Guest Post by Naveed E.
Perveen Shakir died young. Her legend lives on.
She is arguably the most popular poetess of the literary history of Pakistan. She expressed the sensibilities of young lovelorn girl with the innocence of a girl next door and innovation of an adept poet. Her romantic poems and ghazals stirred the sentiments of youthful readers.
She enlivened the tales and traditions of love in a manner that her first book “Khushbooà¢ÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â‚¬Å¡Ã‚¬Ã‚? met an instant and incredible success. Within a span of seventeen years she wrote three more books of poetry, titled, “Sud Bergâ€Â?, “Khud Kalamieâ€Â? and “Inkarâà ¢â€šÂ¬Ã‚?.
“Barish Ki Nazmein� are very sentimental poems from “Sud Berg�.
On a rainy night, while posted in a far flung area of Pakistan, I was deeply touched with the enchantment of these poems.
My translations, below, are a tribute to the magic of Perveen.
A Poem of Rain
Barish mein kia tanha bhegna larki!
usay bula jis ki chahat mein
ttera tun mun bhega hai
pyar ki barish say barh kr kia barish ho gi
aur jub is barish kay baad
hijr ki pehli dhoop khilay gi
tujh per rang kay ism khulein gay
Why to soak alone in the rain, O! Girl
Beckon him in whose love
Your mind and body are drenched
There is no rain more than the rain of love
And when after this rain
The first sunshine of separation would glow
The mysteries of hues you’d know
Another poem of Rain
Peron ki mehndi mein nay
Kis mushkil say chhuraie thi
aur phir bairon khushboo ki
kaisi kaisi binti ki thi
pyari dheray bol
bhra ghar jag uthay ga
lekin jub us kay aanay ki ghari hoi
subah say aisi jhari lagi
umer mein pehli bar
barish achhi nahin lagi!
The henna on my feet
I scrubbed away so hard
And to insolent fragrance
Intensely I had begged
Dear speak lowly
Lest the full house might wake up
But when the time of his arrival came
Since morning the rain so set in
First time in my life
Rain didn’t amuse me!
Yet another poem of rain
Barish ab say pehlay bhi kai bar hoi thi
kia is bar meray rangrez nay chunri kachchi rangi thi
ya tan ka hi kehna such keh
rung to us kay honton mein tha!
It had rained often before
Did my dyer badly colored the scarf this time?
Or my torso had told the truth that
The colour was in his lips.
Naveed E. is a former civil servant, with a passion for poetry and writing.
she was greatest poet.my lover inspiar her poetry and she is started poetry for me .this credit goes to parveen shakir
si,Im a research scholer in jawaharlal nehru university in new delhi my topic,parween shakir ke sheri majmua’INKAR’ka tanquidi mutala.plz help me.Thank you
From my standpoint, I think these poems must be losing a great deal in translation, or perhaps they haven”t found the right translator for English yet. Karachiwala’s favorite translated by Naim is the only one that even makes any sense. It is sweet, and a simple testament to how actions are worth more than words, but no classic.
[…] An email from a Pakistan based writer friend made me recall Parveen Shakir. The poem, Tomato Ketchup, written most probably in the memory of Sara Shagufta (the modernist Pakistani poet who committed suicide in the footsteps of Sylvia Plath). […]
[quote comment=”15099″]@az
“Neither I found her poetry very attractive. ”
Just because you din’t find her poetry very attractive doesn’t mean She can’t be a legend.
She is a legend, does anybody know what happend to her and how she died?
She will always be remembered as a great poet of Urdu and Pakistan.[/quote]
Parveen Shakir captured the emotions of a young girl beautifully in “Khushboo”, her first compilation and probably her best and most honest work. That was the book which made me fall in love with poetry as a young girl. Her later compilations spoke about more than simple romanticism but were probably not as effective as it wasn’t her core strength.
Coming back to the question, she is reported to have died in a car accident. This was the same year we lost Nusrat Fateh Ali, Lady Diana and Mother Teresa. I can still recall the shock my friends and I were in when we heard the news. And then to offer our small token of appreciation we wrote a per on her life and poetry with translation as part of our degree assignment. Like any sensitive soul, I think life’s cruelty seeped too deep into her soul and too soon.