Wednesday, June 26, 2013

SOME EMINENT PERSONS REMEMBER PROGRESSIVE URDU POET ALI SARDAR JAFRI

( Ali sardar jafri 1913-2000)   


    

 Me Jahaan Tum Ko Bulaataa Huun Vahaan Tak Aao
Meri Nazaron Se Guzar Kar Dil-O-Jaan Tak Aao
Phir Ye Dekho Ki Zamaane Ki Havaa Hai Kaisee
Saath Mere Mere Firdaus-E-Javaan Tak Aao
Phuul Ke Gird Phiro Baag Mein Maanind-e-Naseem
Misl-e-Paravaanaa Kisi Sham-E-Tapaan Tak Aao
Lo Vo Sadiyon Ke Jahannum Ki Hadein Khatm Huyee
Ab Hai Firdaus Hi Firdaus Jahaan Tak Aao
Chhod Kar Vaham-O-Gumaan Husn-E-Yahqeen Tak Pahuncho
Par Yaqeen Se Bhi Kabhi Vaham-O-Gumaan Tak Aao


( ( Ali sardar Jafri ) )

..  (MEMBERS OF COMMUNIST PARTY  AND PROGRESSIVE WRITERS  ALI SARDAR JAFRI, CHITTOPRASDA AND KALPANA JOSHI IN BOMBAY.)
( Sardar with urdu poet Bekal Utsaahi . Both belong to Balrampur  )

 ((Prof. Zakia A. Siddiqi, Principal of Women's College Aligarh Receiving Poet Ali Sardar Jafri .In his address to girls and teachers , Sardar impressed upon social workers , leaders and and teachers to ensure 100% education of girls . “ Educating a girl is more important than educating a boy because today’s girl is tomorrow’s mother .  And in  a family , the child receives his first education from his mother only. So the mother has to be well informed and educated . This alone shall bring them out of Age old Darkness and ignorance.” He added )
( Sardar with his two sisters )
( Sardar at BBC London )

                                                                               
                                                          ( With Sibte Hassan )
(Sardar receiving an award from Indira Gandhi in 1965 )
( Happy Moments  Sardar ,Sultana and noted urdu writer Rajinder Singh Bedi )
                                                                               
( salma sidique , Dharmveer Bharti, Pushpa Bharti , Sardar and A member of Russian Cultural Delegation )
                                                                            
(sardar with Ismat Chugtai In a function )

(Naushad Ali ,Sardar jafri , Majrooh and kaifi Azmi )

                   ( Youthful Days .. Majrooh , Sardar jafri, kaifi Azmi and Ismat Chugtai In Hyderbad     )
                                                                                     
                                           ( Sardar Jafri  In a Mushiara   Held At New Delhi )
 
                                                                                    
                                                                               
( Dr Mulkh Raj Anand )

( Shabana and Javed Akhtar )
                                                                            
( Eminent Kathak dancer Shovana Narayan )
                                                                         
( Noted Writer and journalist Sardar Khushwant singh )

(1)
ATAL BIHARI VAJPAYEE FORMER PRIME MINISTER 

I remember Atal Bihari Vajpayee saying about sardar  jafri

 “ One may disagree with his political beliefs but none can overlook  the vision that this man has for the Humanity "  
 Vajpayee made the historic peace trip to Pakistan where  he  presented   SARHAD the first-ever album of anti-war poems of Sardar Jafri (sung by Seema Anil Sehgal) to his Pakistani counterpart. This was indeed the greatest tribute to the poetic vision of Sardar. Vajpayee has been  a personal friend and an admirer of Sardar .

On this initiative from Vajpayee  Leading Newspapers wrote

“Where politics had failed, poetics triumphed ”

“ Tum Aao Gulshan e Lahore se chaman Bardosh

Hum Aayein Subh e Benaras Ki Roshinin Le kar

Himalaya ke hawaaon Ki Taazigi Le kar

Aur oss ke baad Yeh Poochein Ki Kaun Dushaman Hai ..”

( Ali Sardar jafri )



(You Bring us flowers from the Garden of Lahore

We bring the Dawn of Benaras for you ,

We bring the fresh Himalayan breeze for you,

Then let us sit down and ask each other  ,

“Who Is the enemy Now ? )
(2)

FORMER PRIME MINISTER SHRI I K GUJRAL

 “I met him in Lucknow university through sultana . I kept track of him through sutana who had joined Lahore radio station in 1944 . she was transferred to Bombay possibly in 1946.
Sardar was a true nationalist ,a tall thinker and protagonist of composite culture of India .His sympathy for the poor and marginalized was beyond belief .This is evident in his writing as well.

Hum Kahaan Jhaayein kahein kis se ki Nadaar Hain Hum,
Kis ko samjhaayein Ghulami ke Gunehgaar hain Hum
( Where do we go ?To whom should we tell that we are poor ?
And to whom should we explain that we are guilty of Bondage. )

Since I was also associated with the communist movement , I initially shifted to Mumbai after the partition of the country . Here I renewed my contacts with Sardar and other progressive writers like Bedi , krishen chander , Kaifi and sahir.
Later when I was country’s ambassador in Moscow, I had the privilege of hosting many dinners and receiving many Indian delegations of Writers from the country . Sardar and Sultana would also come . Sardar ‘s Charismatic presence was liked by many writers from communist countries . Many Russian Poets sought translation of his poems . Babajan a scholar from Tajikstan even set up an Asian Studies centre in Russia and sought Sardar's help. Academician Asimov became Sardar ’s friend . He had a deep study of Russian poet Mayakovsky and the American poet Walt Whitman .In fact he brought Urdu much closer to Hindi by associating with leading Hindi writers of his time..His work on kabir and Mirabai is unmatched to this day .
One quality with sardar was that he never told you of his financial difficulties . He never asked for a personal favour . He was never after money or material things . A good company of friends , a heart full of compassion for the poor ,love for children, optimism, humanism and strong belief in Indo Pak Peace were some traits of his impressive personality.
In the year 2000, I and my wife went to see him in Bombay hospital where he lay terminally ill with a brain Tumour . His eyes were open and looking far behind. He could not talk . Sultana’s gentle nudging could not make him to look at us . He was possibly thinking of returning to this country again . Returning to its seasons , rivers , lakes , flowers and chirping birds .I and my wife knew how much he loved this country .

But, I'll come here again,
Speak through children's voices,
Sing in the call of birds.
When seeds smile under the earth,
And seedlings, with their nimble fingers
Caress the layers of soil,

I'll open my eyes
Through every bud,
On my green palm,
I'll balance the droplets of dew.
I'll become the glow of cheeks,
The beat of melodies.
Like the blush of a modest bride,
I'll sparkle through every veil.
When the wintry winds blow
And the autumn leaves fall,
Under the lively feet of travelers,
My laughter will sound
In the crunching of dry leaves.
( Ali Sardar jafri )

(3)
IRFAN AHMED

“ Sardar was a rebel, freedom fighter, pacifist, radical activist, storywriter, critic and documentary filmmaker at once. But, above all, he was a poet endowed with exquisite imagination, one of the brightest stars on the firmament of twentieth-century Urdu poetry. Like all great poets he was a prophet engaged in unraveling the mysteries and ambiguity of human drama. The principal theme of his poetry was compassion, love, perseverance and sensitivity surviving amidst the callous inhumanity of our times. In his unique style he depicted the exemplary survival of the human spirit in the face of all-pervasive adversity and defeatism. In so doing he not only carried forward the traditions of Urdu poetry but also enriched its treasure with new symbols and powerful imagery. Indeed, his poetry gradually evolved into a genre of its own kind whose influence is difficult to ignore among the present generation of Urdu poets. Some of the poems really enthralled the hearts and minds of all and sundry and transcended the dry logic of political economy.
This blood, the fragrance of lips;
this blood, the light of eyes;
this blood, the color of the cheek;
this loo, the peace of the heart;
sun of Mount Faran and Light of Sina and Tur;
flame of the word of truth, pain of a restless soul;
the light of the word of God, the expression of Light Divine;
This blood, my blood, thy blood, everybody’s blood.
(“Yeh  Lahu”)

(From In Memoriam Ali Sardar Jafri ..A write up by  Irfan Ahmed .Gratefully reproduced .)


(4 )

SULTANA JAFRI  WIFE OF ALI SARDAR JAFRI 

Har Aashiq hai sardar yahaan 
Har Mashooqa Sultana Hai 

( Ali Sardar jafri )


“ Sardar and I met for the first time in Lucknow university in 1939. I was doing my MA in political science and sardar was studying English literature .In 1944 I joined AIR Lahore and Kartar Singh Duggal was my colleague over there . Later he married my sister Ayesha and became our close relative.
Sardar had many friends but he was very close to Krishen Chander . There was a perfect rapport between the two..I have spent 52 years with Sardar and his circle included Faiz , I K Gujral,Rajinder Singh Bedi , Mukh Raj Anand , Kaifi , Dilip Kumar , ramanand sagar , Jaan Nissar Akhtar, Sahir, Majrooh , K A Abbas ,Ismat Chugtai , Qurratulain Hyder and Many more .His two unmarried sisters stayed with us . sardar looked after them most affectionately.Today grown up children dread the thought of living with their parents leave alone taking care of them. Sardar hardly owned anything . Both of us never bought material things even if we had money. It was a state of mind and a conviction .many a time children asked us why we did not have a car .We lived in rented accommodation for many years and kept on shifting from one house to another . Finally Sardar raised some loans from friends and bought a small flat for Rs52000/- in 1967. Sardar smoked endlessly but in 1968 he suffered from angina and stopped smoking altogether . He did not give up his drinks .

On january 30, 1948 sardar and I rode the local bus and went to the office of registrar of marriages . Sardar the bridegroom had three rupees in his pocket .Krishen chander K A Abbas and Ismat Chugtai were witness to our civil marriage .Later Ismat celeberated the occasion and took us out for ice cream.
After the marriage we lived in Andheri commune . Kaifi and shaukat were already living there .Sardar was an incorrigible optimist . Inspired by Rumi’s lines Hamcho sabza Baarha Roeeda Aayam ( like the green of the earth , we never stop growing ), he summed up the story of his life in his poem MERA SAFAR .

Aur neeli fazaa ki makhmal par
hansti hui heerey ki yeh kani
yeh meri jannat, meri zameen
iss ki subhein, iss ki shaamein
bey jaaney huey, bey samjhay huey
ik musht ghubaar-e-insaan par
shabnam ki tarah ro jaayangi
har cheez bhula di jaayegi
yaadon key haseen but khaaney sey
har cheez uthaa di jaayegi
phir koi nahin yeh puchhega
SARDAR kahaan hai mehfil mein
lekin mein yahaan phir aaoonga
bachchon key dahan sey boloonga
chirhyon ki zabaan sey gaaonga
aur saraa zamaanah dekhegaa
har qissah mera afsaanah hai
har aashiq hai sardaar yahaan
har maashooqan sultanaah hai

On the blue velvet of space
that luminous crystal of diamond,
and these—my heaven and earth,
the nights and the mornings all
without knowing, without understanding
on the human handful of dust.
will shed tears of dew
Every cherished thing will go, plucked
from memory’s fine pagan shrine.
And then no friend will ask a friend:
“Why don’t we see Sardar today?”
Yet I will return here once again
to speak out of the mouths of babies,
to warble with the tongues of birds.
The world will see under my star
every tale become my story,
where every lover is Sardar
and every love is my Sultana.
( Ali Sardar jafri )

He never possessed or wore black garment .Though he was deep in Marxism , he would often tell children “God Bless You ”. He had simple eating habbits . He enjoyed Arhar Daal , Pulaav and kebabs.
A child begging in streets moved Sardar to tears . Whatever change or small notes he had in his pocket , he would offer to this child. *Nazim was born during the days when Sardar was arrested and kept in a jail for being a communist . He was sent to Nashik Jail . I would go to the jail with little Nazim in my lap and a bagful of cigarettes for him.And then on Idd day Sardar was released and he knocked at the door . Sardar held me in embrace . Little Nazim gazed at the stranger who had the Audacity to hold his mother in embrace .Sardar hugged and kissed his son for the first time .That Idd has remained most memorable in my life.”



 (5)

ACTRESS AND SOCIAL ACTIVIST SHABAN AZMI

“He gave me my name shabana . My grand father had suggested kaneez Fatima . And now I believe my name has shaped my life. For this I am thankful to Sardar jafri only.
we lived in Khetwadi commune and each family had just one room . By each family I mean sudhir joshi , sawant , My father kaifi Azmi , sardar jafri . The strip of balcony attached to the room was converted to a kitchen by each family. We shared common Toilets .The residents had a common drawing Room called Red Hall which was used for party Meetings .His son Nazim had coined the word Doda for sardar as he could not pronounce Dady . So we also called sardar Uncle as Doda .children were his weakness . He always played with children and devoted his time to them.
He always looked elegant in his clothes . It could be a two piece suit or a kurta Pyjama .And the fingers that he ran stylishly through his long hair attracted attention.
He was 84 years old when his younger sister died . Her death shattered him. I have yet to see a brother so affectionate as sardar . He used to take Taxi to hospital everyday to see that his sister ate home made food. He was a real human being much above narrow caste or religion divide .
Another aspect of Sardar Jafri’s personality that deserves mention is his intellect and stature as a charismatic personality. He had a presence, which commanded respect and admiration. He was perhaps one of the most learned men of our times.”
Ghareeb Sita ke ghar pe kab tak rahegi Ravan ki hukmrani
Draupadi ka libas uske badan se kab tak chhina karega
Shakuntala kab tak andhi taqdeer ke bhanwar mein phansi rahegi
Yeh Lukhnow ki shiguftagi maqbaron mein kab tak dabi rahegi
( Ali Sardar Jafri )

(How long will Ravan rule over the home of poor Sita
How long will Draupadi be deprived of her garment
How long will Shakuntala be enmeshed in the abyss of fate
How long will the freshness of Lucknow remain buried under the imposing tombs?)
(from Awadh ki Khak-i-Haseen )

(6)
 DR. MULKH RAJ ANAND  NOTED ENGLISH WRITER 

“Sardar You have accomplished the purpose for which I write. This poem Asia Jaag Uthaa or Asia Awakens  is an expansion of Iqbal’s Message as conveyed in Payaam e Mashriq. The poem has been written with ink of your Heart’s blood. What a beautiful hope you have put up for life against death in our time? ”
(Asia Awakens)

This is the soil of Asia,
The womb of civilisation,
The land of culture.
It was here that
The sun opened its eyes.
It was here that
The first dawn of humanity
Unveiled its beauty.
It was here that
Ancient ages lighted
Their lamps of science and wisdom.
It was from this height that
The Vedas sang their happy songs.
From here did the Buddha
Teach the lesson of equality.
From here did Mazdak
Sing the songs of love and justice.
The winds of our history
Have heard the words of the Christ.
Our sun has shone
On the head of Mohammed.
This is the soil
Which has borne
The sheaves of grain;
It is as ancient
As the story of mankind;
It is as majestic
As the tall peaks of Himalayas;
It is as beautiful
As the nymphs of Ajanta
It is as generous
As the kind waters
Of the Ganges and the Nile;
This fertile lap is filled
With children and flowers.

Our heritage extends
From Mohenjo Daro
To the great wall of China,
Our history, from the Taj
To the pyramids of Giza,
Our treasures, from Babylon
To Nineveh.
Since our childhood,
Eloquence has kissed our lips,
And poetry sung lullabies to us.
Our tongues have learnt
The Vedas, Gospels and the Quran.
Our imagination has already touched
Those soaring heights, where shine
The suns of Firdausi and Saadi,
Nizami, Khayyam and Hafiz;
The heights, where hold sway
Valmkik, the revered Tulsi,
Kabeer and Surdas;
The heights, where resound
The lute of Iqbal,
The songs of Tagore.
***

This is the soil of Asia,
The womb of civilisation,
The land of culture,
Her peasant, a wooden plough
In his aged hands;
Her poor workers
With burning, tired eyes;
Ships, sailors, songs, storms,
Potters, blacksmiths,
Milkmaids bathed in milk;
Old story tellers,
Sitting round a fire;
Innocent faces of little children
Safe in their mothers' laps;
Fields of ripe crops,
Cows and buffaloes;
Tinkling of glass bangles
In green fields;
Dreary deserts,
Silent and profound like prophets;
Flowing tresses of date palms;
Pomegranate flowers, mango blossoms;
Granaries, heaps of cow-dung cakes;
Dancing virgins of winding pathways.

Long and lovely rivers
Kissing with their waves
The tremblings lips of their banks;
Gentle waterfalls
At the slender waists
Of beauteous bridal valleys;
Blue bowls in mountain palms;
Stars reflecting in lake mirrors;
Loving arms
Of the Ganges and Jamuna
Round the neck
Of the Himalayas;
The shawl of blue ice
On the head of mountain storms.

This is Asia,
Young, fresh, and fertile,
Whose poor, penniless children,
Bute at the poisonous snake of hunger;
Their lips never tasted milk
After leavings their mothers' breasts;
Their tongues have never tasted
The bread of wheat;
Their backs have never felt
The touch of clean, white cloth;
Their hands have never held a book;
Their feet know nothing
Of shoes and slippers;
Their heads are strangers
To the soft delight of a pillow;
They regard their hunger
As their food:
These unique creatures
Will be found only
In the Paradise of Asia;
Still 'animals'
Even after three centuries
Of imperial 'civilisation.'

Where are you,
You bearers of the torch of 'culture'?
Come and see
The sideshow of your 'culture.'
***

Nowhere else will you see
Such pitiful faces.
Every corner of this earth,
You have filled with
Your regal memorials.
Here, you have reared
An arch of victory,
There, pillars of your arrogance;
Here, you have cast
Horses of bronze,
There, statues of stone:
But they do not represent
Your culture and civilisation.
Call your sculptors and painters,
To adorn your museums
With these pitiful faces,
As the lasting memorial
To your mighty deeds.
***

Now, in Asia we have
A forest of hands,
Fists of white marble,
Of dark granite.
O bride of the dawn of spring,
We are waiting to adorn you with
A fistful of twilight's vermilion,
Flowers of moon and stars,
Rouge of red sunbeams.
( Ali Sardar Jafri )
(7) 

NOTED WRITER  MUSHIR UL HASSAN 

“ Sardar’s credo rested on a very strong commitment to rationalist thought . He was a champion of diversity .He felt that if individuals are to retain that measure of flexibility and initiative ,which they ought to have ,they must not be forced into one mould ;or, to change metaphor , all drilled into one army. sardar felt that political parties may come and go but INDIA is too precious a civilization entity to be used as a pawn on chessboard of opportunist politics . His vision did not cease even after the collapse of Communism or Socialism.

Sardar was a symbol of our cultural renaissance .His personality was eloquence , refinement and commitment redefined .

He shared the joy of freedom from the British but strongly bemoaned the division of his dear Country .
 love for INDIA was deeply engraved in his heart . When his dear country was in trouble , no cause was greater than fighting for the unity and integrity of his motherland . Sardar Rose like a pillar of strength for the country in protesting against china’s aggression .

Neither Chengiz lives any longer , Nor Timur ,
What has survived are the people .
The youthful waves of the ocean of the time,
Gush and flow from eternity to eternity ,
Ours is a story of Millennia;
For we are invincible , Eternal.
We are the designs and patterns of civilizations,
We are the aspirations of hearts ,
We have been over engaged in struggles ,
We are the sharp swords of history . 


(8)
EMINENT  KATHAK DANCER *SHOVANA NARAYAN  

“ I had heard him reciting his poem MERA SAFAR . I was touched by what Sardar Bhai has conveyed through this poem . And then One day I told him that I want to convey the essence of the poem in Kathak. He felt happy. I am always touched by the opening lines of this poem. All of us have to face it one day .

PHIR IK DIN AISAA AAYEGA
AANKHON KE DIYE BUJH JAAYEINGEY
HAATHON KE KANWAL KUMHLAAYEINGEY
AUR BARG-E-ZABAAN SE
NUTQ-O-SADAA KI HAR TITLI UD JAAYEGI
IK KAALEY SAMANDAR KI TAH MAIN
KALIYON KI TARAH SE KHILTI HUYEE
PHOOLON KI TARAH SE HANSTI HUYEE
SAARI SHAKLEIN KHO JAAYEINGI
KHOON KI GARDISH, DIL KI DHADKAN
SAB RAAGNIYAAN SO JAAYEINGI
( ALI Sardar jafri )

Such a day will arrive again
when the lamps of the eyes will get extinguished;
the lotus of the hands will get withered
and each butterfly of speech and voice
will flee from the leaf of the tongue.
All faces that blossom like buds,
chuckle like flowers,
the circling of blood, the beats of heart,
all such symphonies will go to sleep…

These immortal lines convey his coming to terms with DEATH. These thoughts, I believe keep swirling in every one’s mind . Perhaps it was this very fact that translated itself instinctively as a dancer’s story through the medium of dance for the philosophical depth of the poem had consumed me and haunted me in my dreams for a longtime.
My meetings and discussion with him provided me a glimpse into his inner strength , courage , conviction and the deep sense of commitment to the most important religion of all religions , namely , universal brotherhood. He celebrated Idd, Moharram, Dussera and diwali with same verve.
It was sardar Bhai who introduced me to the wonderful world of Ghalib’s charaag e Dair ; a mind blowing reference to the spirituality of Benaras . To me he was a big brother . Kind and warm hearted person who was always ready for help . A real gifted soul who had a profound knowledge of all types of performing ARTS”

(9)
  EMINENT WRITER AND JOURNALIST SARDAR  KHUSHWANT SINGH

“Ali Sardar also had a phenomenal memory. If I quoted one line of any Urdu poet, he would come out with the rest of the poem. And explain every word by referring to Persian poets - from Rumi, Hafiz to Ghalib and Allama Iqbal. When I set about translating Iqbal's Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa, I went all the way to Bombay to seek his assistance. For two days Ali Sardar and Sultana came to my hotel in the morning; we worked till lunch time when Rafiq Zakaria and his wife Fatma joined us to find out how it was going. After they left, we resumed our labours till it was time for our sundowners.
I saw him often when he came to Delhi to record Kamna Prasad's series, Kahkashaan (Milky Way), on contemporary Urdu poets. And later to participate in the Jashn-e-Bahaar mushairas organised by Kamna to bring Pakistani and Urdu poets together on one stage every year. He presided over the last one a few months before he died. He had an imposing presence: he was a lean, tall man with a mop of untidy, tousled grey hair, sparkling dark eyes and ever-smiling face. His voice held his audience spell-bound. His message to Pakistan at a time when Indo-Pak relations were at their worst was one of peace:

Tum aao gulshan-e-Lahore se chaman bardosh,
Hum aayen subh-e-Banaras ki roshnee le kar
Himalay ki havaaon ki taazgee le kar
Aur iske baad yeh poochein ki kaun dushman hai?
( Ali Sardar Jafri )

(You come from the garden of of Lahore laden with flowers,
We will come bearing the light of a Benares morning
With fresh breezes from Himalayan heights
And then, together we can ask, who is the enemy?)
Ali Sardar was an incorrigible optimist. Inspired by Rumi's line, Hum cho sabza baarha roeeda aym (like the green of the earth we never stop growing), he summed up his life story (Mera Safar) in a few memorable lines:

I am a fleeting moment
In the magic house of days and nights;
I am a restless drop travelling eternally
From the flask of the past to the goblet of the future.
I sleep and wake, awake to sleep again.

(10)
POET AND FILM LYRICIST  JAVED AKHTAR 

He wrote to instill courage , patriotism  and unity amongst the people who had remained divided for ages. He brought new metaphors  by using words like NIVALA, MILL,HAATH ,MACHINE and  BHOOKH . Urdu poetry was taken out from drawing rooms and Bars to fields, factories and workshops . 
Sardar was a personal friend of Paul Robson ( American Actor and singer ), Nazim Hikmet ( Turkish poet )and Pablo Neruda ( Chilean poet and Nobel laureate ).Any one who came close to him was enthused by his towering personality and  his a deep conviction.
Jafri was a strong proponent of permanent peace in south east Asia. He desired , worked for and  supported peace and friendship between India and Pakistan.His poem  Subh e Farda or  “Tomorrow’s Morning  ” powerfully conveys this ideology and commitment  of Sardar .
The morning of Tomorrow
The setting imperial sun
broke into two parts
On this very Border, yesterday.
The dawn of freedom was wounded
On this very Border, yesterday.
This is the Border of blood,
Tears, sights, and sparks,
Where we had sown hatred
And reaped a harvest of swords.

Here, stars struggled
In the eyes of dear ones.
Here, beloved faces
Flickered in streams of tears.
Here, a mother lost her sons,
A brother, his sister.

This border thrives on blood,
Breathes flames of despise
She slithers like a snake
On the bosom of our land.
She comes to the battlefield
Crested with all her weapons

This is the Border of flowers,
Of springs and fanciful colours,
Smiling like a rainbow,
Trailing sinously like a stream,
Swaying senuously like a stream,
On the cheeks of the land,
Perfuming,glittering,
Like the parting in a bride's hair
Which does divide the hair,
But with the sword of vermillion,
The loving finger of sandle-wood.

This is the Border of the beloved,
Of lover and soulds, restless in love.
This is the Border of friends,
of brothers and well-wishers.
Let the sun shine on it
Like a benevolent guard.
Let the stars and moon
Watch over it during night
Let the earth bow
Under the weight of its crops
Let it be raided
By armies of green trees.
Let God protect it
From the eyes of the evil.
Let it remain safe from
the traders in blood.

Let it be trampled
By the steel feet of industry.
Let there be an onslaught
Of the hands of artisans.
Let the flowers of sparks
Fly from the bosom of the rocks
Let tall mountains fold
In the lap of the adze.
Let the thirst of the lips
Mould its own Saki and cups.
As the eyes of the afflicted
Shine with Joy.
Let love be the ruler,
Beauty the murderer
Let the heart be messiah,
The gardens be gutted
By the fire of flowers.
I wish for the day when
Hatred is drainded away with tears.
I wish for the day when,
This Border becomes the kiss of lips.

This is the Border of
The bold courageous martyrs.
This is the Border of
The horsemen of the land of heart.
This is the Border of
The breeze of the gardens
of Lahore and Delhi.
This is the Border of
The heart-warming dreams
Of freedom and peace.
This is the Border of
The roses of love,
Wounded, soaked in blood.

I stand on this Border
Waiting for the morning of tomorrow.
( Ali sardar Jafri )

( Autar Mota 26.06.2013 ... 1.10 AM ... Good Night )

( Source Material   for this write up ....ALI SARDAR JAFRI: THE YOUTHFUL BOATMAN OF JOY,  A Book published by Bharatiya Jnanpith and Edited by Squadron Leader Anil Sehgal and also some  Relevant  Articles from News papers and Magazines. My special Thanks to Squadron Leader Anil Sehgal  for this post .  )
                                                                   
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2 comments:

  1. Thanks for this lively collection that is a must read for all young & old to know the man as the PROFET of tomorrow.
    Ali Nazim Jafri.

    ReplyDelete