Whither those bards?

Punjabi, along with sister languages Saraiki and Sindhi, is a very passionate and expressive language. Its articulation is homely, informal and down-to-earth.

My school teacher Dr. Suhail Bukhari, the famed Urdu etymologist, used to tell us that as compared to other Indian languages, Punjabi is among the most expressive, spontaneous and adept at describing a situation. He would cite example of many words to illustrate his point. When we lived in the walled city of Lahore, many such words were in use in my family at that time but the shift in preferences towards Urdu has put all these words out of use in our household – as in many others. I haven’t heard or used some of those words in decades now.

Punjabi is especially suited to describing Sufi idioms, thoughts and ideas and has produced a large number of high-quality poets in this genre. While being agonisingly poignant, some of this poetry, expressed in simple straightforward words, stirs the very soul. I will humbly mention here the names of Baba Farid, Shah Hussain, Sultan Bahu, Waris Shah, Ghulam Farid and Muhammad Baksh. I regret missing some important worthy poets, given the limitations of space.

Whereas the Persians have expressed themselves in philosophical treatises, Bulleh Shah's poetry is uncomplicated and accessible to the unlettered mind

One concept that has been described in Punjabi Sufi poetry in an unparalleled way is Wahdat-ul-Wujood or 'Unity of Existence'. This creed has certainly been described in other languages, by other poets as well, but the way Punjabi poets have dilated on its many aspects is not found anywhere else in literature. I will cite the immortal poem by Ghulam Farid on the subject.

This composition titled ‘Menda ishq vi tuun, menda yaar vi tuun’ is a remarkable characterisation of the concept of Wahdat-ul-Wujood. Every line of this poem is addressed to the Beloved – that in Sufi parlance is the Creator himself. Ghulam Farid starts the poem quite simply by affirming his Beloved as his love and friend. He then goes on to enumerate every facet of personnel, public, social and religious life that a human being can possibly live through and assigning them to his Beloved. He uses words such as faith, belief, body, spirit, Kaa’ba, mosque, the Holy Book, prayers, piety and he lists 116 such attributes. The poem thus becomes epitome and the most comprehensive exposition of the scope of Wahdat-ul-Wujood in any language of the world.

Ghalib, too, has alluded to this Unity in his verse,

‘When there was nothing, there was God,

Had there been nothing, there would have been a God.

My existence has degraded me,

Had I not been, what would I have been?’

There have been other Punjabi poets, too, who have found the universe a shadow or reflection of the Almighty. Bulleh Shah finds his lover indiscernible from the ultimate Beloved in the proclamation by his Heer that,

‘Wailing for my love for long, I have become my beloved.

I do not recognize myself anymore; address me by his/her name.’

However, the comprehensive way in which Ghulam Farid has captured this scheme in his verses is startling and hammers the unsuspecting mind to submission with ceaseless irruption of a forceful barrage of ‘you’. The fact that the poem has been rendered in music by the relentless voice and boisterous melody of Pathanay Khan, where each verse seeps through one’s soul, has added to its immortality.

As for being comprehensive, the depiction of Heer by Waris Shah is exhaustive and leaves nothing to imagination. In his magnum opus Heer, at the very beginning, Waris Shah wonders if it is within the power of the pen to describe the beauty of Heer and then goes on to attempt the same by praising each and every part of her body. He starts with her forehead and travels through to her feet, describing her beauty in a way that the reader feels the words transforming in to a visual image. The onslaught of similes and metaphors continues for twenty-nine lines. Uniquely, Punjabi has this unique assemblage of verses to describe the physical beauty of the beloved that is unrivalled in the literary heritage of any other language.

It is certainly the Sikhs who have not only given a fresh life to Bulleh Shah but have internationalised his message of peace, inclusiveness and coexistence

It is pertinent to note that Waris Shah’s life span, 1722-98, overlaps with that of the great Urdu poet Mir Taqi Mir, 1723-1810. It is evident that at the time of writing of Heer, Urdu was in a fairly developed state but it lacked a medium to produce this kind of poetry. Later, Mir Anis and Mirza Dabeer would indulge in graphic descriptions of the battlefield, equipment, events and environment of Karbala, but the physical beauty of the beloved would elude them too.

Bulleh Shah (1680-1757) is as universal in his appeal as Rumi or Hafez. They all have exposed religious hypocrisy. Whereas the Persians have expressed themselves in philosophical treatises, Bulleh Shah’s poetry is uncomplicated and accessible to the unlettered mind. This simplicity has kept his poetry alive and popular even two-and-a-half centuries after his death.

Bulleh Shah’s Punjab was a strife ridden and troubled land. He was born at a time when Emperor Aurangzeb had lost hold over Kabul and Peshawar and Sikh warrior bands had become resurgent in Punjab. The Emperor was more worried about his exposed underbelly in Central India due to the uprising of Marathas. Punjab was slowly passing in to the hands of warring and plundering bands. The local Muslims, who never had any power anyway during the Mughal rule, were now reduced to the mercy of avenging Sikh bands.

Bulleh Shah sought refuge in forsaking worldly gains and finding common ground with humanity. His poetry cuts across sectarian, religious lines and illuminates the basic values of humanity. That is the reason for his continued popularity amongst Punjabis across the 1947 division line. As many Sikhs – or maybe more – recite his humane message in folk music as Pakistani Muslims. It is certainly the Sikhs who have not only given a fresh life to this poet but have internationalised his message of peace, inclusiveness and coexistence.

Bulleh Shah preached negation of the Self at a time of self-centeredness, conceit and diffidence.

In his “Bulleya ki jaan’an mein kon?” (Oh Bulleh Shah, who am I?), he proclaims a rejection of individuality. The message is affirmed by him when he says: “Bulleh Shah! Only those will find the Truth who negate their Self.” For him, self-centred thinking and ego are a barrier between an individual and the Creator. This message resonates with the one given by Rumi and Shah Shams Tabriz.

Bulleh Shah says:

Na kar bandeya meri meri

Na teri na meri

Chaar din’an da mela dunya,

Feyr mitti de dheri,

(Don’t say ‘mine, mine’,
[Worldly gains] are neither yours nor mine

This life is short,

Followed by being a heap of dust,”)

In saying so, he asserts the familiar Sufi message of the ephemeral nature of this world. This message is repeated in his “Heeray sastay vikde wekhay”: “I have witnessed diamonds selling cheap”. He describes a sombre universal truth of the high, the mighty and the beautiful biting the dust with inevitable changes of circumstances.

Another name I like to mention in such a context is that of Shah Hussain (1538-99) who is the earliest of recorded Punjabi poets and lived at a time of tranquillity when Sher Shah Suri and then Akbar the Great were in complete control of the northern Subcontinent. Therefore, the distress in his words is more personal or philosophical and not nearly as much environmental or social. His most poignant and much recited poem “Maey ni kin’un aakhaan?” (“Oh mother! Who shall I confide in?”)  unravels an agony that transcends the soul, where the sufferer finds no refuge. His reference in the poem to the discomfiture of kings is particularly powerful since he lived his entire mature life during the rule of one great ruler, the Emperor Akbar.

Shah Hussain has expressed his quest for his love in his beseeching words:

“My desire is to go the abode of my beloved Ranjha

Let someone show me the way”

In the end, having failed in his quest, he declares that his beloved was always with him, in his heart. The message echoes the one given by Bulleh Shah in his discovery that

In seeking my Ranjha,

I have transformed into him’.

This again is typical Sufi doctrine where complete unification with the Beloved is not a transitory state but the objective itself.

The last of these poets was Mian Muhammad Bakhsh (1830-1907) from Mirpur, Kashmir. His Saif-ul-Malook, a romantic tragedy – one does wonder why all romantic tales have to be tragic? – is popular with folk singers and is in line with other great stories composed across the globe at various times. Mian Bakhsh’s message is quintessentially mystical in nature – preaching love, the transitory nature of life and inclusiveness. Some of his couplets are evergreen. Consider for example:

“Neither the nightingale sings forever,

nor does the spring last forever

Parents, youth and beauty are transitory

and the company of friends is bound to terminate.”

And then there is the everlasting warning from this great poet: ,

“Do not rejoice on the passing away of an enemy,

Your loved ones shall also perish.”

The field of creativity is not void completely in the modern era. There has been Khawaja Pervez, who wrote great poetry like “Akhiaan udeek-dian” (My eyes are waiting) and – my personal favourite – “Umraan langiaan pabaan paar” (‘My life has been spent on tiptoes)’ by Mazhar Tirmazi are fine examples of ecstatic poetry. Then there have been Ustad Daman, Ahmed Rahi, Anwar Masood and other great names. Amarta Preetam’s “Aj aakhan Waris Shah nun” (Today I beseech Waris Shah) is an everlasting gem, which conveys a pain that will never be mitigated, and it is possible that a reader in the distant future will feel the horror of the Partition of Punjab in 1947 – not as much by reading history but by recital of this poem. Yet the greatest names from Punjab in poetry, i.e. Iqbal, Faiz, and Gulzar, chose to write in Urdu, leaving the field of poetry of their mother tongue barren. In the current times, there is not one name that can be quoted as a significant Punjabi poet.

The malaise may be deeper. When a nation goes down the path of decay, the process is irreversible. Malignancy initially manifests in one or two aspects of social life but invariably spreads to other walk of life, leaving the society too weak to find creative and bold responses. The society is then on a certain path to a slow painful dissolution. The Greeks, the Romans, the Abbasids, the Ottomans, the Qing dynasty and so many others went through this terrible path to oblivion.

There are unmistakable signs of decay in our society too. A breakdown of law and order, a dissolution of values and traditions, and the failure of institutions and organizations are some of the obvious signs of this downward slide. And the Punjabi language is one of the first victims of this decay.

Language lives by usage. It is the main element of a culture and defines a people. Every mother tongue has its children, who nourish the language by speaking and writing it, and propagating it to other cultures. We, the speakers of the Punjabi language in Pakistan, with some notable exceptions, have developed a strange loathing and alienation for our mother tongue and this neglect forestalls the emergence of any great Punjabi poet in the future. The only ray of hope is that its great poetry shall continue to find favour with singers and composers.

Education has driven Punjabi speakers to Urdu. Certainly, the language has not been adopted for science; a fact that relegates it to a lower status but the same is true for Urdu and Hindi – whose adoption for this purpose is cosmetic rather than meaningful. The only avenue where the language sill survives is in the Sikh community, whose religious language is Punjabi and who continue to use it at home and for sport commentary.

Sadly, the children and grand children of the people of my generation – my own included – feel no affiliation with the language. That is the tragedy.

Parvez Mahmood retired as a Group Captain from PAF and is now a software engineer. He lives in Islamabad and writes on social and historical issues. He may be reached at parvezmahmood53@gmail.com