On Shahryar and the Jnanpith Award

It was with great pride that I watched Shahryar receive the country's highest literary award, the venerable Jnanpith, being conferred upon him on Sunday, 18th September 2011. That the person giving it was Amitabh Bachchan was another matter. In my humble opinion, Mr Bachchan, regardless of his stature in the Hindi film industry, had little grounds for being there. Any grounds he might have had for being present in such an august gathering by virtue of being the son of Harivanshrai Bachchan were lost given his advocacy of Narendar Modi. But the matter of the Chief Guest aside, there is no diminishing the significance of the award itself or, more importantly, of Shahryar as the pre-eminent voice of an entire generation.

We pay tribute to Shahryar and his invincible spirit. May there be more awards, greater recognition and much happiness in store for him.We pray for his health and his long life and for him we say: Allah kare zor-e-qalam aur ziyadah.

As a token of my respect for one of the greatest living Urdu poets, I append some of my translations from his nazms below:

Tonight the night presented me

With a new dilemma

It emptied the basin of my eye

Of all sleep

And filled it with tears

Then, it whispered in my ear:

‘I have absolved you of all sin

And set you free, forever

‘Go, wherever you wish

Sleep, or stay awake

The doorway of dreams is closed for you.’

 A black poem

Let me write a black poem on virgin paper

Let me light up this banquet with unseen, formless silences

The smell of unripe guavas maddens me

It makes my empty eyes brim with wetness

Far away wild animals growl and snap at each other

Between us, lies endless nights

An uncreased bed stares at me

My body half sleeps, half wakes

And I resolve

To write a black poem

 Let me speak

Let me open

Let me open the window of fragrances

Let it fly

Let this bird-like soul fly far, far away

Let it speak

Let the red blood imprisoned in this body speak

Behind the gold and green curtain

Lies an impenetrable silence

Don’t hush me, don’t stop me

Let me speak

Do you remember?

Do you remember

You had sworn

Placing your hand on night’s palm

That the glitter and keen of morning’s sun-sword

Would no longer frighten you

And you would give away

The dream treasures

That you had hidden in your eyes

As gifts

To someone

Braver and stronger

Than you

So, what stops you now

In the defence of sleepless nights

Think, my friend

Open your eyes and see

This barren night

Is the enemy of all your dreams

Don’t sell your sleeplessness

To this night

(The above translations are from Through the Closed Doorway: A Collection of Nazms by Shahryar, translated by Rakhshanda Jalil, Rupa & Co., 2004.)