By Shabir Sarwar Malik
PSALMS OF PEACE – I
Sahir is the iconic romantic literary poet known for his sensitivity towards human suffering and his unceasing optimism for a better tomorrow. His intense anti-war poem, parchhayiyaan, visualised apparently by two ordinary lovers,bringing reminiscences of the prime period of the poet & his beloved’s (‘where journey of our love commenced’ ); probably conceived by Sahir around 1944-45AD, connects the reader’s heart, rhythmically,and concludes on a covenant for peaceful resolution. This poem comes to one’s mind whenever clouds of devastating wars thunder anywhere on this globe. Since it is a very long poem, and space in newspapers cannot afford rendition in entirety, a carefully selected portion is attempted herein for giving readers an overall feel of this great Urdu poem but please read the original poem of Abul Hai Sahir Ludhyanvi.
To say and to listen Something
With silent lips,
And fast throbbing hearts
To say the little prayers in stolen moments
Once again two youthful lovers have come beneath the trees
But suddenly the heavy sound of boots
Raps from that end of the field
And the breeze brings the smell of gunpowder
Soft whirl of the spinning wheel gets drowned under the sounds of military bands
Village after village grew sad when young -conscripts left homes
Many sons and brothers will never return
Soaring prices, famishing famines, distressed homes
Sale of fields, flesh trade, naked bodies, tousled hair and deserted pathways
That is what the political oppressors offered
My bleeding heart reddened the horizon
Beneath which the capitalist system put
Two innocent souls up for sale
Forcing them to dream of each other
While seated in aliens lap
Helplessly paying the price of living
-that is either disgrace or gallows,
Living on pyres, their garbs and even dreams are burning
Today once again when clouds of war are visible
Two images have once again come under the shadow of trees
And I am wondering whether
their glowing dreams will
Come to have the same fate.
We were made to die endlessly
But we wish these lovers melodious life
Let our wounds speak, let us rise and tell these political players
That we hate these war-games
Let us rise and tell these war mongers
Our blood is the sacred trust for the new generation
If we fail to speak our land our sky will not be safe
The madness of the atom will not only burn our forms and figures but our shadows too.//
PSALM OF PEACE – II
Humming the verses of Sahir’s poem for rechecking the translation attempted, yesterday, while strolling in wee hours, I sensed anti-war words of an impressive voice deserve to be offered to readers, in the shape of appetizer:
“ Subeh subeh ik khuwab ki dastak per darwazah khola
….. sarhad per kal raat sunna hai chali thi goli//
sarhad per kal raat sunna hai kuchh khuwaboon ka khoon hova hai”;
PARCHHAIYAAN, of Ab. Hai Sahir Ludhyanvi (1921-1980), is the great, inimitable, heart renting and soul-churning anti-war Urdu poem that appeals head and heart. I dedicate it’s rendition to all innocent non- combatant lives and irretrievable beautiful moments of life we lost in the turmoil period here. Let us raise our hands in supplication with Faiz:
Jin ka deen pairiveeye kufr-o-riya hai, unko//
Himmat-e-kufr milay, jurrat-e-tehqeeq milay//
Jin kay ser montizir-e-taigh-e-jafa hain unko,//
Dast-e-qatil ko jhatak daynay ki toufeeq milay.//
Aiyay haath othayen hum be…//
Now here are the remaining verses of Parchhaiyaan:
Winds heavy with gunpowder-smell blow from west//
Subversive clouds obscure the peaceful face of weal//
Images past are coming to life.
I still remember that evening- besmeared with blood of Sun//
I still remember the fate of love; the golden dreams//
That eve I came to know even the identity of two innocent souls,//
Is put to sale in this opulent (capitalistic) system (by dice players).//
Images past are coming to life.
Miles away somewhere in solitude or mirthful gathering//
Weaving my dreams you sit in stranger’s lap//
The price we pay for living in present time is,//
Gallows or miserable ignominy, nothing less, my love//
You couldn’t struggle till end and I didn’t make to gallows//
Wished and desired but estranged we remained.//
Images past are coming to life.
Mantle of dreams burns in the wasteland of harsh realities.//
And today when beneath these trees once again//
Two dusky images flutter; two hearts have come to meet//
I am wording my wish: the blood smeared evening, //
Should not be their fate. (Look! Clouds of war loom again.)//
I haven’t forgotten what the fate of our golden dreams was//
Ignominy and vain struggle was in store for us//
May these two get the singing dancing life.//
Images past are coming to life.
For long it has been the pastime of politics: //
Children who reach prime should be butchered.//
Come, let us tell the political Shatranj (chess) players//
That we hate the custom of battle contests//
That we hate the very attire of life, //
That finds no colour suitable except that of blood.//
Images past are coming to life.
Our blood is the trust of new generation.//
Now onwards these exploiting vampires, //
Can’t be fed on OUR blood.//
Can’t be fed on OUR blood.//
Images past are coming to life.
Images past are coming to life.
Tasavuraat ki parchhaiyaan ubherti hain //
Parting words 🙁 Glean before I say adieu)
… Khoon apna ho ya paraya ho//
Nasle aadam ka khoon hai aakhir//
Jung mashriq main ho ki magrib main//
Amann-e-aalam ka khoon hai aakhir///
Woh layain apnay siyah irraday//
Hum apnay dil ki umang layain//
Hum apnay loh-o-qalam nikalain,//
Woh apnay tayg-o-tofang layain //
Ik aur naye tadbeer sahi,//
Ik aur naye taqdeer sahi//
Ik shoukh-o-haseen khauwab aur sahi//
Ik shoukh-o-haseen tabeer sahi.//
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