Tag Archives: Khushwant Singh

Ajj Aakhaan Waris Shah Nu By Amrita Pritam

Amrita Pritam (1919-2005) was one the most distinguished Punjabi poets and fiction writers. She was born in Mandi Bahauddin, Punjab and was living in Lahore when in 1947 she, along with the millions others, was forced to migrate during the partition of the Punjab.

Her first collection of poems Amrit Lehrcm was published in 1936 when she was barely 17 years old. Starting as a romantic poet, she matured into a poetess of revolutionary ideas as a result of her involvement with the Progressive Movement in literature.

Ajj Aakhaan Waris Shah Nu (Today I Say unto Waris Shah) is a heartrending poem written during the riot-torn days that followed the partition of the country. (Apnaorg.com). The poem is addressed to Waris Shah, (1706 -1798), a Punjabi poet, best-known for his seminal work Heer Ranjha, based on the traditional folk tale of Heer and her lover Ranjha. Heer is considered one of the quintessential works of classical Punjabi literature.

Her body of work comprised over 100 books of poetry, fiction, biographies, essays, a collection of Punjabi folk songs and an autobiography that were all translated into several Indian and foreign languages

Ajj Aakhaan Waris Shah Nu (Today I Say unto Waris Shah – Ode to Waris Shah)

Translation from the original in Punjabi by Khushwant Singh. Amrita Pritam: Selected Poems. Ed Khushwant Singh. (Bharatiya Jnanpith Publication, 1992)

 To Waris Shah I turn today!

Speak up from the graves midst which you lie!

In our book of love, turn the next leaf.

When one daughter of the Punjab did cry

You filled pages with songs of lamentation,

Today a hundred daughters cry

0 Waris to speak to you.

O friend of the sorrowing, rise and see your Punjab

Corpses are strewn on the pasture,

Blood runs in the Chenab.

Some hand hath mixed poison in our live rivers

The rivers in turn had irrigated the land.

From the rich land have sprouted venomous weeds

flow high the red has spread

How much the curse has bled!

The poisoned air blew into every wood

And turned the flute bamboo into snakes

They first stung the charmers who lost their antidotes

Then stung all that came their way

Their lips were bit, fangs everywhere.

The poison spread to all the lines

All of the Punjab turned blue.

Song was crushed in every throat;

Every spinning wheel’s thread was snapped;

Friends parted from one another;

The hum of spinning wheels fell silent.

All boats lost the moorings

And float rudderless on the stream

The swings on the peepuls’ branches

I lave crashed with the peepul tree.

Where the windpipe trilled songs of love

That flute has been lost

Ranjah and his brothers have lost their art.

Blood keeps falling upon the earth

Oozing out drop by drop from graves.

The queens of love

Weep in tombs.

It seems all people have become Qaidos,

Thieves of beauty and love

Where should I search out

Another Waris Shah.

Waris Shah

Open your grave;

Write a new page

In the book of love.

NOTES

Waris Shah (1706 -1798) was a Punjabi poet, best-known for his seminal work Heer Ranjha, based on the traditional folk tale of Heer and her lover Ranjha. Heer is considered one of the quintessential works of classical Punjabi literature.

Qaido – A maternal uncle of Heer in Heer Ranjha is the villain who betrays the lovers.

The Punjab – the region of the five rivers east of Indus: Jhelum, Chenab, Ravi, Beas, and Sutlej.

When Amrita Pritam called out to Waris Shah in a heartrending ode while fleeing the Partition riots by Nirupama Dutt

I say unto Waris Shah by Amrita Pritam – Poem Analysis

Pritam, Amrita, and Rama Jha. “An Interview with Amrita Pritam.” Indian Literature 25, no. 5 (1982): 183-195.

Butalia, Urvashi. “Looking back on partition.” Contemporary South Asia 26, no. 3 (2018): 263-269.

From Mano Majra to Faqiranwalla: Revisiting the Train to Pakistan

New Delhi train station. © Pippa Virdee 2016

By Pippa Virdee and Arafat Safdar in South Asian Chronicle.

Khushwant Singh’s novel Train to Pakistan was published in 1956, almost ten years after the partition of India/ creation of Pakistan in 1947. Its publication inaugurated what has been called ‘South Asian Partition Fiction in English’ (Roy 2010). It remains, to date, one of the most poignant and realistic fictional accounts depicting the welter of partition and saw a sensitive screen adaptation in 1998 by Pamela Rooks. It captures one of the most horrific symbols of partition—that of the burning, charred and lifeless trains that moved migrants and evacuated refugees from one side of the border to the other. The trains that previously served to bring people and goods from disparate worlds closer together were overnight turned into targets of mob attacks and transporters of mass corpses. They thus became an emblem, a much-photographed representation (Kapoor 2013) of the wider violence and ethnic cleansing that was taking place in Panjab (Ahmed 2002: 9-28); one of the two regions divided to make way for the two new nation-states.

Selecting some key individuals in the village, relevant to and representative of our efforts to excavate the myths and memories associated with partition, and situating their sensibilities vis-à-vis the sentiments exhibited in the novel, we conducted interviews to collect and compare experiential accounts. An attempt in the Wildean spirit to attest that ‘life imitates art far more than art imitates life’, the article, located in the Faqiranwalla of 2017, looks back to the Mano Majra of 1947. In doing so, not only does it reflect on this intervening time-span and what it has done to those remembrances, but, also brings to fore the well-remarked realisation that, in this case too, ‘the past is another country’ (Judt 1992). Like in the novel then and life today, the connecting link in this article too, between Faqiranwalla and Mano Majra, is the train, as both share the overweening presence of the railways in the village, through which its life is/was governed.

Read full article: https://edoc.hu-berlin.de/handle/18452/19508

Südasien-Chronik – South Asia Chronicle 7/2017, S. 21-44 © Südasien-Seminar der Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin