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Remembering Majaz
By:Rajbir Deswal
“There I see the yellow moon,
rising from the parapet of a mansion.
Like a Muslim priest’s headgear;
like a Baniya’s ledger book;
like a poorman’s youth;
like a widow’s charm—it’s all useless.
What do I do O’ my saddened heart,
What do I do O’ my tormented heart?”
This is what loosely translated verse of Majaz Lakhnavi mean when he says, “Ik mahal ki aad se, nikla wo peela mahtab,
jaise mulla ka amama, jaise baniye ki kitab,
jaise muflis ki jawani, jaise bewa ka shabab,
Ai ghame dil kya karoon, ai vahashte dil kya karoon.”
They held a seminar in Chandigarh in memory of the legendary, revolutionary poet Majaz Lakhnavi recently. I do not know Urdu; nor can I read or write in that medium. But the love I have for this language is enough satisfaction in me as against a sense of loss and inadequacy in not knowing Urdu.
Very many instances relating to Majaz were recalled at the seminar. Experts on him who had had the privilege of sharing some part of their life time with that of Majaz recalled with nostalgia certain facts which make interesting reading.
Majaz slipped into depression and had to be kept in a mental asylum twice. That he used to drink a lot made him weak in his liver. People accuse him of ‘choosing to move ahead with death in mind’ due to his habit of drinking but the contemporary society and many of his so called friends themselves offered him liquor so that he could “ recite something new”.
When he started for the Coffee House in Hazrat Ganj in Lucknow, there used to be people lining up to see the legendary poet and the institution that Majaz was. Even girls used to stop in those days to catch a glimpse of Majaz.
He had his place already ‘reserved’ in the Coffee House in the sense that none sat at the place meant for Majaz. Slowly slowly people surrounded him from all sides and there would be a horde of fans around encircling him in their respective earshots. He would then be made to recite his creations.
Past midnight when the fun would be over, Majaz would be left ll by himself when everyone around would be gone. The rickshaw walas would then make a beeline to take him home. His mother would always keep the rickshaw fare under his pillow.
The seminarists recalled that “ Majaz had never touched any girl in ‘ andhera aur ujala’ and that the fascination he had was all for the simple beauty in a woman. His memorable lines from ‘Ek Naujawan Khatoon Se’ say in abundant terms what the champions of women empowerment would have loved to quote:
Tere maathey pe ye aanchal bahut hi khoob hai lekin,
Tu is aanchal ka ik parcham bana leti to achha tha.
(The cloth that covers your forehead makes you look charming yet,
If you had made a loftier flag of it, then it surely would have been better). Flag is a symbol of revolution and sovereignty(of the self in this case)
