If Faiz Ahmed Faiz were with us today, in our midst, he’d have been 100. The poet-in-exile’s work urges us to think and act, making him an inspirational torchbearer and a champion of liberal causes
“Jo rukey toh koh-e-garaan the hum, jo chale toh jaan se guzar gaye
Raah-e-yaar humne qadam qadam, tujhe yaadgar banaa diyaa.”
It’s only fair, justifiably appropriate to invoke a Faiz Ahmed Faiz verse, which seems to have somehow captured and pre-empted its author’s increased posthumous fame, when one is writing about the Sialkot-born poet. If Faiz were alive today, he’d have been hundred, still smoking, reading out his precious poems sloppily at a gathering, as if struck by divine confidence that they will touch every heart no matter how he recites them, and inordinately dismayed, secretly in tears, at the state of his beloved country today.
Faiz, for me, alongside his idol Ghalib and fellow Pakistani Iqbal (some would question why Mir doesn’t figure here.. Mir is unquestionably an ustad and his contribution can never be doubted. In a way, Mir is like Titian, the sun among the stars, in a league of his own), forms the holy trinity of Urdu poetry, exerting the sort of influence that Michelangelo, Da Vinci and Raphael did in art.
All three, in my opinion – and I believe it matches with that of most of the Urdu-lovers – have championed a different form of poetry, different in both style and subject matter. If Ghalib’s work represents profound philosophy and Iqbal’s, bursting with religious connotations, Faiz’s poetry expresses his political, social and humanistic concerns.
But far more than that, he was a romantic of the first order. Some of his poems, such as Mujhse Pehli Si Mohabbat, Shaam-e-Firaaq and I’d say even Mauzu-e-Sukhan, are written with the feelings and touch of an ill-fated, dreamy-eyed lover undergoing pangs of separation.
What Faiz’s poems mean to me is very difficult to express; not a day passes without reciting them. I ensure his poetry collection is always handy, easy to reach when I need him, at any point of the day, especially in rough moments when life looks down, things don’t work out and you begin to doubt your skills more than you celebrate them.
One such life-giving verse is…
Dil na-ummeed toh nahin, naaqaam hi to hai
Lambi hai gham ki shaam magar sham hi to hai…
If Dev Anand’ life philosophy is Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya, mine is the above-mentioned, so simple, so life-affirming in its message; it abidingly lifts you, making you believe in fate and faith all over again.
When I went abroad last year and found myself alone, in a land where I didn’t know a soul, one of Faiz’s poems, though he imputed it to his own homeland, came to my rescue. You may not believe it when I say this but every single day, for about a week, I’d read, rather religiously, ‘Dayar-e-ghair mein mehram agar nahin koi. Toh Faiz zikr-e-watan apne rubaru hi sahi.’ (In this abode of strangers, if no confidant exists, then Faiz let the invocation of homeland be with yourself). It offered me comfort, a sense of solace.
In the same breath, I also admit that it was Ghalib, among the Urdu poets, who I first fell in love with. It took me many years to emerge out of Asadullah Baig Khan’s influence and it was Faiz who helped me in my efforts as he became a worthy alternative. Shortly thereafter, Faiz held sway, dominating and taking over Ghalib. And then came a point in my life when I realised Faiz and Ghalib are equals, both unshakeably great in their writing, thoughts and ideas and that both could operate successfully within their space without harming or striking out one another.
Of all things, I love the way Faiz describes moon (even the distant skies and stars) and he does so variously. There’s only one moon and the Communist poet’s evocations of it, many and manifold, in several of his poems, are poignant. Sure, Faiz is not the first or the only poet to do so, to call it his invention would be entirely wrong but the way he does it, examples of which I’ll list out, he makes you believe, he convinces you that he owns it. That God has given him license, the poetic license, to write about His beloved creations.
In Shaam-e-Firaaq, Faiz characterises moon as painful with this plain but effective line, ‘Dard ka chand bujh gaya, hijr ki raat dhal gayee.’ In Tanhai, he writes, ‘Dhal chuki raat, bikharne lagaa taaron ka gubar,’ whereas in one of his most popular poems, Subh-e-Azadi, he makes note of the last destination of the stars, ‘Falak ke dasht mein taaron ki aakhri manzil.’
In a way, Faiz is a polemicist who goes against the popular definitions of Nature, in this case the moon, and instead of calling it beautiful or making it sound romantic he remonstrates with the usual descriptions. By defying convention, Faiz invented an entirely original form of poetry which sparkles with the most original ideas and thoughts.
I’m a writer and I paint and there’s a Faiz line, taken from Mauzu-e-Sukhan, which seems to be custom-written for us, people who are in the business of ideas and creativity; you can set it as a ring tone of your life. These are the lines..
Apne afkaar ki aashar ki duniya hai yehi
Jaan-e-mazmun hai yehi, shahid-e-maana hai yehi.
(This is the world of my thoughts, my verses
This is the only soul of my existence, this is my darling theme)
Apna mauzu-e-sukhan inken siwa aur nahin
Tab’ba shayar ka watan inken siwa aur nahin.
(My theme of poetry is nothing except these
The land of the poet is nowhere but this)
Honestly, if I didn’t have Faiz’s poetry at my bedside, if I hadn’t applied Dil na-ummeed… to my life and hadn’t sought inspiration from it, I wouldn’t have stood upright each time I fell.
To Faiz, that fierce Marxist, that defender of progressive causes, that adventurous wanderer, that poet-writer magnifico, I owe a fresh outpouring of faith in art and life.
Those new to Faiz’s poetry, the best way to get introduced to the master’s work is by reading some of his most popular poems, including Subh-e-Azadi, Mujhse Pehli Si Mohabbat, Bol, Mere Humdum Mere Dost and Nisaar Main Teri Galiyon Ke. These are the easier ghazals; as you progress you can opt for the more difficult ones. I haven’t studied Urdu and at times, even I don’t understand some of Faiz’s verses. As Dilip Kumar had remarked, “Sometimes I find it difficult
to understand Faiz’s perspective. But he’s a master.. unke kuch pehluon par hamari nazar nahin padti.’ You can watch the Dilipsaab video on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ka4SmHIo7E
Also, you can check out Abida Parveen’s recitals of Faiz’s poetry. Those interested can buy VG Kiernan’s translation of his work, titled Poems by Faiz.. published by Oxford.
