‘Times They are-a Changin`’
There was never such a threat to the integrity of our nation as now.
Desh-drohis are planning rebellion in every street, every mohalla
of the country. Urban centres are
teeming with Naxalites, who are busy
in upending the social-democratic structure of our society. State enemies have ganged up and want to blow the country
in tukade-tukade. India-bashers and
Indian-haters, stooges of western ideology, the highbrow crowd of Lutyens’s Delhi and
Khan Market, preach their seditious ideas with impunity. Harward trained pseudo-intellectuals
spread calumnies about the hardworking,
desh-sewaks. Descendants of nomadic
invaders, a barbaric race, foreign to our culture, want to disrupt the harmony
that characterises our diverse nation.
Bob Dylan sang about the ‘times
they are a-changin`’.
And these times that ‘are
a-changin`’ demand new
interpretations of old concepts.
Definition of patriotism has thus
been revised. To sincerely work at your job all your life, to pay your taxes
honestly and to abide by the law of the land as a responsible citizen is no
service to the nation. One must wear their bleeding heart – a heart that sheds
tears of blood for the country – on their sleeves. One must have a robust hatred
- and loudly proclaim such - for the ways of fellow countrymen which are
perceived alien to our culture. Latter may be language, food, literature,
clothing or architecture. One must cultivate exquisitely delicate sentiments
that are grievously hurt at the mere mention of our culture in any but
hyperbolically laudatory manner. One must have an unstinted, unshakeable belief
in the greatness – as narrated by the ideologues of the new nationalistic
zeitgeist – of our millennia old culture and a healthy dislike for every other
civilisation in the world. Vigour of patriotism is now measured by the loudness
of chest thumping employed in its display.
Times were ‘a-changin`’ in India of 1930s too. Country was
fired by a zeal to free itself from imperialism and chart its destiny on its
own terms. Intellectuals differed in their approach to achieve the ideal of
liberty and prosperity for every citizen. Faiz Ahmad Faiz, a young poet in his
twenties and a post-graduate in English, arrived in Amritsar to teach English
at one of its colleges. Here he befriended the writers of All India Progressive
Writer’s Association. This contact changed the course of Faiz’s poetry. His
poetry soon became a mascot for this ideology – ‘बोल कि लब आज़ाद हैं तेरे, बोल ज़बाँ अब तक तेरी है …’
Another writer of the same era,
but from a different world, whose writing was irredeemably influenced by the
prevailing political milieu, was George Orwell. In his essay ‘Why I Write’ he
says, ‘Every
line of serious work that I have written since 1936 has been written, directly
or indirectly, against totalitarianism
and for democratic socialism, as I understand it.’ Orwell didn’t
abjure artistic invention in his writings which had an unabashed political
message – ‘What I have most wanted to do throughout the past ten years is to
make political writing into an art. … I am not able, and do not want,
completely to abandon the world view that I acquired in childhood. So long as I
remain alive and well, I shall continue to feel strongly about prose style, to
love the surface of the earth, and to take a pleasure in solid objects and
scraps of useless information. It is no use trying to suppress that side of
myself. The job is to reconcile my ingrained likes and dislikes with the
essentially public, non-individual activities that this age forces on all of
us.’
This quest for literary excellence
suffuses Faiz’s poetry too. His poems, seeped in socialist ideology, are
composed in an ineffably beautiful language. His poetic imagery is matchlessly
elegant. A lover of poetry is left mesmerised with an intense sense of
wonderment.
But lest I wander far, I must introduce the Nazm that set me thinking about the times that are ‘a-changin`' In this nazm, Do Ishq, Faiz talks about two loves of his life – for the beloved and for the country. He says both are alike and he is proud of both.
The subtlety of emotions, the refinement
of literary form, an unrepentant irreverence for dogmas in society – apart from
his problematic ideology – contrast sharply with the ways of neo-patriotism. Is
it a surprise then, that Faiz is an anathema to all such
thought-pundits?
दो इश्क़
फ़ैज़ अहमद फ़ैज़
(1)
ताज़ा हैं अभी याद में ऐ साक़ी-ए-गुलफ़ाम1
वो अक्स-ए-रुख़-ए-यार2 से लहके3 हुए अय्याम4
वो फूल सी खुलती हुई दीदार5 की साअत6
वो दिल सा धड़कता हुआ उम्मीद का हंगाम
1. Flower-faced saaqui 2. Reflection of lover’s
face
3. Blooming 4. Days 5. Spectacle of beloved 6.
Moments
उम्मीद कि लो जागा ग़म-ए-दिल7 का नसीबा
लो शौक़ की तरसी हुई शब हो गई आख़िर
लो डूब गए दर्द के बे-ख़्वाब सितारे
अब चमकेगा बे-सब्र निगाहों का मुक़द्दर
7. Sorrows of heart
इस बाम8 से निकलेगा तिरे हुस्न का ख़ुर्शीद9
इस कुंज से फूटेगी किरन रंग-ए-हिना10 की
इस दर से बहेगा तिरी रफ़्तार का सीमाब11
उस राह पे फैलेगी शफ़क़12 तेरी क़बा13 की
8. Courtyard 9. Sun 10. Henna-coloured
11. Mercury 12. Evening light 13. Robes
फिर देखे हैं वो हिज्र14 के तपते हुए दिन भी
जब फ़िक्र-ए-दिल-ओ-जाँ15 में फ़ुग़ाँ16 भूल गई है
हर शब वो सियह17 बोझ कि दिल बैठ गया है
हर सुब्ह की लौ तीर सी सीने में लगी है
14. Separation from the lover 15. Worries of life
16. Complaints 17. Dark
तंहाई में क्या क्या न तुझे याद किया है
क्या क्या न दिल-ए-ज़ार18 ने ढूँडी हैं पनाहें
आँखों से लगाया है कभी दस्त-ए-सबा19 को
डाली हैं कभी गर्दन-ए-महताब20 में बाहें
18. Suffering heart 19. Hand of breeze 20. Moon’s
neck
(2)
चाहा है इसी रंग में लैला-ए-वतन21 को
तड़पा है इसी तौर से दिल उस की लगन में
ढूँडी है यूँही शौक़ ने आसाइश-ए-मंज़िल22
रुख़्सार23 के ख़म24 में कभी काकुल25 की शिकन26 में
21. Beloved country 22. Pleasure of reaching
destination
23. Face 24. Bend 25. Ringlet of lock 26. Curl
उस जान-ए-जहाँ को भी यूँही क़ल्ब-ओ-नज़र27 ने
हँस हँस के सदा दी कभी रो रो के पुकारा
पूरे किए सब हर्फ़-ए-तमन्ना28 के तक़ाज़े
हर दर्द को उजयाला हर इक ग़म को सँवारा
27. Heart and eyes 28. Words of desire
वापस नहीं फेरा
कोई
फ़रमान
जुनूँ
का
तन्हा नहीं लौटी
कभी
आवाज़
जरस29
की
ख़ैरिय्यत-ए-जाँ
राहत-ए-तन
सेह्हत-ए-दामाँ
सब भूल गईं मस्लिहतें30 अहल-ए-हवस31
की
29. Gongs or bell 30. Compromises
31. Lustful people
इस राह में जो सब पे गुज़रती है वो गुज़री
तन्हा पस-ए-ज़िंदाँ32 कभी रुस्वा सर-ए-बाज़ार
गरजे हैं बहुत शैख़33 सर-ए-गोशा-ए-मिम्बर34
कड़के हैं बहुत अहल-ए-हकम35 बर-सर-ए-दरबार36
32. Behind the prison 33. Preacher, leader
34. From the pulpit 35. Government's agents 36. In court
छोड़ा नहीं ग़ैरों ने कोई नावक-ए-दुश्नाम37
छूटी नहीं अपनों से कोई तर्ज़-ए-मलामत38
इस इश्क़ न उस इश्क़ पे नादिम39 है मगर दिल
हर दाग़ है इस दिल में ब-जुज़40-दाग़-ए-नदामत41
37. Arrows of abuse 38. Manner of criticism
39. Sorry, repentant 40. Except 41. Scar of shame
Two Loves
Faiz Ahmad
Faiz
(1)
O friend! Memory still retains
Days that were, in beloved’s beauty inflamed
Moments blooming like a flower, as eyes met you
Alike a pounding heart, fluttering hopes
unchained
Hope stirs – fate of desolate heart is turning
Night, denied of every longing, will now abate
Sleepless stars of pain, have all vanished
Now will shine, anxious eyes’ fate
On this terrace will rise, the sun of your beauty
From this corner will sprout, henna-coloured rays
Through this door will flow, the quicksilver of
your gait
On this path will spread, your robe’s twilight
glaze
We have witnessed, blazing days of separation
When all grouse, we forgot in our woes
Such weight of dark nights, that heart was nearly
sunk,
When rays of dawn pierced the chest like
arrows
In loneliness, how haven’t I ached for you
What all shelters, dismal heart did not trace
Held the hands of breeze, close to the eyes
Threw arms around the moon, in embrace
(2)
We adored beloved country, in the same manner
Heart agonised in this desire, in similar ways
Alike longing sought, solace in journey’s end
In a curl of the lock or in a curve of the face
Similarly, heart called out for that beloved
With smile on lips or in tearful gloom
We fulfilled every demand of desire
Brightened every pain, every sorrow we groomed.
No command of frenzy, did we ever return
Peal of calling bells, received our highest trust
Soul’s wellbeing, solace in life, body’s comfort
We forsook all compromise of the people of lust
What others suffer on this path, we too suffered
Alone behind the bars or humiliated mid-bazar
Many preachers have shouted from atop the pulpits
Many officers have hollered, in courts near and
far
No arrow of abuse, did rivals ever spare
Friends did not shun, any manner of blame
For this love or that love, heart is not ashamed
Every scar is on the heart, but for the scar of
shame
Profound. His call for Azadi still echoes in a Azaad Hindoostan!!
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