![]() |
![]() |
AzgarKhan |
![]()
Post
#1
|
![]() Dedicated Member ![]() Group: Members Posts: 4425 Joined: 23-January 04 From: New York (USA) / Hyderabad (India) Member No.: 205 ![]() |
My rebellious notes make the world think
that my heart abhors the lyrics of love, that I find solace in strife and war, that my very nature relishes blood-letting, that my world cares not for life's finer things, that the noise of revolt is music to me. These lines, translated from Urdu, were written more than 50 years ago, under the title Mere Geet. They remain largely obscure because they are not among the work their author became more famous for: film lyrics. The above lines -- and the reason the poet gives for that state of mind -- reflect, however, an important facet of his personality. The author of these lines, Sahir Ludhianvi, was different. Unable to sing hymns to Khuda (God), Husn (beauty) and Jaam (wine), his pen would rather pour out his anguish and bitterness over social inequities, political cynicism, the artificial barriers that divide mankind, the senselessness of war, the domination of materialism over love. His loves, and love poems, were tinged with sorrow, with the realisation that there are stark realities more important than romantic love. This facet was seen in his lines for the film Didi: Zindagi Sirf Mohabbat Nahin Kuch Aur Bhi Hai Zulf-o-Rukhsaar ki Jannat Nahi Kuch Aur Bhi Hai Bhookh Aur Pyaas ki Maari Hui Is Duniya Mein Ishq Hi Ek Haqeeqat Nahin Kuch Aur Bhi Hai. And in Pyaar Par Bas To Nahin Hai Lekin Phir Bhi Tu Bata De Ki Main Tujhe Pyaar Karoon Ya Na Karoon in the film Sone Ki Chidiya (1958). Born Abdul Hayee on March 8, 1921, Sahir was the only son of a Ludhiana zamindar. His parents' estrangement and the Partition made him shuttle between India and Pakistan. It also brought him face to face with a struggle called life. A member of the Progressive Writers' Association, he edited Adab-e-Latif, Pritlari, Savera and Shahrab. An arrest warrant issued by the Pakistani government of the day made him flee to Bombay in 1949. By now, he had managed to publish his anthology Talkhiyaan (Bitternesses). Besides Talkhiyaan and the hundreds of film songs he penned in a career spanning three decades, Sahir also authored the anthologies Parchaiyaan, Ao Ki Koi Khwab Buney and Gaata Jaaye Banjara. Sahir debuted in films with his lyrics for Naujawan (1951). Even today, the film's lilting song Thandi Hawayen Lehrake Aaye makes hearts flutter. His first major success came the same year with Guru Dutt's directorial debut, Baazi, again pairing him with composer S.D. Burman. Together, S.D. Burman and Sahir created some of the most popular songs ever: Yeh Raat Yeh Chandni Phir Kahaan - Jaal (1952); Jaaye to Jaaye Kahaan - Taxi Driver (1954); Teri Duniya Mein Jeene se Behtar Ho Ki Mar Jaayen - House Number 44 (1955); and Jeevan ke Safar Mein Rahi - Munimji (1955). The duo reached their creative zenith with Pyaasa (1957). All good things, as they say, come to an end. S.D. Burman and Sahir parted ways after Pyaasa and never worked together again. Sahir, already a stalwart as the sixties approached, wrote gems for films like Hum Dono (1961), Gumraah (1963), Taj Mahal (1963), Waqt (1965), Humraaz (1967) and Neel Kamal (1968), teaming up with composers Ravi, Jaidev, N. Datta, Roshan, Khayyam, R.D. Burman and Laxmikant-Pyarelal. Sahir's work in the 1970s was mainly restricted to films directed by Yash Chopra. Though his output in terms of number of films had thinned out, the quality of his writings commanded immense respect. Kabhi Kabhie (1976) saw him return to sparkling form. These songs won him his second Filmfare award, the first one being for Taj Mahal. Sahir's poetry had a Faizian quality. Like Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Sahir too gave Hindustani/Urdu poetry an intellectual element that caught the imagination of the youth of the forties and fifties and sixties. He helped them to discover their spine. Sahir asked questions, was not afraid of calling a spade a ****** spade, and roused people from an independence-induced smugness. He would pick on the self-appointed custodian of religion, the self-serving politician, the exploitative capitalist, the war-mongering big powers. Aren't they familiar? Close to Sahir's heart were the farmer crushed by debt, the young man sent to the border to fight somebody's dirty war, the lass forced to sell her body, the youth frustrated by unemployment, families living in dire poverty... The underdog remains; his bard is gone. Whether it was the arrest of progressive writers in Pakistan, the launch of the satellite Sputnik, or the discovery of Ghalib by a government lusting minority votes, Sahir reacted with a verve not seen in many writers' work. Kahat-e-Bangal (The Famine of Bengal), written by a 25-year-old Sahir, bespeaks maturity that came early. His Subah-e-Navroz (Dawn of a New Day), mocks the concept of celebration when the poor exist in squalor. Writing for films occupied much of Sahir's time and energy in and after the fifties. Never one to compromise while writing for a "lesser" medium, Sahir wrote such gems like Aurat ne Janam Diya Mardon ko Mardon ne Use Bazaar Diya for Sadhana (1958) and Tu Hindu Banega na Musalmaan Banega Insaan ki Aulaad Hai, Insaan Banega for Dhool Ka Phool (1959). Then who can ever forget Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye To Kya Hai or Jinhe Naaz Hai Hind Par Woh Kahaan Hain from Pyaasa? Pyaasa, a movie that many suspect was his biography, was the high point of Sahir's genius. By now, Sahir was disillusioned over the state of the nation. His dissatisfaction with Congress policies found voice in songs like Jinhe Naaz Hai Hind Par Woh Kahaan Hain and Chino Arab Humara - Phir Subah Hogi (1958). This combination of political awareness and humanitarian compassion is found all through in Sahir's poetry, whether written for films or not. Ever a sensitive soul, Sahir reacted to the world around him, pouring his sentiments into the songs he penned for films. Coming from his pen, even the most mundane would have a message. For example, this song from Neelkamal: Khali Dabba Khali Botal Le Le Mere Yaar Khali se Mat Nafrat Karna, Khali Sab Sansar. His poetry could at once be sublime - Tora Man Darpan Ehlaye Bhale Bure Sare Karmo ko Dekhe Aur Dikhaye from Kajal (1965), introspective - Man Re Tu Kahe Na Dheer Dhare from Chitralekha(1964), invoking - Allah Tero Naam Ishwar Tero Naam Sabko Sanmati de Bhagwan from Hum Dono, esoteric - Khuda-e-Bartar Teri Zameen Par Zameen ki Khatir Jung Kyon Hai from Taj Mahal, and philosophical - Jahan Mein Aisa Kaun Hai Ki Jisko Gham Mila Nahin again from Hum Dono. There lay Sahir's spirituality. Ingrained in this spirituality was a quest for a greater humanity, better people, a livable world. Paradoxically, it always involved, and was about, the material rather than the metaphysical. A colossus among song writers, Sahir fought for, and became the first film lyricist to get, royalty from music companies. He would deeply involve himself in the setting of tunes for his songs. Any wonder why they are extra melodious? There was a negative trait too: Sahir would insist he be paid a rupee more for each song than Lata Mangeshkar was. Call it a left-over of his zamindar background, or an example of success gone to the head, this egotism of Sahir has been heard of and written about. A bachelor to the end, Sahir fell in love with writer Amrita Pritam and singer Sudha Malhotra, relationships that never fructified in the conventional sense and left him sad. Ironically, the two ladies' fathers wouldn't accept Sahir, an atheist, because of his perceived religion. Had they seen the iconoclast in him, that would have been worse; being an atheist was worse than belonging to the 'other' religion. Sahir, perhaps, had an answer to such artificial barriers in these lines written for Naya Raasta (1970): Nafraton ke jahan mein humko pyaar ki bastiyaan basaani hain Door rehna koi kamaal nahin, paas aao to koi baat bane A young Amrita Pritam, madly in love with Sahir, wrote his name hundreds of times on a sheet of paper while addressing a press conference. They would meet without exchanging a word, Sahir would puff away; after Sahir's departure, Amrita would smoke the cigarette butts left behind by him. After his death, Amrita said she hoped the air mixed with the smoke of the butts would travel to the other world and meet Sahir! Such was their obsession and intensity. Over two decades after his death, Sahir's songs remain immensely popular. His poetry continues to inspire radical groups and individuals and strikes a chord in sensitive people, leftist or not. Why else would a Vajpayee invoke Sahir while taking a dig at Pakistan? Woh waqt gaya woh daur gaya jab do qaumon ka naara tha Woh log gaye is dharti se jinka maqsad batwaara tha Sahir died after a heart attack he suffered while playing cards. One suspects the poet, whose heart bled for others, never paid enough attention to his own life. There was a card-player nonchalance about himself, as seen in this Hum Dono song: Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya Har fikr ko dhuwein me udata chala gaya Had Sahir (whose 22nd death anniversary falls on October 25) not allowed drink and cigarette smoke to consume himself, had he lived a fuller life like contemporaries Majrooh Sultanpuri and Kaifi Azmi did, it would have been interesting to watch him react to changing social values, to politics touching its nadir, to 'secular' becoming a dirty word, to the abuse of religion to spread hatred and get votes, to the supposed failure of communism, to the never-ending dowry deaths, to the intellectual inertia of the intelligentsia.... Perhaps he would have influenced thought as he did in the past. Maybe his message to the masses would have been the same as it was decades ago: Tumse Quwwat Lekar, Main Tumko Raah Dikhaoonga Tum Parcham Lehrana Saathi, Main Barbat par Gaoonga. Aaj se Mere Phan ka Maksad Zanjeere Pighlana Hai Aaj se Main Shabnam ke Badle Angaare Barsaoonga. (Drawing from your strength, I shall show you the way You wave the flag, comrades, I shall sing for you My art will now melt your chains From now on my poetry will rain embers) Contributed by Arti Koyal (http://www.upperstall.com/people/sahir.html) Composed by Azgar Khan _______________________________________________________________________________
My Youtube Videos Palestine belongs to the Arabs in the same sense that England belongs to the English or France to the French. It is wrong and inhuman to impose the Jews on the Arabs. - Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi |
![]() ![]() |
AzgarKhan |
![]()
Post
#2
|
![]() Dedicated Member ![]() Group: Members Posts: 4425 Joined: 23-January 04 From: New York (USA) / Hyderabad (India) Member No.: 205 ![]() |
Sahir Ludhianvi was only 23 when, in 1943, he published his first book Talkhiyan, arguably the best-selling work of Urdu poetry after the Deewaan-e-Ghalib.
Most of us know of Sahir as a successful lyricist for the Bombay film industry. His songs could be dark and melancholy (Ye duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai), or playful (Hum aap ki aankhon mein, iss dil ko basaa de to), or even full of charming buffoonery (Sar jo tera chakraaye, ya dil dooba jaaye, aaja pyare paas hamaare, kaahe ghabraae, kaahe ghabraae). It is Sahir, and others like him, who has kept Urdu alive in popular Indian culture through the medium of the film song. But there is also another Sahir. One who has not circulated as widely among the masses. And this is tragic, because it is the ordinary people and their struggles that provided his poetry its breath of life. In the years before 1947, Sahir lived in Lahore, editing a number of journals, including a fortnightly called Savera. In 1949, he was forced to flee. His critical articles had roused the ire of the Pakistani state, and an arrest warrant was issued in his name. Long before his hurried departure from the new nation, Sahir had asked: Chalo us kufr ke ghar se salaamat aa gaye lekin / Khuda ki mamlekat mein sokhta khaanon pe kya guzri (Thank God we arrived safe from the land of infidels; / But in God's own kingdom, what happened to the broken-hearted?). In Bombay, the Sahir mystique was quick to take hold. His songs, lent voice by the best singers in the industry, would sail out from radio sets in shops and the open windows of homes in towns and cities all over the nation. Little is known of Sahir's non-filmi work though. This was partly because Sahir rarely published his works. All of it, however, was powerful poetry. In 1956, for instance, Sahir wrote his long poem Parchaiyan (Silhouettes). A tribute to lost love, it was also a powerful antiwar manifesto. This mix of poetry and politics was Sahir's hallmark. Sahir was a member of the Progressive Writers Association (PWA). But, we might ask, what did this mean in terms of his poetry. The trend with poets had been to ascribe mystical origins to their work. For example, Ghalib had written: Aate hain ghaib se ye mazaameen khayaal mein / Ghalib, sareer e khaama, nawaa e sarosh hai (These ideas come to me from the void / Ghalib, the scratching of pen on paper is the flutter of angels' wings). Sahir was not one for such airy metaphysics. His poetry, quite emphatically, had material roots. And so, on the frontispiece of his book "Talkhiyan" (Bitter Words), we read the following verse: Duniya ne tajrubaat o hawaadis ki shakl mein / Jo kuch mujhe diya hai, wo lauta rahaa hoon main (What the world, in the form of experiences and accidents / Bestowed upon me, I am returning). Sahir's poetry was a departure from the classical traditional of Urdu poetry or the funoon-e-lateefa (the delicate arts). He wanted his poems to walk among the people, and that is why they seem to have the dust of the common roads on them. Sahir was aware that such a radical departure invited dismissal from the pure aesthetes. This did not overly trouble him; he had only contempt for those who wanted anything different of his works. His aesthetic manifesto was delivered in these ringing words: Mujh ko is ka ranj nahin hai, log mujhe fankaar na manein / Fikr o sukhan ke taajir mere sheron ko ash-aar na manein (I do not regret that people do not consider me an artist / That the traders of thought and words do not consider my poems poetic). To call a critic a crass trader is a time-honoured practice among Leftist poets. It continues to this day. Javed Akhtar, for instance, has unfurled his own banner in the following verse: Jaanta hoon main tum ko, zauq e shaairi bhi hai / Shaqsiyat sajaane mein, ek ye maahiri bhi hai / Phir bhi harf chunte ho, sirf lafz sunte ho / Un ke darmiyaan kya hai, tum na jaan paaoge (I know you appreciate poetry / After all, it is a personality-building skill / But you just pluck letters, hear words / What lies between them, you shopkeepers will never know). But, there is a profound difference between a proclamation like Akhtar's, and the one by Sahir. And it lies in the fact that Sahir actually used his poetry to explain why he consciously repudiated the dominant forms of Urdu poetry - and his words carried a stinging awareness of why he himself would, in turn, be rejected by those who defended the status quo. Sahir's triumph, of course, is that his finest poetry is as fine-grained as the ghazals of Ghalib and Meer, as lyrical as Faiz's nazms, and as inflected with philosophy as musadddas by Hali or Iqbal. Such poetry is a repudiation of all worn-out arguments against progressive, politically-inflected writing. However, despite the fact that Sahir's poems are hummed on the streets, his songs are keeping an idiom alive, and his non-film poetry is sold out, Sahir has received little critical attention, especially in commentaries written in English. In his famous analysis of Urdu literature, Mohammed Sadiq, after a chapter on Ghalib, Iqbal, and even Akbar Ilahabadi, dismisses Sahir in one paragraph. It is true that several Urdu journals have devoted special issues to Sahir's work, and Urdu critics like Intizar Husain have lauded him as a literary giant. Indeed, his songs continue to inspire many Urdu writers. But, there is no critical appreciation of his work in English. Barring a critical and empathic analysis by Carlo Coppola, most of Sahir's critics in English dismiss him as a pamphleteer or an ideologue. In the narrow world of Urdu criticism in English, there appears to be an implicit agreement that the works of PWA writers, while they may be lauded as devices of public organising, are aesthetically inferior, and even harmful to Urdu poetry's classical traditions. Why have these progressives been given such short shrift? I believe that their fate is not unique to Urdu writers. It is not unusual for the defenders of the canon in any field of literature to be wary of aesthetic experiments, and to regard the outcome of such experiments as aesthetic failure. Thus, in the present literature on Urdu poetry, poets like Sahir Ludhianvi remain forgotten, very much like the workers who built the Taj Mahal, about whom he wrote with such indelible passion: Meri mehboob, unhe bhi to mohabbat hogi / Jin ki sannaa'i ne bakhshi hai ise shakl e jameel / Unke pyaaron ke maqaabir rahe be naam-o-numood / Aaj tak un pe jalaai na kisi ne qandeel (My love, they too must have loved / Whose craft has given the Taj its beautiful visage / Their loved ones lie in unmarked graves / Where no one even lights a candle). At this point in history, though, Sahir's touching appeals against war are strongly brought to mind. In 1956, following the Suez Canal crisis, he wrote Parchaiyan, which focused on the domestic fallout of war. Us shaam mujhe maaloom hua, kheton ki tarah is duniya mein Sahmi hui doshezaaon ki muskaan bhi bechi jaati hai Us shaam mujhe maaloom hua, is kaargah e zardaari mein Do bholi bhaali roohon ki pehchaan bhi bechi jaati hai On that evening, I learned that in this world, like fields The smiles on the nervous faces of beauties are also traded On that evening, I learned that in the marketplace of capital The intimacy of two innocent souls is also traded. … Guzishta jang mein ghar hi jale, magar is baar Ajab nahin, ke ye tanhaaiyaan bhi jal jaayen Guzishta jang mein paikar jale, magar is baar Ajab nahin, ke ye parchaiyan bhi jal jaayen In the last war, homes were burned, but this time Even the loneliness may burn away In the last war, only bodies burned, but this time Even the silhouettes may burn away (Raza Mir teaches at Monmouth University, New Jersey and helps edit the magazine SAMAR.) _______________________________________________________________________________
My Youtube Videos Palestine belongs to the Arabs in the same sense that England belongs to the English or France to the French. It is wrong and inhuman to impose the Jews on the Arabs. - Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi |
![]() ![]() |
![]() |
Lo-Fi Version | Disclaimer | HF Guidelines | ![]() |
Time is now: 18th July 2025 - 03:02 PM |