Sunday, 22 April 2007

Faiz - bahaar aai to jaise

bahaar aayii to jaise ek baar
lauT aaye hai.n phir adam se
vo khwaab saare, shabaab saare
jo tere honTo.n pe mar miTe the
jo miT ke har baar phir jiye the
nikhar gaye.n hai.n gulaab saare
jo terii yaado.n se mushkbuu hai.n
jo tere ushhaak kaa lahuu hai.n

ubal paDe hai.n azaab saare
malaal-e-ahwaal-e-dostaa.n bhii
khumaar-e-aagosh-e-mahvashaa.n bhii
gubaar-e-khaatir ke baab saare
tere hamaare
sawaal saare, jawaab saare

bahaar aayii to khul gaye hai.n
naye sire se hisaab saare

बहार आई तो जैसे एक बार
लौट आये हैं फिर अदम से
वो ख़्वाब सारे, शबाब सारे
जो तेरे होंटों पे मर मिटे थे
जो मिट के हर बार फिर जिए थे
निखर गएँ हैं गुलाब सारे
जो तेरी यादों से मुश्क्बू हैं
जो तेरे उश्शाक का लहू हैं

उबल पड़े हैं अज़ाब सारे
मलाल-ए-अहवाल-ए-दोस्तां भी
खुमार-ए-आगोश-ए-महवशां भी
गुबार-ए-खातिर के बाब सारे
तेरे हमारे
सवाल सारे, जवाब सारे

बहार आई तो खुल गए हैं
नए सिरे से हिसाब सारे

With the coming of spring, once again
it's like they have returned from non-existence
all those thoughts, all that youthfulness
which had sacrificed themselves upon your lips
which had always sprung up again after their sacrifice

All those roses have bloomed again
which are fragrant with memories of you
(and) which are the life-blood of your lover

All those agonies are ebullient again
the regret at the condition of friends too
the intoxication of the beloved's embrace too
All those subjects, in the dust-clouds of memory

All those questions, all those answers
yours and mine

With the coming of spring
all the accounts are open afresh

Beautiful! And so typically Faiz!!

The second half is particularly haunting. And the closing verse is an entire poem in itself!... 'With the coming of spring, all the account books (previously settled and closed) are open again' - and all that life-wrenching give-and-take, all that pain of separation and union, it is all again on the table, to be negotiated afresh!

And when it is all settled and agreed, the closure would last... only until the next spring!

There is this delightfully fatalistic sense of acceptance of the 'inevitability of repitition' which reigns throughout the poem.

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