A Tribute to Maham s Favourite poetess PARVEEN SHAKIR

[Maham Azmi]

PARVEEN SHAAKIR


Parveen Shakir was born on 24th November, 1952 in Karachi, Pakistan. She was highly educated with two masters degrees, one in English literature and

one in linguistics. She also held a Ph.D and another masters degree in Bank Administration.

She was a teacher for nine years before she joined the Civil Service and worked in the Customs department. In 1986 she was appointed the second secretary, CBR in

Islamabad.

A number of books of her poetry have been published. In chronological order, they are Khushboo (1976), Sad-barg (1980), Khud-kalaami (1990), Inkaar (1990) and

Maah-e-Tamaam (1994). Her first book, Khushboo, won the Adamjee award. Later she was awarded the Pride of Performance award, which is the highest award given by

the Pakistan government.

On 26th December, 1994, on her way to work, her car collided with a truck and the world of modern Urdu poetry lost one of its brightest stars.

Parveen Shakir initially wrote under the pen-name of 'Beena'. She considered Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi her 'ustad' and used to called him 'Ammujaan'. She was married to

Dr. Nasir Ahmed but got divorced from him sometime before her untimely demise in 1994. They had one son - Murad Ali.

[Maham Azmi]

A MUST READ ARTICAL



Malik Shahnawaz Khar

I know ‘absolutely’ nothing about Parveen Shakir, never met her, never read her poetry, only heard it read out loud or sung by someone else, so I really have no business in writing a tribute to her but even then for some odd reason my fingers are ‘doodling’ on the keyboard as if I were about to compose a Mozart symphony.

I remember when Parveen Shakir died in a car accident; I was only a few cars behind her. I remember the Suzuki-van (Suzuki-Dabba) with a government plate at Faisal Chowk all battered. By the time I reached home the news had spread like wild fire all over the city. Some said a bureaucrat had died, while others said a poet, while it was actually a bit of both.

Next day I had some work with a renowned political butterfly of Islamabad, one of those people whose pictures you see on the second page of an Urdu newspaper or the 9 o’clock PTV Khabarnama, always standing ‘behind’ an important person or late at night sitting in Marriot’s Nadia Cafe with a bunch of men in crumpled up over-starched, white shalwar kameezes. Usually the deal with such people is that in order to get your work done, you have to tolerate their company and political views for at least half the day. As luck would have it this political butterfly’s photo-opportunity-pit-stop for the day was Parveen Shakir’s after funeral prayer service.

I remember the day quite vividly, the funeral was held at a government school, somewhere in or around Lal-Quarter, not to be mistaken for our version of New Orleans, ‘French Quarters’. The weather was gloomy; the sky was completely frosted with stormy clouds. In between the leafless branches of trees the sky appeared as if it was about to crack open any minute. Aitzaz Ahsan and Sartaj Aziz were one of the prominent attendees.

What got my attention was the young cleric employed for the prayer service; he didn’t have a bushy goat like beard but a neatly trimmed one. The young Mullah’s pre-prayer speech was so eloquently sermonized as he interspersed the loss of Parveen Shakir with the tragedies of Islamic history that one felt that one was watching a beautiful rendition of a Greek play. Behind the curtains came the wailing sound of an older woman and people whispered that it was Parveen Shakir’s mother. The melancholia that day: the loss of Parveen Shakir, the young cleric’s sermon, the wailing of women and the grey weather had on overwhelmingly sad, yet redeeming affect on the spirit as I felt tears welling up in me, even though like most of the dignitaries, I was gate-crashing the funeral.

Couple of mobile phone models later I had relocated to America; one night I got a call from a Christian Jordanian friend of mine who needed a ride to Chicago because his Filipino girlfriend was coming from New York. I was reluctant to go because it was late, Chicago was 2 hours away and there was a storm warning and the weather channel had sent out a warning that Counties North of Chicago would be boggy-trapped with tornadoes.

Reluctantly I agreed to drive my friend to Chicago. By the time we got on the expressway, the downpour got heavier. Seeing my handgrip tighten around the wheel, my friend started to sing some Arabic love songs, in order to lighten up the mood, although if he hadn’t told me, I would have probably thought that he was reciting verses from a Holy book.

Our destination was a rundown house in a bad neighbourhood in Chicago; I was made to sit in the living room with a couple of Filipinos watching television, while my Jordanian friend disappeared for a while. Bush was on the television screen saying something, while in the living room, a naked, diaper-less Filipino-toddler was running back and forth in front of the television screen like a moving-pendulum on a grandfather’s clock, ‘yes time was running out for Bush’, I thought.

A Filipino guy sitting next to me asked where I was from, to which I replied Pakistan. The first thing he said to me was, "Have you heard of Parveen Shakir, the poet? We were in Harvard together". I was slightly humbled by the revelation because condescendingly I had taken the guy to be a cook at a Chinese takeaway. Then he started talking about Parveen Shakir’s life at Harvard, how influential and well known she was at Harvard, everyone liked her and that she was dazzlingly brilliant. For the next couple of hours we kept discussing Parveen Shakir till my Jordanian friend came back. It was a weird moment, I wouldn’t say I felt proud to be a Pakistani because giving a feeling a ‘nationality’ kills the universality of it but here I was past midnight in a crime ridden neighbourhood in Chicago where tornadoes were swirling like French wines in the North, with a Filipino I didn’t know from Jack, discussing Parveen Shakir.

Backtracking to present day Pakistan, the other day I was watching PTV, depressed because my cable was down and I could not watch my favourite channel where women are aimlessly exercising on the beach. Suddenly Mehdi Hassan came on air and started singing a Parveen Shakir ghazal. The ghazal was so beautiful and refreshing that at that moment all the associated and unassociated memories of Parveen Shakir came back to me, like in a western Symphony when all the different melodies congregate back to the central theme for a grand finale. At that moment I thought, who cares whether Musharraf doffs his uniform or not or whether Shahbaz Sharif comes back or not; in times to come, like the cardamom in our teas, Parveen Shakir and ‘people like her’ will always be more relevant than all the power hungry Generals and politicians of Pakistan put together.

The writer is a freelance columnist

[Maham Azmi]

POETRY.................Delhi Recorder

Now the perspective and themes are no more those of a young emotional girl but that of a mature,sensetive woman whose individual perception has become a comrehensive , collective vision of throbbing mind.....IIIRD world International





Ye msgs , ye comments khud PARVEEN SHAKIR jaisee hastee ka aap taruf karaatae nazar atae hain

Aaisee shayera jo khushshakl bhi thee aur khubsoorat dilkee maalik bhi

ajeeb andaaz men baat karteen theen Parveen shakir .....Dil moh lenae wala andaz ,sochtee hoee ankhain , ajeeb hee udassi chehrae pe ayaan jo unkee purkashish muskurahat men pinaahan nazar atee thee

Unkee shayeree ke lye kabhi kabh kaha jata hai kae aam feham hotee thee magar shayed yehee unkee khubi thee

Aam se baaton ko maamoolee se lamhon ko apnae lafzon ke motiyon kee mala piro ke buahat qeemtee banae ka gun unhain ata .English Literature ki student rehnae ke wajha se unkee shayeree bauaht bold bhi nazar atee hei jo ke tanqeed ka bais bantee hei ..magar maham ko yehee baat unkee pasand hai .........sachee kharee shayera jo dil kee zarooraton se le ke badan ki zarooraton tak ko pehchantee he nahi theen balkae allal elaan unka zikr bhi kartee theen .....magar aik alag andaaz men .........sirf mehsus karnae kee baat .......!
Ajub andaaz men seher taree kardetee hein unkee tehreerain maham ke dil o zehan pe ........

26th DECEMBER KO maham ki azeez hastee aur dunia kee pasandeeda shayera hum se juda ho gayee

zindagee ne iss aurat ko jo buahat hasas dil rakhtee thee buahat dukh diyae , ya yun khaon ke dukh shayed hasas dilon kee jaageer hotae hain

Parveen shakir ke uper agar artical likhnae chalon tou shayed safhae kam par jaiyen

aj abhi sirf unkee kuch tehreerain apkee nazr jo unke zehan o dil ke kamalaat ko ujaagar kar jatee hein


Eik baat arz karte c halain ke ye presentation ka andaz hamara nahi hie ye aks aur inpe parvenshakir kee nazmain ghazlain is not my work but i ve collected them from here and there but for sure ye tamaam hamaree pasand ka kalam hie , Is  baat ko keh dena is liye zarooree samjha ke i don t want to take the credit for anyone s work

Parveen shakir is my ideal woman and i luv her and her works alot .......

Unka kalaam dilke sada buahat qareeb laga aur lagta rahe ga

Aapke liye haazir hien unki tehreerain ...........

[Maham Azmi]

Kuch lamhae , , Aise hote hein ke , unko sochne se bhi dar lagta hia ke kaheen woh unkahe unchoay lamhe lafzon ki zad mein na ajayen ..............ke aise lamhe bass mehsus karne ke lye hote hein lafzon ke supurd karne ke lye nahi

Mehki hava ke jhonke hon , barasti bondon ki dheemee see sada ho , gulaab patiyon pe larazte shabnam ke qatre hon ,dilki betarteeb dharknain hon , sanson ki taiz hotee laiy ho , chehre pe pheltti haya ki surkhi ho , jhukti palkon ke ghenere sayae hon , labon pe thartharati kayee unkahi baatain hon , chooriyon ki khankhanahat ho , anchal ki mehak ho , mehboob ki shokh hotee nigha ki gustaakhiyaan hon , ya khamoshi mein goonjti sada ho ...............kahan bhala lafzon mein qaid kiya jaa sakta hai in sab ko ..................

Ye tou woh taufhae hein mere RAB ki baargaah se jo inaayat hote hein kuch hee khushnasebon ko aur jo sarmaya e hayaat qarar pate ahin hamare lye ....................

Nazm nahi hai yeh......... ..................ye woh ehsas hai jo ruh mein ghula sa mehsus hota hai ..........jo dil mein jazb ho jata hai beijazat ...........Guzarte khawbnaak lamhon ki kashmakash bass PARVEEN SHAKIR hee is tarz se qalamband kar sakti theen aur woh bhi is ada se ke dilki dharkan kuch betarteeb see ho jayae parhtae parhtae is tehreer ko ........
Jab jab parhtee hon khoya sa patee hon dilko .........aaur aaj khaaskar naajnae kya hoa..............Lafzon ko lamhae bantae dekha khayal ne ..............sehar sa taree ho gaya ho jaise ...........


Is nazm ka ikhtitaam bauhat umda hai ...............eik dar eik hasrat ..........eik dua ...........jo hur aise lamhae mein dilse nikaltee hei hur pyar karnae walae ke ..............ke kash..................ye vasl ke lamhae amar ho jayen.......................





sabz maddham roshanii me.n surKh aa.Nchal kii dhanak
sard kamare me.n machalatii garm saa.Nso.n kii mahak

baazuuo.n ke sakht halqe me.n ko_ii naazuk badan
silvaTe.n malabuus par aa.Nchal bhii kuchh Dhalakaa huaa

garmii-e-ruKhsaar se dahakii hu_ii Thaa.nDii havaa
narm zulfo.n se mulaayam u.Ngaliyo.n kii chhe.D chhaa.D

surKh ho.nTho.n par sharaarat ke kisii lamhe.n kaa aks
reshamii baaho.n me.n chuu.Dii kii kabhii maddham dhanak

sharmagii.n lahajo.n me.n dhiire se kabhii chaahat kii baat
do dilo.n kii dha.Dakano.n me.n guu.Njatii thii ek sadaa

kaa.Npate ho.nTho.n pe thii allaah se sirf ek duaa
kaash ye lamhe Thahar jaaye.n Thahar jaaye.n zaraa

[Maham Azmi]

[Maham Azmi]

parven shakir ki kuch aisee tehreerain hain jo baarhaa dehaktae aa tishdaan ke qareeb beth ke tamaam raat maham ne parhee nahi hain balkae mehsus kee hein ............
...............ye woh tehreerain hain is shayera kee jo maham ko apnae atraaf se bilkul begaana kar dete hein ..............
phir bass ye tehreerain hotee hein ...............
.................aur lafz lafz lamha banta hai ............aur un lamhion men maham buahat door nikal jatee hei
aise safar pe jiski koi manzil nahi .............magar kuch safar qadam qadam manzil hee tou hotae hain ..............
............yaadon ki shaahraah pe beetae lamhon ke hath thaam kar tanha chaltae jaana b hi eik kaamaal ka ehsas hai ..............

aaj woh tehreerain app ki hasas zouq ke havalae kartee hei Maham ,

[Maham Azmi]

[Maham Azmi]

[Maham Azmi]

[Maham Azmi]

Maham nahi jaanti ke dekhne walon pur iska kya asar ho ga .....magar is tasveer ko dekh kar jo khumaar sa chaya hai ehssas pe , jo dil kee dharkan betarteeb hoee hei , samander men dilke jo jazbon ki tughiyaani barhee hei ........woh kaifiyaat naaqaabil e bayan hai

suna hai ke log poorae chaand ki raaton men TAJ ko dkeh ke apne hosh sachmuch kho bethatae hein ........woh sachmuch devanae ho jatae hein

kash kabhi aise hee ho ke Maham ho poorae chaand ki raat ho aur TAJ yunhee maham ke saamnae ho tou najanae kya ho

Shayed is se zyada shadeed khuahish aab nahi hai dilmein ke eik raat Maham ki aise hee TAJ ke qurb men guzrae ...........


Lafzon men bayan karnae ki sakat hotee tou keh patee ke kya mehsus kar rahe hon is tasveer ko dekh ke jis pur se nigah nahi hat rahee Maham kee

..................I am spell bound ..........speechless.....................








Aur phir ye PARVEEN SHAKIR ki tehreer is TAJ ko khiraaj e aqeedat paish kartee hoee

...................

Sang e marmar kee khunk baanhon mein
Husn e khuabeeda ke agayae meree ankhain shal hain
Gung sadiyon ke tanaazur mein koi bolta hai
Waqt ke jazbae ke tarzu pe zar o seem o javahar ki tarap tolta hai !

Hur naae chaand pe pathar wohee sach kehte hein
Isee lamhae se damak uthae hein inke chehrae
Jiskee lau,umr gayae,eik dil e shab zad ko mehtaab baana ayee thee!

Ishee Mehtaab ki eik narm kiran
Sanch sang mein dhal payee tou
Ishq rang e abdiyaat se sarafzaah hoa

Kiya ajub neend hai
Jisko choo kar
Jo bhi ata hai khulee aankh liyae ata hai
So chukae khaawb e abad dekhnae walae kab ke
Aur zamaana hai ke is khawb ki tabeer liye jaag raha hai ab tak !
___________________________________

[Maham Azmi]

Ayae kuch aur moti pirotae chalain is maala mein

kuch aisee tehreerain is shayera kee jo dharakan ban ke dharaktee hein Maham ke dilmein ................

[Maham Azmi]

[Maham Azmi]

EIK UDAAS NAZM

YEH HASEEN SHAAM APNI
ABHI JIS MEIN GHULL RAHI HAI
TERE PAIRHAN KI KHUSHBOO
ABHI JIS MEIN KHIL RAHE HAIN
MERE KHWAAB KE SHAGOOFAY
ZARA DAIR KA HAI MANZAR

ZARA DAIR MEIN UFAQ PER
KHILAY GA KOI SITARA
TERI SIMT DEKH KER WOH
KARE GA KOI ISHARA
TERE DIL KO AAYE GA PHIR
KISI AUR KA BULAWA
KOI KISSA-E-JUDAI

KOI KAAR-E-NAMUKAMAL
KOI KHWAAB-E-NASHAGUFTA
KOI BAAT KEHNE WALI
KISI AUR AADMI SE

HUMEIN CHAAHIYE THA MILNA
KISI EHD-E-MEHRBAAN MEIN
KISI KHWAAB KE YAKEEN MEIN
KISI AUR AASMAAN PER
KISI AUR SARZAMEEN MEIN
HUMEIN CHAAHIYE THA MILNA

~ Parveen Shakir

Khushbu Ki Zabaan

Zabaan e gher men likha hai tu ne khat mujh ko
buahat ajeeb ibarat , baree awaq tehreer
y sare harf meri had e feham se bahar
mein eik lafz bhi mehsus kar nahi saktee
mein haft khawaan to kabhi bhi na thee-magar is waqt
ye saut o rang , ye ahang ajnabi hee sahee
mujhe ye lagta hei jaise men jantee hon inhein
(azal se meri samaat hei aashnaa in se !)
ke teri soch ki qurbat naseeb hie inko
ye vo zabaan hei jise tera lams haacil hie
tere qalam ne bare piyar se likha hei inhein
rachi hoee hei hur eik lafz men teri khushbu
teree wafa ki mehak tere piyaar ki khushbu
zabaan koi bhi ho khushbu ki--------vo bhali ho gee !

[Maham Azmi]

[Maham Azmi]