Urge to Fly - poetry

Ghalib's 'Strife of Coquetry'

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 20:40:00 +0530

One of the unique features of the Ghazal form of poetry is that each she’r (couplet) does not depend for thematic continuity on the other couplets. It is complete by itself, and can be quoted in isolation. This, however, is not a mandatory condition. There is a form of ghazals called the musalsal ghazal (continuous ghazal), where the entire ghazal presents one theme and should be read as a unified whole.

It is not always easy to classify a ghazal as a continuous one. Take this one by Ghalib for example (the translations are taken from Sarfaraz Niazi’s book Love Sonnets of Ghalib, although I have changed the Sarfaraz Niazi’s translation from ‘after my death’ to ‘after me’, as I think ‘after me’ is more open to interpretation than ‘after my death’).

husn ghamze ki kashakash se chhuta mere b’aad
baare aaraam se hain ahl-e-jafa mere b’aad

Freed of the constant strife of coquetry is Beauty, after me
Finally, the oppressors are at ease, after me

mansab-e-sheftagi ke koi qaabil na raha
hui ma’azooli-e-andaaz-o-adaa mere b’aad

No one remained worthy to fill the ranks of mad lovers
The style and coquetry have been dethroned, after me

shama’a bujhti hai to us mein se dhuaan uthta hai
sholah-e-ishq siyaahposh hua mere b’aad

A streak of smoke billows out when a candle is extinguished
The flame of love has taken a black mourning garb, after me

khoon hai dil khaak mein ahvaal-e-butaan par y’aani
un ke naakhoon hue mohtaaj-e-hina mere b’aad

My heart…

How Thomas Hardy Introduced Me to Allama Iqbal

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 16:20:00 +0530

I have a few obsessions in life: old Hindi film music (specifically Lata Mangeshkar songs) and Urdu poetry. My initiation into the wondrous world of old Hindi film music was through a Lata Mangeshkar compilation called I Remember Madan Mohan, so Madan Mohan is also special. Although I wouldn't call it an obsession, I'm very fond of reading classic literature as well.

It isn't very often that all of one's obsessions converge in the same thing. At the time when I had just started dabbling with Urdu poetry, I watched a 1967 Dharmendra-Nutan starrer Dulhan Ek Raat Ki on video. My primary reason for watching that film was that it was based on Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles. While Indian literature had been a source for Hindi films in the 50s and 60s, there hadn't been very many instances of Hindi film taking inspiration from an English classic.

The film was expectedly quite Indianized, but retained the primary thematic thread of the original. But it isn't great cinema. What stayed with me was the soundtrack that had some melodious compositions by Madan Mohan, which included the lovely Mohd. Rafi solo Ek Haseen Shaam Ko and exquisite Lata Mangeshkar solos like the Piloo based Maine Rang Li Aaj Chunariya, the quintessential piano song Kai Din Se Jee Hai Bekal, and the melodious Sapnon Mein Agar Mere. But the song that I got completely obsessed with was the qawwali Kabhi Aye Haqeeqat-e-Muntazir. The heavily Persianized Urdu of the lyrics were very difficult…

Ghalib in Hindi Films

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 21:30:00 +0530

I realize that the title of this post can be a little misleading. This is not about Mirza Ghalib, the 1954 film by Sohrab Modi that had Bharat Bhushan and Suraiya in lead roles. I am talking about how Ghalib’s poetry has been adapted in Hindi films. Again, not Ghalib’s ghazals that were used in that film., but about adaptation of his poetry.

While searching for rare Lata Mangeshkar melodies from the 40s and 50s, I came across a ghazal from the 1950 film Aadhi Raat, composed by Husnalal Bhagatram. The song went:

दिल ही तो है तड़प गया, दर्द से भर न आए क्यूँ
रोएंगे हम हज़ार बार कोई हमें सताए क्यूँ

रोते हुए गुज़ार दी जिसने तमाम ज़िन्दगी
उसको हँसी से काम क्या कोई उसे हँसाए क्यूँ

ऐ मेरे बदनसीब दिल देख ये तेरी भूल है
तू तो ख़िज़ाँ का फूल है तुझ पे बहार आए क्यूँ

आँख में आँसू दिल में ग़म जीने को जी रहे हैं हम
मौत से पहले ज़िन्दगी ग़म से निजात पाए क्यूँ

Dil hi to hai tadap gaya dard se bhar na aaye kyuN
RoeNge hum hazaar baar koi hameiN sataye kyuN

Rote hue guzaar di jisne tamam zindagi
Usko haNsi se kaam kya koi use haNsaye kyuN

Ae mere badnaseeb dil dekh ye teri bhool hai
Tu to khizaaN ka phool hai tujh pe bahar aaye kyuN

AaNkh meiN aaNsoo dil meiN gham jine ko ji rahe haiN hum
Maut se pehle zindagi gham se nijaat paye kyuN

Just read the opening…

A Clever Verse

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 12:00:00 +0530

One of my favorite songs these days is from Sudhir Mishra’s forthcoming Khoya Khoya Chand. What drew me to this song was that it had elements of qawwali (I have always been fascinated by this genre of music), and, more importantly, absolutely outstanding lyrics by Swanand Kirkire….

आज शब जो चाँद ने है रूठने की ठान ली
गर्दिशों में हैं सितारे बात हम ने मान ली
अन्धेरी स्याह ज़िन्दगी को सूझती नहीं गली
कि आज हाथ थाम लो एक हाथ की कमी खली

Aaj shab jo chand ne hai roothne ki thaan li
Gardishon mein hain sitare baat humne maan li
Andheri syaah zindagi ko soojhti nahin gali
Ki aaj haath thaam lo ki haath ki kami khali

The meter used in these lines, alternate long and short syllables, makes the rhythm easy to grasp and instantly appealing.

While listening to the song, I was quite stumped by one line:

क्यूँ तू आज इतना वहशी है मिज़ाज में मजाज़ है ऐ ग़म-ए-दिल
Kyun tu aaj itna vahshi hai mizaaj mein majaaz hai aye gham-e-dil

I just couldn't understand the usage of the word 'majaaz'. Of course, this word sits very well phonetically with the earlier 'mizaaj', but what did the line mean? Mizaaj means temperament/ disposition; Majaaz on the other has multiple meanings like metaphor, allowable, artifice. So this would translate as:

Why are you so mad today, there’s ‘metaphor’ in your temperament, O sorrow of the heart!

This does not make much sense, does it? I kept struggling to decipher…

Water of Life

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Mon, 30 Apr 2007 19:55:00 +0530

Mohammad Hussain Azad's Aab-e-hayaat (Water of Life) is regarded as the first documented 'history' of Urdu literature. It is a book that has shaped and influenced the thoughts of the Urdu literary community all through the 20th century. I'm not much of an on-line reader, so while a link to the online version of the English translation by F.W Pritchett and S.R Faruqui figures prominently in my IE favorites folder, I desperately wanted to own a copy of the book. So you can imagine my delight when I found an old copy of this translation at a bookshop last week.

As I opened the book, I was quite amused by the very first line. The translators try to warn the reader –

"Āb-e ḥayāt is not a trustworthy history of Urdu literature. It cannot and should not be read as such."

Now, this is interesting… the first documented 'history' of Urdu literature is not 'trustworthy' after all. As I dived deeper into the initial chapters – the translators' introductory notes – it became obvious to me that the translators felt very strongly about what Azad had written in this seminal book.

"The unique power exerted by Āb-e ḥayāt is what made us decide to translate this exasperating, moving, wrongheaded, fascinating, all-too-persuasive text."

As I moved further along, I understood why FWP and SRF used these words to describe the book. While theorizing on the history of Urdu literature, Azad starts off with a critique, going completely ballistic in condemning the stagnation…

Ghalib's Meaning Generator

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Sun, 15 Apr 2007 20:10:00 +0530

The other day I had an intellectually stimulating discussion on literature and poetry with an office colleague. That made me realize that I've been neglecting poetry for a while now. Take this blog for example. When I started this blog, my intention was to write about my two major passions - poetry and films. While I have written about films consistently and diligently, I have not written much about poetry.

So for a change, I want to write about poetry. And what better way to do that than returning to the unfathomable depths of Ghalib's poetry?

In the context of ghazals, one characteristic that provides an enjoyable multivalence to a couplet (she'r) is called Ma'ani-Aafrini (म`नी-आफ़िरीनी) or, in other words, 'meaning-creation'. Simply put, this refers to a sitiation where a single couplet or she'r can have more than one meaning. If one were to go by S.R Faruqui's definition: 'meaning-creation' refers to a style of expression in which in a single utterance a number of kinds of meanings are manifest or hidden.

Mind you, this multivalence of meaning does not come merely by some clever punning of words; in many cases it can come from varied emphasis on different words or sometimes even by calculated omission of the 'subject' in a sentence - leaving the field open for varied interpretations.

Ghalib's poetry has many instances of 'meaning-creation'. In one of his letters to his friend Tafta, Ghalib says:

भाई शा`इरी म`नी-आफ़िरीनी है क़ाफ़ियह-पेमाई नहीं है
(My friend, poetry is meaning-creation, it's…

A Tribute to Ghalib

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Fri, 29 Dec 2006 19:50:00 +0530

It was Mirza Asadullah Khan 'Ghalib' s birthday on December 27th. Like a ritual, a few events were organized in the capital to commemorate the occasion. A series of events at Ghalib's old haveli at Ballimaran, a handful of hastily organized mushairas, a couple of programmes on TV - and we had done our duty of remembering one of the greatest Urdu poets ever (in my opinion, The Greatest).

For me, however, Ghalib is more than just a poet. He is responsible for my foray into the delightful world of Urdu Adab. I'm still a novice when it comes to the Urdu language, but whatever I know and whatever Urdu poetry I've tried my hand at, it's all thanks to Ghalib. It goes back almost two decades when I saw Gulzar's television serial on Mirza Ghalib (in that respect I consider Ghalib and Gulzar as my poetry gurus). At that time I did not understand, leave alone appreciate, Ghalib's poetry. But the serial had such an impact on me that I decided to learn the Urdu language. I did not have a formal education in Urdu though. It started off with a "Learn Urdu in 30 Days" manual, soon graduating to reading poetry and prose in Urdu, of course with the aid of a humongous dictionary.

Even now, when my Urdu vocabulary is better, I cannot claim that I have the wherewithal to understand the meaning behind Ghalib's verses. Most of the time, I 'get' the words, but to 'get' the…

The Music of Umrao Jaan - Sublime

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Sat, 28 Oct 2006 12:15:00 +0530

When J.P Dutta announced Anu Malik's name as the composer of his version of Umrao Jaan (based on Mirza Muhammad Hadi Ruswa's celebrated urdu novel Umrao Jaan Ada), I was a bit apprehensive. But this time the apprehension was not about Anu's calibre – his association with J.P Dutta has never been short of magical, after all. I was more concerned about his ability to compose something that could live up to the standards set by Khayyam in the 1981 version of Umrao Jaan. If Anu could achieve even a fraction of what Khayyam and Asha Bhosle achieved 25 years ago, that would be enough to wipe off all the sins he might have committed by imposing his noisy 'inspirations' on us.

When I first listened to Anu's score for J.P Dutta's Umrao Jaan, my most obvious reaction was to directly compare it with Khayyam's. Then I thought to myself, is that fair? Can I listen to - and enjoy - this score without any comparison? It was difficult to start with, but then I asked myself one question. What if this score belonged not to 'Umrao Jaan' but some other film based on the life a courtesan? Could it then qualify as a good score? The answer is a resounding YES!

Anu Malik's compositions for Umrao Jaan are melodious, deceptively simple yet multi-textured, and truly Indian. In keeping with the setting of the film (19th century Lucknow), the instruments used are all Indian and the compositions are based on Hindustani…

Gulzar's Moon

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Thu, 03 Aug 2006 14:15:00 +0530

चाँद गुलज़ार का

चाँद और कवियों का बड़ा ही पुराना रिश्ता है। शायद ही कोई ऐसा कवि या शायर होगा जो चाँद से प्रेरित न हुआ हो। पूर्णिमा का सम्पूर्ण गोलाकार चन्द्र होता ही इतना मोहक है कि भला कौन उससे प्रेरित हुए बिना रह सकता है? यदि हम समय के उस दूसरे छोर पर जायें जहाँ संसार की पहली कविता का सृजन हुआ हो, और फिर वहाँ से कविता के इतिहास का पल्ला पकड़ कर आज तक का सफ़र तय करें, तो निश्चय ही हम पायेंगे कि पीढ़ी दर पीढ़ी कवियों ने चाँद को सुन्दरता का प्रतीक माना है। फलस्वरूप कविता में ‘चाँद’ के उपयोग का दायरा कुछ महदूद सा रह गया है। महबूबा के हुस्न की तुलना से आगे जैसे चाँद का कुछ वजूद ही नहीं।

एक कवि जिन्होंने अपनी कविताओं में चाँद को एक बहुआयामी व्यक्तित्व और अनगिनत संभावनाओं के साथ प्रस्तुत किया है, वो हैं गुलज़ार। गुलज़ार का चाँद एक बहरूपिया है। कभी वो रोटी बन जाता है, तो कभी भीख का कटोरा; कभी भीख में दी गयी कौडी, तो कभी एक फल जो पक कर पेड से टपक जाए। कभी वो कुहनियों के बल चल कर शरारत पे आमादा हो जाता है, तो कभी पुखराजी पीला रंग ले कर सुस्त पड़ जाता है। एक तरफ़ वो अब्र की मैली सी गठरी में छिपा चमकता खन्जर है, तो दूसरी ओर एक चमकती हुई अठन्नी। कभी एक चिकनी डली जो घुली जाती है, तो कभी दामन-ए-शब पर लगा हुआ एक पैबन्द।

मिसाल के लिये:

1
माँ ने इक…

Knowledge and Poetry

noreply@blogspirit.com (Khwaahish-e-Parwaaz) — Wed, 26 Jul 2006 17:35:00 +0530

Appreciation of poetry is a complex process, especially in the context of Urdu poetry. Besides a good understanding of the language, it is important for a reader to understand the cultural backdrop and conventions of Urdu poetry. Many metaphors used in Urdu poetry will make no sense to a person who has no knowledge of the culture, myths, fables, conventions and the context that cause these metaphors to resonate with inherent, at times obvious meaning. That's what makes translating Urdu ghazals in English (and consequently their appreciation by non-native speakers) such an arduous task.

Let's take a very simple example - if you've had any exposure to Urdu poetry, or for that matter even Hindi film songs, you would have heard the word 'jigar' (जिगर) very often, too often in fact. (this word has been abused so badly by many of our Hindi film lyricist, that I consciously refrain from using it in any of my poetry... I have probably used it only in one or two of my couplets)

'Jigar' is normally used in the context of love. Now, what is 'jigar'? It means, liver i.e. lakht-e-jigar (लख़्त-ए-जिगर) or jigar ka tukda (जिगर का टुकड़ा), literally meaning piece of liver and hence someone extremely dear. Liver and love - what's the connection? A person exposed to English poetry, or even Hindi poetry, would always associate the heart with love. Even in Urdu poetry, the heart is associated with love, but so is liver. Why? This is brilliantly explained by Frances…