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When I promised on the last post that this sonorous Faiz ghazal would be next, i hadn't intended such an inexcusably long hiatus to intervene! Regrets and apologies. A constellation of circumstances conspired to keep me away from here - some frantic flurries of activity at work, a bout of illness and hospital stay, followed by hassles of having to shift base across countries...
As mentioned earlier, the following ghazal appears in Faiz' Sar-e-Vadii-e-Seena, dating from the late 60s. Though not among his best known ones, it wears a nice conversational air, while retaining Faiz's trademark 'political' overtones.
Toofaa.n-ba-dil hai har koi dildaar dekhnaa
gul ho na jaaye mash'al-e-rukhsaar dekhnaa
तूफां-ब-दिल है हर कोई दिलदार देखना
गुल हो न जाए मश'अल-ए-रुखसार देखना
طوفاں بہ دل ہے ہر کوئی دلدار دیکھنا
گل حونہ جاۓ مشعل رخسار دیکھنا
Look sweetheart - everyone has a storm in (his) heart
Watch out, lest the lantern of (your) face gets blown out!
The sher wears a nicely mocking tone which works equally well whether it is seen, in traditional ghazal terms, as directed against an incandescently beauteous Beloved who inspires 'storms' in hearts, or (as intended) against a symbol of power/authority who believes himself immune to popular sentiment...
aatish-ba-jaa.n hai har koi sarkaar dekhnaa
lau de uThe na turrah-e-tarraar dekhnaa
आतिश-ब-जां है हर कोई सरकार देखना
लौ दे उठे न तुर्रा-ए-तर्रार देखना
آتش بہ جاں ہے ہر کوئی سرکار دیکھنا
لو دے اٹھے نہ طرّہ طرار دیکھنا
Look Your Majesty, everyone's soul is alight,
Watch out, lest (your) curled forelock catches the flame!
More of the same. The second line is exceptionally cute - the fashionably curled forelock of the Beloved, or the tasselled plume worn on a regal turban, would both be equally susceptible to incendiary contact...!
jazb-e-musaafiraan-e-rah-e-yaar dekhnaa
sar dekhnaa na sang na deewaar dekhnaa
जज़्ब-ए-मुसफिरां-ए-रह-ए-यार देखना
सर देखना न संग न दीवार देखना
جزب مسافران رہ یار دیکھنا
سر دیکھنا نہ سنگ نہ دیوار دیکھنا
Look at the absorption of the travellers (on) the Beloved's lane!
(they) see neither their heads, nor the stones, nor (even) the walls!
Doesn't that second line have a lovely flow to it?! And such endearing simplicity of words! One can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the besotted souls shuffling dazedly, zombie like, around the Beloved's threshold, oblivious to projectiles directed against them, or to the obstacles they run into!
kuu-e-jafaa mei.n qaht-e-khariidaar dekhnaa
ham aa gaye to garmii-e-baazaar dekhnaa
कू-ए-जफा में कहत-ए-खरीदार देखना
हम आ गए तो गर्मी-ए-बाज़ार देखना
کوۓ جفا میں کہط خریدار دیکھنا
ہم آ گۓ تو گرمی بازار دیکھنا
See the paucity of buyers in the lane of oppression
(but) watch how the market heats up once I get there!
And the 'Koo-e-Jafaa', which was populated by determinedly masochistic souls in the last sher, now becomes devoid of 'customers'... until the Poet gets there, of course! Qaht is used in the sense of 'dearth' or 'lack'; also used to denote a famine or drought.
us dilnawaaz shahar ke atwaar dekhnaa
be-iltifaat bolnaa bezaar dekhnaa
उस दिलनवाज़ शहर के अतवार देखना
बे-इल्तिफ़ात बोलना बेज़ार देखना
اس دلنواز شہر کے اطوار دیکھنا
بے التفات بولنا بیزار دیکھنا
look at the manners of that heart-soothing city
uncivil speech, (and) vexed looks!
Dil-Nawaaz would be literally 'heart soothing' or 'heart cherishing', though it is used in the sense of 'Beloved'. But here, the literal meaning contrasts more enjoyably with the boorish unfriendliness of the Beloved's town! Atwar is used for 'mode of behaviour' or 'dealings'; Iltifaat denotes respect or consideration. Both come from Arabic roots.
khaalii hai garche masnad-o-mimbar niguu.n hai khalk
ru'aab-e-kabaa va haibat-e-dastaar dekhnaa
खाली हैं गरचे मसनद-ओ-मिम्बर निगूं है ख़ल्क़
रौब-ए-क़बा व हैबत-ए-दस्तार देखना
خالی ہیں گرچھ مسند و منبر نگوں ہے خلق
رعب قبا و ہیبت دستار دیکھنا
albeit the throne and pulpit are empty, creation (still) stands bowed
see the clout of the robe, and the dread of the turban!
Oh very nice! This one is pure politics! 'Symbols' of power can cow down humanity, even when they are held by 'vacuous' people! Don't you love the way Faiz manages to take on both secular and scriptural figures of authority here?
Mimbar is a pulpit or rostrum, Masnad denotes a cushion or a royal seat. Niguu.n is, of course, the state of 'hanging' or 'drooping', often used to denote abjectness. Dastaar is the muslin cloth used to tie a turban. Haibat is used for fear or intimidation or awe...
jab tak naseeb thaa teraa diidaar dekhnaa
jis simt dekhnaa gul-o-gulzaar dekhnaa
जब तक नसीब था तेरा दीदार देखना
जिस सिम्त देखना गुल-ओ-गुलज़ार देखना
جب تک نصیب تھا تیرا دیدار دیکھنا
جس سمت دیکھنا گل و گلزار دیکھنا
Until (I) used to be afforded your glimpse
in whichever direction I looked, I perceived (only) flowers and flower-gardens
Somewhat ho-hum, this one, no...?
phir ham tamiiz-e-roz-o-mah-o-saal kar sake.n
ai yaad-e-yaar phir idhar ek baar dekhnaa
फिर हम तमीज़-ए-रोज़-ओ-मह-ओ-साल कर सकें
ऐ याद-ए-यार फिर इधर एक बार देखना
پھرہم تمیز روز و مہ و سال کر سکیں
اے یاد یار پھر ادھر ایک بار دیکھنا
(so that) I can again distinguish days from months, months from years,
O beloved's memory, glance back (at me) one more time!
Oh, much nicer! One who is abandoned not only by the Beloved, but even by her memory, would indeed lose the markers, the perspectives, of time. Doesn't that second line capture a truly poignant plea...?
