Tag Archives: Khwaja Mir Dard

The City of Mushairas

The life and times of Delhi’s leading poets of the Mughal era and their enrichment of a syncretic language

Beloved Delhi: A Mughal City and Her Greatest Poets

Beloved Delhi: A Mughal City and Her Greatest Poets
Saif Mahmood
Speaking Tiger
367 pages
Rs 599

Shaikh Mohammad Ibrahim Zauq, the poetry ustaad of the last Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah ‘Zafar’ saw, in his lifetime, the Mughal Empire brought to its knees (though not formally ended — Zauq, perhaps mercifully, died three years before the ‘Ghadar’ of 1857, the uprising that was to so impact the fabric of Delhi’s social, cultural and literary life). But an impoverished Mughal court and an equally penurious north Indian aristocracy meant that many of Zauq’s contemporaries drifted south to Hyderabad, where there was still patronage to be sought and stipends to be earned. Zauq, however, when asked why he did not migrate to the Deccan, had famously remarked, “In dinon garche Dakan mein hai bohot qadr-e-sukhan/ Kaun jaaye Zauq par Dilli ki galiyaan chhor kar?” As Saif Mahmood translates this in his book Beloved Delhi: “Although poetry is greatly valued in the Deccan these days, Zauq, who would trade that for the lanes of Delhi?”

It is this — the connection between Delhi and her Urdu poets, an almost umbilical cord that binds the city to her greatest bards — that forms an important theme in Mahmood’s book. Beloved Delhi has, as its subtitle, A Mughal City and Her Greatest Poets, and those words describe the book perfectly: it is about the Mughal city of Delhi — not the city before or after the Mughals (though there is a fleeting mention of those as well), and about its greatest poets of the 18th and 19th centuries.

Mahmood examines the life and work of eight of Delhi’s greatest Urdu poets, against the backdrop of the city. Mirza Mohammad Rafi Sauda, Khwaja Mir Dard, Mir Taqi Mir, Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib, Momin Khan Momin, Bahadur Shah Zafar, Shaikh Mohammad Ibrahim Zauq and Nawab Mirza Khan Daagh Dehlvi are the eight poets who form the subject of Mahmood’s book. For each poet, Mahmood begins with a biography (often preceded by a description of the current state of the poet’s grave or former home). The biography is followed by an insight into the most relevant aspects of the poet’s work — Sauda’s satire, Zauq’s use of everyday language, Momin’s sensuality, Ghalib’s often cryptic verses, and so on. Finally, there are selected verses (with translations) by each poet.

There are several reasons to recommend Beloved Delhi. Firstly, it’s a well-written, readable book that manages to strike a balance between being informative on the one hand and unintimidating, entertaining, even witty on the other. Mahmood handles with commendable skill a subject that is often perceived as unapproachable by those not familiar with the Urdu script, or who are daunted by the more Persianised form of the language. But it’s also a subject that is regaining popularity and Mahmood’s translations, his occasional helpful notes, and the very fact that he takes care to bring in popular connections — Hindi film music’s use of couplets and ghazals from classical poets, for example, or ghazals rendered by popular singers — helps make this poetry more relatable.

Also playing a major role in making the poetry easier to relate to is Mahmood’s approach to the lives of the men who wrote that poetry. He uses various sources — autobiographies, reminiscences of contemporaries, memoirs, correspondence, even the poetry they penned— to bring alive the men behind the verses. Sauda, so acerbic that his satire repeatedly got him into trouble. Mir, the mad egoist, who willingly wrote poetry in exchange for groceries. Momin, a brilliant hakim as well as a great poet. Ghalib, so addicted to gambling that it brought him into repeated conflict with the law (which, Mahmood, himself a lawyer, points out as being reflected in the many legal and judicial terms — muddai, talab, hukm, faujdaari, giraftaari, etc — that Ghalib uses in his poetry). Mahmood even busts some myths, such as the authorship of popular works attributed to poets like Zafar and Ghalib.

And there is Delhi. The Delhi of mushairas. A city where fakirs and courtesans could be heard singing Ghalib’s ghazals, where a language born out of a syncretic confluence of cultures and traditions was nurtured even through the turbulence and horror of 1857 and its aftermath. As much as he brings alive the eight poets he focusses on, Mahmood brings alive the Delhi that was so beloved to them.

Madhulika Liddle is a Delhi-based writer

source: http://www.indianexpress.com / The Indian Express / Home> Lifestyle> Books / by Madhulika Liddle / May 18th, 2019

Mazars of Delhi poets… a grave story

MazarsMPos21mar2014

WHILE THE last resting place of Sheikh Ibrahim Zauq in Paharganj has been restored some respectability, thanks to the Supreme Court’s intervention, the graves of Khwaja Mir Dard and Hakim Momin Khan Momin behind the Maulana Azad Medical College are still a picture of neglect. It’s high time something was done to save them.

Mir Dard Road leads to the grave of the great Urdu poet, but the land surrounding it has been sold by the unscrupulous, and palatial buildings have come up around it, leaving only a small plot for the mazar. The grave of Momin is within a boundary wall, along with the graves of Shah Walliullah, the saint whom the poet held in high reverence, and members of the Shah’s family.

Over 40 years ago the hilly land near the grave was bulldozed and plans made to do away with the mazars. A great lover of Momin, Sher Ali Mewati heard of this and came from Mewat (Haryana) to save them. It is said that he lay on the road in front of Teen Murti House and did not get up even when Pandit Nehru was being driven out in his car.

Nehru got down from the vehicle and enquired what the matter was. When Sher Ali told him that the graves of Shah Walliullah and Momin were about to be bulldozed, the Prime Minister got very upset and drove to the spot. The demolition was immediately halted, and later Sher Ali Mewati was able to get the mazars repaired and enclosed in a boundary wall.

RVSmithMPos21mar2014

The area where this kabristan is situated is known as Mehdian. Sher Ali Mewati, they say, actually lay before a bulldozer to stop the demolition and his leg was fractured in the process. Whatever may be the truth, the area needs another man like him to preserve it from encroachment.

Khwaja Mir Dard was born in 1719 in Delhi and died on January 7, 1785. “Mysticism ran in the family, for he was descended on his father’s side from Khwaja Baha-ud-Din Naqshbandi, and on the mother’s side from Hazrat Ghaus-e-Azam,” says Professor Muhammad Sadiq.”Dard studied theology with his father, and learnt the art of poetry from Khan-e-Arzu. For some time he was in the army, but he gave it up to lead a life of retirement and study and, at 39, on his father’s death, succeeded him as the head of a sanctuary.”

The vanity and unreality of life and its joys and sorrows, unity of existence, the greatness of man in the hierarchy of life, the mirage of the intellect, praise of intuition, the extinction of self and suspicion of worldly life, pietism, contentment, resignation – nearly one third of his poetry is devoted to these ideas.

Professor Sadiq says that Momin Sadiq’s ancestors had migrated from Kashmir to Delhi. “His father, Hakim Ghulam Nabi, was a physician of note and connected with the imperial court. Momin was born in 1800 and was given that name at the instance of his father’s spiritual guide, Shah `Abdul’ Aziz. His education had been thorough and systematic, as is proved by the embarrassing profusion of technical terms pertaining to medicine, astronomy, mathematics, music, etc., in his qasidas. A man of pleasure in his youth, he forswore his Bohemian ways when he became a disciple of Sayyid Ahmed of Rae Bareily, but he was far too human to sink into a dour puritan. The fruits of his conversion can be studied in his Masnavi-e-Jahadiyya and a few other pieces. He died in 1851.”

Momin is said to have predicted his death in verse, as he was also a najoomi (astronomer-cum-astrologer), saying he would end up with broken arms and legs (“dast-o-bazu”). This is actually what happened years later when he fell from a ladder and died after nine days. His famous couplet, “Tum mere pas hote ho goya/ Jab doosra aur koi nahin hota” made his contemporary Ghalib remark that Momin could take his entire dewan and give him just this pearl of a couplet in exchange.

Momin’s best work is Ab-e-Hayat (Parnassus literally, but water of paradise figuratively) Shouldn’t his grave and that of the great Mir Dard be preserved?

source: http://www.hindu.com / The Hindu – Online Edition / Home> Features> Magazine / Down Memory Lane  by  R V Smith  /  Monday – May 24th, 2004