye baghair
Aakhir hain kaun log jo bakhshe hi jaaenge
Taareekh ke haraam se tauba kiye baghair
1
I live on, but without ever making a plea
Without her, without even a desire for her
The rubbish became its veil of pride, my dear
Even the wall didn’t fall, without drawing a veil
Friends, she that is my messiah of love and life
I dearly love her, without her giving me a cure
I lie next to her on the grand couch of thoughts
To the eternal dawn, without making a claim
What all I have is her’s, only her’s, but I
I want but only her, without a bargain
This life! This life calls for a meaning indeed
I’ll make a promise, without meeting any
O city of assassins! Let me only urge
Let me not be killed, without me doing some fun
The penance for this guide’s lies is infinite indeed
Don’t you leave the town, without turning it to wild
How cool and blissful were those inner courtyards
O ornamented glance, without a care for you
My name does not figure in the list of mourners
I’m a timeless mourner, without ever mourning
Who are those after all to be granted forgiveness
Without a penitence for sinning against history
2
Jaao qaraar-e be dilaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Sehn hua dhuaan dhuaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Sham-e wisaal hai qareeb subh-e kamaal hai qareeb
Phir na rahenge sargaraan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Wajd karegi zindagi jism-ba-jism jaan-ba-jaan
Jism-ba-jism jaan-ba-jaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Ai mere shauq ki umang mere shabaab ki tarang
Tujh pe shafaq ka saaibaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Tu meri shaairi main hai rang taraaz gulfishaan
Teri bahaar be-khazaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Tera khayal khwab khawb khalwat-e jaan ki aab-o taab
Jism jameel-o naujawaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Hai mera naam arjumand tera hisaar sarbaland
Banu-i shahr-e jism-o jaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Deed se jaan-e deed tak dil se rukh-e umeed tak
Koee naheen hai darmiyaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Ho gaee dair jao tum mujh ko gale lagao tum
Tu meri jaan hai meri jaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
Sham bakhair shab bakhair mauj-e shamim-e pairhan
Teri mehak rahegi yaan shaam bakhair shab bakhair
2
Go away, patience of the heartless one; good evening, good night
The yard is wrapped in smoke all about; good evening, good night
The dusk of union is here; the dawn of perfection nearby
No longer would the smoke hang heavy; good evening, good night
Life will dance an euphoric dance, body by body, breath by breath
Body by body and breath by breath; good evening, good night
You, the zeal and zest of life; you, the cadence of my youth
May you rest in twilight’s tent; good evening, good night
You enliven my poetry, colour-spread, petal-blown
Your spring without an autumn; good evening, good night
Your thoughts, a fair of dazzling dreams, a shine of union
Body-beautiful, body-blazing; good evening, good night
My stature so exalted, your fences so head-high
Lady of soul’s and body’s city; good evening, good night
From eye to pupil of eye, from heart to brink of hope
There is none in-between; good evening, good night
It is late; you must leave now, come close, embrace awhile
You are my love—my life—my love; good evening, good night
Swing of her garment’s aroma; good evening, good night
Your whiff will stay all alive; good evening, good night
40
Ahmad Faraz
Ahmad Faraz (1931–2008) is the nom de plume of Syed Ahmad Shah, who was born at Kohat in Pakistan. He moved to Peshawar and acquired his master’s degrees in Urdu and Persian literatures. He later joined Peshawar University as a faculty member. In the subsequent years, Faraz worked as a radio producer. Along with his professional engagements, he also wrote poems with political leanings, which landed him in trouble during the regime of General Zia-ul-Haq. He spent some years in countries outside Pakistan and his reputation as an extremely popular poet travelled far beyond and reached new spaces. On his return home, he was appointed as the director general of Lok Virsa, the chairman of Pakistan Academy of Letters and also of National Book Foundation. Faraz earned three prestigious awards—Hilaal-e Imtiaaz, Sitaar-i Imtiaaz and finally, Hilaal-e Pakistan from the government of Pakistan.
Faraz is generally classed as a poet of romance, love and finer human passions, who expressed himself in soft, lyrical and dialogic modes. However, his poetry of protest is no less significant. His poetry has been widely translated and put to music. A prolific poet, he has left behind fourteen collections of his poetry: Tanhaa Tanhaa, Dard Aashob, Naayaaft, Khwaab-e Gul Pareshaan Hai, Bodlak, Shab Khoon, Mere Khwaab Reza Reza, Naabeena Shahr Mein Aaeena, Pus Andaaz Mausam, Jaanaan Jaanaan, Be-Awaaz Gali Kuchon Mein, Sab Aawaazein Meri Hain, Ghazal Bahaana Karoon and Ay Ishq Junoon Pesha. His major works were collected in Shahr-e Sukhan Aaraastaa Hai.
1
Jis samt bhi dekhoon nazar aata hai ke tum ho
Ai jaan-e jahaan ye koee tum sa hai ke tum ho
Ye khwaab hai khushboo hai ke jhonkaa hai ke pal hai
Ye dhund hai baadal hai ke saaya hai ke tum ho
Is deed ki saa’at mein kaee rang hain larzaan
Main hoon ke koee aur hai dunya hai ke tum ho
Dekho ye kisee aur ki aankhein hain ke meri
Dekhoon ye kisee aur ka chehra hai ke tum ho
Ye ‘umr-e gurezaan kaheen thhehre to ye janoon
Har saans mein mujh ko yehi lagta hai ke tum ho
Har bazm mein mauzoo-e sukhan dil zadagaan ka
Ab kaun hai, Shireen hai ke Laila hai ke tum ho
Ek dard ka phaila hua sehra hai ke main hoon
Is mauj main aayaa hua darya hai ke tum ho
Vo waqt na aai ke dil-e zaar bhi soche
Is shahr mein tanha koi hum saa hai ke tum ho
Aabaad hum aashuftaa saron se naheen maqtal
Ye rasm abhi shahr mein zinda hai ke tum ho
Ai jan-e Faraz itni bhi taufeeq kise thee
Hum ko gham-e hasti bhi gawaara hai ke tum ho
1
Wherever I look, I see only you
Love! Is that one like you, or only you
A dream, a fragrance, a whiff of air, a moment
Some mist, or cloud, or reflection, or only you
Many a shade shivers in a moment of your glimpse
Me, or someone else; this very world, or only you
See if they are someone else’s eyes, or only mine
See if this is someone else’s face, or only you
May this voyage of life stop; may I then surmise—
Every passing breath whispers: this is only you
In each assembly, the only words lovers repeat:
Is that Shireen, is that Laila, or only you?
Is that the wilderness of pain, or is that me?
A river in the course of surge, or only you
May
not the time come for my poor heart to ponder
Is that lonesome one, one like me, or only you
The altar isn’t aglow with the wild ones like us
What remains alive—this custom, or only you
Dear Faraz! None has the courage to bear but I
Bear all the pains of life for none, but only you
2
Is daur-e be-junoon ki kahaani koee likho
Jimson ko barf khoon ko paani koee likho
Koee kaho ke haath qalam kis tarah hue
Kyun ruk gaee qalam ki rawaani koee likho
Kyun ahl-e shauq sar-o garebaan hain dosto
Kyun khoon ba dil hai ahd-e jawaani koee likho
Kyun surma dar gulu hai har ek taair-e sukhan
Kyun gulsitaan qafas ka hai saani koee likho
Haan taazaa sanehon ka kare kaun intezaar
Haan dil ki waardaat puraani koee likho
2
The tale of the tamed times, let someone write
Body—ice, blood—water, let someone write
How were those hands chopped off, let someone say!
Why did the flowing pen stop, let someone write!
Why have the company keepers drawn apart now?
Why is the youth blood-smeared, let someone write!
Why is every bird sad and silent now?
Why is the garden like a cage, let someone write!
So, why should one wait for a fresh blow yet?
Just an old tale of heart, let someone write
41
Bani
Bani (1932–1981) was born Rajinder Manchada in Multan, but as the 1947 Partition pushed families across borders, young Bani too had to migrate and find a home in Delhi. He completed his education with a master’s degree in economics. He spent all his life teaching in a school in Delhi and pursuing the vocation of poetry passionately. He lived a life of disease and suffering, but showed unique perseverance to sustain all odds. He took care of his ill health to sustain his job for a living and pursue his vocation as a poet.
Bani broke fresh ground in writing his ghazals which had already been liberated from the romantic notions of love, life, and the stereotypes of art. He evolved a diction that was wholly new in its exploitation of the common speech. His metaphors were drawn from the world and the nature around, which he approached with complete clinical detachment. Two of his collections, Harf-e M’utabar and Hisaab-e Rang, were published during his lifetime, while the third one, Shafaq Shajar, was published posthumously. Bani also wrote prose and his works showed his fresh and critical perspective on some of his contemporary Urdu writers.
1
Hari sunehri khaak udaane waala main
Shafaq shajar tasweer banaane waala main
Khala ke saare rang sametne waali shaam
Shab ki mizha pe khwaab sajaane waala main
Fiza ka pehla phool khilaane waali sub’ha
Hawa ke sur mein geet milaane waala main
Baahar bheeter fasl ugaane waala too
Tere khazaane sadaa lutaane waala main
Chhaton pe baarish, door pahaadi, halki dhoop
Bheegne waalaa, pankh sukhaane waala main
Chaar dishaaein jab aapas mein ghul mil jaaein
Sannate ko dua banaane waala main
Ghane banon mein shankh bajaane waalaa too
Teri taraf ghar chhod ke aane waala main
1
Who blows the green and golden dust—none else but me
Who paints the glowing skies and boughs—none else but me
Who gathers the hues of the horizon—none else but dusk
Who decks the night’s eyelashes with dreams—none else but me
Who helps the first blossoms to life—none else but the dawn
Who sings a song to the wind’s tune—none else but me
Who fills the entire flora with life—none else but you
Who squanders all your treasures—none else but me
Rains on terrace, hills far off, and the sun so mild
Who soaks in rain, who dries up feathers—none else but me
When the four directions meet, when they merge in one
Who turns the frozen hush to prayer—none else but me
Who blows the conch shell in deep jungles—none else but you
Who leaves the abode and comes to you—none else but me
2
Ali bin Muttaqi roya
Wahi chup tha wahi roya
Ajeeb ashob irfaan mein
Fizaa gum thee ke ji roya
Yaqeen mismaar mausam ka
Khandar khud hi tahi roya
Azaan zeena utar aayi
Sukoot-e baatini roya
Khalaa har zaat ke undar
Sunaa jis ne wahi roya
Sehar dum kaun rotaa hai
Ali bin Muttaqi roya
2
Ali bin Muttaqi wept
Only he was silent, he wept
In painful dawn of wisdom
Climes were aghast, the heart wept
So, faith-broken, weather-worn
For their losses, the ruins wept
Prayers’ call came downstairs
Then the inner silence wept
A void inside every being
Whoever heard only wept
Who weeps at the dawn’s break but
Ali bin Muttaqi wept
42
Zafar Iqbal
Zafar Iqbal (1932–) was born in Bahawalnagar, Pakistan. He was a lawyer by profession but also served in between as the director general of the Urdu Science Board, Lahore. He emerged as one of the most prominent and unusual voices of the Urdu ghazal although his contribution has also been debated upon sometimes.
Iqbal dislodged the old values of poetry with a bang. One can say that his poetry emerged as an ultra-modernist variation on modernism that took time to be accepted as yet another way of writing. His innovations lay especially in the domain of diction. He developed a new poetic syntax at a time when poetry in Urdu had started making bold experiments with form and language. His experimentations went through phases of extremity and moderation, as he tried to test the limits of language and diction to contain the pressures of experiences that were more mundane than sublime and more rebellious than prescriptive. Iqbal’s first three collections, Aab-e Rawaan, Gulaaftab and Ratb-o Yaabis, earned him a reputation that strengthened further with the subsequent works. A prolific poet, he continued with his vocation, doing and undoing his poetic practices, and always exploring where his language and his material for poetry lay hidden. His works like Ratb-o Yaabis, Ghubaar Aalood Samton ka Safar, Aib-o Hunar, Atraaf and Wahm-o Gumaan bear testimony to the fertility of his imagination and creative talent. His poetry has been collected in four volumes under the title Ab Tak.
1
Milenge aur pareshaani rahegi
Isee se raunaq-e daryaa-i dil hai
Yehi ek lehar toofaani rahegi
Kabhi ye shauq naamaanoos hoga
Kabhi wo shakl anjaani rahegi
Nikal jaaegi soorat aaeene se
Hamaare ghar mein hairaani rahegi
Subuk sar ho ke jeena hai koee din
Abhi kuchh din giraan jaani rahegi
Sunoge lafz mein bhi phadphdaahat
Lahoo mein bhi pur afshaani rahegi
Hamaari garm guftaari ke baawasf
Hawaa itni hi barfaani rahegi
Abhi dil ki siyaahi zor per hai
Abhi chehre pe taabaani rahegi
Zafar main shahr mein aa to gayaa hoon
Meri khaslat bayaabaani rahegi
1
Well, this much would be welcome
We shall meet though remain glum
This stream would forever flow
Will keep the heart’s brook in glow
At times, a craving unknown
At times, that face will bemoan
The mirror will have no face to show
In this house wonders will grow
Life in disgrace, a while more
That is what lies in store
Even in words, a flutter
Blood’s gurgle would then utter
In spite of heated words twice
Winds will blow as cold as ice
Heart’s gloom grows more gloom still
Faces don’t show any chill
I’ve come to city, Zafar, though
My wild nature will remain so
2
Khaamshi achhee naheen inkaar honaa chaahiye
Ye tamaasha ab sar-e baazaar honaa chaahiye
Khwaab ki tabeer per israar hai jin ko abhee
Pehle un ko khwab se bedaar honaa chaahiye
Doob kar marna bhi asloob-e mohabbat ho to ho
Wo jo darya hai to usko paar honaa chaahiye
Ab wahi karne lage deedaar se aage ki baat
Jo kabhi kehte the bus deedaar honaa chaahiye
Dosti ke naam per keeje na kyunkar dushmani
Kuchh na kuchh aakhir tareeq-e kaar honaa chaahiye
Jhoot bola tha to qayam hi raho us per Zafar
Aadmi ko sahib-e kirdaar hona honaa chaahiye
2
Silence is no good, let there be a negation
Let this show be shown in an open location
If you insist to interpret the dreams’ numbers
You should first get out of your own slumbers
Dying drowned may be a lover’s cherished dream
If a river, he should cross over the stream
They once said that love’s glance would make the day
They now ask for so much more than they may
Why not be a foe in the garb of a friend?
Let there be a way to make an amend
If you spoke a lie, Zafar, stick to your lie
Men would do well, if they could only try
43
Ahmad Mushtaq
Ahmad Mushtaq (1933–) was born in Amritsar, India. He received his early education at home before joining school. Soon after he passed his ninth-standard examination, communal riots broke out. A month after the Partition, he migrated to Lahore from where he passed his matriculation examination. He developed a keen association with some of the poets and writers, during his visits to Pakistan Tea House, who later emerged as serious poets and men of letters in Pakistan. Mushtaq migrated to the United States of America at the age of fifty-one. He worked for the Chartered Bank until his retirement, and has continued living there since then.
Mushtaq’s poetry is a silent escape from traditional poetics. He drew upon commonplace images and feelings and described them in an idiom characteristically ordinary and commonplace. He looked at images and objects as they appeared, but added an element of surprise to them. His air, earth, water and sky, towns, houses, lanes and places, are all real, and he responds to them quite naturally. He makes no deliberate comments; he only narrates a common condition but shocks the reader with his strikingly different perception. His first two collections were entitled Majmua and Gard-e Mehtaab. His collected poems were published in Pakistan as Kulliyaat-e Ahmad Mushtaq after his migration to the US. These, along with his later works, were put into one volume and published in India titled Kulliyaat. Mushtaq has also edited a volume on Nasir Kazmi called Hijr ki Raat Ka Sitaara.