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Poems of Nazir Akbarabadi (Translated in English)

Monday, May 31st, 2010

An eyeless fakir was once asked:
Of what stuff are the moon and stars
The fakir smiled and shook his head:
God bless you, sir, the answer is only bread.
For, the poor know no planets, no stars
The thought of food our vision mars
When the belly is empty, nothing feels good
No taste for pleasure, only a craving for some food.
The hungry cannot commune with God nor live the pious way.
Bread alone inspires him to worship and to pray.

It’s for food that some go strangely dressed.
Some won’t bathe and let their hair grow unchecked.
Another wears a kerchief tied around his head:
All clever stratagems, all tricks are only for bread!

Only the poor know the pain of poverty
The poor know no politeness or formality
They fall upon food with uninhibited alacrity
Risking their lives for a piece of loaf
And fighting like dogs over every bone.
They become so mean and selfish in adversity.
Only the poor know the pain of poverty!

Distinguished scholars, of themselves so sure,
Lose their confidence on becoming poor.
Confused with hunger, they often see
Day as night and A as B.
As for those who tutor poor men’s wards,
They find survival particularly hard.
They’re stuck forever in dire adversity.
Only the poor know the pain of poverty!

However good a man, but if he is poor,
He often is insulted and called a fool, a boor.
Clothes torn, hair unkempt, unoiled,
Mouth parched, grimy teeth, body badly soiled.
Ugly and grim are the faces of poverty.
Only the poor know the pain of poverty!

Milkmaids away, the little fellow had a field day.
He stole into houses like a thief much skilled.
Climbed on a cot and brought down the pot
That with cream or butter was freshly filled.
He ate some and wasted some,
And some he simply spilled.

Fabulous were Krishna’s childhood days.
So many tales of his naughty ways!

Caught redhanded by a returning maid,
He looked innocent and sweetly said:
I wasn’t trying to steal from you!
Believe you me, it’s really true!
Shooing off flies, keeping out ants,
Is all I was trying to do!

Fabulous were Krishna’s childhood days.
So many tales of his naughty ways!

Women together marched up to Jasoda, his mother:
We’ve come to complain about Kanha, none other!
He breaks our pots, he calls us names.
And when we catch him, it’s us he blames!
Whatever he says whatever he claims,
You have to stop his naughty games!

Fabulous were Krishna’s childhood days.
So many tales of his naughty ways!

Jasoda’s response was sharp and quick
She turned to Krishna and picked up a stick
Feigning innocence he pleaded his case:
Mother these charges are false and base.
In spite of this, if you insist
Your punishment I am ready to face.

Fabulous were Krishna’s childhood days.
So many tales of his naughty ways!

Once caught by Jasoda with his mouth full of butter
He widened his eyes and smiled at his mother
She wasn’t amused and made him sit
She opened his mouth and peered into it
What she saw was a vision, a miracle to wit,
It showed the whole universe brightly lit.

Fabulous were Krishna’s childhood days.
So many tales of his naughty ways!

Indian Poet Nazeer Akbarabadi

Friday, May 28th, 2010

Nazeer Akbarabadi was an Indian poet of 18^th century who wrote many Urdu Ghazals and nazams under nom de plume (Takhallus) “Nazeer”. His father name was Muhammad Farooq and his mother was the daughter of Nawab Sultan Khan who was governor of Agra Fort. Agra is an Indian city which was known as Akbarabad after Mughal emporer Akbar at that time. Nazeer Akbarabai was born in Delhi in 1735 AD his date of birth is not certain it is only an estimation of biographers. His era of birth accompanied with the decline of Mughal Empire in India. In 1739 when Nazeer was still a child Nadir Shah attacked Delhi and Muhammad Shah Rangeela was arrested. He was later released but countless people cruelly killed in Delhi.

The antipathy of this plunder were still fresh in the minds of people when after 18 years in 1757 AD, Ahmad Shah Abdali attacked Delhi. People left Delhi to save their lives and moves toward safer cities. Nazeer was also migrated from Delhi along his mother and grandmother to Akbarabad. At this time he was 80 years old. Poetic treasure of Nazeer Akbarabadi consisted of about 200,000 verses but unfortunately a bigger portion of his poetry was destroyed and only 6000 verses are available in printed form. No other Urdu poet in the history used as many words as Nazeer did. Nazeer’s poetry conveyed dilemma of common people in his own language and his poetry is very popular among people.

His poetic treasure has some immortal poems like “Banjara Nama”, “Kaljug nahin karjug hai yeh”, “Aadmi Naama” (Chronicle of man) etc. These poems are also in school text books and anticipating fans of Urdu poetry will not fail to recognize the glory of Nazeer’s verse. He was purely a people’s poet and his nazams reflects various aspects of daily life of his era. He wrote on all types of religious and social events with all minor details in which common people can be seen laughing, singing, teasing and playing. He wrote nazams on various social festivals like “Diwali, Holi, Eid, Shab-e-baraat” and about animals, birds, seasons and even on inanimate objects like “paisa, rupaiaa, rotiyaan, aata-daal (flour and lentils), pankha (fan), and kakrhi (a kind of cucumber)”.

He also wrote nazams about different aspects of human life like “muflisi” (Poverty) and “kohrinamah” (Chronicle of leper). Nazeer Akbarabadi died in 1830 AD at the age of 98.

Poem of Nazeer Akbarabadi

Money is what the rich desire
Money is what the poor require
Of power and glory money is the sire
It makes the world spin and go haywire