Celebrating the Best of Urdu Poetry Page 5

  बुत-परसती

  उम्र सारी तो कटी इश्क़-ए-बुतां में मोमिन

  आख़िरी वक़्त में क्या ख़ाक मुसलमां होंगे

  Buth parastee

  Umr saaree to katee ishq-e-butaan mein Momin

  Aakhree vaqt mein kya khaak Musalmaan hongey

  Silent Truth

  There are some who remain silent

  But are sunk in deep surmise,

  Yes, they will speak the truth,

  But when the price of truth is on the rise.

  Idolatry

  Momin, in the love of idols and idolaters your life was spent,

  Now that it ends, what hope do you have of being Muslim and repent?

  हाज़िर जवाबी

  जब कहा मैंने की तुम बेदादगर ना आशना

  बे मोहब्बत बे-वफ़ा बेगाना-ए-एहबाब हो

  तो फिर उसने हंस के फरमाया की मैं जो हूं सो हूं

  तुम भी तो बेचैन हो बेसब्र हो बेताब हो

  Haazir javaabee

  Jab kahaa mainey ki tum bedaadgar na-aashnaa

  Bey mohabbat bewafaa begaanaa-e-ehbaab ho

  To phir usney hans key farmaaya ki main jo hoon so hoon

  Tum bhee to bechain ho besabr ho betaab ho

  तुम्हें याद हो की न याद हो

  वो जो हममें तुममें क़रार था तुम्हें याद हो की न याद हो

  वही यानी वादा निबाह का तुम्हें याद हो की न याद हो

  वह जो लुत्फ़ मुझपे थे पेश्तर वह करम की था मेरे हाल पर

  मुझे सब है याद ज़रा-ज़रा तुम्हें याद हो की न याद हो

  Tumhein yaad ho ki na yaad ho

  Vo jo hummein tummein qaraar thha tumhein yaad ho ki na yaad ho

  Vahee yaani vaadaa nibaah ka tumhein yaad ho ki na yaad ho

  Vo jo lutf mujh pey thhey peshtar voh karam ki thhaa merey haal par

  Mujhey sab hai yaad zaraa zaraa tumhein yaad ho ki na yaad ho

  Riposte

  When I said, ‘You are unjust, unfriendly, unloving, unfaithful and behave like a stranger,’

  She laughed and replied, ‘What I am I am! But you too are restless, impatient and far too eager!’

  Past Love

  That faith we reposed in each other, you may remember or you may have forgot.

  Those promises we made to stick together, you may remember or you may have forgot.

  The favours you showed me, the kind eye you had for my state,

  In bits and pieces I remember it all, you may remember or you may have forgot.

  NAWAB MIRZA KHAN DAAGH DEHLVI

  (1831–––1905)

  Nawab Mirza Khan Daagh was born in 1831 into Delhi aristocracy. He lost his father when he was six and was brought up in the Red Fort by his stepfather, Mirza Muhammed Fakhroo, heir to Bahadur Shah Zafar’s throne. On Fakhroo’s death in 1865, Daagh left Delhi for Rampur where he entered government service and lived in comfort for twenty-four years. He was poet laureate at the court of the Nawab of Rampur. Thereafter followed a period of wandering which ended when he was invited by the Nizam of Hyderabad in 1891.

  Daagh’s forte was the ghazal, and the tone of his poems exuberant. He was a self-acknowledged romantic and, contrary to the impression one gets from his poetry, a teetotaler. Daagh’s work was extremely popular in his lifetime and Iqbal sent him his compositions seeking his advice.

  फासले

  उज़्र आने में भी है और बुलाते भी नहीं

  बाइसे-तर्के-मुलाक़ात बताते भी नहीं

  ख़ूब पर्दा है की चिलमन से लगे बैठे हैं

  साफ़ छुपते भी नहीं सामने आते भी नहीं

  हो चुका क़ता-तअल्लुक़ यो जफ़ाएं क्यों हों

  जिनको मतलब नहीं रहता वो सताते भी नहीं

  ज़ीस्त से तंग हो ऐ दाग़ तो जीते क्यों हो

  जान प्यारी भी नहीं जान से जाते भी नहीं

  Faasley

  Uzr aaney mein bhee hai aur bulaatey bhee naheen

  Baais-e-tark-e-mulaaqaat bataatey bhee naheen

  Khoob pardaa hai key chilman sey lagey baitthey hain

  Saaf chhuptey bhee naheen saamney aatey bhee naheen

  Ho chukaa qataa taa’lluq to jafaayen kyon ho

  Jinko matlab naheen rehtaa vo sataatey bhee naheen

  Zeest sey tang ho ai Daagh to jeetey kyon ho

  Jaan pyaaree bhee naheen jaan sey jaatey bhee naheen

  Distance

  She hesitates to come to me, nor does she invite me to her door

  Or tell me why we’ve stopped seeing each other as before.

  She sits at a distance with her face partly veiled so I can’t see

  Nor does she sit in front, facing me.

  When our love affair is over, why inflict pain?

  Those who have nothing more to do with you should desist from torture, it is in vain

  If you are bored of living, Daagh, why go on so long?

  If you don’t enjoy life, why then carry on.

  सवाल

  रसमे-उल्फ़त सीखा कोई

  दिल की दुनिया पे छा गया कोई

  ता क़यामत किसी तरह न बुझे

  आग ऐसी लगा गया कोई

  दिल की दुनिया उजाड़ सी क्यों है

  क्या यहां से चला गया कोई

  वक़्ते-रुख़्सत गले लगाकर दाग़

  हंसते हंसते रुला गया कोई

  Savaal

  Rasm-e-ulfat sikhaa gayaa koee

  Dil kee duniyaa pey chhaa gayaa koee

  Taa qayaamat kisee tarah na bujhey

  Aag aisee lagaa gayaa koee

  Dil kee duniyaa ujaad see kyoon hai

  Kyaa yahaan sey chalaa gayaa koee

  Vaqt-e-rukhsat galey lagaa kar Daagh

  Hastey hastey rulaa gayaa koee

  Questions

  Someone taught me the rites of love

  Someone filled my heartspace from above.

  Someone lit a fire that won’t die

  Till the world spins to eternity.

  Why is my heart a desert waste,

  Now that someone has gone, leaving it desolate.

  Who left you, Daagh, with a happy embrace

  While you remained with a tear-stained face.

  AKBAR HUSSAIN AKBAR ALLAHABADI

  (1846–––1921)

  Akbar was born in Bara, near Allahabad. He was a scholarly, readywitted and affable man with a sharp sense of humour which became the hallmark of his poetry. Akbar was conservative in his views. He opposed Westernization of Indian society. Though he supported the segregation of women and believed in purdah, he championed the cause of education for women.

  काग़जी पढ़ाई

  बाग़ों में तो बहार दरख़्तों की देख ली

  कॉलेज में आ के कन्वोकेशन को देखिये

  लीमू तो काग़जी बहुत देखे ह�
�ं आपने

  अब काग़जी तरक़्की-ए-नेशन को देखिये

  Kaaghazi parhaai

  Baaghon mein to bahaar darakhton kee dekh lee

  College mein aa key convocation ko dekhiye

  Leemoo to kaaghazee bahut dekhey hain aapney

  Ab kaaghazee taraqqee-e-nation ko dekhiye

  दीन की बातें

  मज़हबी बहस मैंने की ही नहीं

  फ़ालतू अक़्ल मुझ में थी ही नहीं

  Deen kee baatein

  Mazhabee bahas meiney kee hee naheen

  Faaltoo aql mujh mein thhee hee naheen

  वकील

  पैदा हुआ वकील तो इबलीस ने कहा

  लो आज हम भी साहिबे-औलाद हो गये

  Vakeel

  Paida hua vakeel to Iblees ney kahaa

  Lo aaj hum bhee saahib-e-aulaad ho gaye

  Paper Learning

  In gardens you must have seen trees in seasonal glory

  Now come and see a college convocation.

  Lemons with paper-thin skins you must have seen in plenty

  Now behold the paper-progress of the nation.

  Religious Debates

  To involve myself in religious debates, I never did care

  I never had, nor have any brains to spare.

  Lawyers

  The day a lawyer was born Satan said with joy

  ‘Allah has made me today the father of a boy.’

  दीनदार शराबी

  साग़र-ए-मय है सामने शौख़ से कह रहे हैम सब

  देखता क्या है हर तरफ़ मर्द-ए-खुदा चढ़ा भी जा

  Deendaar sharaabi

  Saaghar-e-mai hai saamney shaikh sey keh rahey hain sab

  Dekhta kya hai har taraf mard-e-khuda charha bhee ja

  ख़ुदाई

  हर ज़र्रा चमकता है अनवार-ए-इलाही से

  हर सांस ये कहती कई है हम हैं तो खुदा भी है

  Khudaee

  Har zarraa chamaktaa hai anvar-e-ilaahee sey

  Har saans ye kehtee hai hum hain to khuda bhee hai

  खुदा का नाम

  रक़ीबों ने रपट लिखवाई है जा जा के थाने में

  की अकबर नाम लेता है खुदा का इस जमाने में

  Khuda ka naam

  Raqeebon ney rapat likhvaee hai jaa jaa key thhaaney mein

  Ki Akbar naam leta hai khuda ka is zamaney mein

  Holy Bibber

  The jug of wine lies before the sheikh as well as the cup

  ‘Why look here and there, man of God? Bottoms up!’

  Being God

  Every mote of dust is aglow with divine light for you to see

  Every breath you take proclaims, ‘If I am, so God must be.’

  The Name of God

  My rivals have lodged complaints against me in police stations for the crime

  That Akbar continues to take the name of God in the present age and time.

  SHAAD AZIMABADI

  (1846–1927)

  Not much is known about Shaad Azimabadi. He was born Syed Ali Muhammad in Patna which is where he also died.

  कहां से कहां को

  सुनी हिकायते-हस्ती

  तो दरमियाम से सुनी

  न इब्तदा की ख़बर है

  न इन्तहा मालूम

  Kahaan sey kahaan ko

  Sunee hikaayat-e-hastee

  To darmiyaan sey sunee

  Na ibtidaa kee khabar hai

  Na intihaa maaloom

  दरिया-ए-मुहब्बत

  मैं हैरत-ओ-हसरत का मारा

  ख़ामोश खड़ा हूं साहिल पर

  दरिया-ए-मुहब्बत कहता है

  आ कुछ भी नहीं पायाब हैं हम

  Dariya-e-mohabbat

  Main hairat-o-hasrat ka maaraa

  Khaamosh khara hoon saahil par

  Dariyaa-e-mohabbat kehta hai

  Aa kuchh bhee naheen paayaab hain hum

  Where from, Where to

  When I woke to the story of life

  It was already the middle of the tale,

  I know nothing of the beginning

  I'll know nothing of the end.

  The River of Love

  Overcome by wonder and longing

  I stand in silence by the shore

  The river of love beckons and says to me,

  ‘I am only knee-deep, fear no more.’

  येह कूचा

  हूं इस कूचे के हर ज़र्रे से वाक़िफ़

  यहां से मुद्दतों आया गया हूं

  Yeh koocha

  Hoon is koochey key har zarrey sey vaaqif

  Yahaan sey muddaton aayaa gayaa hoon

  तमन्नाएं

  तमन्नाओं मेम उलझाया गया हूं

  खिलौने दे के बहलाया गया हूं

  Tamannaayen

  Tamannaaon mein uljhaayaa gayaa hoon

  Khilauney dey key behlaayaa gayaa hoon

  This Lane

  Every speck of dust on this lane I know

  For ages it has been my way to and fro.

  Web of Desire

  In the web of desires I have been caught

  With the gift of toys have I been bought.

  MOHAMMAD IQBAL

  (1873–1938)

  Sir Mohammed Iqbal, MA Philosophy (Punjab), Ph.D (Heidelberg) and Barrister at law (London), also received doctorates in literature and philosophy from many other universities. He is recognized as the inheritor of Ghalib and the second-most renowned poet of Urdu. Like many of his predecessors, he wrote in both Urdu and Persian. The message he sought to convey is usually described as khudi— selfhood or self-assertion to achieve one’s aims. Iqbal was an ardent supporter of a separate, independent state for Indian Muslims, and is regarded as one of the founding fathers of Pakistan. He was obsessed with religion, mainly Islam. Early in his poetic career, he composed ‘Shikva’ (The Mortal’s Complaint to Allah), and ‘Javaabe- Shikva’ (Allah’s Reply to the Mortal’s Complaint) on the rise and downfall of the Muslim people.

  Iqbal’s tomb, close to the Badshahi Mosque in Lahore, is a national shrine.

  इम्तेहान

  खुदा से हुस्न ने इक रोज़ यह सवाल किया

  जहां में क्यों न मुझे तूने लाज़वाल किया

  मिला जवाब की तस्वीरख़ाना है दुनिया

  शब-ए-दराज़ अदम का फ़साना है दुनिया

  हुई है रंग-ए-तग़य्युर से जब नमूद इसकी

  वही हसीं है हक़ीक़त ज़वाल है जिसकी

  कहीं क़रीब था ये गुफ़्तगू क़मर ने सुनी

  फ़लक पे आम हुई अख़्तर-ए-सहर ने सुनी

  सहर ने तारे से सुनकर सुनाई शबनम को

  फ़लक की बात दी ज़मीं के महरम को

  भर आये फूल के आंसू पयाम-ए-शबमान से

  कली का नन्ह�
��-सा दिल खून हो गया ग़म से

  चमन से रोता हुआ मौसम-ए-बहा गया

  शबाब सैर को आया था सोगवार गया

  Imtehaan

  Khuda sey husn ney ik roz yeh savaal kiya

  Jahaan mein kyon na mujhey tooney laazavaal kiya

  Mila javaab ki tasveerkhaanaa hai duniya

  Shab-e-daraaz adam ka fasaana hai duniya

  Huee hai rang-e-taghayyur sey jab namood iskee

  Vahee haseen hai haqeeqat zavaal hai jiskee

  Kaheen qareeb thha ye guftagoo qamar ney sunee

  Falak pey aam huee akhtar-e-sahar ney sunee

  Sahar ney taarey sey sunkar sunaaee shabnam ko