Ali Sardar Jafri’s long poem Karbala – recited by him – is available in the public domain. I have chosen to translate one of his poems called “Guftagu Band Na Ho” (Let Not the Conversation Cease), speaking of the possibilities of more harmonious Indo-Pak relations.
Before sharing my translation of this poem, just to give readers a taste of the Urdu idiom, I want to share the opening stanza of the poem, which is also how the poem closes:
“Guftagu band na ho
Baat se baat chale
Subh tak shaam-e-mulaaqaat chale
Hum pe hansti hui ye taaron bhari raat chale”
“Let not the conversation cease
Let one word lead to another
And let our evening tryst go on till dawn
While the starry night-sky smiles down on us
Though we have hurled the stones of bitter words at each other
We have swirled poison in our goblets in the form of sarcastic jibes
Our brows furrowed, our gazes venomous
But be that as it may, let hearts awaken in chests
Let not despair imprison our words
Whoever the murderers are, let them not kill dialogue
If that is done, a word of faith may escape at dawn
Love will arrive on trembling legs
Eyes downcast, hearts aflutter, lips atremble
Silence will then be fragrant like a kiss on the lips
And the only sound left will be that of buds flowering
And then there will be need for neither word nor talk
In the movement of the gaze, an emotion will sprout
Tenderness will be our guest, hate will be asked to leave
Hand in hand, accompanied by the whole world
Bearing the gift of pain, and the bounty of fondness
We will cross the deserts of animus
And find ourselves on the other side of oceans of blood
Let not the conversation cease
Let one word lead to another
And let our evening tryst go on till dawn
While the starry night-sky smiles down on us
The personality of Jafri was indeed very controversial and so it should be – because the practice of the minstrel of revolution was not to gain the favour of everybody but to tell the truth
Another poem is rather longer, “Avadh ki Khaak-e-Haseen” (The Beautiful Land of Avadh). This is a beautiful exemplar of Jafri’s Progressive poetry, which turned labour into romance and ordinary folk into protagonists. In Urdu it begins thus:
“Ye seedhe saadhe ghareeb insan, nekiyon ke mujassame hain
Ye mehnaton ke khuda, ye takhleeq ke payambar
Jo apne haathon ke khurdarepan se aindagi ko sanvaarte hain
Lohaar ke ghan ke neeche lohe ki shakl tabdeel ho rahi hai”
A longer excerpt of the poem follows in English translation below:
“These simple poor folk are the epitome of goodness
These gods of labour, these prophets of creation
Who make life beautiful with their calloused hands
Under the blacksmith’s anvil, iron is changing shape
The potter’s wheel hums
And goblets dance to its beat
The white flour emerges from the black millstone like a musical note
Flowers of fire bloom in stoves and ovens
Cooking utensils sing along
Skillets black with smoke laugh with lips made of sparks
Dupattas hang on ropes
And from their borders, a row of drops falls to the ground
On the hearts of these golden streets
The red borders of black long skirts shine on
How beautiful is this simplicity!
I sit in my prison cell and often wonder
That if I could I would take the beautiful earth of my Avadh in my lap
And light up its beautiful, shimmering forehead
With thousands of kisses.”
Baba-e-Urdu Maulvi Abdul Haq used to say “Be wary of that person who is praised by all or who agrees with everyone.” One remembers this while thinking that over his long life, Jafri’s ill-wishers often accused him of being very arrogant or inflexible; or that after his death he is not remembered in the same way as some of his more ‘humble’ and ‘flexible’ peers.
The personality of Jafri was indeed very controversial and so it should be – because the practice of the minstrel of revolution was not to gain the favour of everybody but to tell the truth. Many circles had a great hatred for the human values and life-giving forces with which Sardar had loyalty and association. They thought that a poet should neither have a life ideal nor should their feelings and emotions have any business with the sorrows and joys, hopes and wishes of the wretched of the earth. But this very exercise of truth and purity, sincerity of ecstasy and knowledge of perception and awareness was the life of Sardar Jafri’s art.
He could not but commit suicide if he was to calm the heart of the worshippers of tyranny. His art was the reflection of his fighting philosophy of life and the voice of his conscience. He always recited verses on the battlefield rather than seek gratification.
However, those who were lucky enough to know him personally would testify that if Sardar was hard like steel on the battlefield of existence, then he was even softer and gentler than silk at the banquet of beauty and love.
All translations from Urdu are by the author. Raza Naeem is a Pakistani social scientist, book critic and award-winning translator and dramatic reader currently based in Lahore, where he is also the President of the Progressive Writers Association. He can be reached at: razanaeem@hotmail.com
