Re: [Reader-list] A Poem by Faraz
Via: Shuddhabrata Sengupta
Dear Kshmendra, Dear all,
Many thanks, Kshmendra, for the posts on Ahmed Faraz's death, news of
which will leave all those who love Urdu poetry with a sense of loss.
Thank you also for your translation, and for the link to online
editions of Faraz's poems, which I am sure will introduce the many
non-Urdu speakers on this list to a sense of Faraz's work.
In many parked cars all over north India, middle aged gentlemen
sipping clandestine whisky alone by themselves, or with a sad
companion, sometimes play the song 'Ranjish hi sahi" or 'At least let
there be rancour' in a saccharine sweet rendition by Ghulam Ali,
without knowing that they are listening to the words of Ahmed Faraz.
To most, Faraaz is the consummate poet of male melancholia, of
unrequited love and the bittersweet ironic cadences of unspoken (or
unspeakable) desire, sometimes smothered by the over-the-top voices
of many Indian and Pakistani Ghazal singers. I have a certain
affection for this Faraz, as I do, in my own way ,for his melancholy
fans.
But there is also an angry, acerbic Faraz. A Faraz less likely to
feature in the CD players of punjabi gentlemen as they pour
themselves another large measure of Blenders Pride, or if they can
get it, Scotch, before they return to loveless marriages and
sleepless nights thinking about falling interest rates.
And this is Faraaz the traitor, the Faraz I love.
Ahmed Faraz is one of the few poets who earned himself the
distinction of imprisonment under Zulfikar Ali Bhutto as well as
exile under Zia ul Haq. His words spoke a trenchant opposition to
every henchman that has occupied the postition of paramountcy in the
sad and bleak political landscape of Pakistan. Neither Nawaz Sharif,
nor Parwaiz Musharraf escaped his scathing tongue. And he returned
his Hilal-e-Imtiaz, the highest civilian decoration given to
Pakistanis in disgust at the excesses of Musharraf's military
dictatorship.
Faraz may have been loved by people all over the Urdu speaking world,
but he has had his fair share of hatred from many Pakistani
nationalists, and was considered by many to be a traitor, a
seditionist, especially after his poem 'Pesheywar Qatilon Tum Sipahi
Nahi!' spoke openly and critically of the genocide unleashed by the
Pakistani Army in erstwhile East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) and
massacres in Balochistan.
Here is my rough, random and incorrect attempt at translation of
some of the lines of this poem. The Urdu (romanized) fragment is
first, the English version follows.
Pesheywar Qatilon Tum Sipahi Nahi!
Mein ne ab tak tumhare qaseeday likhe
Aur Aaj apne naghmo se sharminda hoon
.....
seena chakan-e-mashriq bhee apnay hee thay
jin ka khooN mooN pay malnay kay tum aaey they
.....
in kee taqdeer to kya badaltay magar
in kee naslain badalnay ko tum aaey thay
.....
aur marg-e-bangal kay baad bolan main
shehrioN kay galay katnay aaing gay
Dear Kshmendra, Dear all,
Many thanks, Kshmendra, for the posts on Ahmed Faraz's death, news of
which will leave all those who love Urdu poetry with a sense of loss.
Thank you also for your translation, and for the link to online
editions of Faraz's poems, which I am sure will introduce the many
non-Urdu speakers on this list to a sense of Faraz's work.
In many parked cars all over north India, middle aged gentlemen
sipping clandestine whisky alone by themselves, or with a sad
companion, sometimes play the song 'Ranjish hi sahi" or 'At least let
there be rancour' in a saccharine sweet rendition by Ghulam Ali,
without knowing that they are listening to the words of Ahmed Faraz.
To most, Faraaz is the consummate poet of male melancholia, of
unrequited love and the bittersweet ironic cadences of unspoken (or
unspeakable) desire, sometimes smothered by the over-the-top voices
of many Indian and Pakistani Ghazal singers. I have a certain
affection for this Faraz, as I do, in my own way ,for his melancholy
fans.
But there is also an angry, acerbic Faraz. A Faraz less likely to
feature in the CD players of punjabi gentlemen as they pour
themselves another large measure of Blenders Pride, or if they can
get it, Scotch, before they return to loveless marriages and
sleepless nights thinking about falling interest rates.
And this is Faraaz the traitor, the Faraz I love.
Ahmed Faraz is one of the few poets who earned himself the
distinction of imprisonment under Zulfikar Ali Bhutto as well as
exile under Zia ul Haq. His words spoke a trenchant opposition to
every henchman that has occupied the postition of paramountcy in the
sad and bleak political landscape of Pakistan. Neither Nawaz Sharif,
nor Parwaiz Musharraf escaped his scathing tongue. And he returned
his Hilal-e-Imtiaz, the highest civilian decoration given to
Pakistanis in disgust at the excesses of Musharraf's military
dictatorship.
Faraz may have been loved by people all over the Urdu speaking world,
but he has had his fair share of hatred from many Pakistani
nationalists, and was considered by many to be a traitor, a
seditionist, especially after his poem 'Pesheywar Qatilon Tum Sipahi
Nahi!' spoke openly and critically of the genocide unleashed by the
Pakistani Army in erstwhile East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) and
massacres in Balochistan.
Here is my rough, random and incorrect attempt at translation of
some of the lines of this poem. The Urdu (romanized) fragment is
first, the English version follows.
Pesheywar Qatilon Tum Sipahi Nahi!
Mein ne ab tak tumhare qaseeday likhe
Aur Aaj apne naghmo se sharminda hoon
.....
seena chakan-e-mashriq bhee apnay hee thay
jin ka khooN mooN pay malnay kay tum aaey they
.....
in kee taqdeer to kya badaltay magar
in kee naslain badalnay ko tum aaey thay
.....
aur marg-e-bangal kay baad bolan main
shehrioN kay galay katnay aaing gay
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