Nukhbah Taj Langah, Poetry as Resistance: Islam and Ethnicity in Postcolonial Pakistan, New Delhi, Routledge India, 2011.
“Focusing on the culturally and historically rich Siraiki-speaking region, often tagged as ‘South Punjab’, this book discusses the ways in which Siraiki creative writers have transformed into political activists, resisting the self-imposed domination of the Punjabi–Mohajir ruling elite. Influenced Continue reading Book: Poetry, Islam and Ethnicity in Postcolonial Pakistan
The works of Miyun Shah Inat (c. 1623-1712), not to be confused with Shah Inayat of Jhok, can be seen as a bridge between the pioneers of Sufi poetry in Sindhi, like Qadi Qazan or Shah Abd al-Karim, and the classical poetry of Shah Abd al-Latif. He used folktale heroines to symbolize the quest of the soul for God. He also addressed the issue of jogis as models of renunciation. His kalam was published by N. B. Baloch in 1963 but his verses were first translated into English by Ghulam Ali Allana (d. 1984).
Behold the flushes of fire,
Aroused by the Yogis and their ire,
They, in the darkness of the night,
Betook themselves to flight.
How can I of their love speak publicly,
Which to me they entrusted secretly?
Throughout the night I weep,
And in my heart their remembrance keep.
Insatiable is their greed,
Which in their hearts they feed.
They beg from country to country,
These Yogis with blankets heavy.
Where others feel uneasy,
There the Yogis rest easy.
Ram, the Lord, they entreat,
As begs the lotus sweet.
“I trust in God,” say and repeat,
These words repeat, these words sweet.
Listen the Sayed say “O Sanyasi,
Learn to master that mystery.
O yogis, from your heart efface
Scepticism that within yourself you face,
Learn to practice what you preach,
Then from love learn to beseech.”
Inat says the rains have arrived,
And the river’s tributaries are flooded.
The grass has sprouted in abundance,
Of every kind, hue and refulgence.
O Lord, end my days of imprisonment,
You are the Mighty, the Omnipotent.
O Lord, let those days arrive,
I see my family members and thrive.
Source: G. Allana, 1983, Four classical poets of Sindh, Jamshoro, Insittue of Sindhology, University of Sindh, pp. 12-15.
We wish to introduce new Sindhi poetry through excerpts of the risâlo of Shâh `Abd al-Karîm (1536-1624). He was the grand-father of Shâh `Abd al-Lâtif (1689-1752), the famous author of Shâh jo risâlo. Shâh `Abd al-Karîm lived in the village of Bulri, not far from Thatta. The risâlo is made of 92 baits which are one of the oldest samples of Sufi poetry in Sindhi. It was published and translated into English by Motilal Jotwani in 1979, in a booklet entitled Shah Abdul Karim – a mystic of Sind (New Delhi, Rajesh Publications) and reprinted by Sindhi Kitab Ghar and Indus Publications in 1986. The baits deal here with the Sufi concept of wahdat-e wujûd:
The Beloved has a way
unheard of and unknown,
Utter bewilderment
is the lover’s fate.
He Himself is the king,
And Himself the envoy sent,
He Himself receives the envoy
and accredits Himself.
Those for whom we yearn
are none but we ourselves;
Now, O Doubt! be gone,
We recognise the Beloved.
You were created
out of nothing;
What does your saying “I” mean,
When you are nothing still?
You live in “Nought but God”;
be not away one moment from Him;
Man is God’s manifestation,
why break this whole in parts?
He guides us to the Fount of Light,
to Himself,
So to our source we all return,
Hold fast to this root of the matter.
Shâh `Abd al-Lâtif Bithai was born in Hala. During his lifetime, he saw the decline of the Mughal empire, and the invasions of Nâdir Shâh and Ahmad Shâh Durrânî. According to tradition, he always kept three books with him: the Quran, the risâlo of Shâh Karîm, and the Mathnawî of Rûmî. It is said he visited many sanctuaries, including Hindu ones in the company of wandering ascetics (jogis) probably from Nathpanthi persuasion. Following Shâh Karîm’s steps, but writing in a more common language though hardly understandable for Sindhis today, Shâh Lâtif uses the folktales of Sindh for depicting the quest of the human soul toward God.
The ascetics, handsome and enlightning, the
world over roam;
None of them has any place his home.
Those of them that kindle Love’s fire,
Without their company, I can not live.
The horns the ascetics blow produce ecstatic
sound;
They are more precious then treasures in
palaces found.
Pure gold are their horns, their possessions all;
Do not them devoid of wealth call.
You must feel yourself as reassured,
Perchance, this company may have this place
renounced;
« Let us go », they may have pronounced.
Without their company, I can not live.
The ascetics their « Ego » gather,
And set it to fire altogether.
The ascetics their « Ego » squeeze,
And devour it as they please.
Those that across the ocean to safety lead,
Without their company, I can not live.
As their dwellings I am beholding,
There arises within my heart a longing.
Not yet over is this morning,
So, the ascetics are not yet their music playing.
Those, who follow the Path of submission to
God,
Without their company, I can not live.
Source: G. Allana, Selections from the Risalo, Education Department, Government of Sind, Karachi, no date.