Mr. Jamal has been writing Urdu poetry since 1987, many of his works were published in Urdu dailies and magazines like Saalar, Siyasat, Etemaad and Dabistan,
Poet and writer Syed Iftekhar Jamal of Kadapa, who has been named by the Urdu Academy for the ‘Yousuf Safi Lifetime Achievement Award’.
The Urdu Academy, Government of Andhra Pradesh, has named Syed Iftekhar Jamal of Kadapa district for the prestigious ‘Yousuf Safi Lifetime Achievement Award’ in recognition of his contribution as a prominent Urdu poet, writer, stage producer, director, actor, social and political activist.
Mr. Jamal has been writing Urdu poetry since 1987, many of his works were published in Urdu dailies and magazines like Saalar, Siyasat, Etemaad and Dabistan. He had conducted several ‘Mushairas’ (poets conclave), including the State-level ‘Riyasati Urdu Mushaira’, the first after bifurcation of the Andhra Pradesh.
He wrote his first drama in 1995, which was made into the first Urdu telefilm the very next year. Some of his notable works include ‘Mohabbat Aur Jung’ (1997), ‘Lagan’ (2002), ‘Koun Banega Ghar Jamaai’ (2003). Similarly, his directorial ventures include ‘Khwab Pather Mein’, which received acclaim in Hyderabad, Kurnool and Kadapa, besides ‘Padam Shiri’, ‘Dafeena’, ‘Dood-e-Chiraagh’ and so on.
Mr. Jamal is currently the State secretary of Minority Hakkula Parirakshana Samiti, Andhra Pradesh.
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> News> India> Andhra Pradesh / by The Hindu Bureau / November 10th, 2024
A new biography examines the life and work of one of the most acclaimed modern Urdu poets.
The Call of Unknown Destinations
Phir kahin khwaab-o haqiqat ka tasadum hoga Phir koi manzil-e benaam bulati hai hamein
Once again, a conflict between dreams and reality will rage somewhere Once again, some nameless destination calls out to me
Naya Din Naya Azaab
Sard shakhon pe os ke qatre Hain abhi mehv khwaab aur sooraj Rath pe apne sawaar aata hai
A New Day A New Calamity
Drops of dew on cold branches Are still immersed in their dreams when the sun Comes riding on his chariot
A new kind of poetry began to be written under the influence of the progressives. It loosened the hold of tradition and opened the way to new subjects and styles. From the 1940s new experiments were being conducted in Hindi prose and poetry and the Urdu writer was neither unaware nor unaffected by them; it was much the same in Hindi. Despite the jingoistic nationalism that projected the cause of Hindi and the zeal with which language chauvinists promoted one language along with its literature and respective literary culture, at the expense of the other, there were still some spaces where Urdu and Hindi writers met and interacted.
Aligarh, with its robust Urdu and Hindi departments, had healthy interactions between their respective faculty and several common platforms where writers and teachers of both languages met and exchanged ideas. In fact, the microcosm of Aligarh reflected the situation at the pan-Indian level, that is, of concurrent movements in Hindi and Urdu which prove that the ideas that propelled these movements were collective and widespread rather than unique and localised to individual languages and their respective literary cultures. And, if not mirror images, the Urdu and Hindi literary landscape displayed sufficient similarities to point to a commonality of concerns and inspirations in the years leading up to the 1960s when Shahryar begins to find his poetic voice.
The publication of a slim volume of Hindi poetry, TaarSaptak (1943), opened the door to a new wave of experimentation (prayogvaad) which, in turn, laid the foundation of the nayi kavita (new poetry).
Taar Saptak contained the poetry of seven young poets: Agyeya, Muktibodh, Shamsher, Raghuvir Sahay, Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena, Kedarnath Singh and Kunwar Narain. All seven were firm in their belief that (i) they belonged to no “school” of poetry, (ii) they were merely fellow travellers along the same road, who had differing opinions and worldviews, and (iii) they had not reached a destination or arrived at any grand conclusion; the journey was their destination.
In fact, Agyeya, the compiler of the anthology, went so far as to say that his fellow contributors consider “poetry a subject of experimentation” and that they were “explorers of new ways”. This “new” poetry turned out to be new in both form and content. The Saptak poets – and others who came under their mesmeric, insistent spell – were caught up with the need to convey a deeply-felt, intensely personal, emotional experience.
This resulted in the evolution of startlingly new metaphors and images, radical experiments in form and content, new rhythms and sound patterns that were meant to reflect harsh new truths and the deliberate use of laconic, abstruse even occasionally dense images and ideas. The entire process – spanning close to two decades – bore spectacular fruit by the 1960s.
Elucidating the commonality between the concerns of the Hindi and Urdu poets of the 1960s, especially those who came in the immediate aftermath of the progressive upsurge, Manglesh Dabral, Hindi writer and poet, notes:
“In fact, poetry, both in Urdu and Hindi, of and after the 1960s carries the melancholy, irony and sadness of its time with a ‘pessimism of the mind and an optimism of the heart’, as famously put by the Italian Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci.”
The waning of the progressive movement coincided with several other factors that plagued the body politic all through the 1950s and 1960s: disillusionment with the fruits of independence, simmering communal tensions, rampant corruption and unemployment, increasing scepticism about the very idea of freedom, in fact, a fast-eroding faith in any form of organised belief system be it religious, political or intellectual. The nayikavita in Hindi and the jadeed shairi in Urdu were the result of this manthan or churning in the post-1947 India.
While acknowledging Shahryar’s closeness to the Hindi department in Aligarh, especially its most charismatic teacher Kunwar Pal Singh, Prem Kumar, who taught at a college in the City, Ravindra Bhramar, who was a distinguished poet and teacher in the Department of Hindi, and Neeraj, the pre-eminent Hindi poet of Aligarh who, no matter where he worked, always returned home to his perch in the city, the eminent Urdu critic Gopi Chand Narang however feels Shahryar possibly benefitted more from early models of modernist poetry available in Urdu itself, such as Majeed Amjad, Nasir Kazmi, Muneer Niyazi and the young Turks of the “new wave”. Then there were the French models, the symbolists who had influenced NM Rashid and whose influence was plentifully available in Urdu through some spectacular and image-laden poetry, as well as Ezra Pound and TS Eliot.
Narang mentions the small leftist group lead by Maqsood Rizvi and the influence of Munibur Rehman, poet and teacher, on an entire generation of young men at Aligarh. Shahryar was at the fringes of almost all “left” activity in Aligarh – from his student days, as well as when he was a member of the staff and then again post-retirement till his death. The campus leftists regarded him as a fellow traveller – as one sympathetic to their cause if not exactly one of them, technically speaking, that is. Narang puts it well when he says, succinctly enough, “Shahryar’s urge was inner and his own”.
Poetry, Shahryar believed, must necessarily have an element of music. Without music there can be no poetry and like music, poetry too must follow some rules and principles. Above all, like music, poetry must have rigour.
While it is easy to say that poetry, and music, come naturally to those who are gifted, Shahryar maintained that even the gifted must follow certain rules and regulations if they are to be true to their gift. Mere practice is not sufficient to become proficient as a poet. For a seed to sprout, the soil it is planted in must also be fertile. Also, any seed will not sprout in any soil – no matter how much you may plough it or water it or add nutrients. It might appear as though anybody with any imagination can produce a creative work, but that is not so. Everyone cannot marshal the ideas produced by their imagination, organise them into a coherent and meaningful manner and present them in a way that is pleasing or new. Nor can everyone gather together scattered ideas and thoughts in a way that is startling. The primary function of any art form is to surprise; it is the most magical effect that art can produce.
Shahryar held tradition in great regard. Possibly because he had come through the rigour of a formal and exhaustive education – including a PhD under the exacting early supervision of a teacher such as Ale Ahmad Suroor as well as the guidance of a scholar such as Azmi – that too at a university such as Aligarh’s whose Urdu department boasted some of the finest academicians and greatest connoisseurs of urdu zubaan and tehzeeb. Unlike many of his contemporaries in the new wave of poetry that came in the wake of the progressive upsurge, Shahryar was never one to cock a snook at the centuries-old legacy that the modern Urdu poet had ready access to. He believed that tradition could teach the nuts and bolts of poetry and especially the ghazal, for the tools of Urdu poetry have remained largely unchanged while the outer appearance has changed as has its vocabulary. The manner of crafting a ghazal – a bit like “pouring” ideas into a mould or wine in a bottle – has remained largely the same since the genre of the ghazal was first perfected by masters such as Mir and Sauda.
Like cooking, which Shahryar enjoyed enormously, poetry too was a matter of getting the ingredients right. The metaphors, symbols, abstractions need to be in the right proportion; excess or want can make all the difference between magical and mundane. And just as in cooking, there is that indefinable element called haath ka maza (its literal translation “the taste of the cook’s hand” does not come close to doing justice to its meaning), so also with poetry. The form of the ghazal does not allow much deviation and the vocabulary too is constrained by metre and rhyme; yet, within these time-honoured constraints, the master ghazal-go can produce magic when the reader exclaims with wonder at something that touches his/her heart. Ghalib expressed it best when he said:
Dekhna taqreer ki lazzat ki jo uss ne kaha Maine yeh jaana ke goya yeh bhi mere dil main hai
Look at the deliciousness of speech that when [s]he spoke I felt as though this too lies within my heart
Good poetry can indeed make the reader feel “I could have said this” or “This is exactly how I feel”. And when that threshold is reached, Shahryar believed, the real aesthetic experience happens which is essentially a mystical communication between the writer and the reader or the reciter and the listener.
Shahryar was averse to extreme topicality in poetry. For literature to pass the test of time, he believed, it must contain something within it that would live beyond the here and now. In this he differed from the progressives, especially the more ideologically-driven progressives, who wrote on intensely topical subjects and whose works acquired the tag of waqti adab (topical literature).
As Shahryar said in an interview, it is not important how many poems are written on Korea; instead, what is important is how many good poems we remember being written on Korea. The undue importance being given to mauzu (topic) and maqsadiyat (purposiveness), he believed, was one of the reasons for the decline of the progressive movement:
“Purposive literature must necessarily contain the known and familiar; it has no scope for new experiments. It must have common thoughts, common feelings, and so on. Naturally, therefore, it can only accommodate general things about people, not individuals.”
Making his own position vis-à-vis art and life amply clear, Shahryar was at pains to establish the importance of life in the centuries-old Art vs Life debate – Adabbarai Adab (Art for Art’s Sake) and Adab barai Zindagi (Art for Life’s Sake):
“I believe in having respect and regard for all forms of Art on the express condition that Life – in all its myriad glory – must be present in Art. If such a situation arises whereby I am forced to choose between Life and Art, I will choose Life. Poetry is nothing more than this for me…With the coming of the English we Hindustanis discovered that literature holds a mirror to society and a valuable tool for social change. And ever since then we have all, in our own way, been doing this work. Every now and then some of us have declined to – and declined most vociferously – to perform this role.”
Among his seniors, Shahryar has acknowledged the influence of Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Miraji, Muneer Niyazi, Akhtarul Iman; but among his contemporaries his own poetry was likely to have commonalities with Zafar Iqbal, Nasir Kazmi, Ahmad Mushtaq, Muhammad Alvi, Salim Ahmad because they had possibly read and been influenced by the same sort of people he had. In India, he regarded the ghazals of Hasan Naim, Khalilur Rehman Azmi and Shaz Tamkanat as being among the finest – both in terms of technique and content.
However, Gopi Chand Narang offers us another way of seeing Shahryar and viewing him alongside his contemporaries. For one, he doesn’t believe one should necessarily go by how a poet assesses himself with regard to his peers. In his opinion, a poet’s views about himself can be discussed but should not be taken at face value. Narang goes on to say how “all poets, including Ghalib or Mir, try to play safe … they may exaggerate or deconstruct. There is always a crisscross of influences…”
Narang is also willing to speculate that since Azmi was the earliest mentor, his must have been the earliest influence on Shahryar’s poetry and it is possible that Shahryar chose to list Shaz Tamkanat and Hasan Naim rather than Azmi as the two were indeed current in those days and he might even have liked their works. But Narang himself is of the opinion that there is no trace of either Tamkanat or Naim in Shahryar; the two score in terms of craft but little else, whereas Shahryar “speaks in his own voice, an authentic voice. There is no trace of even Mir or Ghalib what to speak of Tamkanat.” Though Narang goes on to concede, “there may be a bit of Nasir Kazmi or Muneer Niyazi…They were the poets of their age. Muneer in his own natural way of wonder and awe viz a viz the onslaught of urban culture and Nasir Kazmi, via Firaq Gorakhpuri, rediscovered the painful and lonesome voice of Mir.”
But Shahryar’s creativity, Narang insists, was his own. Even if he wanted, Shahryar could not go the way of Nasir Kazmi or Muneer Niyazi. Shahryar interacted with them just as he did with his other contemporaries and fellow poets at mushairas and nashists but “once he had found his voice he was content and hardly looked around.” (emphasis mine.)
So, was Shahryar a progressive? Or was he modernist? This question has vexed many, for while he started writing poetry and gaining recognition as a poet when the modernist movement was gaining momentum, Shahryar himself was at pains to establish his socialist-Marxist credentials.
We have already established that when it came to the crunch, in a debate on Art for Art’s Sake vs Art for Life’s Sake, Shahryar could not have aligned himself with the former. Asked if poetry can afford to be wilfully self-referential, his answer was equally unequivocal: “There can be no poetry without the self.” But he was also quick to clarify:
“At the same time, no one can be expected to be interested in the purely personal details of other people’s lives, in the joys and sorrows of others. Some poets have tried to do that, for instance Akhtar Shirani wrote poetry that was intensely romantic yet extremely personal. But that has never appealed to me. I have a Marxist world view. I believe in the social and political commitment of literature. You may not always find direct references to my worldview in my poetry. But you will find them in the oblique and the symbolic.”
Asked if poetry must necessarily have a social commitment, a framework within which it must be located and a frame of reference that is accessible to all its readers, Shahryar’s answer became more general. All good poets, be it Iqbal or Faiz, he said, speak of the world, to the world. And then he tossed a “googly” at me when I was least expecting it by declaring: “In some respects, Faiz is a greater poet than Iqbal precisely because he is more human, more interested in all humanity and not one community or group.” This one seemingly offhand statement, possibly made on the spur of the moment, seems to contain the kernel of Shahryar’s own poetic vision and holds the key to understanding his perception of a poet’s role in society.
Excerpted with permission from Shahryar: A Life in Poetry, by Rakhshanda Jalil, HarperCollins India.
source: http://www.scroll.in / Scroll.in / Home> Book Excerpt / by Rakshanda Jalil / August 24th, 2018
Khaleel ur Rehman, a noted Urdu poet and former Inspector General of Police, Karnataka breathed his last on Friday after a cardiac arrest.
Born here in 1948 and better known by his pen name Mamoon, he won the 2011 Sahitya Academi Award for his poetry collection Aafaaq ki Taraf. In 2004, Mamoon became the first Urdu writer to win the Karnataka Rajyotsava Prashasti.
After working as a staff artist for All India Radio, Delhi and later working as an Assistant editor of Daily Salar, Mamoon joined the Indian Police Service in 1977 and eventually promoted to IPS and retired as IGP in 2008.
Mamoon has published a number of works. Lissan Falsafe Ke Aine Me on the philosophy of language. Unnees Lillahi Nazmen is a translation of poems written in praise of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ by Scherzade Rikhye. Nishaat-e-Gham is a collections of Ghazals. Kannada Adab is a collection of translations of Kannada language poetry and fiction. His poems are published in ‘La Ilah’ and ‘Andherey Ujaley Mein’ – two voluminous poetry collections.
His poetry stands out for its animated use of everyday images, sometimes shocking metaphors and use of wit that lay bare everyday experiences. His poetic sensibilities are steeped into the sufi-mystical traditions of Indo-Persianate culture. He experimented in the genres of both classical ghazal and azad nazam in a collection Saanson ke paar. He was most prolific in the genre of nazm which he thought suited to articulate the changing experiences of contemporary times – Jism-o-Jaan se door, Banbas ka Jhoot, Saraswati ke Kinare.
He served as the President of Karnataka Urdu Academy during 2008-10. During his tenure, he also edited the literary organ of the Karnataka Urdu Academy Azkaar.
source: http://www.radiancenews.com / Radiance News / Home> Focus / by Mohammed Atherulla Shariff / June 22nd, 2024
‘I invite any Indian who claims to be a nationalist to the core to have a conversation with me,’ Rana wrote for The Wire in 2017.
Munawwar Rana (1952-2024). Photo: Youtube
New Delhi:
Urdu poet Munawwar Rana died on Sunday, January 14. He was 71.
Rana, who had been suffering from throat cancer, breathed his last at the Sanjay Gandhi Post Graduate Institute of Medical Sciences in Lucknow.
The poet is survived by his wife, four daughters and a son, PTI has reported.
Rana was an outspoken artist and was vocal against communal politics.
In 2021, Lucknow police registered an FIR against him for allegedly inciting religious feelings for his comments on Valmiki, who wrote Ramayan.
“Valmiki became a god after he wrote the Ramayana, before that he was a dacoit. A person’s character can change. Similarly, the Taliban for now are terrorists but people and characters change…When you talk about Valmiki, you will have to talk about his past. In your religion, you make anyone god. But he was a writer who wrote the Ramayana, but we are not in competition here,” Rana had said.
In 2017, the poet, who wrote the famous Maa, wrote for The Wire:
“I invite any Indian who claims to be a nationalist to the core to have a conversation with me. Let him decide the time and place. If Allah wills it, they will emerge as traitors; and we will emerge as nationalist Indians. You say ‘Bharat Mata ki jai’. My friend, we kneel on earth and kiss this soil 94 times in veneration while offering our prayers.”
On social media, many have condoled his passing.
source: http://www.thewire.in / The Wire / Home> Books / by The Wire Staff / January 15th, 2024
In the intricate maze of poets, meeting a ‘lady Shayari’ is unique, for while there are many, most of them hide behind scenic curtains; they are brimming with talent but too shy to step out. Meeting Rafat Akhtar ‘Rafat’ was, therefore, an enchanting experience.
Born and raised in Kolkata, the City of Joy, as Rafat calls it, she says that even as a child she was quite sensitive. She captured philosophical moments in life and drew in the rich vibes of nature to weave out her Shayaris in a time to come, much later.
She told Awaz-the Voice, “At a young age, I loved reading Urdu story books and words formed rich suggestions for me. Many vivid powerful words flew through my head during the day, but I never sat down to put them on paper until much later, and then I started to capture my thoughts in a cherished diary. My pen is my best friend; I share my feelings and observations with my pen and whenever I write, I feel relaxed.”
After her marriage and the birth of her daughters, life was busy with the swirl of housework and tending to her children. Time was precious and she had no moments of her own to spare for her writing. As the years rolled by and her daughters grew up, one working and the other in school, Rafat started to feel a deep void in her life.
This time, she knew she needed to do something to fill that emptiness and came to a realization that she was neglecting writing her Shayari which was her inborn gift. At that defining moment, she decided to start writing again.
With a few trembling steps, not very confident about how it would go, she penned down her first Poem ShayariAlfaaz rooh hoti hai Jismo me chupi har jazbo’n ki rooh, har aawaz ki rooh shared it with her family. All those who received it were delighted. In that magnificent moment, her husband loved it; her mother was ecstatic and her two daughters cheered her. Her extended family also was enraptured by her first Shayari.
A poem by Riafar Akhtar Rafat
From then on, Rafat weaved her pathway higher on poetry. Her first published poem was in a Writing App in 2018.
One big event in her literary life was when the admin of the famous Taajira – The Businesswoman Group Rukshi Kadiri Elias allowed her to conduct the whole Mushaira (justuju e sukhan) in 2022. Rafat was particularly rejuvenated with this event after the long depressive draining aftermaths of COVID-19 which had the world shuttered in behind locked doors. That sense of purpose and joy was coming back to her life with a sparkle in her eyes and a spring in her steps.
With her heart stirred and supportive people clapping her on, it made the way easier before her, she was drawn deeper into the world of Shayari.
Here are a few snapshots of her most brilliant poems:
Her most famous Poem is Ae nabz e wujood, tujhe shikwa na jaane magar kis baat ka hai.
She says that a poet’s soul is so sensitive that they will see every side of a situation and they also react more strongly to injustice. She wrote a soul-stirring Shayari,
“Aurat Hona Bhi Kamal Hai” after reading about an atrocity inflicted on a woman:
Lagta hai ek laq daq sa sahra hai
Aur mein nange paao’n chal rahi hoon
Har taraf tapish hai
Pyaas ki shiddat hai
Na koi jazbaat sunne wala
Na koi lahje ki narmi hai
Magar phir bhi mujhe chalte jaana hai...
Rafat Akhtar Rafat
She names some of her favourite poets. Mirza Ghalib famed for his sublime Shayari nd one line from the greatest poet, in particular, stands out, “You will reach your destination even by roaming around but the lost are those who are not getting out of home”. Her other favourites are Allama Iqbal whose Urdu poetry is considered to be among the greatest of the 20th century, Faiz Ahmad Faiz – considered the iconic voice of an era, with his revolutionary zeal tugging hearts – Bollywood’s famed Urdu poet and screenwriter Gulzar with his stunning imaginative and emotional appeal that dynamically hits the crowds, and Ahmad Faraz’s rich poetry. She also is inspired by Urdu writers such as Umaira Ahmad, Nimra Ahmad, and Khaled Hosseini to name just a few.
With warm emotion ringing in her voice, Rafat tells me that her late father was an angel and it was because of him that she was able to complete her graduation and shares how blessed she is to have a very nurturing family from all sides.
Rafat does bring up the point that it was initially a struggle to bring out her Shayari publically because these are viewed negatively by some people in the Islamic community. However, society is slowly evolving and understanding it is not evil nor is it against Islam. It was a bright moment for her when on December 17, 2023; she attended a huge Shayari event in Kolkata of over 500 people half of whom were women. She has also attended massive international Shayari programs with participants from Egypt, London, Mumbai, and other parts of the world and India. These mega-events charged with the electric power of poetry give glimpses of a new rising renaissance.
Rafat is now excited about her new upcoming book, Hurf e Yaqeen. All her Shayaris are inspired by the school of life and nature, graced with a strong imagination to guide readers to the road of reality which makes her poetry more comprehensible and relational to her audience.
She believes in a purpose-driven life and as she tells me, “I still have very far to go; I still have to achieve greater heights.” Rafat will certainly go far in her poetry flight to motivate a new generation as she says, “My vision is to encourage and inspire my readers.” Rafat is still a busy mother and she says, “Taking care of my family and my kids are my priority” and amid her heavy schedules and responsibilities, she keeps on writing.
Rita Farhat Mukand is a Siliguri-based independent writer.
source: http://www.awazthevoice.in / Awaz, The Voice / Home> Story / by Rita Farhat Mukund / December 20th, 2023
Amidst the busy roads of Gujarat that have thousands of cars passing by every day, there lies a neglected divider that holds reverence for many. A petal-strewn corner on a broken divider signifies the tomb of an Amdavadi poet credited for the advent of Urdu poetry that gave rise to a league of poets like Zauq, Mir, and Mirza Ghalib.
The poet in question is none other than the father of Urdu poetry, Wali Muhammad Wali, whose contribution towards uplifting Urdu poetry to being at par with its Persian counterpart is considered indispensable.
Challenging the notion that elite poetry can only be Persian, Wali opened up a world of poetic possibilities for Urdu poets and his influence can be seen in a piece penned by the Poet Meer Taqi Meer as a tribute to the Urdu Chaucer.
Khugar nahin kuch yun hi hum Rikhta-goi kay/ Mashooq jo apna tha, bashinda-e-Dakhan tha”
(It isn’t casually that I began dabbling in Urdu/I picked it from my lover, a native of the Deccan).
The poetic legend who died 300 years ago was buried in his family graveyard in Ahmedabad after his demise. Post Independence, Wali’s grave was separated from the graveyard and found itself situated in the middle of the road.
While the death and origins of Wani might be disputed, the razing of his grave has been linked to the communal past of Gujarat. Destroyed during the Gujarat violence of 2002, Wali’s grave was part of the riot that saw thousands murdered and the demolition of many significant Muslim shrines and Dargahs. Eliminating any and all signs of the Dargah, roads were built overnight and the atrocities of communal violence were swept under the layers of tar and repairs that ensued.
A Twitter user recently went searching for the shrine and impressively remarked on the presence of the Urdu poet’s legacy that remains etched in the mind of locals. Street vendors, shoemakers, and locals seem happy to guide and give precise directions to the grave for those looking to visit the shrine. Once an ornate shrine, the grave now portrays a sad picture of desolation and jarring neglect that can be blamed on the political powerplay as well as the ‘divide and rule’ ideologies that plague the nation.
One cannot miss the imprint of Wali’s work on Urdu poetry. It remains immortal in the hearts of people and keeps the light of consciousness alive.
source: http://www.homegrown.co.in / Homegrown / Home> #HGExplore / by Riya Sharma / August 08th, 2022
Guru Dutt’s masterpiece ‘Pyaasa’ (1957), just before its soulful dirge on relationships, shows two poets reciting ‘shers’.
The elder one later also politely reprimands a guest for his snide remark at the “servant” (Dutt), who had begun humming “Jaane woh kaise log the..”, declaring: “Mian, shayri koi daulat-mando ke jagir thodi hai”. Though unnamed, his appearance, sher, and comment were enough to identify him.
Urdu Poetry and Social Reach
The unnamed actor was representing Ali Sikandar ‘Jigar Moradabadi’, who, in his heyday, was so known by his persona – an intense gaze but an air of absent-mindedness too, groomed beard but slightly unkempt long hair, traditional garb and courtly behaviour, as well as poetry, that he could be shown without being named.
‘Jigar’ is seen as the last standard-bearer of the classical ghazal, or the ghazal’s classical tradition, but was rather a ‘bridge’, between its highpoint in the mid-19th century and its transition to the 20th century and beyond.
He was also a connecting link between Urdu poetry and its widening social reach as the dialogue the character utters shows – and is followed by him encouraging Dutt to continue:
“Tum kuch keh rahe the, barkhurdar. Chup kyun ho gaye. Kaho, kaho..”
Jigar Moradabadi – Real Life
This was true in real life too – a young Jigar took instruction from Nawab Mirza Khan ‘Dagh Dehlvi’ – who had participated in mushairas with Ghalib and Zauq – and himself later, mentored poets like Asrar-ul-Hasan Khan ‘Majrooh Sultanpuri’, Jan Nisar Akhtar, and others.
And then like many contemporaries, he did not write for films, yet his work willy-nilly figured in them. While “Kaam aakhir jazba-e-beikhtiyar aa hi gaya/Dil kuch is surat se tadpa unko pyaar aa hi gaya” was used in ‘Pyaasa’, in ‘Daag’ (1952), the Hasrat Jaipuri-written “Ham dard ke maaron ka, itna hi fasana hai/Peene ko sharaab-e-gam, dil gam ka nishana hai” seemed inspired by his “Ham ishq ke maaron ka itna hi fasana hai/Rone ko nahi koi hasne ko zamana hai”.
Then, ‘Be-Raham’ (1980) used this sher – along with most of its ghazal which begins: “Ik lafz-e-mohabbat ka adna yeh fasana hai/Simte to dil-e-aashiq phaile to zamaana hai”. Another master sher in this is “Yeh ishq nahi aasan itna hi samajh lijiye/Ek aag ka darya hai aur dub ke jaana hai.”
Before that, Shyam Benegal’s ‘Junoon’ (1979), the 1857 drama starring Shashi Kapoor, used his ghazal, “Ishq ne todi sar par qayamat.”
How Jigar’s Prime Couplets became popular in films?
But, the prime example was how the prime couplet of ‘Jigar’ became most known to film buffs after actor Raj Kumar made it a dialogue, delivered in his bombastic, drawling style: “Ham ko mita sake yeh zamaane mein dam nahi/Ham se zamana khud hai zamaane se ham nahi.”
Born in April 1890 in Moradabad, ‘Jigar’ was the son of Syed Ali Nazar, who worked in the Law Department and was inclined to poetry too, being a disciple of Khwaja ‘Wazir Lakhnavi’.
After elementary education, including in English, he worked as a salesman for a local spectacles dealer. Later, he turned to poetry full-time, settling in the town of Gonda, where he found in noted poet Asghar Hussain ‘Asghar Gondvi’ a mentor of sorts. He was a familiar face in mushairas all over the country till the mid-1950s, when he began slightly distancing himself from shayri, ahead of his death in September 1960.
‘Jigar’, as mentioned, was a paladin of the classical tradition, and as such, his shayri usually dwelt on love and other facets of the human condition. As he said:
“Un ka jo farz hai vo ahl-e-siyasat jaane/Mera paigham hai mohabbat jahan tak pahunche.”
Yet, while he used the usual tropes associated with the topic, he imparted his own stamp on them with his own stylistic variations.
One of these was paradox. Take:
“Atish-e-ishq woh jahannum hai/Jis mein firdaus ke nazaare hai”, or “Kamaal-e-tishnagi hi se bujha lete hai pyaas apni/Isi tapte huye sahra ko ham darya samajhte hai”, or even “Mohabbat mein yeh kya maqam aa rahe hai/Ki manzil pe hai aur chale jaa rahe hai” and “Usi ko kehte hai jannat usi ko dozakh bhi/Woh zindagi jo haseenon ke darmiya guzre”.
“Abad agar dil na ho to barbad kijiye/Gulshan na ban sake to bayaban banaiye” is another example.
Then, ‘Jigar’ frequently resorted to some deft wordplay and situations: “Tere jamaal ki tasveer khinch doon lekin/Zabaan mein aankh nahi aankh mein zabaan nahi”, “Suna hai hashr mein aankh use be-parda dekhegi/Mujhe dar hai na tauheen-e-jamal-e-yaar ho jaaye”, and “Aghaaz-e-mohabbat ka anjaam bas itna hai/Jab dil mein tamanna thi ab dil hi tamanna hai.”
Vivid imagery was another strength: “Baithe huye raqeeb hai dilbar ke aas-paas/Kaaton ka hai hujum gul-e-tar ke aas-paas” and “Har taraf chaa gaye paigham-e-mohabbat ban kar/Mujh se achhi rahi qismat mere afsanon ki.”
And ‘Jigar’ could use rhetorical devices, like repetition to good effect, as in: “Dil hai kadmon par kisi ke sar jhuka ho ya na ho/Bandagi to apni fitrat hai Khuda ho ya na ho”, “Kabhi un mad-bhari aankho se piya tha ik jaam/Aaj tak hosh nahi, hosh nahi, hosh nai” and sometimes, alliteration: “Hai re majbooriyan mahroomiyan nakaamiyan/Ishq aakhi ishq hai tum kya karo ham kya karen.”
At other times, he could be engagingly simple: “Garche ahl-e-sharab hain ham log/Yeh na samjho kharab hain ham log”, or “Pehle sharab zeesht thi ab zeesht hai sharab/Koi pila raha hai piye ja raha hoon main.”
And a philosophical outlook can always be discerned. It may be active like: “Kya husn ne samjha hai kya ishq ne jaana hai/Ham khaak-nashinon ki thokar mein zamana hai” and “Apna zamana aap banate hai ahl-e-dil/Ham vo nahi jin ko zamana bana gaya”, or a bit resigned: “Jo un pe guzarti hai kis ne use jaana hai/Apni hi musibat hai apna hi fasaana hai”, “Maut kya ek lafz-e-bemaani/Jisko mara hayat ne maara”, and “Yeh misraa kaash naqsh-e-har-dar-o-deewar ho jaaye/Jise jina ho marne ke liye taiyar ho jaaye.”
There is much more to enjoy in the extensive corpus of ‘Jigar’, whose own epitaph could be: “Hami hab na honge to kya rang-e-mahfil/Kise dekh kar aap sharmaiyega.”
source: http://www.ummid.com / Ummid.com / Home> International / by Vikas Datta / IANS / April 16th, 2023
The four years of the World War 1 saw the service of 1.3 million Indians, of whom 74,000 never made it back home.
The First World War , or the Great War as it is also called, raged across Europe and several war arenas scattered across the world from 28 July 1914 to 11 November 1918. These four years saw the service of 1.3 million Indians, of whom 74,000 never made it back home. For their families, the war was something they couldn’t quite understand.
Given the large-scale Indian involvement in a war that the majority of Indians could not fully comprehend, we shall once again look into the mirror of Urud to see how the poet viewed the momentous years of the Jang-e Azeem as the Great War came to be called in Urdu.
Several poets, lost in the veils of time and virtually unknown today, made interventions as did the more famous ones who continue to be well known though possibly not in the context of what they had to say about World War I.
Urdu’s Rendition of the Greatest Human Tragedy
Presented below is a sampling of the socially-conscious, politically-aware message of the poets of the times. Not all of these poets are well-known today nor is their poetry of a high caliber yet fragments of their work have been included here simply to illustrate how the poet had his finger to the pulse of his age and circumstance.
Let us begin with Sibli Nomani and his wryly mocking Jang-e Europeaur Hindustani that deserves to be quoted in full:
Ek German ne mujh se kaha az rah-e ghuroor
‘Asaan nahi hai fatah to dushwar bhi nahin
Bartania ki fauj hai dus lakh se bhi kum
Aur iss pe lutf yeh hai ke tayyar bhi nahin
Baquii raha France to woh rind-e lam yazal
Aain shanaas-e shewa-e paikaar bhi nahin’
Maine kaha ghalat hai tera dawa-e ghuroor
Diwana to nahi hai tu hoshiyar bhi nahin
Hum log ahl-e Hind hain German se dus guneh
Tujhko tameez-e andak-o bisiar bhi nahin
Sunta raha woh ghaur se mera kalaam aur
Phir woh kaha jo laiq-e izhaar bhi nahin
‘Iss saadgi pe kaun na mar jaaye ai Khuda
Larhte hain aur haath mein talwar bhi nahin!’
(Consumed with pride, a German said to me:
‘Victory is not easy but it isn’t impossible either
The army of Britannia is less than ten lakh
And not even prepared on top of that
As for France, they are a bunch of drunks
And not even familiar with the art of warfare’
I said your arrogant claim is all wrong
If not mad you are certainly not wise
We the people of Hind are ten times the Germans
Cleary you cannot tell big from small
He listened carefully to what I had to say
Then he said something that can’t can’t be described
‘By God, anyone will lay down their life for such simplicity
You are willing to fight but without even a sword in your hand!’)
That the Urdu poet was not content with mere high-flying rhetoric and was rooted in and aware of immediate contemporary realities, becomes evident when Brij Narain Chakbast declares in his Watan ka Raag (‘The Song of the Homeland’):
Zamin Hind ki rutba mein arsh-e-aala hai
Yeh Home Rule ki ummid ka ujala hai
Mrs Besant ne is aarzu ko paala hai
Faqir qaum ke hain aur ye raag maala hai
Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle
Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle
(The land of Hind is higher in rank than the highest skies
All because of the light of hope brought forth by Home Rule
This hope has been nurtured by Mrs Besant
I am a mendicant of this land and this is my song
It’s futile to wish for the thorn instead of the flower
We shall not accept even paradise instead of Home Rule)
Poems Charged With the Spirit of Revolution
Similarly, Hasrat Mohani, in a poem called Montagu Reforms, is scathing about the so-called reforms that were given as SOPs to gullible Indians during the war years, which were mere kaagaz ke phool (paper flowers) with no khushboo (fragrance) even for namesake. The poem ends with a fervent plea that the people of Hind should not be taken in by the sorcery of the reforms.
Ai Hindi saada dil khabardar
Hargiz na chale tujh pe jadu
ya paayega khaak phir jab inse
Iss waqt bhi kuchh na le saka tu
(O simple people of Hind beware
Don’t let this spell work on you
If you couldn’t couldn’t take anything from them now
You’re not likely to get anything at all)
Josh Malihabadi who acquired his moniker of the shair-e- inquilab or the ‘revolutionary poet’ during the war period, talks with vim and vigour of the revolution that is nigh, a revolution that will shake the foundations of the British empire in his Shikast-e Zindaan ka Khwaab (‘The Dream of a Defeated Prison’:
Kya Hind ka zindaan kaanp raha hai guunj rahi hain takbiren
Uktae hain shayad kuchh qaidi aur torh rahe hain zanjiren
Divaron ke niche aa aa kar yuun jama hue hain zindani
(How the prison of Hind is trembling and the cries of God’s greatness are echoing
Perhaps some prisoners have got fed up and are breaking their chains
The prisoners have gathered beneath the walls of the prisons)
Satire, Pain and Passion Punctuate These Poems
The ever-doubting, satirical voice of Akbar Allahabadi— a long- time critic of colonial rule and a newfound admirer of Gandhi, shows us the great inescapable link between commerce and empire that Tagore too had alluded to:
Cheezein woh hain jo banein Europe mein
Baat woh hai jo Pioneer mein chhapey…
Europe mein hai jo jung ki quwwat barhi huwi
Lekin fuzoon hai uss se tijarat barhi huwi
Mumkin nahin laga sakein woh tope har jagah
Dekho magar Pears ka hai soap har jagah
(Real goods are those that are made in Europe
Real matter is that which is printed in the Pioneer…
Though Europe has great capability to do war
Greater still is her power to do business
They cannot install a canon everywhere
But the soap made by Pears is everywhere)
The great visionary poet Iqbal, who is at his most active, most powerful during these years, does not make direct references to actual events in the war arena;
nevertheless, he is asking Indians to be careful, to heed the signs in Tasveer-e Dard (‘A Picture of Pain’):
Watan ki fikr kar nadan musibat aane waali hai
Tiri barbadiyon ke mashvare hain asmanon mein
(Worry for your homeland, O innocents, trouble is brewing
The portents of disaster awaiting you are written in the skies.)
Adopting a fake admiring tone, Ahmaq Phaphoondvi seems to be praising the sharpness of the British brain in Angrezi Zehn ki ki Tezi (‘The Cleverness of the English Mind’) when he’s actually warning his readers of the perils of being divided while the British lord over them.
Kis tarah bapa hoon hangama aapas mein ho kyun kar khunaraizi
Hai khatam unhein schemon main angrezi zehn ki sab tezi
Ye qatl-o khoon ye jung-o jadal, ye zor-o sitam ye bajuz-o hasad
Baquii hii raheinge mulk mein sab, baqui hai agar raj angrezi
(Look at the turmoil and the bloodshed among our people
The cleverness of the English mind is used up in all such schemes
This murder ’n mayhem, wars ’n battles, cruelties ’n malice
The country’s garden is barren, with nothing but dust and desolation)
Towards Freedom and Fervour..
Zafar Ali Khan sounds an early, and as it turns out in the face of the British going back on their promise of self-governance, entirely premature bugle of freedom. While warning his fellow Indians to change with the changing winds that are blowing across the country as the war drags to an end, he’s also pointing our attention to the ‘Toadies’, a dreaded word for the subservient Indians who will gladly accept any crumbs by way of reforms in his poem Azaadi ka Bigul (‘The Bugle of Freedom’):
Bartania ki meiz se kuchh reze gire hain
Ai toadiyon chunne tum innhe peet ke bal jao
(Some crumbs have fallen from the table of Britannia
O Toadies, go crawling on your bellies to pick them)
In the end, there’s Agha Hashar Kashmiri who, in a sarcastic ode to Europe called Shukriya Europe, thanks it for turning the world into a matamkhana (mourning chamber), and for having successfully transformed the east into an example of hell.
Utth raha hai shor gham khakistar paamaal se
Keh raha hai Asia ro kar zaban-e haal se
Bar mazar-e ma ghariban ne chiraghe ne gule
Ne pare parwane sozo ne sada-e bulbule
(A shout is rising from the dust of the downtrodden
Asia is crying out and telling the world at large
On my poor grave there are neither lamps nor flowers
And not the wing of the moth or the sad song of the nightingale.)
(Rakhshanda Jalil is a writer, translator and literary historian. She writes on literature, culture and society. She runs Hindustani Awaaz, an organisation devoted to the popularisation of Urdu literature. She tweets at @RakshandaJalil
This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)
source: http://www.thequint.com / The Quint / Home> Voices> Opinion / by Rakshanda Jalil / November 11th, 2022
