Kevin D. Carignan 
Moonsmith Gulzar: Orbiting Famous Words
By Shailja Chandra
Hawakal Publishers
p.p. 152, Rs 450
The ability to share vulnerabilities gives Gulzar’s voice a rare authenticity and persuasiveness. This gives him rare authority to write about our common existence, our Sanjha Rishta.
Simple jab tak saamne waale ghar kii battii jaltii hai, we ghar kii saarii parchhaiya’n merii deewaar by padti hai’n – hamaaraa rishtaa to waisaa hai….sanjhaa rishtaa hai! (As long as the light is on in the house across the street, its shadows keep moving on the wall of my house – it’s the nature of our kinship…it’s a shared bond.)
In an interview, when the suggestion was made that his method of release relies on individuality, the angst was evident in Gulzar’s voice:
Kaise’s individuality? Does individuality bother me? Mai’n jalte shehar me baiTha shaayar iis se zyaadaa kare bhii kyaa? Jab wo kahta hai to wo poore shehar kii baat kar rahaa hai – to wo akela raastaa nahii’n Dhoond rahaa hai akele ke liye, wo Poore samaaj kii baat kar rahaa hai”…” Khoon dekh kar Taap ke door ho jaataa hoo’n ….nau-gyaarah kii gaadi pakadni hai…mai’n aisaa behis huaa hoo’n…” “mai’n apne akele kii baat to nahi’n kar rahaa hoo’n – mai’n us Poore samaaj kii baat kar rahaa hoo ‘n, jise mai’n dekh rahaa hoo’n…” (Rajaya Sabha TV, 2012) (How? How “in the individuality”? What more can I do, me, a poet in a city in flames? all society… “Seeing blood, I jump to distance myself… I gotta catch the 9-11 train…that I’ve gone numb.” So, I’m not just talking about myself – I’m talking about the whole society I observe.)
I had to rewind this part several times and the question that kept running through my head was: Writing with intimacy and writing about the collective, are they mutually exclusive? Going to Boskiyana in 2012, I knew this had to be at the top of my list – the subject of the collective Vs. individual:
Kyaa muktii akele nahi’n paayii jaa saktii? I ask him. Can’t we get salvation on our own?
Hmm…akele bhii payii jaa saktii hai, aur aapke saath jo ju’D jaaye’n unhe’n bhii mil jaayegii. Hey naa? Haa’n…wo itnaa akelaa bhii nahi’n hai…itnaa akelaa bhii nahi’n hai. (Hmm…we can, and those who join you will get it too. Right? Yes…we’re not so alone…not so alone.)
Indeed, it is an intriguing paradox that the more Gulzar imbues his words with intimacy and vulnerability, the more his voice becomes universal and collective.
No, they are not mutually exclusive!
Khoon dekh kar Taap ke door ho jaataa hoo’n….
Nau-gyaarah kii gaaDi pakaDni hai…
mai’n aisaa behis huaa hoo’n
(“Seeing blood, I jump to get away….
I have to take the 9-11 train…
That I have become numb”).
Such private and intimate reflection is indeed the genesis of any meaningful relationship with the collective. Without perceiving pain on a personal level, it is not possible to write authentically about the collective. Without it, only superficial pity or preaching can be expressed, not the tenderness and tenderness conveyed by these lines:
kooe’n ke aas paas ab kuchh nahii’n hai
zaraa se faasle by ik puranaa ped jaamun kaa
ab us by phal nahii’n aate
……
..wo to keh gaii thii, ke phir se louTegii
mai’n chhoDe hue kooe’n kii maanind wahii’n Thehraa huaa hoo’n
utarne lag gayaa hoo’n, khushk hotaa jaa rahaa hoo’n!
(Now there’s nothing left around the well
Just a jamun tree, a little distance away,
It no longer bears fruit.
….
When she left she said she would be back
Like the abandoned well, I wait
Begins to ebb
Shrinking day by day.)
Only a native voice can be devoid of superficial pity or preaching. Only an indigenous voice can ennoble and dignify shared existence. Such a “native” remains eternally in the voice of Gulzar.
Give voice to the invisible and the unheard
Fall colors surround my street for several weeks between May and July. During these weeks, I find the imagery of Gulzar everywhere – on the auburn branches and the fallen ocher-bronze foliage. Even real, living, breathing, falling leaves don’t seem as alive, vibrant and fruitful as his words:
Khizaan jhaaDan liye patte giraatii phir rahii hai kyoo’n, darakhto’n se
Khizaa’n ko kyaa huaa?
Wo bouraaii huii phirtii hai, jaise piile patto’n by
likhii koi ibaarat hai,
MiTaanaa chaahtii hai… (‘Green Poems’, p 106)
(With a feather duster in hand, why is autumn busy mopping the leaves?
What happened to him ?
Crazy, it’s rushing
Like there’s something written on the yellow sheets
That he must erase!)
Autumn feather duster in hand and the ancestral jungles; the old rivers and those rowdy clouds; the magic earth and the allergic sky of September; or the February frost and the aging tree at the crossroads – each of these animated depictions of Gulzar seem to carry nature’s fruitful life energy and its capacity for healing and transformation.
His imagery, just like nature, is fresh, fertile, untied – never stale. We feel as invigorated by his lyrics as we feel amid the haze of Sanobars or soaked in the sonorous sound of an exuberant dariya.
Waqt ne apnaa rukh badlaa aur…
Parbat-parbat paa’nv rakhtaa neeche utraa
Raat kii god me shaam paDii thii
Dariyaa lipTaa huaa khaDaa tha peepal se
Aur pahaD ke seee par, pahlii-pahlii ghaas ugee thi! (Neglected Poems, p 30)
(And time has changed its course…
Descend the mountains
He descended
Twilight lay in the lap of night
The river stood intertwined with the peepal
And on the mountain chest the very first grass had grown!)
Dhundhle dhundhle ‘drawing book’ me’n bane hue kuchh
charcoal ke khaake se,
Kohare me’n kirdaar ye pedo’n ke kitne achchhe lagte hai’n…
… ‘RK Laxman’ ke cartoono’n ke kirdaar,
Shaayad ud kar jhaadiyo’n me’n jaa atke hai’n
Havaa kaa jho’nkaa chhootaa hai, to the role badal jaate hai’nin kirdaaro’n ke
Poshaake’n badal kar louT aate hai’n (‘Green Poems’, p 28)
(such as discoloration, blurry lines
Charcoal portraits in a sketchbook
How beautiful the profiles of these trees are in the fog.
Recalling RK Laxman’s cartoons,
Only takes flight to get stuck in bushes.
A gust of wind can change the profile of these characters
They can come back with a change of clothes).
I long to reach out and touch the young ground cover on this mountain’s broad chest and my time-limited train journey to work is lively and deepened by encountering RK Laxman’s cartoons in the bushes at Lane Cove National Park…
His anthropomorphic work is a truly distinctive and remarkable treatise for the collective. His imagery is not just about humanizing nature, trees and valleys into charming, spirited figures. His complex and piercing attention also unveils the invisible, unheard-of and untouched dimensions of nature’s many imperceptible phenomena. And for that, his images seem whole, real!
The qualities that really separate Gulzar’s voice from other anthropomorphic works seem to be the result of the following:
1) He can perceive the cycles of nature coinciding with the cycles of life, day, night; or how imperceptibly, subtly, the soul and the body of nature change with the cycles of seasonality:
Darakht sochte hai’n jab, to phool aate hai’n
Wo dhoop me Dubo ke ungliyaan
Khyaal likhte hai’n lachakti shakho’n by
To ring rang lafz chunte hai’n
Khushbuo’n se bolte hai’n aur bulaate hai’n…(‘Green Poems’, p 18)
(When the trees stop to reflect, the flowers bloom
Dip their fingers in the sun
They write their thoughts on swaying branches
Choose their words in different color hues
They converse with the perfumes and call us to them.)
2) He not only perceives the fiery state of nature’s mute limbs, but in deep silence he also listens to the restless rustles and ripples of trees and rivers – touching eternal truth and trust in the ancient laws of life they hold for, high and deep:
Khiza’n darwaaze ke baahar khaDii thii
Abhii paushaak se pattaa koii udhDa nahi’n tha
Sunharii surkh hone lag gaye the paw zard
Sabhii ke kaan ‘Gautam Buddh’ jaise lambe lambe
Bas ik awaaz ke sab muntzir le
‘Chalo ab chhoDo shaakhe’n,
Tyaag do bandhan
Sabaa lekar nijaat ab aa rahii hai!! (‘Green Poems’, p 104)
(Autumn was standing right outside the door
No leaf had yet deserted the clothes of the season
With yellowing leaves turning to burnished gold
Their ears were elongated like that of Gautam Buddha
To hear this call:
‘Come, leave these branches
Break your ties
The wind is coming for your release!’)
3) He whispers to their deepest vulnerabilities, scars, fears and troubles as their flows collide with the growth cycles of developing civilization:
Raat kii khamoshi me lekin Thimphu Chhu
Kuch jaap kiyaa kartii ho tum
Wo kyaa hai?
Saagar sangam kahtii ho yaa
Phente jaane se bachne kii —
Chupchaap duaaye’n kartii ko? (‘Green Poems’, p 26)
(In the silence of the night
There is something you sing Thimphu Chhu
What is that?
Do you talk about your desire to merge with the ocean
Or pray quietly
That you are spared the prospect of being whipped?)
Can the pathos of the Thimpu Chuu river find a more poignant and persuasive voice than this, and Wadi-e-Kashmir?
Gulzar’s humanizing depictions have earned him rare authenticity and authority in reminding mankind to re-establish nature’s role as tribal leader, eternal teacher or ancient guardian of truth and values - much like the reminder in these lines:
Mother Sanobaar dekho
kitne ooncheoonche qad hai’n unke
Tum se saat gunaa to ho’nge (shayad dus ya baarah guna hon’n)
Umre’n dekho uskii tum,
kitnii badii hai’n (sadiyo’n zindaa rahte hai’n)
Kah dete ho kahne ko tum
Lekin apne bado’n kii izzat karte nahi’n tum
(Isliye tum logo’n ke qad…
itne chhote rah jaate hai’n) (‘Green Poems’, p 128)
(Look at my pines, how high they go
They must be at least ten or twelve times your size
Look at their age, how much older they are
You say it for fun
But, in reality, you do not respect your elders!
That’s why your waists…stay so stunted.)
(An excerpt from ‘The Moonsmith Gulzar’ by Shailja Chandra, courtesy of the author)
(All translations from the ‘Green Poems and Neglected Poems’ collection © Pavan K. Varma. Other translations by Shailja Chandra, writer, radio host and sustainability practitioner based in Sydney, Australia. Twitter @ShailjaChandra)
