1
Ye kehna to naheen kaafi ke bus pyare lage hum ko
Unhein kaise bataaein hum ke wo kaise lage hum ko
Makeen the ya kisee khoee huee jannat ki tasweerein
Makaan is shahr ke bhule hue sapne lage hum ko
Hum un ko soch mein gum dekh kar waapas palat aai
Wo apne dhyan mein baithhe hue achhe lage hum ko
Bahut shaffaf the jab tak ke masroof-e tamanna the
Magar is kaar-e dunya mein bade dhabbe lage hum ko
Jahaan tanha hue dil mein bhanwar se padne lagte hain
Agarche muddatein guzreen kinaare se lage hum ko
1
Not enough to say how lovely she looked like
How shall I tell her now how good she looked like
They were dwellers, or images of lost heavens
Like the lost dreams, abodes of the city looked like
I saw her lost in deep thoughts, I withdrew myself
Lost in her own thoughts, I loved what she looked like
I was transparent when I nursed my dear dreams
I bore many a blot in life, a blot I looked like
When I get lonely, whirlpools ensnare my heart though
Long back I reached my shore and a torn one I looked like
2
Ye tanha raat ye gehri fizaaein
Use dhoondein ke us ko bhool jaaein
Khayaalon ki ghani khaamoshiyon mein
Ghuli jaati hain lafzon ki sadaaein
Ye raste rahrawon se bheegte hain
Yahaan chhup chhup ke chalti hain hawaaein
Ye paani khaamshi se beh raha hai
Ise dekhein ke is mein doob jaaein
Jo gham jalte hain sheron ki chita main
Unhein phir apne seene se lagaein
Chalo aisa makaan aabaad kar lein
Jahan logon ki aawaazein na aaein
2
This lonely night, this thick air around
Shall I look for her, or keep aground
In dense silence, thoughts don’t evolve
The tones of voice can only dissolve
These paths keep the passers-by at bay
Only in hiding the winds can play
This water flows quietly in silence
Shall I watch, or drown in silence
My pains burn on the pyre of verse
Let me embrace them, let me nurse
Let us go and enliven a house
Where no human voices can espouse
44
Mazhar Imam
Mazhar Imam (1933–2012) was born in Darbhanga, Bihar. Following his early education at home, he acquired a diploma from the Film and Television Institute of India, Pune. Later, he got his master’s degree in Urdu from Magadh University, Bodh Gaya, and also in Persian from Bihar University, Muzaffarpur. Imam began his professional career as a journalist, editing and writing for at least six publications, some of the more important ones being Kaarvaan and Azad Hind published from Calcutta. Relinquishing journalism, he became a schoolteacher for some time, and then joined the All India Radio. After working at several places, he retired as the Director, Doordarshan, from Kashmir. Finally, he settled down in Noida, where he breathed his last. Imam has been a recipient of several awards from literary and other organizations including the Sahitya Akademi.
Imam was aware of the traditions of Urdu poetry, including those propounded by the Progressive poets, which he respected while tracking his own route as a poet. He was a poet of romantic disposition but assessed the nature of modernist poetry with a critical eye. He found his space in the act of juxtaposing the past with the present, fancy with reality, contemporary idiom with the classical. In founding a new form for the ghazal called aazaad, or free ghazal, he made an innovative move against the very nature of the ghazal itself. His four collections of poetry are Zakhm-e Tamanna, Rishta Goonge Safar Ka, Pichhle Mausam Ka Phool and Bund Hota Hua Darwaaza. His ghazals have been collected in Paalaki Kehkashaan Ki Aati Jaati Lehrein, Azaad Ghazal Ka Manzarnama, Jameel Mazhari and Ek Lehar Aati Hui form his critical works. His sketches and memoirs are put together in Aksar Yaad Aate Hain.
1
Zindagi khwaahish-e baatil hai mera saath na chhod
Tu hi ek umr ka haasil hai mera saath na chhod
Log milte hain sar-e raah guzar jaate hain
Tu hi ek hamsafar-e dil hai mera saath na chhod
Tu ne socha hai mujhe tu ne sanwaara hai mujhe
Tu mera zehn mera dil hai mera saath na chhod
Tujh se hi garmi-e mehfil hai mera saath na chhod
Main ke biphre hue toofan mein hoon lehron lehron
Tu ke asooda-i saahil hai mera saath na chhod
Is rifaaqat ko sapar apni banaa lein jee lein
Shahr ka shahr hi qaatil hai mera saath na chchod
Ek main ne hi ugaai nahi khwaabon ke gulaab
Tu bhi is jurm mein shaamil hai mera saath na chhod
Ab kisee raah pe jalte nahi chaahat ke chiraagh
Tu meri aakhri manzil hai mera saath na chhod
1
What’s this life but a vain desire; don’t ever leave me alone
Who else but only you—my life’s worth—don’t ever leave me alone
People pass me by on the way; they pass me by to make their way
Who else but only you—my love—don’t ever leave me alone
You have spared me a thought; only you have made me what I am
Who else but only you—my head, my heart—don’t ever leave me alone
Where shall I burn all this night, where shall I ever go without you
Who else but only you—my life, my blood—don’t ever leave me alone
I’m there in each wave—only I’m there in the tempestuous seas
You have kissed the seashore though; don’t ever leave me all alone
Let this camaraderie be my shield, let me live this life in love
The towns around have turned unkind, don’t ever leave me alone
I have not nursed my dreams alone; you too have grown the same crop
As you have grown the same crop, don’t ever leave me alone
The paths of love are all deserted; the signs of love nowhere in sight
Who else but only you—my only goal—don’t ever leave me alone
2
(Aazaad Ghazal)
Saraasar us pe tuhmat hai ke us ne mujh se kuchh rishta nahi rakkha
Jahaan ke kaar-e gham bakhshe, mujhe tanha naheen rakhha
Tamaazat mehr-e imkaan ki kuchh itni khush murawwat thee
Shajar hum ne lagaaya ghar ke aangan mein, magar saaya naheen rakhha
Raheen bekhanamaan sub nekiyaan apni
Khuda ne mere raste mein koee darya naheen rakhha
Hamein sub rang us ke zahr lagte hain
Zamaane ko shikaayat hai ke hum ne apni aankhon per koee parda naheen rakhha
Samundar se guhar laana bahut mushkil na tha lekin
Hameen ne apni kashti ko jazeere se nikalne ka koee rasta naheen rakhha
Nashe mein khush gumaan-e sub’ha the itne
Kisi ne zakhm-e shub per aaj tak phaaha naheen rakhha
Ek anjaani sadaa kaanon se takraaegi
Diya le kar chale hum phir khayaal aaya ke hum ne ghar mein darwaaza naheen rakhha
2
(A free ghazal)
It’s a sheer blame that my love did not keep me company
She blessed me with many a pain, she did keep me company
The warmth of that care was so heart-warming
I grew a plant in my courtyard, but did not keep a shade for company
All my goodness was in vain
For my God didn’t keep a river on my way for company
I consider all her colours my eyes’ curse
The world complains: I didn’t keep a veil on my eyes for company
It wasn’t difficult to find a pearl from the seas
But for getting my boat out o
f the island, I didn’t keep a way for company
Those seekers of dawn were so drunk
For the night’s wound, no one ever kept a healing touch for company
An unknown voice struck my ears
I came with a lamp but remembered I hadn’t made a door in the house for company
45
Shakeb Jalali
Shakeb Jalali (1934–1966) was born Syed Hassan Rizvi at a small place called Jalali, near Aligarh, Uttar Pradesh. He passed his matriculation examination from Badayun, Uttar Pradesh. Following the Partition of India and the loss of his parents, he migrated to Rawalpindi with his sister. Jalali continued his education in Rawalpindi, Sialkot and Lahore to acquire his degrees upto the graduation level. He lived a life of economic deprivation and severe emotional stress. He worked for weekly and monthly journals to sustain himself. Unable to put up with his stress any further, Jalali committed suicide by lying down on a railway track in Sargodha at the age of thirty-two, leaving the literary world bereft of a voice that had every potential to hold a prominent place in the canon of modern Urdu poetry.
Jalali’s influence on the Urdu literary scenario, even five decades after his death, establishes him as a poet of lasting value. Elements of deprivation, pain, and man’s inability to reach a desired destination marked his poetry. He discovered a philosophical stance in portraying these sentiments, and spoke with a sense of pride and confidence, rather than loss and deprivation. His collections, Raushni Ai Raushni and Kulliyaat-e Shakeb Jalali, were published posthumously.
1
Gale mila na kabhi chaand bakht aisa tha
Hara bhara badan apna darakht jaisa tha
Sitaare siskiyaan bharte the os roti thi
Fasana-i jigar-e lakht lakht aisaa tha
Zaraa na mom hua pyar ki haraarat se
Chatakh ke toot gaya dil ka sakht aisa tha
Ye aur baat ke wo lub the phool se naazuk
Koee na seh sake lehja karakht aisa tha
Kahaan ki sair na kee tausan-e takhayyul pe
Hamein to ye bhi Sulaiman ke takht jaisa tha
Idhar se guzra tha mulk-e sukhan ka shahzaada
Koee na jaan saka saaz-o rakht aisa tha
1
The moon didn’t embrace me ever; I had no luck
My body was a lush tree but not moonstruck
The stars sobbed, the dewdrop shed a tear
My poor heart’s tale too was none of cheer
The warmth of pure love could never melt
The hardened heart cracked but never knelt
Lips more delicate than a flower petal
But her harsh tone showed its real mettle
I roamed on the wings of imagination
That was Solomon’s throne of high station
The prince of muses had passed this way
None could know who he was, none could say
2
Jahaan talak bhi ye sehra dikhaayi deta hai
Meri tarah se akela dikhaayi deta hai
Na itni tez chale sarphiri hawa se kaho
Shajar pe ek hi patta dikhaayi deta hai
Bura na maaniye logon ki aib jooee ka
Unhein to din ko bhi saaya dikhaayi deta hai
Ye aik abr ka tukda kahaan kahaan barse
Tamaam dasht hi pyasa dikhaayi deta hai
Wahein pahunch ke giraaenge badbaan ab to
Wo door koee jazeera dikhaayi deta hai
Meri nigaah se chhup kar kahaan rahega koee
Ke ab to sung bhi sheesha dikhaayi deta hai
Simat ke rah gaye aakhir pahaad se qad bhi
Zameen se har koee ooncha dikhaayi deta hai
Khili hai dil mein kisee ke badan ki dhoop Shakeb
Har aik phool sunehra dikhaayi deta hai
2
To the farthest end of wilderness, if you may see
Lonesome like me is this wilderness, if you may see
Tell the brusque wind, tell not to blow so very hard
That’s the only leaf on the bole, if you may see
Don’t ever feel so bad if people find faults with you
They see shadows even in daylight, if you may see
A single piece of cloud and many a cracked earth
Entire wilderness looks thirsty, if you may see
We shall fold our flags, but only when we reach there
There lies an island somewhere there, if you may see
Who can hide from my view, who can live in hiding
Now, the stone looks like a glass, if you may see
Even the tall ones that stood like mounts have shrunk
Now each one looks taller than earth, if you may see
Someone’s body’s radiance fills my heart, Shakeb
Now every blossom is aglow, if you may see
46
Zehra Nigah
Zehra Nigah (1935–) was born in Hyderabad, India, but she migrated to Pakistan following the 1947 Partition. She grew up in a distinguished family with a well-pruned taste for literature and culture. This gave her an opportunity to come across some major writers of the time, and take her first lessons in literature and literary writing quite early in life.
Inspired essentially by the Urdu classical poets, Nigah initiated her poetic career by writing the poetry of romantic themes with certain lyric grace. Soon, she distinguished herself for two basic reasons: first, her ability to voice female experiences, and second, her socio-political outlook which found fuller expressions in her ghazals and nazms. She also asserted her historical significance in the way she emerged as a powerful female voice, along with Ada Jafarey, at a time when women’s writing was placed on the margins. In making her aspirations known, she projected an alternative view of domesticity and femininity in a male-dominated literary space, which set a precedent. She viewed familial themes, images and personages from her own perspective, and expressed them in a diction that represented a clear female tone of voice. Her significance lies in the way she liberated the personal and the political, in and outside her country, and imparted them the authenticity of a poet’s vision. Nigah is widely considered an iconic female figure, who wrote poetry as well as scripts for TV serials, won awards, and made her place with her three collections, namely, Shaam Ka Pehla Taara, Waraq and Firaaq.
1
Der tak raushni rahi kal raat
Main ne odhi thi chandani kal raat
Aik muddat ke baad dhund chhati
Dil ne apni kahi suni kal raat
Ungliyaan aasmaan chhooti theen
Haan meri dastras mein thi kal raat
Uthh’ta jaataa tha pardai-i-nisyaan
Ek ek baat yaad thi kal raat
Taaq-e dil pe thi ghunghruon ki sada
Ek jhadi see lagi rahi kal raat
Jugnuon ke se lamhe ud’te the
Meri muthhi main aa gaee kal raat
1
The light stayed for long last night
I was wrapped in moonlight last night
The fog melted after a long time
And the heart told its tale last night
My fingers touched the sky high
The sky was in reach last night
Oblivion’s veil got lifted
I recalled each event last night
In heart’s alcove, jingle bells rang
There was a long drizzle last night
The moments flew as fireflies do
I got them in my fist last night
2
Is raah-e shikasta per aiwaan-e hukoomat kya?
Tukdon ki hai kya qeemat malbe ki hai wus’at kya?
Kaasa liye baithhe hon, maange pe guzaara ho
Ye naaz-e shuja’at kyun ye zaum-e hifaazat kya?
Haakim diye jaate hain ahkaam-e falatooni
Jab lafz hon behurmat aadaab-e ataa’at kya?
Haasil ke nahi saude baazar mein mandi hai
Chal ai dil-e kam maya phir teri bhi qeemat kya?
2
On a road so broken, what’s the seat of power?
&
nbsp; What’s the price of shreds, what’s the worth of rubbish?
If one sits with a begging bowl, if one lives on alms
What vanity in power, what pride in protection?
The rulers keep on tossing their noble commands
When words lack value, what manner obedience?
No worth of goods now; no worth in a slumped market
Move, my heart of meagre means, what worth are you?
47
Bashir Badr
Bashir Badr (1935–) is the nom de plume of Syed Mohammad Bashir, who was born in Ayodhya, a place that evokes historical and communal memories of great pride and pain. He received his MA and PhD in Urdu Literature from Aligarh Muslim University, where he also taught before joining Meerut College as a faculty member. Having suffered the onslaughts of communal riots when his house was burnt, he chose to relocate to Bhopal.
Badr shot into prominence in the 1970s, soon after the publication of his first collection of ghazals called Ekaayee. His voice was entirely new, his idiom colloquial and commonplace and his imagery effortlessly drawn from the life around. Young men and women, ecstasy and despair, enlivened his compositions. While he continued with his chosen material, he also made effortless experiments with the form of ghazal and gained further ground with his subsequent collections, Image, Aamad, Aasmaan and Aas. His mode of address, controlled yet sentimental, ensured an instant place for him in the popular imagination of his readers. He received awards from various literary organizations, travelled widely, in and outside India, to recite his ghazals at houseful mushairas in an inimitable style and sonorous voice. His works have been collected and published in Pakistan as Kulliyaat-e Bashir Badr. An academic all his life, Badr also published critical studies of Urdu ghazal since Independence and the modern ghazal of the twentieth century. A poet who ruled the mushaira and literary scenario for decades is now a victim of the Alzheimer’s disease.