Siyaah

Saiyaara

2011-12-29T18:16:00.000-08:00

Main akelaa hoon
Tumhaari yaadon mei akelaa hoon
Kis taraf chaloon
Ek taraf safed phoolon si bikhri tumhaari muskuraahatein
Jaise meelon door tak safed chaadarein
Aur is taraf tumhaare haath ki narmi
Badhte badhte ek baagh ban chuki hai
Hazaaron darakht hain, phalon se lade
Kya kho jaun in mei jaa kar
Ya udhar bhi ho lun
Tumhaari aakhon ki jheelon mei
Jinme duniyaa dikhai deti hai
Neele khule aasmaan
Aur meri zindagi
Dono ke aks hain wahaan
Tar hain jheelen phir kyun aaj
Kuchh der ruk hi letaa hoon udhar
Kuchh tishnagi mitaa letaa hoon
Pataa nahi wahaan se kab niklungaa
Idhar to kya kuchh baaqi hai abhi
Dard mei bhare wo raat din
Jab tum the hi nahi
Bin bataaye chale gaye the kahin
Unki bhi to yaadein hain
Kaanton bharaa ek bayaabaan
Dartaa hoon aaj bhi unse
Par jaana padta hai kabhi in mei bhi
Aakhir tumhaari hi to yaadein hain...

Hoton ki to baat na puchho
Jaise jumbish karte pyaare parindey
Kabhi baithen kabhi ud jaayen
Mujhe dekhte hi rehte hain
Main hiloon to ye hil jaate hain
Thodaa ghabraa ke paas aate hain
Ab bhi nahi jaante
Meraa hi chaman hai inkaa ghar
Kyun hijraton ko jaate hain
Inki ek ek chehchahaahat
Mausiqi ban ke goonjti rehti hai yahan kab tak...

Kya kuchh hai aur kya batlaun
Kuchh dekhaa, kuchh to maine bhi dekhaa nahi hai
Zulfon ke ghane andhere behte dariyaa
Kho jaane ko
Jabeenon ke maahtaab
Raah dikhaane ko
Til aise
Khatarnaak raahon pe sandeson jaise
Yahin ruk jaao
Aage mat jaana
Par aur mujhe bhadkaate hi hain
Un raaston pe kheench le jaate hi hain
Jahaan ki khaak bhi lage hai aise
Bikhre laale kabhi bhi khilne waale
Gulistaan hi gulistaan ta-hadd-e-nazar
Surkh phoolon se lade
Koi aur hi saiyaara hai shaayad
Yahaan to saanson ki raftaar hi alag hai...

Main kitnaa khush hoon in yaadon mei
In phoolon jheelon aur bayabaanon mei
Mujhe dhoondh lenaa jab bhi waapas aao
Main kahin nahi gayaa hoon aaj tak
Inhi mei kahin khoyaa hua milungaa
Kisi jheel kinaare baagh mei letaa
Parindon mei soyaa hua milungaa
Aa jao to jagaa denaa
Tab tak to nahi kuchh duniyaa mei meri
Is laayaq ke is jannat se niklun.

[By Siyaah]

----
Meanings
Tishnagi: thirst
Bayaabaan: wilderness
Hijraton: plural of hijrat, hijr = migration
Mausiqi: music
Jabeenon: plural of jabeen = forehead
Maahtaab: moon
Khaak: dust
Laale: tulips, in South Asia also refers to red poppy flowers
Gulistaan: flower garden
Ta-hadd-e-nazar: as far as the eye can see
Saiyaara: planet
Raftaar: speed
Jannat: garden, by implication means paradise

RIP Jagjit Singh

2011-10-10T11:22:00.000-07:00

In memory of Jagjit Singh, who played a major role in popularizing and keeping alive the ghazal and other poetic forms for several decades. Like many other listeners, Jagjit's choice of simpler yet beautiful ghazals was an important initiation point for me into the world of Urdu poetry. Looking for my earliest memories, I remembered this one today, from a compilation that was passed down (or rather, fell into my hands by chance) from an earlier generation.

Mohabbat aur Kahani: Saleem Kausar

2011-09-17T15:08:00.000-07:00

I was lucky to attend a live mushaira recently after quite a long time. The feeling of an interactive mushaira is quite amazing. Saleem Kausar was the last poet of the evening and recited some real gems. Here's a clip of the last two verses of his most famous ghazal:

But what really caught my attention was his "Mohabbat aur Kahaani", which I couldn't record, but found in a raw video elsewhere, here:

"Tumhein kaisay bataaein hum,
Mohabbat aur Kahaani mein koi rishtaa nahi hota,
Kahaani mein to hum waapas bhi aate hain
Mohabbat mein palatne ka koi rastaa nahi hota...
...
Kahaani ko kai kirdaar mil jul kar kahin aage chalaate hain,
Mohabbat apne kirdaaron ko khud aage barhaati hai..."

Naseeb

2011-08-20T00:04:00.000-07:00

Tere dard mein bhi qareeb nahi,
Aaj itna bhi naseeb nahi.

[by Siyaah]

Ek hi Siyaahi

2011-08-03T13:15:00.000-07:00

Wahi kehne lage deewaana jab se
Kya shikwa kare koi baaqi sab se

Hai kaisi wafaa ye aakhir tujhse
Hun bewafaa jaise duniya se jab se

Barson mein tumhe dekha to samjha
Kis toofaan ko tha thaame kab se

Kya maangun aakhir ab tujhse
Wo chand din hi geraan hain kab se
[geraan=heavy]

Aaj tumhe sach bola to laga yun
Sab jhooth tha umr bhar baaqi sab se

Koi manzil hi humein raas na aayi
Tum raah mein saath rahe na jab se

Har taabeer adhoori hi lagi
Tum hi khwaab the awwal sab se

Har dard mein yaad tumhi kyun aaye
Zakhm tum hi the gehre sab se

Ye kaisi tishnagi tere liye thi
Barhdti hi jaae mile ho jab se

Hai zyaada khushi ke aaj mile hain
Ya ghum ke bichhde hain hum kab se

Sab de dun tujh ko waapas le lun
Kaise karun ye sauda rab se

Roz tumhe socha to nahi par
Sab ghum aur khushi hain tere kab se

Ab phir se kya maangun main rab se
Tum to mere hi rahe ho tab se

Koi dard hi baaqi nahi daaman mein
Wo ghar waapas aaye hain jab se

Hai gunaah to kyun sohbat mein teri
Raabta bardhta jae hai rab se

Sab ek hi Siyaahi se likh daale
Aaghaaz-e-ashaar hua tumse jab se.

[By Siyaah]

Sukoon

2011-06-12T20:54:00.000-07:00

Koi sukoon mil hi nahi sakta;
Bas is hi baat se sukoon hai ab.

[by Siyaah]

Ab waapas jaane do

2011-05-30T18:22:00.000-07:00

Ab waapas jaane do
Dard mein waapas jaane do

Main kho sa gaya hoon khushion mein
Mujhe dard mein waapas jaane do

Main ab aadi hoon tanhai ka
Sab chhupaane ka, chup rahne ka,
Sab kuchh keh kar sab logon se
Kuchh bhi na kehne ka

Main kaise jiyunga tumse sab kuchh keh kar
Kehna bhi nahi aata hai ab to
Kaha hi nahi kisi se jo umr bhar
Kaise kahunga
Kehta bhi hoon to lagta hai
Kuchh keh hi nahi paa raha hoon jaise
Kuchh ghalat sa ho raha hai jaise
Koi yaad kisi baat ke kehne se
Kahin chhoo na jaae, bigard na jaae
Wo tasweeren dhundli zaroor hain ab
Par gehri bhi hain, dar lagta hai
Kuchh mit naa jaae, hil naa jaae

Main aadi nahin hoon yaadon ko
Kisi se kehne sunne ka
Tumse bhi nahi
Tumse to bilkul hi nahi
Tumhi to wo tasweer ho
Kahin hil naa jao, bigard na jao
Saalon ki mehnat se yaad rakha hai
Ab aise kaise kho doon tumko
Bas tumhare mil jaane se
Wo tum to hamesha se mere saath ho
Aur tum to abhi aaye ho waapas
Kuchh sabr karo
Saans lene do
Kuchh sochne do
Kuchh sehne do
Kuchh dar ko sambhaal lene do
Kuchh muafi maang lene do
Kuchh rehne do
Kuchh to rehne do

Ab mujhse hi tum khud ko kyun
Chheenne aaye ho
Kyun ye zulm mujhpar karne aaye ho
Main toot jaunga
Is tarah ke kuchh bhi nahi reh jaunga
Na tanha aur na saath tumhare
Nahi
Mujhe jaane do
Dard mein waapas jaane do

Wo dard hi humara bandhan hai ab
barson se wahi hai, kuchh aur nahi hai
Kis sukoon se jeeta tha main dard main
Koi fikr hi nahi thi kuchh khone ki
Jo kuchh khona tha kabka kho chuka tha
Tumse bichhardna to kabka ho chuka tha
Kis kis tarah se seekha sambhalna
Ek zindagi guzaar ke seekha tha jeena
Ab kya karunga
Tum phir jaoge
Har koi to kabhi jaata hi hai na
Tumne hi kaha hai
Kyun aa kar kaha hai
Kyun daraa kar kaha hai
Kya chhahte ho aakhir
Kuchh jaante hi nahi ho
Mujhe jaante hi nahi ho
Mere apne dard
Aur tumhara dard
Sab ek hue kabse
Ab na poochho
Kya ye kya wo hai
Sab ek hi hai
Sab dard hi hai
Kuchh aur mujhe
Maloom hi nahi hai
Waapas jaane do
Paas na aane do
Mujhe sambhaal lo
Door hi rakho
Khud se door
Khushion se door
Naye dard se door
Wo dard purane hi kaafi hain
Unko to main khoob jaanta hoon ab
Wo aur nahi satayenge mujhe
Sehla sehla ke sulaayenge mujhe
So jaane do
Phir muaf karo
Is baar bhi mujhko jaane do
Abhi jaane do
Abhi bhi kuchh bigrda nahi hai
Main shayad kuchh samjha hi nahi hoon
Ke tum laute ho
Ya khwabon mein hoon
Ab bhi shayad bach jaun
Der na ho jaane do
Fauran jaana hai
Ek ek pal ka dard
Ek sadi ki tarah peechha karega
Ye jaanta hoon- tab bhi to yahi sab ek baar hua tha
Ek pal bhi na zaaya karne do
Jaane do
Mujhe fauran waapas jaane do
Dard mein waapas jaane do.

-------
By Siyaah.
-------

A 'stream of consciousness' nazm...could not stop it once it started forming mentally...posting unedited. Somewhat different from my usual attempts which are generally in the ghazal style...this is more in the modern nazm style, I guess...

Aaj yoon mauj dar mauj gham tham gaya: Faiz

2011-04-20T10:48:00.000-07:00

Aaj yoon mauj dar mauj gham tham gaya
Is tarah ghamzadon ko qaraar aa gaya
Jaise khushboo-e-zulf-e-bahaar aa gayi
Jaise paighaam-e-deedaar-e-yaar aa gaya...

[by Faiz Ahmed Faiz]

The entire ghazal is mesmerizing. My favorite rendition, somewhat in an unorthodox style, is the Muzaffar Ali composition sung by Sukhwinder Singh...

Faiz has been translated well by others, so I generally don't translate him here...(even the youtube video below has a translation)

Barson baad

2011-04-08T09:12:00.000-07:00

Barson baad mile hain aise
Ek pal bhi beeta na ho jaise

Kya samjhen is haalat ko ab
Sab paaya sab khoya jaise

Wo paakeezgi ke do lamhe
Aur ek umr azaab ki jaise

Tab ye gham tha tumko khoya
Ab samjha do jahaan kho diye kaise

[work in progress...by Siyaah]

Thinking of adding another matla (opening couplet) [Jigar Moradabadi sometimes has two matlas...would be interesting to explore this tradition more]

Gunaah-gunaah mein farq hai aise
Tum - aur baaqi duniya jaise...

Agar Na Zohra Jabeenon: Jigar Moradabadi

2011-03-30T18:38:00.000-07:00

Agar Na Zohra Jabeenon...
By Jigar Moradabadi.

Agar na zohra jabeenon ke darmiyaan guzre
To phir ye kaise kate zindagi kahaan guzre [1]

Mujhe ye waham raha muddaton ke jurrat-e-shauq

Kahin na khaatir-e-maasoom par geraan guzre [2]

Khata muaaf, zamaane se badgumaan ho kar

Teri wafaa pe bhi kya kya humein gumaan guzre [3]

Junoon ke sakht maraahil bhi teri yaad ke saath
Haseen haseen nazar aaye, jawaan jawaan guzre [4]

Mujhe tha shikwa-e-hijraan, ke ye hua mahsoos -
Mere qareeb se hokar wo naagahaan guzre [5]

Bohot azeez hain mujhko unhi ki yaad Jigar
Wo haadasaat-e-mohabbat jo naagahaan guzre [6]

---
One of my favourite ghazals by my all-time favourite poet, Jigar Moradabadi...seems I have been carrying it around for decades - especially [2], [3], and [5] touch a very special place that is quite unique and comes straight from the heart. Suddenly and unexpectedly (naagahaan), the right time has come to unburden and post it here...

The version sung by Vinod Sehgal has been with me for ever, and is unsurpassable. Found an mp3 here; surprisingly the full version isn't on youtube yet.

Let's see if I can translate this well...will take time for sure...each word carries the weight of months and years...

Abandon

2011-02-17T20:34:00.000-08:00

"We move on and on, in search of mystery...and then we come to see that the only mysteries we want are the ones we'll never solve. And all we can do is try to cage with reasons what we know to be beyond the scope of reason. Till at last we surrender to something beyond us, and become unknowable ourselves."

"Metaphor was critical to the Sufis...because it was itself a metaphor: it said that behind the things we see, behind the people who speak, there lies another dimension, and that the other person sees even the things of the world in the light of the eternal."

From Pico Iyer's "Abandon".

Hum Dekhenge: Faiz's Predictions, Tunisia, Egypt and Beyond

2011-02-04T10:02:00.000-08:00

Faiz Ahmed Faiz's lines echo around in one's mind these days, witnessing the upheavals in large parts of middle-east under oppressive political elites for long, for far too long...

Faiz's choice of words is haunting for several reasons: it is at once inspiring, hopeful, suggests a state of current oppression, and most importantly, predictive. He almost seems to be predicting that this indeed will happen, and "indeed, we too will witness..." - and the predictions at first glance are quite extreme, almost incredible. Yet, it is all happening...

Hum dekhenge
Laazim hai ke hum bhi dekhenge...

Jab zulm-o-sitam ke kooh-e-garaan
Rooi ki tarah ur jaaenge...

Sab taaj uchhaale jaaenge
Sab takht giraae jaaenge...

I rarely translate Faiz, as it has been done by so many others quite well. One blogger's version is here.

Iqbal Bano's version remains the definitive one in terms of singing these lines...

Ghazal ka Saaz: The Ghazal Instrument (a translation)

2010-12-08T20:23:00.000-08:00

The Ghazal Instrument (Ghazal ka Saaz Uthao)
By Firaaq Gorakhpuri.

[Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

Pick up the ghazal instrument - the night is sad indeed
Play the melody of Mir - the night is sad indeed [1]

If not to you - to whom else should I go and complain:
O shadows of black tresses - the night is sad indeed [2]

We have heard of lamps dying out in such times before:
Do pray for the hearts - the night is sad indeed [3]

Let your hand remain in mine, as is, for a little while
Do not yet depart - the night is sad indeed [4]

------
Translator's Notes

I first thought this would be easy. But translating Firaaq Gorakhpuri poses unique challenges. While Firaaq often does not use heavily persianized expressions, some of his apparently simple idiomatic expressions can be hard to translate accurately.

[1] Saaz: instrument, apparatus. Can also refer to the sound from the instrument. I left "ghazal" as-is in the translation, since any translation of this into a general word such as "poetry" would miss all the traditional implications inherent in the reference to the ghazal form. Nawa-e-Mir: Nawa means melody, tune, sound; Firaaq's reference to Mir is an acknowledgement of inspiration from, and deep appreciation of, the well-known poet of an earlier generation, Mir Taqi Mir. Firaaq has similarly referred to Mir in other ghazals as well.

[2] Kis se jaa ke kahen: Though the literal meaning is "to whom should I go and say", the "say" here implies "complain" and it is difficult to transfer the meaning in English without using "complain" directly. Zulf: hair, tresses. Interesting implications are possible here: is the night sad (dark) due to the (one with) black tresses - notice the imagery of sad night and black tresses - , and if so, who else more appropriate to complain to about it?

[3] Khair manao: This is an idiomatic expression that could mean "pray for the safety of", "take precautions for the safety of", etc.

[4] The first line uses the words "yun hi" (as-is) in a manner that allows two readings: I have translated it as the first more obvious meaning. It could also idiomatically mean, "for no real reason". I wondered if "just like that" could fulfill both meanings in English, but wasn't satisfied. This remains the key difficulty in translating poetry - poets are adept at using words that mean more than they seem to, and as listeners in the native language, we sometimes don't even realize that is why some verses subconsciously strike a chord with us.

Thoughts on improvements are welcome!

Ghazal Ka Saaz Uthao: Firaaq

2010-11-10T09:57:00.000-08:00

Ghazal Ka Saaz Uthao

By Firaaq Gorakhpuri

Ghazal ka saaz uthao - bari udaas hai raat

Nawaa-e-Meer sunaao - bari udaas hai raat

Kahen na tumse to phir aur kisse jaa ke kahen

Siyaah zulf ke saayon - bari udaas hai raat

Suna hai pehle bhi aise mein bujh gaye hain chiraagh

Dilon ki khaair manaao - bari udaas hai raat

Diye raho yuheen kuchh der aur haath mein haath

Abhi na paas se jaao - bari udaas hai raat

----

Firaaq's obsession with night comes through in several of his compositions - this is one of them. It's also an example of his beautiful use of simpler language. Should be fun to translate this one. The rendition by Jagjit Singh will certainly count as one of the best (luckily so many of these are already uploaded by others and I don't have to upload them):

No Allegiance

2010-10-30T11:13:00.000-07:00

Hum ne yazeed-e-waqt se baeyat nahi kari:
Har morh par zamaane ko hum yaad aayenge...
[Manzar Bhopali]

Translation (rough):
No allegiance did we pay to the tyrant of the time:
At every turn will we be remembered by the world...

Manzar invokes the history of a specific period in time with reference to the challenge to a powerful tyrant, but I think his intent is clearly general - tyrants have changed forms from individual despotic rulers to governments to military-industrial complexes, yet their negative impact on human life and the associated desire of a few to challenge hegemony remains part of life...

Did my concurrent reading of Chris Hedge's "Empire of Illusion" have something to do with remembering this verse...

[Siyaah]

Bachaana Hai

2010-05-29T21:24:00.000-07:00

Sawaalon ko jawaabon se bachaana hai-
Khudaaon ko kitaabon se bachaana hai...

by Siyaah [work in progress]

Rough translation [with interpretation]:
Questions have to be protected from answers [some mysteries should remain mysteries rather than be attacked by easy answers]
Gods have to be protected from books [the idea of God has to be protected from the distortion that necessarily arises when it is written down in books, in contrast to seeking it through experience...].

Ash'aar-e-Siyaah

2010-05-06T10:05:00.000-07:00

Humein to bas ab apne hi ash'aar pasand aate hain Siyaah
Baaqi - auron ka kalaam - sab jhooth sa lagta hai...

Rough translation:
Only my own verses do I like anymore, Siyaah
The rest - the penmanship of others - all seems false...

[Moments of pride confessed in their own verses are fairly common amongst Urdu poets - and somehow loved by their audience...one wonders why. Also, is this is a style unique to Urdu poets...]

Wafaa-e-Siyaah

2010-04-07T10:01:00.000-07:00

Aap se nazar milaa lete hum

Zindagi ko bachaa lete hum

Aap taaroof zaraa bhi karte

Kuchh to apna pataa dete hum

Zindagi talkh hui, aakhir kab tak

Ek yaad-e-shirin ka mazaa lete hum

Gham-e-duniya ke liye waqt kahan

Khud se itne pareshaan rehte hum

Aaj shaayar hain to keh lene do

Kal sochenge kya na kehte hum

Rang har ek tha wahaan aakhir

Kab tak wafaa-e-Siyaah sehte hum

-----

Taaroof: introduction (especially formal, polite), formality

Talkh: bitter

Shirin: sweet

A work in progress...[by Siyaah]

Murg-e-Sahar: Bird of Dawn

2010-03-28T11:51:00.000-07:00

Murg-e-Sahar

Those of us who find Urdu poetry and its rendition through classical Hindustani music close to our hearts, will immediately relate to the similar effect of "Murg-e-Sahar" in Persian poetry with Persian classical music. I thought I would introduce Urdu fans here to this gem, on the occasion of the Persian new year that started a couple of weeks ago with Naurooz ("new day").

The song is traditional, written by Mohammad Taghi 'Bahaar', and the music was originally composed by Morteza Neydavood. Several artists have sung it, but the traditional style of Shajarian (in this video) is considered the pinnacle.

Perhaps I should attempt a translation...but till then, here is one that helps with the key words.

Life in Varanasi

2010-02-01T09:31:00.000-08:00

"We think of renunciation happening formally, definitively..., but it can happen gradually, so gradually it doesn't feel like renunciation. I didn't renounce the world; I just became gradually less interested in certain aspects of it, less involved with it - and that diminution of interest was slowly reciprocated. That's how it works. The world stops singling you out; you stop feeling singled out by the world.

I remembered how personally I used to take everything. Two years previously, I'd been given tickets for the opening day at Wimbledon, Centre Court. It rained, off and on...By the end of the day, not a shot had been played. It was as if there was a curse on me. No one else - not the players or anyone else in the stadium - suffered to the extent that I did. It was my day, my Wimbledon, my parade that was being rained on.

The weather had come between me and what I wanted - which was to watch tennis. The pain and the rain were intolerable because they conformed to a broader climatic pattern: something was always coming between me and what I wanted. That afternoon at Wimbledon it was the rain; another day it was another thing. But there was always something. I realized now that that thing was me. I was in my way. I was ahead of me in the queue. I was keeping me waiting. Everything was a kind of waiting.

...in Varanasi I no longer felt like I was waiting. The waiting was over. I had taken myself out of the equation."

Lines that made it worth reading Geoff Dyer's "Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi".

Rawalpindi in Unionville

2009-11-24T23:29:00.000-08:00

Rawalpindi in Unionville

[by Siyaah]

I heard of Rawalpindi

in Unionville

a city

with a village in its name

Over the radio

amidst the glass-figures

an explosion

Why did it bother me

a hand-crafted import

for a dollar

How many people

how many livelihoods?

Hadn't I heard of it

in cricket matches

at home

across the border

Was there anyone winning

was there a home

for me here?

----

Rawalpindi: 'pind' means village in Punjabi

Unionville: 'ville' from the Latin root means farm/village

Lit Up with the Beloved's Beauty: A translation

2009-10-07T10:25:00.000-07:00

Lit Up with the Beloved's Beauty
By Hasrat Mohani
Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah

Lit up with the beloved's beauty, is the assembly entire
Kindled with the blossom's fire, is the garden entire. [1]

Expressing surprise with vanity, anxiety with jest
Your heart too has learned the beloved's repertoire entire. [2]

O God, how unique is the beloved's body, that by itself
Drowned in colours is the raiment entire. [3]

Do see the enchanting gaze of the beloved's eyes
Struck unconscious in a glance, is the assembly entire. [4]

Meer's burning and melting is the sweetness of a breeze
Hasrat, in front of your verses pales the world of poetry entire. [5]

Translator's Notes

[1] Roshan: signifying light, as in 'lit up', contrast with Deheka in the next line, for which I have used the closest expression as 'kindle' which conveys the precise implications of 'set fire to; fuel; cause to glow'; Jamaal: beauty, elegance; Anjuman: assembly, meeting; Tamaam: entire, complete (but also see last note).

[2] Hairat: surprise, astonishment; Ghuroor-e-husn: pride of beauty, implying vanity; Shokhi: playfulness, jest, mirth; Izteraab: agitation, excitement, anxiety, restlessness, fear.

"Chalan (tamaam)" is here a kind of colloquial usage implying the beloved's ways, and had to rendered with some creativity using the expression "beloved's repertoire (entire)"

[3] Jism-e-yaar: body of beloved; Pairaahan: raiment, garment

[4] Chashm-e-yaar: eyes of beloved; The couplet has an interesting duality: does the 'glance' in the second line refer to the assembly looking at the beloved's eyes (especially in the context of the exhortation in the first line "Do see"), or the beloved casting a glance at the assembly? I think the latter would be the simpler interpretation.

[5] This was the most challenging couplet.

Sheerini-e-naseem: Sweetness of breeze; Sheerin generally means sweet, but can also refer to pleasant, gentle, affable, particularly as a characteristic of manners or speech.

Soz-e-gudaaz: literally Soz means Burning (implying heartrending, plaintive) and Gudaaz means Melting (implying tragic, heartbreaking). Soz-e-gudaaz is a Persian poetic expression often used for speech or poetry that is plaintive and tragic.

Sukhan: verses; Lutf-e-sukhan: Essence of verses / poetry

The last verse was difficult to rhyme with the rest in translation, as interestingly, the poet employs a different derived meaning of 'Tamaam' here i.e. 'to end' or 'to finish off'. This had to be rendered creatively with the introduction of 'world of poetry' to end with 'entire'.

Also, the poet's invocation of the one of the best known Urdu poets, Meer, in the last couplet is interesting. While praising Meer's works, he immediately follows it up with the highest praise for his own poetry (self-praise is not uncommon amongst Urdu poets). Also, I wonder if the metaphors used to describe Meer's works are somewhat tongue-in-cheek: It could be read as implying that all of Meer's burning and melting is but the sweetness of a breeze i.e. is not plaintive or heartrending enough, when compared with Hasrat's own works.

Roshan Jamaal-e-Yaar Se: Hasrat Mohani

2009-09-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

Roshan Jamaal-e-Yaar Se
By Hasrat Mohani [1875-1951]

Roshan jamaal-e-yaar se hai anjuman tamaam

Deheka hua hai aatish-e-gul se chaman tamaam

Hairat ghuroor-e-husn se shokhi se iztaraab

Dil ne bhi tere seekh liye hain chalan tamaam

Allah-re jism-e-yaar ki khoobi ke khud-ba-khud

Rangeeniyon mein doob gaya pairahan tamaam

Dekho to chasm-e-yaar ki jaadu nigaahiyaan

Behosh ek nazar mei hui anjuman tamaam

Sheerini-e-naseem hai soz-o-gudaaz-e-meer

Hasrat tere sukhan pe hai lutf-e-sukhan tamaam...

---

Hasrat Mohani is generally known for his "chupke chupke" ghazal, but the other excellent works in his repertoire are rarely noted today. These include several patriotic as well as sufistic spiritual works. This particular ghazal has been a favorite of mine for a long time, particularly for its sufistic interpretation. Take your pick of the singing by Abida Parveen, Jagjit Singh, and Mehdi Hasan respectively below (though I find it is more powerful to hear without any possible visuals, which are unable to capture anything close to the idea...). Let's see how this one comes out in translation...

Kya Kariye

2009-07-09T13:00:00.000-07:00

Ab yahi hai qismat kya kariye
Jab yahi hai fitrat kya kariye

Hum haar chuke hain duniya ko
Ab uski waseehat kya kariye

Hum chhorh chuke hain har koshish
Ab uski naseehat kya kariye

Hum deen ke ab na duniya ke
Sunnat-o-imaamat kya kariye

Hum keh bhi dein to hai sunta kaun
Ab sach ki ye jurrat kya kariye...

[Work in progress...by Siyaah]

Rough Translation

Now, this is our luck- what can one do?
When this is our nature- what can one do?

We have lost the world
Now the divine will- of what use?

We have given up every attempt
Now the divine advice- of what use?

We're neither of the spiritual nor of the material world
Divine traditions and divine leadership - of what use?

Even if we do speak out- does anyone listen?
Now this audacity for the truth- of what use?

Sarv-o-Saman by Abida (high quality)

2009-05-14T19:00:00.000-07:00

I was finally able to upload a higher quality version of Jazbi's Sarv-o-Saman ghazal that I translated earlier. It is quite an experience to hear it in Abida's voice, sung to Muzaffar Ali's composition.

The Cypress and Jasmine: Sarv-o-Saman

2009-03-16T17:45:00.000-07:00

The Cypress and Jasmine...
[by Moin Ahsan Jazbi. Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

The cypress and jasmine, the waves of breeze at dawn- all are there;
O blossom, in your garden, is one of moist-eye there? [1]

Drink on for a while, in the shade of the tresses and visage;
The magic of dusk there is, the enchantment of dawn is there [2]

If the world listens, this tale of woe is lengthy indeed;
Yes if you listen, to this tale of woe- an end is there [3]

Now in the poetic world of Hind, Jazbi, after Jigar:
This I do wonder: an owner of such sight - is there? [4]

Translator's Notes

[1]Sarv: typically refers to Cypress trees, which were the first preference for gardens in Persia and remain so today; saman: shortened poetic version of yasaman i.e. jasmine; mauj: wave(s); naseem: breeze; sahar: dawn; chashm: eye; tar: wet/moist

[2]Kaakul: literally forelock (lock of hair falling on face) or topknot (style of doing hair by tying it into a high knot), by implication 'tresses' captures the expression somewhat in English; aariz: face/visage; fusoon: magic/enchantment

[3]mukhtasar: brief; taveel: lengthy

[4] Shayaraan-e-Hind: poetic world of Hind (Hind was/is commonly used in Persian and Urdu to refer to the Indian subcontinent; Saahib-nazar: Owner of sight/perspective- I translated it with the implication “such sight” but it could also be read as just “sight”, which would mean: after Jigar, none is left who can even be considered to have (“to own”) sight.

This was not an easy one: It took me some time to settle on the exact meaning and implication of some words and then re-creating the rhyme was not easy. I found it interesting to see the cultural and linguistic loan of "Sarv" (cypress tree) to Urdu in a region where such trees would not have been the norm. Look forward to thoughts and suggestions for improvement...

Sarv-o-Saman Bhi

2009-02-18T19:52:00.001-08:00

Sarv-o-Saman Bhi
[by Moin Ahsan Jazbi]

Sarv-o-saman bhi, mauj-e-naseem-e-sahar bhi hai
Ay gul tere chaman mein koi chasm-e-tar bhi hai?

Kuchh der pi le kakul-o-aariz ki chhaaon mein
Jaadu-e-shaam bhi hai, fusoon-e-sahar bhi hai

Duniya sune to qissa-e-gham hai bohot taveel
Haan tum suno to qissa-e-gham mukhtasar bhi hai

Ab shaayaraan-e-Hind mein Jazbi, Jigar ke baad
Ye sochta hoon main koi saahib nazar bhi hai...

---
I have been listening obsessively to this one for a while, beautifully sung by Abida (I'll try and post a higher quality version later). I've found that listening to a ghazal to the point of complete immersion is where proper translation possiblities begin to form...

Jazbi is very much in his melancholy element here, and reserves a special honor for Jigar Moradabadi in the last couplet, lamenting the loss of Jigar from the poetic world. Perhaps that is what makes this ghazal even more special for me, since both are among my favorites.

Let's see how I translate this one...

the blackened landscape

2009-01-20T13:19:00.001-08:00

In my thoughts often
simple, innocuous words
run and freeze-
into all kinds of lines, circles and other shapes...
Sometimes I feel these words are trying to tell me something
are talking to me-
of long-lost times
people and places
in a language I once knew
but have now forgotten
a name here-
a place there-
they scream at me
at this blackened landscape
where nothing remains
that can understand
or answer.

-------
A scribble from years ago...taking a break from translations...

Ab Tum Hi Kaho Kya Karna Hai: Faiz

2008-12-06T22:29:00.000-08:00

Ab Tum Hi Kaho Kya Karna Hai
[by Faiz Ahmad Faiz]

Jab dukh ki nadiya mein humne
jeevan ki naao daali thi
tha kitna kas bal baahon mein
lahu mein kitni laali thi
yun lagta tha do haath lage
aur naao pooram paar lagi

Aisa na hua- har dhaare mein
kuchh andekhi majdhaarein theen
kuchh maajhi the anjaan bohot
kuchh be-parkhi patwaarein theen

Ab jo bhi chaaho chhaan karo
ab jitney chaaho dosh dharo
nadiya bhi wahi hai, naao wahi
ab tum ki kaho kya karna hai
ab kaise paar utarna hai

Jab apni chhaati mein humne
is des ke ghaao dekhey the
tha khud par bhi vishwaas bohot
aur yaad bohot se nuskhey the
yun lagta tha bas kuchh din mein
saari bipta kat jaayegi
aur sab ghaao bhar jaaenge

Aisa na hua- ke rog apne
kuchh itne dher puraane the
ved unki toh ko paa na sake
aur totke sab bekaar gaye

Ab jo bhi chaaho chhaan karo
ab jitne chaaho dosh dharo
chhati bhi wahi hai, ghaao wahi
ab tum hi kaho kya karna hai
ye ghaao kaise bharna hai...

That Is Sight

2008-11-18T15:52:00.000-08:00

That Is Sight

[By Asghar Gondvi. Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

That is sight, which goes beyond this existence and the next
And yet falters when it falls on a radiant face [1]

How can sight not falter on that beauty- how can it not?
That turns at times to a blossom, and is at times a face [2]

I stride on- laughing, playing with the waves of tragedies
If there were ease, life would be difficult indeed... [3]

Translator's Notes
[1] Kaun-o-makaan: literally, this Persian expression refers to "all existence", but the implication is to include this existence and the next, based on earlier classical usage by the Persian sufi poet, Hafez;
Ru-e-taabaan: face that is radiant / emits heat or light. I interpret it as an expression of beauty that blinds one to all else.

[2]rukhsaar: face;
"(Nazar) us...par thahre" literally means "to stay put", but the meaning of the expression is lost in English. The implication is more closely captured by "to not falter".

[3]mauj-e-hawaadis: literally, waves of accidents/misfortunes/tragedies;
Dushwar: difficult to the point of being almost impossible.

Nazar Wo Hai: Asghar Gondvi

2008-09-23T21:08:00.001-07:00

Nazar Wo Hai

[by Asghar Gondvi]

Nazar wo hai ke jo kaun-o-makaan ke paar ho jaaye
Magar jab roo-e-taabaan par pade bekaar ho jaaye

Nazar us husn par thahre to aakhir kis tarah thahre
Kabhi jo phool ban jaaye, kabhi rukhsaar ho jaaye

Chalaa jaata hoon hansta khelta mauj-e-hawaadis se
Agar aasaaniyaan ho zindagi dushwaar ho jaaye...

Asghar Hussain (1884-1938) takes his takhallus from his home district Gonda, in the province of U.P., India, historically part of the Awadh culture. He is less known, but highly regarded for his relatively fewer works.

[Incidentally, the picture in the clip is from a couple of months ago, when I was crossing the border from Italy to Switzerland, passing through the Swiss Alps by train. Somehow felt like using it here...there is something about such pristine beauty. You can see the sky, the mountains, the water, and civilization at the edge, including a church...everything fits...]

In-between worlds

2008-09-18T14:17:00.000-07:00

Wo bhi apna hai wahaan aur hum bhi uske hain yahaan,
Kya hua baaqi hai kuchh jo zindagi-e-darmiyaan.

Acceptance

2008-07-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

Ghalti apni bhi hai- ab maan bhi lo,
Thi mohabbat- ab jaan bhi lo...

Gham uske jaane ka nahin hai tumko,
Aks apna pehchaan bhi lo...

Limits

2008-07-15T08:12:00.000-07:00

Duniya ki hadon ko chhoDo
Siyaah, jao pehle apni hadon ko toDo.

Tahayya-e-Toofaan: Ghalib

2008-06-04T08:05:00.000-07:00

Ghalib humein na chhed ke phir josh-e-ashq se,
Baithe hain hum tahayya-e-toofaan kiye hue.
[By Mirza Ghalib]

Ghalib, tease us not again with the flood of tears,
We sit with a determination to rival the storms.
[Translated by Siyaah]

josh-e-ashq: literally josh means 'to boil', ashq=tears. There is no exact expression to capture the effect in English. "Flood of tears" has a similar idea.

tahayya-e-toofaan: tahayya=determination. One could interpret it either as a determination to face storms, or a determination as strong as that of storms - I have tried to capture both ideas with 'to rival the storms'

Deen

2008-04-18T16:44:00.000-07:00

Have you seen one who denies the deen? (religion/judgment)

That is the one who repulses the yateem (orphan)

And urges not the feeding of the miskeen (indigent)

Ah, woe unto the musalleen (those who pray)

Who, of their prayers, are saahoon (unmindful)

Who want to be yuraaoon [seen (at prayer)]

Yet refuse al-maaoon (small kindnessess / neighbourly needs).

----
Tried a different way of translation: keeping the last word in the original to preserve the rhyme and give a sense of how lyrical the original sounds.
Source: any guesses?! (not my usual area of 'expertise')

Dharma

2008-04-12T10:22:00.000-07:00

"Metaphorically then, not to open your water taps fully while shaving is dharma; not to jump the red light on the traffic signal is dharma; and not to pollute the air we breathe is dharma."

"In India nearly every situation is encountered as a first-time situation and people respond to them as such- so for sheer survival one has to be extremely intelligent. You have to be extremely intelligent to grasp in a split second that the traffic cop has no vehicle to chase you with, and so you can jump the red light with impunity. Or judge in the flash of an eye whether he has a pen and notebook with him to jot down your number- if he does not have these with him, you assume it is safe to ignore his signal to you to pull over. Or to figure out, when on impulse you spit copiously on the street from the safety of your balcony and a poor pedestrian happens to intercept your wad, that there is precious little he can do, short of DNA testing, to prove that it was you who spat."

"When I jump a queue or a red light, or throw that garbage on the sidewalk, I am taking a rational 'squeal' decision, since it seems to get me ahead of others or make life easier for me. Here I am being privately smart. But then, as others are no less rational, intelligent and smart, they too start 'squealing' for the same reasons, and before we know it, we have unruly traffic, filthy streets and stinking urinals. So collectively we are worse off, just as the two prisoners in the dilemma. And then we complain about a dirty country, a polluted city and apalling traffic. In short, publicly we emerge dumb."

"...It was Nobel laureate John Nash who first turned his attention to rivalries with mutual gain, that is, non-zero-sum situations, where one does not have to win at the cost of another, as both parties can emerge winners."

From "Games Indians Play" by V. Raghunathan.

Eight Things

2008-03-24T19:13:00.000-07:00

I've never really done tags on this blog- somehow it never went with the overall feel of the place. But given that somehow I'm now part of a set of bloggers who are quite regular here and whose blogs I frequent, I feel I should give it a shot. So here's to a regular reader here (not sure I'll get a full 'eight' list in all cases...)

Eight things I am passionate about:
Reading poetry
Translating poetry
Writing poetry
Traveling to places I've never been before
Natural Science (Theoretical physics,...Any science fields related to human evolution)
Social Science (Human cognition and behavior,...)
The interaction of science (e.g. science of human brain) with social science (e.g. human behavior)
...

Eight things I want to do before I die:
Write a funny novel (something along the lines of Seinfeld and Chasm-e-bad-door put together, based loosely around college life and crazy friends from that time...)
Write a tragic novel (based on the darker aspects of life)
Write a script for a movie based on the above
Travel to almost every country
Experiment with painting- without training, without exhibiting any works
...

Eight things I say often:
Take it easy!
Have fun!
Haan bhai...! (said sarcastically) (Hindi/Urdu)
Tur Khoda! (By God! -said in dejection) (Persian)
...

Eight books I've read recently:
Nine Stories- J.D. Salinger (re-reading gradually)
Games Indians Play- V. Raghunathan
Lonely Planet Guide to Iran (after the visit!)
The Mind of the Strategist - K. Ohmae
Structural Equation Modeling - R. Kline
Managers Not MBAs - H. Mintzberg
The Codfathers - G. Pitts
The Alchemy of Happiness - H.I. Khan

Eight songs I could listen to, over and over:
Dekh to dil ke jaan se uthta hai (Mir by Mehdi Hasan)
Jalwa baqadra-e-zarf-e-nazar (Jigar by Abida Parveen)
Love Street (The Doors)
Riders on the Storm (The Doors)
Faith (George Michael)
Muddat hui hai yaar ko mehmaan kiye hue (Ghalib by Iqbal Bano)
...

Eight things that attract me to my best friends:
Rebellion
Independence of thought
Originality of thought
Ability to challenge my thoughts
Ability to see humor and tragedy in anything
Ready to re-examine firmly held beliefs, to change anything
Struggles -internal, external
A desire to understand something beyond everything...

Eight people I think should do this tag:
Anyone who stumbles upon this blog...

The Student

2008-03-15T19:27:00.000-07:00

Many years ago,
I saw a man in uniform,
Get down on one knee,
Peacefully,
And fire upon a crowd of protestors,
Fleeing into narrow lanes of ghettos,
As if their only crime was to come out of oblivion,
And protest their exclusion,
And bullets were needed to throw them back,
Into their desolate lives, excluded.
A few were shot- all on their backs,
I later learned a student died,
I was a student in the ghetto,
I had learned a lot,
and survived.

---
Somehow recalled the above lines on seeing the movie Hotel Rwanda (rare movie recommendation on this site). The lines just came to me sometime last year, recounting a real-life incident I had witnessed more than a decade ago.

At the Splendor...I Stared: An Interpretive Translation

2008-02-14T19:36:00.000-08:00

At the Splendor...I Stared.
By Jigar Moradabadi
[Interpretive translation of the Urdu by Siyaah]

At the splendor, with an appreciative, capacious gaze, I stared
What else could I see- but at her, I stared. [1]

At my own reflection, presented to my gaze, I stared
A mirror there was face-to-face, wherever I stared. [2]

In her sanctuary of grace, where could I stand-
At the imprints on the veil at the door, I stared. [3]

Some such nights of separation went by as well-
As if it were her, presented to my gaze, at whom I stared. [4]

With every glance, the grandeur of beauty changed, O Jigar
At every glory of the transforming world, I stared. [5]

----
Translator's Notes

One aspect of note in Jigar's ghazals is his command on the rhyme- often, he has two opening couplets (rather than the mandatory one for the typical ghazal) with all verses in rhyme.

Translating this was much tougher than it first appeared. The words had to be very precise in terms of their meanings in several places, yet had to be open to interpretation in two ways- for an earthly beloved, and for the Spiritual as well (the word 'her' can be replaced with 'Him' for that effect - in Urdu, the two words are the same). Suggestions for improvements are most welcome.

[1] jalwa: splendor; ba-qadr: showing the proper respect, admiration and appreciation - valuing something at its proper worth; zarf: capacious, being able to hold much. I chose 'I stared' to convey the sense of wonder and almost helplessness conveyed through 'dekh-te rahe'.

[2] ru-ba-ru: face-to-face.

[3] hareem-e-naaz: hareem means santuary or sacred place, house, and often also refers to the enclosure of the sanctuary at Mecca. Naqsh-o-nigar: decorations, engravings, designs, imprints. I prefered 'imprints' as it also suggests that what is seen on the veil is a manifestation or imprint of the sacred that is hidden from sight- one sufistic interpretation here would be that the world is an imprint of the Creator who is veiled from wordly sight.

[4] firaaq: separation.

[5] lehza: a look, a glance, a moment. Jahaan-e-digar: digar means next, other, another. This was the most difficult couplet to translate - Jigar's choice of every word gives it a variety of meanings. Jahaan-e-digar could be read as the 'next world'. Coupled with the first line, it could imply the various aspects of the beloved's beauty that the poet observed with every glance made him compare it to 'other world'-like beauty. Yet, it could also imply that the poet, through witnessing the changing beauty of this world in general, had a spiritual experience of 'transition to' the other world. I used 'transforming world' for jahaan-e-digar as it preserves all interpretations and brings the poet's experience alive through the words.

There is much more here, open to interpretation.

Jalwa Baqadr-e-Zarf-e-Nazar

2008-01-28T19:40:00.000-08:00

Jalwa Baqadr-e-Zarf-e-Nazar
[By Jigar Moradabadi]

Jalwa baqadr-e-zarf-e-nazar dekhte rahe
Kya dekhte hum unko magar dekhte rahe

Apna hi aks pesh-e-nazar dekhte rahe
Aaina ru-ba-ru tha jidhar dekhte rahe

Unki hareem-e-naaz kahaan aur hum kahaan
Naqsh-o-nigaar-e-parda-e-dar dekhte rahe

Aisi bhi kuch firaaq ki raatein guzar gayin
Jaise unhi ko pesh-e-nazar dekhte rahe

Har lehza shaan-e-husn badalti rahi Jigar
Har aan hum jahaan-e-digar dekhte rahe

---
One of my favorites from Jigar, grows on you slowly but surely...is open to more than one interpretation. It reads so well as poetry sung to an earthly beloved - yet Jigar's verses often seem to imply Sufi angles and the meanings could apply to the Spiritual 'beloved'. In this ghazal in particular, the two layers of meaning flow through so seamlessly. Listen to it rendered by Abida Parveen here.

Canada, you and me

2008-01-20T18:10:00.000-08:00

In this vast land of Canada
I have found you
To be close to me.

The Story

2007-11-25T19:16:00.000-08:00

I must finally start writing this story. For I have nothing left but this.

I am still in all sorts of doubts. A story is your creation, but it also creates you, for others to see. In this I am somewhat comforted by the fact that I might never have anyone read this. In any case, though I always wanted to be a writer, I stopped trying. I could never write anything that sells. One has sold oneself enough already - now how painful to sell even the story of that sale. I could never bring myself to change a single word, or edit a line. How cruel a punishment for the sin of exposing oneself, to have parts sliced off. What is then left is neither you, nor them - those who would read it. Let them read me as it is, or not at all. Perhaps not at all is so much better. For everyone.

I have nothing left. Everything that I ever wanted, never came to me. It came tantalizingly close to make one's desires and hopes reach where they could. And worse, it came close again when one had survived and moved on. To have it come back close again is to wrench out one's guts all over again. To feel the pain of the desire and the loss. And to feel the movement of time and realize that the loss was that much bigger, for nothing, not even it itself, can bring it back, once the time is gone.

But I might be excused for writing in generalities. No matter how specific the pain, it occurs to one as the most general state of one's life. Nothing is specific - one either loses it all or wins it all. The rest is just make-believe.

How easy it is to be born in this world. And yet how difficult to live. So easy to be born in fact that one makes no decision and no conscious effort about it. It just happens. Would that anyone would care to ask - here is the list of things you will have, here is how the world is and will be - would you like to be here? Although, knowing humans, one wonders if they wouldn't be foolish enough to still want it. Yet to stay alive requires so much effort - biological - to breathe every moment, to eat, to excrete, and to spend every moment making arrangements for these, or for the illnesses surrounding these. Psychological - to think about things around - the bewilderment of it all - nothing makes sense. At first, or later. Not till the end. Yet one must think and be enticed to believe there is free will and choice and freedom to act and determine our lives. What nonsense. Where did these ridiculous thoughts originate?

For we know nothing at all. And what is choice or freedom or anything, without knowledge? Any man standing up and contemplating about the thing closest to him - himself, is faced with the most basic questions for which there have never been any answers.

And so was I born, with ease, without so much as knowing about it. Yet consciousness came early - what a burden. And let the optimists charge me. The fact that they do so suggests their own insecurity in their house of cards. The more one lives, the more one suffers - and there are no two ways about it. When one ignores one's suffering, one can, in moments of intoxication, almost convince oneself that all is great, that life is wonderful. But these people are not in their senses at all. In fact, these people are not alive at all. For anyone alive, could not ignore the suffering - of one's body, every moment that it breathes and tries to survive on this planet, of one's soul that tries to fit into the body and make sense of what it is doing on this alien planet. Not to mention the continuous suffering of all others that one cannot be shielded from, for in the very act of trying to shield, one perceives and registers.

Those who teach one to write ruin one forever. For it is through avoiding all influence that one can sustain oneself, not the other way round. I have not read for long. Every word tears one apart. Not to mention the images and sounds and such. It tears one apart from oneself - snippets of this and that person and this and that life - that don't hold together, and never can. They only confuse and influence to render one meaningless. For it is only one's own story that holds together - every snippet, every little day and hour and moment - it is a complete story - yet so hard to tell. There is so much in it. So much that we avoid observing ourselves. So much that we must not know, to survive. And it is best that way, for to tell it to others makes it another snippet in someone else's life that adds to meaninglessness, and nothing more.

----------
A suddent burst of prose, unedited. Some might find it too dark, but that's in line with this space. This is fast becoming a place for experiments of all kinds in (re)discovering myself...but perhaps that is what a blog is about...(?)

Siyaah-e-Dil

2007-11-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

Use kya, khud ko bhula dunga
Is tufaan ko bujha dunga

Main teri raah mein ab bas
Har ek lamha naya dunga

Mohabbat kya, qayamat kya
Main farq inme mita dunga

Hai darya uske ishare par
To kashti hi duba dunga

Naye rangon ki ek duniya
Siyaah-e-dil se bana dunga

[by Siyaah]
----
An earlier attempt at a musalsal ghazal - a somewhat unusual theme and state of being - finally had the courage to post.

What Does A Bomb Know? - Manzar Bhopali

2007-10-20T18:09:00.000-07:00

On a somewhat different note than usual, I am compelled to note Manzar Bhopali's commentary on the times. Manzar's forte is his ability to have a finger on the pulse of the people - touching upon the issues of the day, conveyed often through simple words using popular imagery. His mellifluous recitations always add a haunting effect- listen to this one here (third link). I have transcribed and translated one part of the poem below.

Bum Ko Kya Maaloom?
[By Manzar Bhopali]

Koi bhi mehfooz nahi hai, phoot rahe hain bum
Jaane kab ho jaaye kisi ka taara raara rum

Kaun hai hindu kaun musalmaan bum ko kya maaloom
Kaun hai sindhi kaun muhaajir bum ko kya maaloon
Aashiq ho, mehbooba ho, ya ho koi maasoom- bum ko kya maaloom
Bum kya jaane rishte naate, bum kya jaane ghum

Jaane kab ho jaaye kisi ka taara raara rum

What Does a Bomb Know?
[Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

No one is safe, all around burst bombs-
Who knows when anyone of us will be gone?

Who is a hindu, who is a muslim - what does a bomb know?
Who is a native, who is an immigrant - what does a bomb know? [1]
A lover, a beloved or an innocent - what does a bomb know?
What does a bomb know of relationships and friendships - what does a bomb know of grief?

Who knows when anyone of us will be gone?

[1] I have used the general word 'native' to contrast with 'immigrant' - the use of 'sindhi' and 'muhaajir' in the original points towards one of the post-partition problems of South Asia - the integration problems of immigrants in Pakistan, but the theme is general.

Tanhaai

2007-10-12T21:53:00.000-07:00

Khwaab ki tarah bikhar jaane ko jee chaahta hai
Aisi tanhaai ke mar jaane ko jee chaahta hai
[Iftikhar Arif]

To shatter like a dream, I wish
Such loneliness- that to die, I wish
[Translated by Siyaah]

---
Not much more to say these days.

Is Dard Se...

2007-08-23T19:19:00.000-07:00

Is dard se nejaat paaun to kaise
Waapas ab us duniya mein jaaun to kaise... [1]

Abhi tak tumhaara khwaab meri aankhon mein hai
Main apna sab kuchh chhorh jaaun to kaise...

Main khush hoon bohot, pareshaan hoon bohot
Apni haalat tumhein samjhaaun to kaise...

Main kuchh bhi sochun tum aa jaate ho khayaalon mein
Khayaalon ke is jaal ko ab suljhaaun to kaise...

Tumhi the chaand, tumhi suraj, tumhi taaron ka falak
Din raat main ab apne bachaaun to kaise... [5]

Tum aaye the to yaad aaya tha ke zindaa hoon main
Ab zindagi ke mai'ne phir se bhulaaun to kaise...

Khushiyon ki horh mein hai har koi mubtelaa
Kamzarfon ko gham apne dikhaaun to kaise... [7]

Lo kehne laga phir se kuchh sher Siyaah
Ab hosh mein main aaun to kaise... [8]

[by Siyaah]

[1]nejaat: escape, to become free of (especially hardships)
[5]falak: celestial sphere, sky, also used for orbit, which gives this couplet a nice touch with reference to day and night in the second verse
[7]mubtelaa: deeply involved, especially in misfortune, misery, difficulties...thus bringing out the irony here with 'khushiyon ki...'
kamzarf: literally, those with less wit, capability, elegance, beauty
[8] Siyaah is used here as a takhallus, and could also be read as a characteristic of the sher...both interpretations connect to the last verse.

O Dusk of Grief: A Translation

2007-07-31T22:33:00.000-07:00

O Dusk of Grief
[By Firaq Gorakhpuri. Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

O dusk of grief- somewhat of that graceful gaze, let’s talk
Unconsciousness increases- of the secret, let’s talk [1]

This graceful silence, this rupturing of the heart’s veins
In silence, somewhat of that organ’s defeat, let’s talk [2]

Somewhat from the cage’s bars- something like light filters through
Somewhat of the skies, somewhat of the desire to fly, let’s talk [3]

The fragrance of hair tousled, tale of dusk of grief
Till dawn- in this very style, let’s talk... [4]

---
Translator's Notes

I have tried to convey the poet's words and ideas while leaving the interpretations somewhat open in places, as in the original.

[1] nigaah-e-naaz: gaze of grace / one with the graceful gaze / graceful gaze

[2] sukoot: silence; ragon: blood vessels - I have used veins for poetic effect; shikast-e-saaz: defeat of (musical) instrument - I have used organ as it carries the meaning of musical instrument and also connects to 'heart' in the previous line.

[3] qafas: cage; noor: light, typically with deeper positive connotations often of a spiritual nature; fazaa: atmosphere / skies / space, also suggesting the conditions of these i.e. the weather; hasrat-e-parwaz: desire to fly

[4] nakhat: breath of air / fragrance; zulf-e-pareshaan: hair that is tousled / disarrayed, typically invoking beauty and mystery.

Shaam-e-Ghum: Firaq

2007-07-23T20:12:00.000-07:00

Shaam-e-Ghum
[By Firaq Gorakhpuri]

Shaam-e-ghum kuchh us nigaah-e-naaz ki baatein karo
Bekhudi badhti chali hai, raaz ki baatein karo

Ye sukoot-e-naaz, ye dil ki ragon ka tootna
Khamoshi mein kuchh shikast-e-saaz ki baatein karo

Kuchh qafas ki teeliyon se chhan rahaa hai noor saa,
Kuchh fazaa kuchh hasrat-e-parwaaz ki baatein karo

Nakhat-e-zulf-e-pareshaan dastaan-e-shaam-e-ghum
Subho hone tak isi andaaz ki batein karo

-----
This is one of my favorite ghazals from Firaq's repertoire, rendered so well by Vinod Sehgal. I'm trying to translate this...let's see how it turns out...

Kya poochte ho...

2007-05-23T23:23:00.000-07:00

A comment on my earlier post asked: "Where are you?"

I am still wondering how to answer. It is at once a simple yet philosophical question, depending on the mood you're in. Not to turn this into a series of posts from my own inventory, but I could not resist letting these stand-alone verses go through in response...

Kya poochhte ho kahaan hain hum
Shikasta kashti mein aur toofaan ke darmiyaan hain hum...

Kya poochhte ho ke kaise hain
Ek dard se nikle hain abhi, ek ki taak mein baithe hain...

Before I start testing everyone's patience with my own scribbles, I'll be back with translations next...

Ghum

2007-04-29T12:59:00.000-07:00

Ye mere ghum hi hain
Jo mujh ko yahaan tak laaye hain...
Khushi mili hoti kahin-
To wahin ruk gaya hota.

[by Siyaah]

Where are all the poems I wrote?

2007-04-09T00:17:00.000-07:00

Where are all the poems I wrote?
I did not bother to tear them up
Or turn them black, into ashes
I left them
Where I wrote them-
On the backs of pages with unsolved problems
Jostling for space with rough calculations
Complex numbers, the real and unreal
Running into differentiating, integrating expressions
Their words held together with the glue of numbers;
Or sometimes-
On blank first pages
Or back covers of notebooks
Bold, signed-
If you ever come across those bits of paper
Use them up, it does not matter
They are yours - meant, destined for you
Tokens of our ephemeral existences
Why type them up
Bind them in books
As they were never meant to be
Let each verse seek its own free life
Its own meaning, its own survival
Like the rest of us.

[By Black/Siyaah. Circa late 90s]
----

Finally I've slipped some more of my old stuff here, perhaps mostly as a diversion. This came about at a time when I first started to realize that I had 'lost' most of what I had written...it strangely brought together the literal and symbolic angle of every part of that experience...

My State These Days

2007-03-16T18:31:00.000-07:00

My State These Days
[By Jigar Moradabadi. Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

My state these days turns heedless of pain-
Every joy that was my share seems on the wane... [1]

An apocalyptic glory indeed - this turns now to the beauty of both worlds-
The gathering is the same, yet the heart's desire is on the wane... [2]

The same companion and attendant, yet the heart does suffocate-
The lamp is the same, yet the flame is on the wane... [3]

This life is the same, O Jigar, yet such is my state-
As if the very life of life is on the wane... [4]

Translator's Notes

One of the critical aspects for this ghazal was re-creating the "kam hoti jaati hai" effect in English. In the original, this repeated rhyme applies to a variety of metaphors. After several considerations, the poetically familiar "on the wane" was chosen as it conveyed the literal meaning of "to decrease gradually in size, amount, intensity or degree" and could be applied to the derived meanings for the different metaphors in each couplet.

[1] tabiyat can literally mean disposition, nature, temperament but here 'my state' conveyed the closest meaning suggesting the temporal aspect related to 'these days'.

[2] qayamat kya... proved very difficult to translate. qayamat carries a variety of meanings, refering literally to 'the day of judgment' but often the derived meaning indicates something of comparable intensity, particularly beauty. The metaphor is cleverly used by the poet to convey that the gathering is intensely beautiful, an 'apocalypic glory' - the apocalyptic part leads to the idea of it being at the threshold of this world and the 'hereafter', thereby being 'the beauty of both worlds'. This also suggests that the 'gathering' refered to is the 'gathering' of all humans/the world, for which his heart does not have the same desire anymore...

[3] shaahid-o-saaqi literally means 'witness and cup-bearer', and implies 'companion and attendant' which seem to go better in English in the context of this couplet.
dil bujhta jaata translated as 'the heart does suffocate' conveys the literal imagery of getting extinguished but also the deeper sense of the metaphor implying a mental / emotional suffocation.

[4] The last line literally means 'life goes out of life' which is typical of Jigar's style - conveying a 'heavy' thought with startlingly simple lyrical beauty...I have captured the idea here by the rhyming ' the very life of life is on the wane'.

Tabiyat In Dinon

2007-02-25T15:56:00.000-08:00

Tabiyat In Dinon
[By Jigar Moradabadi]

Tabiyat in dinon begaana-e-gham hoti jaati hai
Mere hisse ki goya har khushi kam hoti jaati hai

Qayaamat kya ye aye husn-e-do-aalam hoti jaati hai
Ke mehfil to wahi hai, dil-kashi kam hoti jaati hai

Wahi hai shaahid-o-saaqi magar dil bujhta jaata hai
Wahi hai shamma lekin roshni kam hoti jaati hai

Wahi hai zindagi lekin Jigar ye haal hai apna
Ke jaise zindagi se zindagi kam hoti jaati hai

This is one of my favorites by Jigar, for whose "song of myself" I attempted a translation earlier. Rendered classically by Begum Akhtar here...there is only one way to introduce Begum Akhtar: once her classical old-world charm starts growing on you, you just can't listen to anyone else for a while. There's also a pretty good version of this by Vinod Sehgal but couldn't find it online so far...

And here...

2007-02-08T09:10:00.000-08:00

Walking along
Heading for the Citizenship Court
Kent Street
I have been here seven years
Yet the same question
Where do you come from?

Cyril Dabydeen, South Asian - North American poet. Goatsong 1977.

Main Sar Jhukae Hue...

2007-02-01T20:40:00.000-08:00

Main sar jhukae hue, dard ko chhupae hue,
Palat ke aaya to har raah-guzar andheri thi...

psychic upheavals.
somewhere in south asia.

Life: Ghalib

2006-12-27T19:54:00.000-08:00

I really feel I should acknowledge Mirza Ghalib's birth anniversary here after reading this tribute.

Here's a lesser-known couplet that has haunted me for a while. I have realized that one of the special qualities of Ghalib's couplets is that instead of losing their appeal on repeated reading and mulling over, their value is actually enhanced...every time a new door of meanings, insinuations and perspectives opens up on revisiting the same couplet.

Often, such a couplet becomes a prism through which one continues to see everything in life for days and days. Even his lesser-known couplets are packed with such rich poetic flavor:

Umr har chand ki hai barq-e-khiraam
Dil ke khoon karne ki fursat hi sahi.
[By Mirza Ghalib]

Life’s moments are but lightning flashes,
And yet suffice to slay the heart. [1]
[Interpretive translation by Siyaah]

[1] "dil ke khoon karne" literally means to 'turn the heart to blood', but the metaphor is lost on an English audience. I have used the direct meaning of "khoon karna" as ' to slay'.

Confession: An interpretation

2006-12-08T23:00:00.000-08:00

Confession
[By Majaaz. Interpretive translation from the Urdu by Siyaah]

You come to me now – alas for what?

You are the visage of beauty, I deny not,
Of this garden of time, the very soul,
Dazzling as the sun, O youth of heavens,
Born of the moon, descended from worlds beyond

Yet to meet me now invites blame
My own deeds chastised me, to this end

Those days – of my fury unrestrained
A fury heedless of all but pleasures wild
A fury of love for burning moon embers
Of one-upmanship with the city’s men

My world was but a bed of roses,
A wonderful dream, of colors and beauty

What’s left to hear but wails of my youth, wounded
Pleas of my heart, complaints of my tears
My words drowned in agony deep
And I - a victim of my own cravings

That tender heart, long dead – how can I revive?
That innocent passion – where now can I find?

----
The poet's nom-de-plume, Majaaz, means "Metaphor" and also "Passing through".

Aitraaf: Confession

2006-11-28T20:13:00.000-08:00

Aitraaf: Confession
[By Majaaz]

Ab mere paas tum aayee ho to kya aayi ho
Maine maana ke tum ek paikar-e-raanaai ho
Chaman-e-dahr mein rooh-e-chaman-aaraai ho
Talat-e-mahr ho, firdaus ki barnaayi ho
Bint-e-mahtaab ho, gardoon se utar aayi ho

Mujhse milne mein ab andesha-e-ruswaai hai
Maine khud apne kiye ki ye sazaa paayi hai

Un dinon mujh pe qayamat ka junoon taari tha
Sar pe sarshaari-o-ishrat ka junoon taari tha
Maahpaaron se mohabbat ka junoon taari tha
Shahryaaron se raqaabat ka junoon taari tha

Bistar-e-makhmal-o-sanjaab thi duniya meri
Ek rangeen-o-haseen khwaab thi duniya meri

Kya sunogi meri majrooh jawaani ki pukaar
Meri faryaad-e-jigar-doz, mera naala-e-zaar
Shiddat-e-karb mein doobi hui meri guftaar
Main ke khud apne mazaaq-e-tarab-aageen ka shikaar

Wo gudaaz-e-dil-e-marhoom kahaan se laaun
Ab main wo jazba-e-maasoom kahaan se laaun

Asraar-ul-haq Majaaz (1911-1955) was born in Rudauli, Barabanki, near Lucknow in Uttar Pradesh. His poetic talent was noticeable even during his school days in Lucknow, where he befriended and was counseled by Jazbi. His college years were spent in Agra and Aligarh. Majaaz's later life is a subject of intrigue...depression and alcoholism played a major role in his premature death. He excelled in beautiful yet poignant expression, often centered around themes of unrequited love.

The above nazm is one of his most well known works...although the entire nazm is longer, I will attempt to translate the above parts. Jagjit has done some justice to it.

I live...

2006-11-15T20:31:00.000-08:00

I live at many levels
Flying high above Shanghai clouds
Firaq's earthen vernacular
Faiz's hope
Jazbi's despondency
All are me.

[By Siyaah/Black. Somewhere in Shanghai airspace, circa mid-2000's]

Existential Dilemma: a translation

2006-11-09T23:35:00.000-08:00

Existential Dilemma
[By Moin Ahsan Jazbi. Interpretive translation from the Urdu by Siyaah]

Why pray for death, why hope for life?
This world or the other- why desire either?

The fire that you lit- was doused by tears,
That which the tears have sparked, what will put out?

When the ship was safe and sound- who desired the shore,
Now, on this wreck- why desire it at all?

The world abandoned you Jazbi, why not abandon the world?
You've understood the world- why cry for it anymore?

--
The poet's nom-de-plume, Jazbi, means "one who absorbs / attracts".

The verses of this ghazal are ripe with idiomatic expressions. I have attempted to 'save the soul' and also kept it as literally close to the original as possible.
--

Update: As promised, here's a high quality recording of this ghazal rendered by Habib Wali. I noticed that this one is more classical, while the earlier one has more 'movie-song' type music:

Duniya: Existential Dilemma

2006-11-04T12:21:00.000-08:00

Duniya
[By Moin Ahsan Jazbi]

Marne ki duaein kyun maangoon, jeene ki tamanna kaun kare,
Ye duniya ho ya wo duniya, ab khwahish-e-duniya kaun kare.

Jo aag lagayi thi tum ne, usko to bujhaaya ashkon ne,
Jo ashkon ne bhaRhkai hai, us aag ko thanda kaun kare.

Jab kashti saabit-o-saalim thi, saahil ki tamanna kisko thi,
Ab aisi shikasta kashti par, saahil ki tamanna kaun kare.

Duniya ne humein chhoRha Jazbi, hum chhoRh na dein kyun duniya ko,
Duniya ko samajh kar baithe hain, ab duniya duniya kaun kare.

Jazbi (1912-2005) was born in Azamgarh and had a long association with Aligarh, where he received his Ph.D. in Urdu and continued as an academic. He is counted among the most prominent 20th century Urdu poets. His most famous poetry is excessively morose and even deals directly with existential issues. The ghazal above, which I have titled "Duniya", is one of his most well known works, and is typical of his style - highly lyrical yet easily interwoven with the most difficult themes.

Listen here to a quaint rendition of the above ghazal by the lesser known but highly regarded, Habib Wali (the sound quality isn't all that great. I might upload from my collection later).

Still...

2006-10-28T21:54:00.000-07:00

Still...
[By Firaq Gorakhpuri. Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

Who has ever belonged to another for life? Still...
This beauty and love is all deception; but still...

A thousand times has the world traversed through here-
Something about your passage is new still.

A lifetime has gone by in avoiding your gaze-
The dagger has pierced through to life's artery still. [3]

[3] rag could literally mean vein or artery.
neshtar literally means lancet, but the meaning contained in 'dagger' is closer to the context.

Phir Bhi

2006-10-26T18:26:00.000-07:00

Phir Bhi
[By Firaq Gorakhpuri]

Kisi ka yun to hua kaun umr bhar, phir bhi,
Ye husn-o-ishq to dhoka hai sab, magar phir bhi.

Hazaar baar zamaana idhar se guzra hai,
Nayi nayi si hai kuchh teri rahguzar phir bhi.

Teri nigaah se bachne mein umr guzari hai,
Utar gaya rag-e-jaan mein ye neshtar phir bhi.

I'm not aware if any prominent singer other than Jagjit (listen here) has sung this ghazal...though I wish there were more versions.

Raghupati Sahai Firaq (1896-1982) has a distinctive voice in many ways. He often used a mellifluous vernacular style based on the language spoken around his native region, Eastern Uttar Pradesh. The content of his poetry almost always borders on the melancholic, with night and darkness as repetitive metaphors and themes. The first couplet of his poem above reveals a rare cynicism with the more affable themes of ghazals...but it also suggests that he came to accept and live with his own disposition. Is it any surprise that I am drawn to his work...I'll render this into English verse soon...

The Blackening

2006-10-17T21:27:00.000-07:00

How many times have I laughed like hyenas,
with blood curdling silence clutching at my throat,
with the absorption of all,
and the absence of all,
at daggers drawn.

How many times mountains, seas, and plains,
have I crossed with my soul yearning for home,
with the blood in my veins,
and the words in my brain,
at daggers drawn.

How many times indeed have I,
looked back again and again to the skies,
with immunity, solitude, and isolation,
and life, the world, rejection and depression,
with what's left of my fingers recounting,
and the new look, in vain, again arising,
in this black ambience,
these black ages,
with black,
and black,
at daggers drawn.

[by Black/Siyaah, circa 1990's]
-----

I initially thought I wouldn't put down any of my own experimental poetry here. Mostly because I don't write anymore...anything I have is quite a bit old. But I already snuck one or two verses past the net. Sometimes I like these bits and pieces from long ago a lot - they were part of a freer me - a more intrinsic, natural me. I am slowly losing these pieces, in more ways than one - from my own being, my memory and also in terms of hardcopies - not sure I have them all anywhere anymore.

These pieces are perhaps the more 'personal' side of my personal interaction with poetry in general, and Urdu poetry in particular, which influences me at many levels. My own experiments led me to appreciate the real masters better, and see the pinnacle where they stood.

I've thus noted a very personal work here. The title and content reveals my fascination with the metaphor of black and blackening that I later admired in the works of the Urdu masters. I should perhaps mention that it was around this time that I first adopted the nom-de-plume "Black".

Exile: a translation

2006-10-13T18:47:00.000-07:00

Exile: Nahin Nigaah Mein Manzil
[By Faiz Ahmed Faiz. Interpretive translation from the Urdu by Siyaah]

Though the destination eludes sight- let the search be;
Though union defies attainment- let the longing be.

The body lacks blood, the eyes lack moisture-
Yet the prayer of desire is obligatory, without purity it may be. [2]

Let the gathering come alive somehow- O those of the tavern,
If not goblets of wine, let lightheartedness and laughter be.

If the wait is tough- then in the meantime, O heart,
On someone's promise of tomorrow - let conversation be. [4]

In this abode of strangers, if no confidant exists,
Faiz - let the invocation of homeland with yourself be. [5]

----
Translator's notes:

[2] Namaz: prayer - original word relates to ancient Persian form of worship. Be-wuzu: to not be in a state of ceremonial/physical preparedness for prayer. Wuzu literally refers to ablution preceding prayer.

[4] waada-e-fardaa: literally, promise of tommorrow. Fardaa also has implications of 'the day of the event', 'judgement day', 'day of resurrection'.

[5] Mehram: has many shades of meaning, including 'confidant', 'trustworthy friend', 'close relatives', 'spouse'. Zikr: has many shades of meaning, including 'mention', 'remember', and 'invoke' (often in a spiritual sense).

I have taken the liberty of titling these couplets "Exile", as a mood of exile and deprivation permeates the poem. The last couplet, which had prompted an earlier post, reveals it clearly.

Nahin Nigaah Mein Manzil: Faiz

2006-10-09T15:07:00.000-07:00

Following my earlier post and the interesting comments it invoked about Faiz, I must do justice to him and showcase the full ghazal here.

Nahin Nigaah Mein Manzil
[By Faiz Ahmed Faiz]

Nahin nigaah mein manzil to justujoo hi sahi,
Nahin visaal mayassar to aarzoo hi sahi.

Na tan mein khoon faraaham na ashq aankhon mein,
Namaaz-e-shauq to waajib hai, be-wuzu hi sahi.

Kisi tarah to jame bazm maikade waalon,
Nahin jo baada-o-saaghar, to haa-o-huu hi sahi.

Gar intezaar kathin hai to jab talak ai dil,
Kisi ke waada-e-fardaa ki guftgoo hi sahi.

Dayaar-e-ghair mein mehram agar nahin koi,
To Faiz zikr-e-watan apne ru-ba-ru hi sahi.

---
Listen to it here in Abida's voice.

Will attempt an interpretive translation into English soon...

Urdu Rap...anyone?

2006-10-04T16:09:00.000-07:00

Okay, I am stepping a bit out of character here to note something interesting that I stumbled upon: yes, rapping in Urdu. The group is Outlandish, and the person is Waqas Ali Qadri. Am still wondering what to make of this...a somewhat 'outlandish' yet contemporary expression form in Urdu...? The urdu comes in towards the end of the song.

Why Write?

2006-10-02T22:39:00.000-07:00

"I have been one of the fortunate ones of the Earth,
Having gazed upon Beauty and Truth all my days,
And I had no need to think or to write concerning them,
But when Beauty and Truth were withdrawn from me,
I found I could no longer live without them,
But I was obliged to keep them ever by my side,
I therefore wrote of them,
and to write I thought of them,
And by thinking kept them with me and they stayed."
[by Stanley de Vere Alexander Julius, "The Poem of a Prisoner of War, 1917"]

If all we have is human experience, what can we do with it? We hold on to and communicate these experiences...through language. Humans are drawn to strings of words...that are ultimately the vehicles for communicating our experiences.

Interestingly, the recreation and communication of experience often reaches its zenith when immediate outlets are few. Is it any surprise that some of the most moving poetic expressions were created in incarceration. Faiz comes to mind:

"Dayaar-e-ghair mein mehram agar nahin koi,
To Faiz zikr-e-watan apne ru-ba-ru hi sahi."

Incarcerations though could also be of the mind, and not necessarily behind physical iron cages. Firaq's lifelong search for beauty outside his immediate life and the recurring portrayal of "night" and "darkness" as themes in his verses come to mind:

"Ghazal ka saaz uthao badi udaas hai raat,
Nawaa-e-Meer sunao badi udaas hai raat."
[Listen to it sung beautifully by Jagjit here]

I'll explore the entire ghazals related to these Urdu verses soon...

More Than You: a translation

2006-09-28T17:22:00.000-07:00

More Than You
[By Majrooh Sultanpuri. Translated from the Urdu by Siyaah]

Dare you teach us of fury? - we were distressed more than you.
We had our collars slashed through, O friends- way more than you.

The slashed-through heart needs patches- today the garments are but blood,
A season there was when we did yearn, for spring more than you.

To scale the peaks of loyalty with friends, to cater to whims of associates with smiles:
Then we had such desires as you do - now are we disgraced more than you.

Go - for the sake of your dawn, slice all flames off lighted candles-
The gifts and crescent of our wounds suffice- our celebrations alight more than you.

It is we who were slain always, and you who watched always from afar-
Think not however that we have suffered, a loss of life more than you.

Chains and walls is all you saw- Majrooh, and yet we:
Still search every nook and corner, to find one alive more than you.

---
The poet's nom-de-plume Majrooh means "Wounded".

Tumse Ziyaada: More Than You

2006-09-26T18:24:00.000-07:00

Hum ko junoon kya sikhlaate ho, hum the pareshaan tum se ziyaada,
Chaak kiye hain humnein azizon, chaar gerehbaan tumse ziyaada.

Chaak-e-jigar mohtaaj-e-rafoo hai, aaj to daaman sirf lahoo hai,
Ek mausam tha hum ko rahaa hai shauq-e-bahaaraan tumse ziyaada.

Ahd-e-wafaa yaaron se nibhaaen, naaz-e-hareefaan hans ke uthaaen,
Tab humein armaan tum se siwaa tha, ab hain pashemaan tumse ziyaada.

Jaao tum apne baam ki khaatir, saari lauwen shamon ki katar lo,
Zakhm ke mahar-o-maah salaamat, jashn-e-chiraaghaan tumse ziyaada.

Hum bhi hameshaa qatl hue, aur tumne bhi dekha door se lekin,
Ye na samajhnaa hum ko hua hai jaan ka nukhsaan tumse ziyaada.

Zanjeer-o-deewaar hi dekhi tumne to Majrooh, magar hum:
Kucha kucha dekh rahe hain aalam-e-zindaan tumse ziyaada.

---
While on the subject of Junoon in my last couple of posts, I stumbled upon this one, by (surprise!) Majrooh Sultanpuri. Majrooh is better known for his happy-go-lucky lyrics for movies, though his roots were in 'serious' poetry at which he excelled as well. His live rendition of the above is haunting...the voice quality is bad (took some effort to transliterate into Roman)...but it really grows on you once you've heard it a couple of times. It sounds as though this was recorded towards the later part of his life...the nostalgic content of the ghazal "More than you" suggests that as well.

Am eager to get down to translating this one soon...

O Frenzy: A Translation

2006-09-22T18:32:00.000-07:00

O Frenzy: Ae Junoon
[By Suroor Barabankvi. Interpretive translation by Siyaah]

O Frenzy- reveal somewhat, at what destination am I?
In the lover's protective neighborhood, or in the killer's lair am I?

Moving on foot, carrying my cross on my shoulders,
I am the emissary of truth, but enclosed by falsehood am I.

Imagining celebrations at tomorrow's resurrection keeps this blood circulating,
I am in the present, but alive in my future am I.

Struck breathless I am by this vision of the gallows,
I am the slain, but in the ranks of the slayers am I.

He, from whom I have been estranged for ages-
Face to face with him today, and in a crowded gathering am I.

---

For this ghazal, I've tried to keep the rhyme of the original in English. Suroor Barabankvi's lines are very lyrical yet filled with sophisticated imagery and meanings. His takhallus, "Suroor" means exhilatration, often implying a state of 'making glad' such as that caused through inebriation.

I've always felt that this ghazal of his deserves more regard than it seems to have got...I quite enjoyed translating it. Unlike traditional ghazals, there seems to be more of a theme across all the couplets...depending on one's interpretations. For example, in the last couplet, the 'he' (which is really gender neutral in Urdu) could simply be another person / beloved...but I think it could also be the poet himself, or even a divine 'He'. The last interpretation is interesting in line with other couplets where Christ-like situations are described.

Ae Junoon Kuchh To Khule: O Frenzy

2006-09-19T21:54:00.000-07:00

Ae junoon kuchh to khule aakhir main kis manzil mein hoon
Hoon jawaar-e-yaar mein ya koocha-e-qaatil mein hoon.[1]

Paabajola apne shaanon par liye apni saleeb,
Main safeer-e-haq hoon lekin nargha-e-baatil mein hoon. [2]

Jashn-e-fardaa ke tasavvur se lahoo gardish mein hai,
Haal mein hoon aur zinda apne mustaqbil mein hoon. [3]

Dum bakhud hoon ab sare maqtal ye manzar dekh kar,
Main ke khud maqtool hoon lekin saf-e-qaatil mein hoon. [4]

Ek zamaana ho gaya bichhre hue jis se Suroor,
Aaj usi ke saamne hoon aur bhari mehfil mein hoon.

---
[1] jawaar-e-yaar: in neighborhood of / under protection of friend or lover.
koocha-e-qaatil: residence of killer

[2] shaanon: shoulders; saleeb: crucifix / cross
safeer-e-haq: ambassador of righteousness / truth
nargha-e-baatil: nargha: assembly / rank / circle formed by hunters for enclosing game. baatil: falsehood / evil

[3] jashn-e-fardaa: celebration of tomorrow / day of resurrection
tassavvur: imagination; lahoo: blood; gardish: circulation
haal: present; mustaqbil: future

[4] dum bakhud: without breath; maqtal: place of slaughter / execution
maqtool: executed person; saf-e-qaatil: assembly / rank of killer

Listen to the poet himself, Suroor Barabankvi (1930-1980), reciting this ghazal in a live mushairaa with accompanying applause (click the last link on the page).

I'll atttempt to render the entire ghazal in English verse soon...

"Understanding Everything"

2006-09-18T13:16:00.000-07:00

Ai murgh-e-sahar ishq ze parwaaneh biyaamoz
Kaan sookht raa jaan shud wa aawaaz nayaamad.
Aain maddayaan dar talbash be-khabar-aanand
Kaan raa keh khabar shud khabari baaz nayaamad.
[From Gulistaan by Saadi Shiraazi, 13th century Persian poet]

O bird of the morning, learn love from the moth,
Because it burnt, lost its life, and found no voice.
These pretenders are ignorantly in search of Him,
Because he who obtained knowledge has not returned.
[Translated from the Persian by Edward Rehatsek]

---

Aql ke madarse se uth,
ishq ke mai'kade mein aa,
Jaam-e-fanaa-o-bekhudi,
ab to piyaa jo ho so ho.
[by Hazrat Shah Niaz]

Arise from these seminaries of intellect and analysis,
Come to the taverns of love,
The goblet of annihilation and self-detachment,
I have now consumed, let what will be, be.
[Interpretive translation by Siyaah]

Rendered beautifully here by Abida Parveen for Muzaffar Ali's "Raqs-e-Bismil: Dance of the Wounded".

----

In the past several days, I have been thinking of "Understanding" and "Experience", both as an internal existential dilemma, but also as an occupational necessity. How much can we really know, understand or analyze? Everything we know - whether in the natural or social sciences - is ultimately bounded by the fact of our being human. We therefore record human "experiences" rather than "knowledge" in any objective sense. This thought (and analysis!) has instilled in me a new-found appreciation for "experience". Perhaps we cannot ever fully understand existence, but can only experience it by being part of it.

The Blossoms: An Interpretation

2006-09-14T22:02:00.000-07:00

The Blossoms
[By Mirza Ghalib. Interpretive translation by Siyaah]

There's a restlessness in this heart again,
This bosom seeks wounds afresh. [1]

The heart is ploughed through again,
Here comes the season of blossoms red. [2]

Dying for that betrayer again,
It's my same old life, all over again.

This unconscious state - not without cause or reason, Ghalib
There's something here that's surely being veiled. [4]

[1] joyaa: seek / search for ; zakhm: wound
[2] jigar: literally, 'liver', but equivalent in English usage to 'heart' as the 'seat of emotions', especially love.
aamad: Here comes / arrives; fasl: season / harvest; laala: flowers, typically red.
[4] bekhudi: literally, 'detachment from self'. Has many shades of meaning, such as an unconscious / careless / forgetful / oblivious state. Also refers to being inebriated, or even being spiritually connected with the divine. Thus carries both 'positive' and 'negative' connotations, depending on the context and interpretation.
besabab: without cause / reason / motive
pardadaari: literally, the act of veiling.

I've taken the liberty of titling this selection of couplets 'The Blossoms' which is not its traditional title. It refers to the ironic usage of 'blossoms red' in Couplet [2], a visual that is beautiful yet distressing - the red blossoms in context also carrying an implication of 'blood' after the heart is 'ploughed'. This irony permeates the entire poem - a mood of despair where what could have seemed positive is revealed as negative. The last couplet seems to challenge this mood somewhat, and leaves one ambivalent about the poet's real state.

Aamad-e-Fasl: The Blossoms

2006-09-13T22:35:00.000-07:00

Phir kuchh is dil ko beqaraari hai
Seena joyaa-e-zakhm-e-kaari hai

Phir jigar khodne lagaa naakhoon,
Aamad-e-fasl-e-laala-kaari hai.

Phir usi bewafaa pe marte hain,
Phir wahi zindagi hamaari hai.

Be-khudi be-sabab nahin Ghalib,
Kuchh to hai jiski parda-daari hai.

Listen to it here, Jagjit Singh in one of his more mellow moods. The 'aamad-e-fasl' couplet with its brilliant metaphor has always fascinated me...I'll attempt an interpretive translation in English soon.

Afsaana-e-Hasti: The Story of Life

2006-09-11T22:17:00.000-07:00

Jigar says:

Jis qadar afsaana-e-hasti ko dohrataa hoon main,
aur bhi begaana-e-hasti hua jaataa hoon main.

The more I repeat life everyday,
The further away from life I stray.
[Interpretive translation by Siyaah]

-----
afsaana-e-hasti: story of being / life

...and I'll let that stand here on its own, to be pondered upon. It's another couplet of the ghazal I just translated.

By Nature A Poet: Interpretive Translation of 'Shaayar-e-Fitrat'

2006-09-10T01:15:00.000-07:00

Jigar's verse moves like a river - effortless. Beautiful to behold in its natural ebb and flow, yet deep and much layered. His 'Shaayar-e-Fitrat' is in many ways perhaps a 'song of myself' in its own poetic tradition, as Walt Whitman would put it in his.

Balancing the literal and the implied, and also attempting to preserve somewhat of the original beauty of Jigar's verses, this took me quite some time to translate...but I loved every moment of it (I've followed the verse order of my earlier post).

By Nature A Poet
[By Jigar Moradabadi. Interpretive translation by Siyaah]

By nature a poet, when I do reflect-
As a spirit I soar through nature's every speck. [1]

Estrangement from you, O friend, I so dread-
As if an aspect of life disappears from life's every aspect. [2]

Alas, these opressive constraints- these reasons to forsake love,
She attempts to convince me, and I, - to convince her back. [3]

Behold my courage, behold my state:
I tangle up yet again- the strands I have untangled. [4]

Bravo, O deathwish, towards the killer's lair-
Humming, dancing and swinging- I am on my way. [5]

Your congress, your displays- who then cares for restraints,
Here, I arise, and here, - I am out and on my way. [6]

One heart, and a relentless storm of accidents, O Jigar,
A piece of glass, shattered on every rock I've met. [7]

-----
Translator's notes:

[Couplet 1] fikr: to be concerned about something; on its own it also implies to reflect about the world / life with care and concern, often in a spiritual sense.
zarra-zarra: literally means atom or smallest particle. In this context it implies nature's smallest possible particle, thus I chose 'nature's every speck'.
samaa jaata: literally means 'come to reside in / possess'. I have used 'soar through' as a derivative meaning that preserves the effect in English.

[3] wo: the third person pronoun in Urdu can apply to both genders, though I use the female gender here.
tark-e-mohabbat: literally, forsaking of love.

[5] shauq-e-shahaadat: literally, shauq means desire; shahaadat means 'to witness (the truth) / to be martyred'. I have used the idiomatic 'deathwish' familiar in English.
ku-e-qaatil: literally, residence of killer. Also implies 'residence of beloved', as qaatil is also a term of endearment (similar to 'killer looks'). 'Lair' fits the dual meanings here well with its usage as 'den' and 'a resting place'.

[6] mehfil: literally means a gathering or congress of people, and can also mean tribunal. 'teri mehfil' means 'your gathering', and is an expression that could imply 'a gathering in your honor / where you are in-charge / where you are the most cherished'.

[7] toofaan-e-hawaadis: literally toofaan means storm, and hawadis is the plural of haadsa i.e. accident, misfortune, calamity, tragedy.

In the tradition of the ghazal, the poet signs his poem in the last couplet. Jigar is the non-de-plume or takhallus of Ali Sikander, and his last name, Moradabadi, derives from the city of his roots. Jigar literally means 'liver', which was traditionally considered the 'seat of courage', and sometimes like the heart, also the 'seat of love'. The word jigar thus generally equates with courage, and here interestingly the poet exclaims 'O Courage' while metaphorically describing the uneven battle of his life in the last couplet.

As here, I'll mostly try to introduce poets through their poetry, rather than the other way round. A poet's work is the best introduction.

From Childhood's Hour: Alone

2006-09-09T01:48:00.000-07:00

On hindsight, I notice that Pirzada Qasim's self-critique and Jigar Moradabadi's self description that I posted relate deeply to each other. Perhaps these choices were a natural outgrowth of the state of my mind in the last few days. While one accuses the self of being strange, the other accepts and retorts by saying- indeed, he is by nature a poet.

Why do poetry and 'strangeness' go hand in hand?

I am tempted to note my favorite lines by a poet from another dimension, that perhaps relate to this...

Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were - I have not seen
- as others saw.
[by Edgar Allan Poe]

Thoughts echoed in more contemporary times in a different voice: Javed Akhtar, recognized for his scripts, dialogues, and popular lyrics, has tried reverting to his poetic heritage, sometimes with interesting results.

Hum to bachpan mein bhi akele the,
Sirf dil ki gali mein khele the.

Alone was I, even in childhood,
The lanes of the heart, were my only playground.
[Translated by Siyaah]

Shaayar-e-Fitrat Hoon Main

2006-09-07T15:51:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about which Jigar Moradabadi poem I should showcase and interpret first...I like quite a few.

Today a friend whom I haven't met in a few years called me up...we talked of life's blackening canvas, of the innumerable strands of threads in life needing attention, resolution. "All strands are one", he said. "A tangled up string of thread needs one point of initiation to resolve, and the entire bundle resolves magically...". It sounded like a sufistic metaphor and solution to life.

Unless of course we unresolve it once again...out of choice, as Jigar [Couplet 4 below]. Which brings me to what is perhaps Jigar's signature ghazal. I will transliterate my favorite couplets from Urdu here:

Shaayar-e-fitrat hoon main: By nature a poet...

Shaayar-e-fitrat hoon main, jab fikr farmaataa hoon main,
rooh ban kar zarre-zarre mein samaa jaataa hoon main.

Aake tujh bin is tarah ai dost ghabraataa hoon main,
jaise har sheh mein kisi sheh ki kamin paataa hoon main.

Haae ri majbooriyaan, tark-e-mohabbat ke liye,
mujh ko samjhaate hain wo aur un ko samjhaataa hoon main.

Meri himmat dekhna, meri tabiyat dekhna,
jo sulajh jaati hai gutthi phir se uljhaataa hoon main. [4]

Waah re shauq-e-shahaadat, ku-e-qaatil ki taraf,
gun-gunaata, raqs karta, jhoomta jaataa hoon main

Teri mehfil tere jalwe, phir taqaaza kya zaroor,
le utha jaata hoon zaalim, le chala jaataa hoon main.

Ek dil hai aur toofaan-e-hawaadis ai Jigar,
ek sheeshaa hai ke har patthar se takraataa hoon main.
---
Listen to this ghazal sung beautifully by Vinod Sehgal here...and wonder, like me why Vinod isn't more popular as a ghazal singer.

---
I'll attempt an interpretation and translation of these couplets soon...

On ghazal singing

2006-09-06T20:21:00.000-07:00

The ghazal lends itself naturally to classical singing. So deep has this connection become that many ghazal lovers identify ghazals with the singers who made these ghazals popular, rather than with the poets. I heard most classical ghazals through contemporary singers, as earlier ghazals were penned at times when no audio recordings were possible...

This deep connection between a well established poetry form and classical singing is perhaps unique to the Urdu ghazal and South Asian musical traditions. I have wondered about why this is...

The ghazal as a poetry form is unsurpassed in terms of its rhyme quality, following the rhyming structure:
...A
...A [Couplet 1]
...B
...A [Couplet 2]
...C
...A [Couplet 3]

And often, in the hands of the most fluent and traditional-style poets, also:

...Y, PQA
...Y, PQA [Couplet 1]
..........B
...Y, PQA [Couplet 2]
..........C
...Y, PQA [Couplet 3]

The ghazal I recently translated, Peerzada Qasim's "Aap bohot ajeeb hain" is a beautiful example of the latter. Among 20th century poets, Jigar Moradabadi was also a natural at the latter form.

This circular structure of the ghazal lends itself well to singing. Once the first couplet [matla] is set to a classical melodios tune [raga], subsequent couplets follow the lead tune in a circular manner. Often, the first line of the first couplet is repeated after each subsequent couplet with a beautiful rhyming effect.

Ragas are all about mood. These classical musical compositions were meant to be entire experiences in themselves, instilling particular moods and feelings in the listeners. How naturally this then fits the ghazal! The ghazal is also about an experience of moods and feelings but through the layered meanings of the verses. Often, the singer's skill at composing a tune for a ghazal is all about picking the most appropriately matching raga on which to build the entire composition. When this is done well, the results are out of this world.

Is it any surprise that this poetry form and singing tradition took to each other and are now inseparable?

Fard-e-amal Siyaah kiye jaa raha...

2006-09-05T23:57:00.000-07:00

Fard-e-amal siyaah kiye jaa raha hoon main,
Rahmat ko bepanaah kiye jaa raha hoon main.
[By Jigar Moradabadi]

Blackening life's canvas of deeds to the extreme,
It is I who expand divine compassion to the limitless.
[Interpretive translation by Siyaah]

Jigar is one of my favorites. Some more on him with translations soon...

My Interpretation: "You Indeed Are Strange"

2006-09-05T18:48:00.000-07:00

As promised, I've started the exercise of interpreting and translating Pirzada Qasim's "Aap Bohot Ajeeb Hain" from Urdu into English. I try to retain some of the aura of the original lines in terms of their complex and layered meanings, and yet also try to convey what the lines meant literally. It's a tough balancing act. I'll continue to edit and improve some lines as I go along...

You Indeed Are Strange
[By Pirzada Qasim. Translated from the original by Siyaah]

In grief do you find solace, you indeed are strange,
Pain, you take to with ease, you indeed are strange. [1]

Your beloved's shade, with arms outstretched, awaits you for long,
You prefer solitary scorching travails, you indeed are strange. [2]

The judgement against you, flows forth from your own pen,
You but wring your hands in despair, you indeed are strange. [3]

Time blew out long ago, the flame of your hope,
You still melt as wax, you indeed are strange.

Efforts to strike you down again, you spare your friend,
You fall and rise by yourself, you indeed are strange. [5]

Love's paths utimately lead always to the same state,
You change your path again, you indeed are strange. [6]

All wonders of the wilderness reside at your home,
Why then do you step out, you indeed are strange. [7]

These wanderings in search of yourself, will they ever abate,
You walk even in your sleep, you indeed are strange.
---

Translator's notes:
Dhal rahe hain in couplet [1] has no exact equivalent expression in English. It could mean 'take the form of', 'become comfortable', 'conditioned', etc. 'Take to' seems the closest expression possible to convey the various meanings.

Saaya-e-Vasl in couplet [2]: Vasl literally means 'union' and could also imply 'consummation'. Saaya-e-Vasl is therefore literally 'shade of union'. I have captured the effect by the image of the 'shade of the beloved's outstretched arms', and contrasted the union implied by adding 'solitary' in the second line.

Haath bhi mal rahe hain in couplet [3]: literally means 'rubbing one's hands' and is a gesture of loss and helplessness in Urdu, but has a very different meaning in English, as in 'rubbing one's hands in glee'! I finally chose 'wring one's hands' as a more accurate expression in English.

Zahmat-e-zarbat-e-digar in couplet [5]: 'digar' is often mis-transliterated as 'jigar' on many websites. This beautiful expression is composed of Persian words: Zahmat: effort, obligation; Zarbat: strike, hit; Digar: again, another.

Dairawaar in couplet [6]: literally means 'bounded in a circle'.

Dasht in couplet [7]: literally conveys a mix of the meanings in 'desert' and 'wilderness'.

On Translations and Bilingualism

2006-09-04T14:55:00.000-07:00

I have often thought long and hard about translations of poems, particularly of Urdu poetry into English. Dick Davis, a translator of Persian poetry into English has laid out the issues brilliantly in "On Not Translating Hafez" and created interesting poetry out of his own dilemma in "A Translator's Nightmare".

Urdu poetry's roots lie deep in Persian poetry, in terms of both style and content, and Dick's thoughts on translating Hafez apply equally to translating Urdu poetry.

However, the reality of bilingual affiliations still propels some of us to translate what we found beautiful in one language into another. I am somewhat less pessimistic about the possibilities than Dick.

Translations are essential. They fulfil many purposes...fostering an understanding of other languages and cultures to some extent; aiding understanding for those whose knowledge of the original language is limited but not non-existent: this applies particularly to Urdu poetry which has universal appeal across South Asia even amongst those whose first language is not Urdu; and quite simply, giving the authors their due in the form of international recognition.

K. C. Kanda's recent translations of Urdu poetry have filled a colossal void. Perhaps our inspiration should also come from the relentless attempts by people like Agha Shahid Ali who not only translated Urdu poetry but also introduced Persian / Urdu poetry forms such as the ghazal into English as original English poetry.

Translations aside, bilingualism can find expression in strange experimental ways:
'All words that exist have already been used;
Ab tum se kuchh kahoon to kis zubaan mein kahoon.'

Similar transpositions of Persian and Hindi lines by Amir Khusro form interesting poetry at the time of Urdu's origins, as in:
'Zihale miskin makun tagaful
duraye naina banaye batiyaan'
[Listen to this sung beautifully by Chhaya Ganguli here, from the album Husn-e-Jaana composed by Muzaffar Ali]

What this means is that I will attempt translations of Urdu poetry in these pages, starting with Pirzada Qasim's "Aap Bohot Ajeeb Hain" into English...if nothing else, this will be an exercise in understanding Dick's dilemma more deeply.

Stranger's spot

2006-09-04T13:56:00.000-07:00

'If you look at the city from here,
You'll find a lot of things you thought didn't exist anywhere...'

You Indeed Are Strange: A self-critique

2006-09-04T12:37:00.000-07:00

For several days, I have been enthralled by what I consider Pirzada Qasim's self-critique of the poetic sensibility: Aap bohot ajeeb hain: You indeed are strange.

I feel as if Pirzada steps back, takes a look at the poet in himself - and perhaps at all those who share a similar poetic sensibility - and comments on how puzzling and 'irrational' the poet's behavior is. The unifying, underlying theme of this ghazal is the recurring refrain at the end of each couplet, the accusation directed at himself in the second person that 'You indeed are strange'. Here is my transliteration of the entire ghazal:

Gham se bahel rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.
Dard mein dhal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.

Saaya-e-vasl kab se hai aapka muntazir magar
Hijr mein jal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.

Apne khilaaf faisla khud hi likha hai aap ne
Haath bhi mal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.

Waqt ne aarzoo ki lau, der hui bujha bhi di
Ab bhi pighal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.

Zehmat-e-zarbat-e-digar dost ko dijiye nahin
Girke sambhal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.

Dairaawaar hi to hain ishq ke raaste tamaam
Raah badal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.

Dasht ki saari raunaqen, khair se ghar mein hain to kyun
Ghar se nikal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.

Apni talaash ka safar khatm bhi kijiye kabhi
Khwaab mein chal rahe hain aap, Aap bohot ajeeb hain.
-----

Listen to the spellbinding recitation of this ghazal by Pirzada himself in a live Mushaira (click on the last poem, "Gham se...")

I also try to browse the original in Urdu script to make sure I've got the words right...I've found a version here.
-----

I feel compelled to note that 'Strangeness' has also been a subject of fascination for many other poets. In another poetic dimension, Jim Morrison's (The Doors) cynic commentary puts it in a way that I always found interesting:
People are strange, when you're a stranger...

On Siyaah

2006-09-03T23:47:00.000-07:00

On "Siyaah" (literally meaning "black" in Urdu and Persian), I intend to showcase pieces of Urdu poetry that strike me as interesting...as and when I'm in the mood.

Often I will also attempt a translation of verses I like, sometimes entire poems, and will also try to record translations by others where I find these interesting.

I also hope to comment on the verses and translations. With no pretensions to formal training or education in the art of Urdu poetry, these comments are expected to be no more than personal ruminations, perhaps revealing why I found the verses interesting in the first place.

Siyaah will essentially be a place where I record verses and accompanying ruminations for myself. It would be a very personal interaction with Urdu poetry...a journey of the self through an understanding and interpretation of the works of Urdu poets...