“Sindh Through the Centuries” Seminar -March 2014
Posted in Guest Writers
Sawaal Ki Talash Mein-Vimmi S
सवाल की तलाश मेंजो अपने घरों से निकले,
ख़ामोशी इक जवाब मिला उनको
कविता, संवेदनशील हृदय की उपज होती है जिसका श्रंगार करती है रसात्मकता एवं लयात्मकता। व्यक्तिगत अनुभूतियों के साथ सामाजिक जीवन का यथार्थ मिलकर श्रेष्ठ कविता को साकार करता है। जिस तरह गहरे पानी में फेंका गया कंकर हलचल का सिलसिला शुरू करता है, वैसे ही समाज में, अपने आसपास की कुनीतियों से पीड़ित होकर जन-मानव जीवन की विसंगतियों से हार मान बैठे हैं, जबकि एक नन्हा दीपक घनघोर अंधेरे को पराजय नहीं मानता। यहां मुझे शाहिद नदीम का यह शेर याद आ रहा है –
तिरे खयालों की किरणों से जु़ल्मतें कम हों,
तिरे वक़ार से दुनिया में खुशबुएँ फैलें
डा. कृष्ण पांडेय अपने शोध संस्करण ‘प्रेमचंद, विचारधारा और साहित्य’ में लिखते हैं – ‘लेखक का व्यक्तिगत जीवन उसकी विचार प्रतिक्रिया का निर्माण हेतु होता है’. सच ही तो है, परिपक्व मन की परिभाषा में भीतर की हलचल को बाहर के शोर में अभिव्यक्त करने वाली लेखिका विम्मी सदारंगाणी ने भी अपनी इस नवीनतम कृति ‘सवाल की तलाश में’ अपनी निशब्द सोच को शब्दों के सहारे अभिव्यक्त करते हुए लिखा है –
‘कविता नहीं है यह / बाहर जो आता है / वह कविता नहीं / बाहर आते हैं शब्द / कविता भीतर ही जी रही होती है।’
कविता अंदर से बाहर की ओर बहने वाला निर्झर झरना है जिसकी प्रमुखता और प्रखरता करीने से सजाए हुए शब्दों से आती है। मन के सागर में जब अहसास की लहरें हलचल मचाती हैं तब भावविभोर होकर अपने मनोभावों को टटोलते हुए, अपने वजूद की तलाष में कवियत्री यह महसूस करती है कि वह ज़िंदा है, तब तक,जब तक ज़मीर सौदागरों की चैखटों पर गिरवी नहीं रखा गया हो, तब तक वह धड़कता है, सांस लेता है और जि़ंदा रहता है। आइये, उनकी इस बानगी में झांकें, और उनके कथन की सच्चाई को टटोलें, जब वह लिखती हैं,
रास्ते पर दौड़ती गिलहरी को देखकर वह ब्रेक लगाती है
अपनी किताबों के बीच चिड़िया को घर सजाने देती है
कुत्ते के पिल्ले की कूं कूं सुनकर दौड़ती हुई उस दिशा में जाती है –
तब उसे लगता है कि कोई उसके अंदर जि़ंदा है, सांस ले रहा है, फिर उसका मन अपने अनुभव की सीमा को यथार्थ से जोड़ता है –
तब महसूस होता है / मेरे अंदर कोई जि़ंदा है
तब मन मानता है / कि मेरे अंदर कोई सांस ले रहा है
तब भरोसा होता है / कि मैं जि़ंदा हूं।
यहां काव्य स्वरूप और सुंदरता एकाकार हुई है। शब्द और अर्थ भी उसी दायरे में यूं लग रहे हैं जैसे कवियत्री ने अर्थ ही प्रकट किये हैं। यह पाठक के मन में धंसती हुई बेलौस अभिव्यक्ति है जिसके लिए विम्मी जी को साधुवाद! बच्चन जी का कथन कि, ‘कवि समाज का पथ प्रदर्शक होता है’। सच के सामने आईना है यह अभिव्यक्ति। बड़ा कलाकार वही होता है जो कला पर हावी हो, विम्मी जी उसी राह की पथिक हैं इसमें कोई दो राय नहीं।
आज की कृत्रिम दुनिया में हर जगह समझौते हुए जा रहे हैं। जहां सच का गला घोंटा जा रहा है, वहीं फरेबों की साज़िश दिल और दिमाग़ में तक़रार बरक़रार रखती है। सांसों की घुटन को महसूस करते हुए कवियत्री का अंदाजे़-बयां सुनिए –
‘मैंने तो तुमसे कुछ भी नहीं पूछा
बस, सिमट गई तुम्हारी बाहों में
तुम्हारा कसता आलिंगन
मैंने समझा प्यार तुम्हारा
पता ही नहीं चला
कब मेरा दम घुट गया!’
रिश्तों की नींव जब आसपास की गर्दिशों से जूझकर खोखली होती है, हिलने लगती है तो मानव मन अपनी ही यादों के आकाश में उड़ते-उड़ते थका सा, किसी ‘अपने’ के स्नेह का आंचल ओढ़ लेता है; फिर चाहे वह ममता का हो, अपनी ही औलाद की मुस्कराहट का गलीचा हो, वह अपने कोमल, नर्म स्पर्श से हर ज़ख़्म का मरहम बन जाता है। शायद इसीलिए विम्मी जी ने लिखा है –
‘अपनी मासूम मुस्कराहट का एक हिस्सा
मुझे दे देती थी वह।’
मन की परतों में एक और भी नगरी है, जहां यह मन कभी व्याकुल होकर, कभी व्यथा की छटपटाहट से समाधान पाने की चाह में कुछ पल उसी छांव में बिता देता है, जहां सच और झूठ का अंतर मिट जाता है। आईना और अक़्स आमने सामने होते हैं। बबूल के कांटे भी कवि की नज़र से नहीं छुपते। किसी ने खूब कहा है – ‘जहां न पहुंचे रवि, वहां पहुंचे कवि’। विम्मी की पैनी नज़र समीक्षक बनकर सच और झूठ के अंतर की दुविधाजनक स्थिति का पर्दाफ़ाश करती है, हर आवरण को बेनक़ाब करती है। उसकी गहरी दृष्टि मंथनोपरांत सोच को शब्दों में यूँ सामने ले आई है. –
‘बेल / बबूल पर छा गई है
बबूल के कांटे / छिप गए हैं।’
आज के इस वर्तमान दौर में करूणा, संवेदना, भावकुता, अपनापन, सब लुप्त हो गया है, स्वार्थ ही स्वार्थ डेरा डाले बैठा है। यहां कवियत्री अपनी भेदती नज़र से, सादगी से सजी शातिरता को भी पछाड़ देती है और अपनी बानगी से छुपे हुए गुनाह को बेनक़ाब करते हुए लिखती है –
तुमने / गुलाब तोड़ लिया / और
उसका नाम मोगरा रख दिया /
अब पूछते हो /
तुमने क्या गुनाह किया! /
निराशा की ज़मीन पर आशाओं के बीज बोना, सत्य के दायरे में असत्य के बीज उकेरने वाली सिन्धी और हिन्दी की बहुभाषी प्रतिभा की कलमकार विम्मी सदारंगाणी, अमन और चैन का स्वर्ण संदेश लेकर उम्मीदों की किरणों से हर जात-पात के भेदभाव को भेदते हुए कहती है –
शांति आएगी एक दिन / और वह होगी आखि़री शांति।
बस, एक बात कहनी है आपसे
मुझे मरने मत देना / मैं ही हूं आपकी आखि़री उम्मीद।
ऐसी मुबारक उम्मीदों के चराग़ों को रोशन रखने वाली कवियत्री को मेरी बधाई और शुभकामनाएं।
समीक्षक: देवी नागरानी
९.डी॰ कॉर्नर व्यू सोसाइटीए १५ध् ३३ रोडए बांद्रा ए मुंबई ४०००५०,फ़ोन 9987938358/
काव्य संग्रह: सवाल की तलाश में,लेखिका: विम्मी सदारंगानी पन्ने.112,मूल्य रु॰ १५०,प्रकाशकः विभा प्रकाशन
Posted in Sindhi Sameeksha
Lokarpan Of Pahinji Dharti
April 12, 2014 Was celebrated as a SINDHI DIWAS on the dias of Chandibai Himmatlal Mansukhani college followed by the kavya Goshti. On the auspicious occasion was the book release of Devi Nangrani’s Book “APNI DHARTI” .(A collection of 15 translated stories from Hindi To Arabic Sindhi-Preface by Hundraj Balwani and My View-By Dr. Arjan Chawla). The Sindhi Diwas celebration started at 11 a.m and continued till 3.00 pm. in the presence of the Founder member shri Kishu Mansukhani, Shri Nirmal Gokhlani (President NCPSL) the well known sindhi Laureete- Dayal Asha (President, sindhi Academy-Maharashta), Dr. Manju Nicchani- (Principal, KC College), Smt. Kala Prakash-(an eminent story writer), Asha Chand-(Sindhi Sangat), Ashok Kamdar, Smt Meena Roopchandani, and the coordinator and sanchalak of the programme-Dr. Sandhya Kundnani. The positive ideas for the upliftment of the sindhi Language were shared by all the chief guests in the Picture .
Among the participants of the Poetry recitation that we present were, shri Narayan Bharati (Ulhasnagar), shri Goverdhan Sharma Ghayal (Poona), Shri jetho Lalwani (Ahmedabad) Shri Nirmal Goplani(Delhi), Laxman Dubey (Mumbai), Devi Nangrani (Mumbai), Asha Chand (Dubai) shri Holaram Hans, shri Gyanchandani, and smt sandhya Kundnani…Daya Lakhi and others.
The hall was full with keen listeners, the programmme ended with the vote of Thanks followed by Lunch. ..Jai Hind, Jai Sindh
Devi Nangrani dnangrani@gmail.com
Posted in Books Published
Akhar Katha-Nand Zaveri
”اکر ڪٿا“
پنهنجي گذريل ڪَلَ جي تجُربن جي بُنيادَ تي اڄُ جو نِرماڻُ
زندگي هڪ سندر ڪويتا آهي، پر ڪويتا زندگي ناهي. مانوتا جي دهليز تي دَستڪُ ڏيندڙُ ڀاوَ- ڀِنلن ……. شبدن جو سموهُ جڏهن پاٺڪ کي پڙهڻ بعد سوچڻ تي مجبور ڪري ته سچ ڪري ڄاڻجي ته شايد رچنا جو وجود ۾ اچڻ جو اهوئي اُهو ’ڪارڻ‘ آهي جو شبد کي ارٿ ڏيڻ ۾ پريپورڻ ….. آهي.
ادب جي ڪهڙي به صنف هجي اُها ليکڪ جي قلم جي تيورن ۽ طاقت سان پنهنجو پريچيه …….. خود پاڻ ئي ڏيندو آهي. آچاريه رامچندر شڪل جو چوڻ آهي ته ”ناد سوندريه سان ڪويتا جي عمر وڌنڌي آهي.“ ڀارتيه آچاريه ممٽ پڻ لکيو آهي ته ”اهڙي شبد ۽ ارٿ کي ڪويتا ٿو چئجي، جنهن ۾ دوش نه هجن، گڻ ۽ النڪار هجن، ڪڏهن ڪڏهن نه به هجن“ ڪُلُ ملائي ڪنهن دلڪش جذبي يا خيال جو دلڪش اِظهارُ ’ڪويتا‘ آهي.“
اهڙين ڪويتائن جو سنگره ’اکر ڪٿا‘ جي روپ ۾ منجري عام تي آڻڻ جو سڦل پرياس ڪيو آهي شري نند جويريءَ ؛ جن جي رچناتمڪ اورجا ……. سان واقف ٿيندي، پد – پد مان اُنهن جي شخصيت جي قد سان پاٺڪ روبرو ٿو ٿئي.
نٿو ڄاڻان مان / ڪنهنجو انش آهي
هيءُ شبد جو جنڪ / نشبد
شايد ڇايا آهي / اُن جي
جنهن اَنام کي / نانءُ ڏنو آهي
(ص. 23 تي)
اکر اکر ۾ ماٺ جي جهنڪار ٻڌڻ ۾ ٿي اچي. ان ماٺ کي شبد روپي ارٿ ڏيئي انتر من جي احساسن کياڀيويڪت ….. ڪيو آهي. ڪٿي ڪٿي ته شبد ۽ ارٿ ايتري قدر ايڪاڪار ٿي سامهون ٿا اچن جو پڙهڻ سان اهو آڀاس ٿو ٿئي ته رچناڪار اَرٿُ هي لکيو آهي. جويري صاحب جي سوچ شبدن ۾ پاڻ کي پڌرو ڪري پاڻ کي پنهنجي وشواس ۽ اوشواس جي چڪروهيو ۾ جڪڙڻ لاءِ شبدن جو ڄار وِڇايو آهي.
جڏهن اَرٿُ / اَرٿَ هيڻ ٿي پوي ٿو
اِڪَ اَرٿي شبدُ / ٻهو اَرٿي نشبدُ ٿي پوي ٿو
سگڻُ شبدُ / نرگڻ نشبدُ ٿي پوي ٿو
مورتَ اَمورتَ ٿي پوي ٿي / اَپاترُ سُپاترُ ٿي پوي ٿو
جڏهن اَرٿُ / اَرٿَ هيڻ ٿي پوي ٿو (ص. 18 تي)
من جي وشواس جا سروپ سامهون ٿا اچن، ڪٿي سچ ڪوڙ جو آڀاس ٿو جڳائي ته ڪٿي ڪوڙ سچ جو. ڪٿي ڀرم حقيقت ٿو لڳڻ لڳي ته ڪٿي حقيقت ڀرم !!
شبد ڪوشل جو وستارُ اڻ چيل احساس جي ترجماني ڪرڻ ۾ پهل ڪري رهيو آهي. ڪويه ۽ شلپ ۾ به هڪ هيرت ۾ وجهندڙ وِوِڌتا ته آهي، ساڻ اُن جي هڪ ڪلاتمڪ اظهار جو انوٺو ڍنگ به آهي جو ڌيان ڇڪائڻ ۾ ڪامياب ٿو رهي. هن بانگيءَ ۾ اظهار جا تيور ڏسو ۽ پرکيو:
جو ڪجهه هن چيو / ۽ جو ڪجهه هن ڪيو
سڀ پنن ۾ موجود آهي
جو ڪجهه هن ڪونه چيو / يا ڪونه چئي به چيو
اُهو ڪٿي آهي (ص.86 تي)
ويچار ۽ ڀاشا جي هن سنتلت ميل ميلاپ ۾ آڪرشڻ آهي. اکرن جو رکُ رکاوُ من کي سروبار ٿو ڪري. هنن ڪويتائن جي وشيشتا اسان کي ليکڪ جي پرتيڀا جو پريچيه ڏيڻ ۾ اَڳري آهي.
رچناڪار جي شاعريءَ ۾ (ڪويتائن ۾) هڪ احساس آهي جو ايڪانت جي سيني ۾ پيو ڌرڪي، ۽ جڏهن ماٺ ڳالهائيندي آهي ته ٻڌڻ ۾ ايندو آهي هڪ شبنمي ترنمُ، ڄڻ ته جهيل مان ڪَل ڪَل ڪري وهندڙ جل جي سنگيت جي جهنڪار ٿو بڻجي پوي، اُها مٺي ڪوئل جي ڪوڪ ڄڻ ته پرتي کان اُجهلي آتما جي سوجهري ۾ وڃندڙ هڪ بانسري. پاٺڪ لاءِ هيءُ رچنائون ريگستان ۾ پاڻيءَ جي ٿڌائڻ ڏيڻ جو هڪ وسيلو آهن.
ڪوين جو سرمور مها ڪي هريشنڪر آڌيش سواتهه سُکار ڪوي هو. اُنهن جو لکيل رچنائون جيون جي سارٿڪتا ۽ سچ جو ڌرشن ڪرائڻ ۾ پري پورڻ آهن. لکيل آهي :
ڪويتا ئي منهنجو جيون آهي
منهنجو جيون ئي ڪويتا آهي
مان ڪويتا جي پريڀاشا آهيان.
ليکن جو ويڪتيگت جيون تجربن جي واٽن تي هلندي هلندي نت نئين نشبد سوچ سان اڳتي هلندي هلندي شبدن جو سهارو وٺي جڏهن پنهنجو پاڻ کي پڌرو ڪندو آهي تڏهن اُها ڪويتا بڻجي پوندي آهي. شبدن جي پرويوڳ جي بي مثالي هن رچنا مان پئي ليئا پائي:
ڪوئي نشان ناهي / پانڌيءَ جي کنيل قدم جو
پر پوءِ به / نشبد مان / شبدن جو هيءُ جوڙ
ڪيترن جي / راهه پئي رهيو آهي
ڪيترن بنا قدم کڻڻ جي / اِتان
پنهنجي پنهنجي منزل / پئي پاتي آهي. (ص. 41 تي)
”نٿو ڄاڻا مان، ڪنهنجو انش آهي.“ چوڻ وارو، لکڻ وارو اديب نند جويري شبدن جي هن ءول ءلئيآن ۾ جهڪڙجي، اُن ڄار ۾ا ڇٽڪارو پائڻ جي تمنا ۾ ڪويتا جي پريڀاشا ڪندي لکي ٿو :
شروعات ۾ / جڏهن هو اَنامُ هُئو
ته هو سَڀَ سان سَڀُ هُئو / پر جيئن ئي
هن اَنام کي نانءُ مليو
ته هو اَنامُ / کنڊُ کنڊُ ٿي ويو (ص. 27 تي)
رچنا کي مڪتي تڏهن ملندي آهي، جڏهن هوءَ ڪويءَ جي دل دهليز پار ڪري پاٺڪ جي چؤکٽ تي، اچي ساه پٽي، جنهن ڀاشا جي تورن ۾ تازگيءَ سان گڏ هڪ دِشا پڻ هجي، جا ڪلپنا هوندي به سچ جو آڀاس ڏي. اهڙيءَ ئي هڪ دَشا ۽ دِشا تي پستڪ جي آغازي پنن ۾ اديب شري لڇمڻ ڀاٽيا ڪومل لکيو آهي ـــ ” هن دؤر جو آواز گذري ويل دؤر جوسڏ ۽ پراڏو ئي ناهي، پر اُن سڏ ۽ پراڏي جي گوج کي پنهنجي اندر سمائي هڪ نئون آواز بڻجي اُڀري ٿو. اتي منهنجي ماٺ به نشبد ٿي ويئي آهي!!
اُها ماٺ جا شبد جو ارٿ بڻجي مانوَ من ۾ ڌنيءَ جو پراڏو بڻجي پوي، اُن اڻ چيل احساس جي گهرائين ۾ اُهو سچ پائڻو آهي، جو هڪ هڪ جي اندر فقط هن خُد لاءِ پوريل آهي. پاڻ سان ملڻو آهي، انهيءَ سچ سان ساکياتڪار ڪرڻو آهي. آئيني ۽ عڪس کي هڪ ٿيڻو آهي. پر پرشاٿ ڪرڻو آهي، جو
سچ ڪوڙ جو ٻج بڻي / سچ ڪوڙ جي ڪُکَ بڻي
نرجيو ديوار بيٺي آهي / تنهنجي منهنجي سچ ڪوڙَ کي
ڪُلهو ڏيندي / نرجيو ديوار بيٺي آهي. (ص. 117 تي)
اهڙن سهڻن احساسن کي سليڪي سان قلم بند ڪرڻ لاءِ نند جويريءَ کي شڀ ڪامنائون. ــــــ ديوي ناگراڻي
Posted in Sindhi Sameeksha
हिन्दी-उर्दू कवि सम्मेलन
संकल्प वेलफ़ैयर असोशिएशन द्वरा आयोजित विशाल हिन्दी-उर्दू कवि सम्मेलन, संस्था के अध्यक्ष डॉ॰ जी एल करनानी की उपस्थिति में, २७ जनवरी २०१३ की शाम को नवी मुंबई आर्ट फेस्टिवल at urban Hatt (ampitheater) बेलापुर में एक सुहानी शाम का समा बांधने में कामयाब रहा। इसमें शिरकत करने वाले हिन्दी और उर्दू के कवि, शायर मिली जुली गंगो-जमन की काव्य सरिता को 6-9 बजे तक कलकल प्रवाहित करते रहे।
श्री अनंत श्रीमाली के सशक्त संचालन में इतनी शिद्दत रही कि आर्ट फेस्टिवल के कई सेक्टर्स से लोगों का हुजूम आवाज़ पर बंधा चला आया और काव्य का रसपान करता रहा। काव्य में शामिल था हास्य, व्यंग, प्रेम गीत, तीखे तेवरों में डूबी रचनाएँ! शिरकत करने वाले रहे –दायें से बाएँ राजेश टैगोर, मीनू मदान, डॉ॰ लक्ष्मण शर्मा वाहिद, ख़न्ना मुज़फ्फ़पुरी, श्रीमती देवी नागरानी, श्रुति संवाद के अध्यक्ष श्री अरविंद राही, संस्था के अध्यक्ष श्री जी एल करनानी, प्रमिला शर्मा, अनंत श्रीमाली, प्रतीक दवे और दिलशाद सिद्दीकी। माहौल में मधहोशी के साथ सुरूर शामिल रहा। करनानी जी ने सभी शायरों का पुष्प गुच्छ से अभिनंदन व धन्यवाद किया। और अंत में खाने का उतम प्रबंध रहा। जयहिंद
देवी नागरानी
Lokarpan Of Baarish Ji Dua
On 9th June 2013 In SeeetaSindhuBhavan
NariSawlani, ThakurChawala, Vasudev Sindhu Bharti, ParuChawla, Devi
Nangrani, SangeetaSahajwani
Posted in Books Published
Lokarpan Of Aur Main Badi ho Gayi
In Gandhi Pratishthan-13 March 2013
Acharya DhirendraTripathi, Devi Nangrani, Dr. Bharatendu Srivastav,
Dr. Kamal Kishore Goyanka, Dr. Ajay Chaudhry
and Dr. Atul Jain
on 30 Ap.2013 In Rajasthan Sindhi Academy-Jaipur
Laxman Bhambhani, Naresh Chandnani, Devi Nangrani, A writer ,
Deepchand Tanwani
Posted in Books Published
Lokarpan Of Bhajan Mahima
In Raipur-28 Oct 2012
By: Sai Yudhishtar Lal Sant Shiromani, Devi Nangrani, Tekchand Mast
Kamala Gokhalani, Advocate Hirani
Posted in Books Published
Lokarpan Of Ghazal-
Lokarpan In Poona on 15 Sep 2012
Premchand Lal Sharma, Rita Shahani, Devi Nangrani, RukminiChainani
Tara Mirchandani, Goverdhan Sharma Ghayal
On oct 2012 in SeetasindhuBhavan
KantaIsrani, ShobhaLalchandani, Devi Nangrani, ThakurChawla, ParuChawla
Manoj Kumar-(singer), Khushalani
Posted in Books Published
RESURGENCE OF PROMETHEUS
How does one go about translating a poet’s selected ‘creations’ in letter & spirit? This task really poses enormous problems. How could poetic genius be reproduced in translation? How could a translator assimilate all the experience that had influenced poet? How could a translator assimilate all the experiences that had influenced the poet? How could a translator establish affinity of work in ‘one go’ with the ‘world without’? How could one find a voice and vocabulary to the poet’s inner realms? It is very difficult, if not impossible, to enter into the strange, sometimes, fenced world of a poet. It is quite possible that both, poet and translator, may have shared some common thoughts, musings inklings at some ‘time and place’ hence this marvelous poetic rendering in an alien language. Noonari has tackled poems persuasively. He has truly made Taj Baloch his own. From his enviable translation filters an interpretation, not interpolation. It is astonishing he has not only done well but, has also found a tone, or perhaps it is an idiom, that works. These renderings will open new vistas for imagination of non-Sindhi audiences and quicken their sensibilities. Moreover none knows better the cruel inadequacy of poetical translation like the translator. Faces and phases of Taj Baloch’s poetry are swaying and singing like a pretty damsel in English costume ‘Grief in Tatters’ translated by Latif Noonari. In this difficult task of translation Noonari has proved his acumen by keeping alive the spirit and soul of poems. This collection contains fifty two short and long poems and eighteen quatrains in different poetic meters and forms which:he feels are best representation of complete poetical works of Taj Baloch. Overall impression produced by his work, particularly English translation by Latif Noonari does echo a tone of irony, discontent, and optimism which is unique in its beauty of color, fragrance, unorthodox infinity. Common to poetry – continued therein thought, meaning, massage – is a critical interest in the nature of ‘time, space and human being. This trinity is a ‘creative power’ that is responsible for the birth, continuity, destruction and re-birth- not in religious idiom, or term. This verse translation conveys the literary richness and cultural significance of the original Sindhi version. His engrossing concentration and efforts on textual aspects are worthy to mention. Particularly lyrical structure of the original text is unambiguously peeping out from English rendering. It does not require here to attempt a technical discussion of the music which is melodiously flowing in these rendered poems. I hope this English translation of poems with varying moods, emotions, imagery and scents therein would find the wide literally influence upon non Sindhi diverse audiences. Vocabulary of these poems is highly concentrated. It would not be inappropriate to mention that in this translation, I am convinced, his skills and standards are at par -sometimes excel – with Agha Salim and Salim Khuwaja (Salim Noorhus), who both are old pioneers of this tricky and thorny track. I would again stress that this translation is true representation of the original Sindhi version. In English he has successfully found out diction which is receptive to the letters, words, meanings, and textures of Taj Baloch’s original output. In his rendering ‘word and feeling’, ‘sense and sound’ functions inseparably, complements each other and intensify the mood of expression. I would like to add that much before Noonari, Edward Fitzgerald, a man of letters and translator achieved fame with his free poetic version of the Persian quatrains, “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam” which was classical in its poise; which startled and fascinated ‘world of letters’. Richard Burton’s ‘Arabian Nights’ rendering into English too made ripples in the ‘literary world’ and till today could be seen/heard rippling, sighing and captivating; then, Adgar Allen Poe’s (poems) French renderings made Charles Baudelaire an immortal figure in French literature. When Sir William Jones first translated the ‘Shakuntala’ in 1789, this Sanskrit master piece was highly acclaimed in Europe, and most warmly, as was fitting, by the greatest living poet of Europe : ‘Goethe’. To save my soul from sinning his glowing tribute to Kalidasa is worthy to repeat and re-repeat; K A L I D A S A An ancient heathen poet, loving more God’s creatures, and His women, and His flowers Than we who boast of consecrated powers; Still lavishing his unexhausted store Of love’s deep simple wisdom, healing o’er The world s old sorrows. India s griefs and ours; That healing love he found in palace towers, On mountain, plain, and dark, sea-belted shore, In songs of holy Raghu’s kingly line Or sweet Shankutala in pious grove, In hearts that met where starry jasmines twine Or hearts that from long, lovelorn absence strove Together. Still his words of wisdom shine: All’s well with man, when man and woman love. Here poet Jay Deva’s epoch making beautiful poetic creation (in Sanskrit language) ‘Geeta Govinda’ (12th century A.D Bengal ) or The Indian song of songs’ gracefully raising it self from depths of mind. In 18th century it was rendered into English in versified form by renowned scholar Sir Edwin Arnold. Positive impact of this lovelorn and marvelous rendering made Sir Arnold a house hold name in literary world of both east and west. It is said,” poetry is distinguished from ordinary moods of speech by the controlled and stylized ways it strives to transcend-the limits of ordinary language.” Taj Baloch seems to me, in some of his ‘silvery’ poems, embodiment of erotic mood, costumed in dark gloom- and Sindh is his ‘dream girl’ and is identified with his ‘passion’, the emotion (his emotion is both personified and impersonified, divested and un-divested by all the accidents of circumstance- and distilled by art) through which said erotic mood develops. A passion ‘personified’ is consort to him like Rati is with Kama and Psyche is with Cupid. Here esthetic experience, the world of sense experience, and cultural experience (related to Sindh and its simple people) are basic (woven with each other like Jumana, at its confluence, with Ganges- at Allahabad) to him. In his complete works his unfulfilled and anguished life could be seen slowly unfolding itself like an old saga, or episode from Valmiki, Vedvyas, Homer. His world is not the creation of ‘art’ as before him Dante, Kalidasa, Homer used to show us. It is the world of insistent, pushing, loathsome realities and ever growing pressures. His green world of creativity possesses plentitude, beauty, grace, love, patriotism- and unending clouds of dark gloom where ominous loss of IDENTITY is looming around. In this world pattern of dream- illusion and of forgetfulness- recollection-recognition, too are intricately interwoven. Taj’s accomplishment lies in the manner in which his poetry escapes the constraints of the poetics of his time, even while it acknowledges those poetics, if indeed there exists, poetics that directs his genius. I am yet to find out concrete ‘objects of beauty in his poetry so far, as I did capture in Ayaz’s Circe-like world. But, there in Taj I have discovered an ‘intrinsic beauty’ scattered all over in his romancing creations like those heavenly flowers I viewed and inhaled their exquisite fragrance in the Valley of flowers’ adjacent to Himalaya peaks near ever flowing Ganges. In his poems nature is regarded as the great kindler of desire. His Sindhi usage is simple, musical and direct which is spoken in the towns and villages of Sindh. He is trying to live there according to his creed: that of love for humanity, and Sindh. This notion is quite transparent from his voluminous poetical works. His non-specific or allegorical pieces appear as the sparks that ascend from time to time out of the matrix of his humanistic and humane concerns. He, I fear, is destined to pay with his life for his poetry. His end looming overhead seems to me endless; because, malice of this city grows no less. They strive, and are intent to brand him eternally. He is the poetic voice of aspiring youth in the present abnormal conditions of’ disillusionment’ and ‘thaw’. His genuine idealism and his passionate espousal of the human side of human nature cannot be denied. He is, basically, a revolutionary romantic and has transmuted suffering of Sind into a universal image. Most of his contemporary poets (say Ayaz) used to look to ‘love’ for inspiration but, he looks to ‘inspiration’ for love -and struggling in an uneasy world for creativity in an altogether an alienating environment. He has fully learnt to see himself and the world of toil and torment in an autumnal nakedness when, he and the world around becomes transparent. His ‘insight’ has firmly taken roots, and has born out of ‘silence’; calmly shedding all noise in the name of new leaves, buds, and flowers. Ultimately these, piling on each other, silently become ‘soil and his inner autumn, devoid of passion, touches his brow with airy fingers. Keeping faith with truth, however quietly, needs spirit. His love, seems me, is for ever, for all human beings, to the ruinous ancient mounds scattered all over the length and breath of Sind, to the torn wound of us all, and to the ‘line’ unfinished. One must live- neither boozing, the rope ( which Mayakovsky used) nor company of women can rescue us, only our mother land-Sind-gives hope; only devotion and sincerity, my friend, can save us. It is really amazing to find him, in these un-airy conditions, living with those are ‘dead’, and those not yet ‘alive’. At present chaotic times, and in this forlorn ‘soil’ a great quickening of the human mind is discernable, and artistic impulse, dipped in these painful un-assuaging moments, creating pulsating works of poesy and prose- in classical and modern forms, full of cries of protest, outbursts against injustice both in softer and strong artistic tones- cannot perish. Taj Baloch is one of lone bare-footed travelers on this hell-fire path. Though he is not indeed prodigy of learning, like Tagore in Bengal or D.D. Kosambi in Maharashtra or Ayaz in Smdh, yet no man could write as he does without hard and intelligent study. He has a minutely accurate knowledge of the Sindhi language and literature. Every literati, particularly poet, composing in any language, writes in what may be called a strange idiom; that he does-not write as he talks. Yet it is true that the gap between written language and vernacular has remained wider every where. He has not only deeply sipped from written books- there are a few souls, who walked ‘rural and urban’ mother earth of ours, observed the phenomena of living nature as accurately as he’, though his accuracy is of course that of the poet, not that of the scientist. He is, with a sharp eye and open mind, moving among all human beings (inclusive of creatures and natural world) with sympathy for all, fanaticism for none. I am justified in concluding that he is, in matters of religion and culture, what William James would call” healthy-minded”, emphatically not a “sick soul”. There are certain other impressions of his vibrant life and personality which gradually become convictions in the mind of one who reads and re-reads his poetry, though they are less easily susceptible of exact proof. One thing more that he possesses fascination for ‘beauty’ in all forms, as it or……. In turn fascinates him. Such men are never fully appreciated during life. They continue to grow after they are dead. Speaking of Ayaz and Taj is more laconic in this alliterative line: Ayaz is mirth, melody, music. Taj is grace, gloom, grief. He courageously preserves his intellectual’ balance at arts, and also his intuitive initiative. The best proof of a poet’s greatness is the inability of men/ women to live without him. He is primarily a poet of both human heart, and of natural beauty. These two characteristics unite in him. Both are interwoven with human feeling. So exquisitely this amalgamation has been accomplished that none can say which ‘phase’ of him is superior. Though his poetical fluency is not rare: like wise intellectual grasp is not very uncommon: but the ‘harmonious combination’ is at the other end of the world: RARETY in its bare, bosomy and beautiful form! Total effect left is one of extraordinary success and delicacy of taste. Though ‘renaissance’ in Sindh seems to be a far away shadow but, it is interesting to observe that the Indian mythical ‘sea whirling’ coincides with present Intellectual fomentation’ which may perhaps helps to usher in ‘light’ in this unfortunate land of ours. “By poetry”, says Macaulay,” we mean the art of employing words in such a manner as to produce an illusion on the imagination, the art of doing by means of words what the painter does by means of colors.” This production of an illusion of the imagination enables the reader of poetry to get pleasure from” the rhythmic creation of beauty”. Poet can express his ideas artistically in two ways: either by keeping him- self aloof from the subject-matter of his poetry or receiving inspiration from his own experiences, thought and feelings. The first kind,”…………is the poetry in which the poet goes out of him self, mingles with the action and passion of the world without, and deals with what he discovers there with little reference to his own individuality”. And in the second, he ‘goes down into himself and finds inspiration from his subjects in his own experiences, thoughts and feelings. Lyric comes under this second category of poetry. There are different views and definition of lyrical poetry but, everyone has accepted the fundamental quality of lyric to be its music. Taj’s major part of poetic creation, almost in all forms, pervades in the lyrical plane. His lyricism clearly embodies three major elements which are supposedly considered to be its ‘soul’: a strong imagination, strong feelings, and emotion and music. These touch all aspects of his experience inclusive of boundless love for humanity, and Sindh. Besides these elements there is much more, “its simple language and imagery characterised not only by beauty and vividness but also by propriety, or the harmony which in all art is required between the subject and its medium.” His glory as a poet lies in the gift of his extra ordinary sensibility and his power to express it in artistic and musical language. He has subdued every poetic element to a harmony of a artistic perfection. Taj gives (in his work) individual expression, the beauty of form to a body of common sentiments and thoughts which he shares with all of us. These thoughts also have for his generation the-validity of Universal truths. In these thoughts intense emotion coupled with an intense display of imagery supports and feeds new literature i.e. romantic element. Though it is considered to be ‘subjective’ type of poetry with its emotional fervor, appetite for experience, escapism of one or another kind and freedom from the shackles of tradition (in the choice of theme, in the use words, in rhyme, in meter etc) this revolution in poetics could easily be perceived from his such poems. He clearly and curiously stands out romanticizing with ‘body’ nature, fragrance, freedom, and liberty; discarding smelly rules, conventions- and present leprosy- ridden political scenario. As a poet overwhelming consciousness is his hallmark. His poetry is imbibed with vision, lucidity, clarity and courage- it is a continuous process. Certainly his poetical creations will fully be recognized throughout Sindh for not only the intensity of their ‘poetical charm’ but many versified pieces are attired in colorful ‘proverbial forms’. And in between patriotic and cultural expression it is an added factor. These verses are deceptively simple in their surface beauty, infused with a wealth of meaning, in modern and traditional idiom; imbedded in them are structurally intricate forms and concepts drawn from various levels of healthy Sindhi literary tradition, and global progressive literary movements in whose centre survival and progress of human kind is basic concept. In poetic world ‘theoretical ideal’ is that an isolated verse, stanza should be appreciated on its own merit without any larger context- and there could be found scattered many verses, stanzas in his poems having varying and different forms, meanings. There could be seen abundant detail and complexity of thought compressed into a simple metrical pattern. This miniature context is enriched at some places by rhetorical ornamentation. The figures of speech commonly employed include many subtle varieties of metaphor simile, allegory, hyperbole, irony and sarcasm. When words and images rich with connotations are used, they create multiple layer of meaning and thus intensify the aesthetic mood of the poem. The notion of ‘sentiment’ or mood or taste’ or ‘flavor’ is at the heart of Sindhi poetry. Taj Baloch distills essential qualities from spontaneous emotion, and structures them in order to awaken an aesthetic response in his audience of connoisseurs. In classical Sindhi poetry (Shah, Sachal, Sami) new ideas, imagery, and techniques were as important as are today along with skillful manipulation of conventional language as is today. Some stanzas in poems possess amazing depth and intensity precisely because Taj Baloch considers, as I perceive, the confusion, longing, pain, and ephemeral pleasure of love to be at the centre of human existence, implicit in any account of man’s condition. I have enjoyed the sensuous nuances of the changing natural world (rural and urban) evoked in some of his poems which convey human dispositions. Taj expresses, like Byron, Shelly, Ayaz, Josh, and Mustafa Zaidi, emotion amidst a multiplicity of sensuous qualities (colors, tastes, textures, scents, sounds), and especially in his romantic verses, and he tends to luxuriate in the richness which, both nature and body provides. He rather exerts to compress the profusion of its qualities into a flavor, into a thick emotion-laden atmosphere. This compactness of qualities resides in ‘Eros and nature’ which, ultimately evoke passion in men/women. That quiet beauty of rural experience in combination with urban raw. ruthless and cruel surroundings provided him an environment conducive to rumination and natural spontaneity from whose womb lithe, mermaid-like verses were flowing shapely (having meaning, purpose, content, and devoid of any abstract absurdity) with infinite touch, color, and fragrance in all forms and hues. In his aesthetic consciousness the elements of sensuous experience mixed with natural environment (hostile or humble) are always present, no matter how transfigured. He is expressing a concern, in all his creative works, with salvation (material) which is the motivating force behind his ‘thought’. There is uniqueness in the unorthodox juxtaposition of ideas to reinforce both the poet’s own sense of suffering and his unflinching desire to engage in fight with ‘HUMAN DIRT’, till last sip of his life. Some times I felt and deduced his poetry being an intricate web of conflicting moments and attractions. It is beautiful and pleasurable, but beauty becomes bitter when he feels staggering weight of ruthless, deaf, numb, ‘time’ and its capricious nature which suffocates him- and he witnesses his own absurd position in it. At this juncture he flares up, becomes an urchin, and for time being losses his balance. This curious and unpleasant behavior ought, and must be condoned. Present Sindh is passing through a period of unprecedented turmoil vulgarity and farce. Here hatred and contempt are considered as forms of amusement. Its existence is at stake. From times since prehistory this land of ‘love and peace’ never ever confronted such wrathful spectre. Karachi being its centre, radiating poisonous fumes, unabatedly. And here creative souls, such as Taj Baloch are waging unstopped war, almost single-handedly, to save ‘honour and existence’ of their mother-land in different ‘idiom’. Penetrating eye could sift it from his poetical works. Passionate lovers of ‘fine styles’ always expose themselves to the contempt of pedestrians, and Taj Baloch is not the only one. Even then he could be seen extracting ‘good’ from the ‘evil’ With this single stroke of ‘strange idiom’ he has both won and deserved the glory. This uneven product (as stupidity claims) of the ‘muse of burning Sindh’ enlivens again, dares once more to face the profound darkened face of stupidity. This Lilliputian character really amazes me: he enjoys hatred, and glorified by contempt. Before him Baudelaire, Firaq, Byron, Manto, Sappho, Hafiz Sheikh and many others passed through this, so called, eclipsing phase- and now are acclaimed and placed at the pedestal of ‘value and wisdom’. Perfection of style and rhythm and refinement of sound and cadence of his is such many contemporaries of him are not capable. He witnesses in established institutions, dictators/feudals turned politicians, and politicians turned rakes and mullas, all the diverse forms of evil and obstacles to happiness and progress in the same manner as much before him Shelly saw, and viewed same DIRT in his era. At the end of these closing words, suddenly a white gleam descended from coffins of yore buried nowhere. I would like you be witness to its glare: ORPHEUS IN TATTERS Who is he, this passer-by? Crank, philosopher, wanderer, fool? The man in shaggy paint, in a torn greasy coat Shuffles along the crowded street. What thoughts, views, revelations? Clearly, he has great schemes in mind. How scared he is of human contact, The clumsy touch of other men. His mission is to engage us all In single combat, but he is so made, A mere piece of grit casually blown Off your sleeve might strike him dead
By: Shyam Kumar
Posted in Articles In English
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