“Were the ancient animist really wrong about their beliefs? For a river can exist at the source as well as the mouth. It is omnipresent; just like a god perhaps.”
फ़रेब खाये हुए रंग-ओ-बू के सराब को पूजता रहा हूँ
मगर नताएज की रौशनी में, खुद अपनी मंजिल
पे आ रहा हूँ
जो दिल की गहराईयों में सुबह, ज़ुहूर-ए-आदम से हो रही है
मैं अपनी फितरत की इन ख़ुदा-दाद क़ुव्वतों को जगा रहा हूँ
मैं सांस लेता हूँ हर क़दम पर, की बोझ भारी है ज़िन्दगी का
ठहर ज़रा गर्म-रौ ज़माने, की मैं तेरे साथ आ रहा हूँ
जहाज़रानों को भी तअज्जुब है मेरे इस अज्म-इ-मुतमईन पर
की आधियाँ चल रही हैं तुंड और मैं अपनी कश्ती चला रहा हूँ
तिलिस्म ऐ फितरत भी मुस्कुराता है मेरी अफ्सून तराज़ियों पर
बहुत से जादू जगा चुका हूँ , बहुत से जादू जगा रहा हूँ
ये मेहर-ए-ताबाँ से कोई कह दे की अपनी किरणों को गिन के रख ले
मैं अपने सेहरा के ज़र्रे ज़र्रे को खुद चमकना सीखा रहा हूँ
मिरा तख़य्युल, मिरे इरादे, करेंगे फितरत पे हुक्मरानी
जहां फरिश्तों के पर हैं लर्ज़ां , मैं इस बुलंदी पे जा रहा हूँ
ये नाज़ पर्वरदिगार-ए-साहिल, डरें मेरे से ए गर्म-रौ से
की मैं समंदर की तुंड मौजों को रौंदता पास आ रहा हूँ
~अल्लामा जमील मजहरी
(Allama Jameel Mazhari)
Fareb khaaye huwe raNg-o-boo ke saraab ko poojta raha hooN
Magar nataaij ki roshni men, Khud apni manzil pe aa raha hooN
Jo dil ki gehraaiyyoN men sub’ha, zuhoor-e-Aadam se ho rahi hai
MaiN apni fitrat ki in KHudaa~daad quwwatoN ko jaga raha hooN
MaiN saaNs leta hooN har qadam par, ke bojh bhaari hai ziNdagi ka
Theh’r zara garm~roo zamaane, ke maiN tere saath aa raha hooN
Jahaaz~raanoN ko bhi ta’ajjub hai mere is ‘azm-e-mutmayin par
Ke aaNdhiyaaN chal rahi haiN tuNd aur maiN apni kashti chala raha hooN
Tilism-e-fitrat bhi muskuraata hai meri afsooN~taraaziyoN par
Bahut se jaadu jaga chuka hooN, bahut se jaadu jaga raha hooN
Yeh mehr-e-taabaaN se koi keh de ke apni kirnoN ko gin ke rakh le
MaiN apne sehra ke zarre zarre ko KHud chamakna sikha raha hooN
Mira taKHayyul, mire iraade, kareNge fitrat pe huk’m~raani
JahaaN farishtoN ke par haiN larzaaN, maiN is bulaNdi pe ja raha hooN
Yeh naaz~parwardagaan-e-saahil, DareN miri sa’i-e-garm~roo se
Ke maiN samandar ki tund maujoN ko rauNd’ta paas aa raha hooN
The mirage of the colour & fragrance of ones fallen prey to deception am I worshiping,
But in the light of the results, I am reaching the end of my journey
Dawn is cracking in the depths of my heart, through the manifestation of Adam,
Powers of my creation, those worthy of God’s praise, I am awakening
I breath on every step because the weight of life is very heavy,
Wait a little zealous–souled world, because I am coming with you
Even my ship–thighs wonder at my content determination,
That wind-storms are blowing fast & I am still maneuvering my boat
Even the magic of my creation smiles upon my enchanting style,
Many-a-tricks have I awoken, many-a-tricks I am still awakening
Somebody ask this affectionate shine to keep a count of its rays
Every bit of my turban I am teaching to glitter on its own
My imagination , my intentions will over the creation rule
Where the angels’ wings tremble, to those heights I am going
Pride of the Lord of the shores, may fear the shadow of my zealous-soul
Because trampling these fast waves of the sea, I am coming closer towards you
The poet seems to have fallen prey to deception and is appreciative of the suffering of those who have gone through a similar situation and addresses the suffering as colourful & fragrant.
He says that through the realization of him being the progeny of Prophet Adam AS, the first man to inhabit the Earth, light has filled the darkest depths of his heart. He is realizing the potent powers of the majestic creation that he is.
He is breathing heavily on every step he takes because he is feeling that the burden of life is too heavy. He is asking the fast paced young world to wait for him, since he wants to join the journey.
The poet says that his thighs that ship him are amazed at his satisfied mind-set that in spite of the fast storms (indicative of the life’s problems), he continues to walk ahead.
The human creation is amazed at the perseverance exhibited by him. He says he has awaken inside him that magic and is awakening many more.
He teasingly asks the desert Sun to count its rays and then tell it that every bit of his turban shines as taught by him. Strongly referring to his sweaty brow.
thanking Zoyeb for the English version, and his mom for translating it 🙂
I watched The Reluctant Fundamentalist movie adaptation last year, and near the end of the movie, a poem was recited at a funeral scene.
I found out that the poet was none other than Allama Jameel Mazhari, but unfortunately I was unable to find the original version, my friend and his mother did an amazing translation from a roman english version of the same. Needless to say, the itch remained.
I dropped a mail to Rekhta
Not only I got a prompt reply, assuring me that they’ll find it, but they shot me another email in less than 2 hours, with a scanned copy of the poem from Allama Mazhari’s Kulliyat.
Thank you so much! the team at Rekhta :’ )
I am short of words to express my gratitude