Genre: Poetry
Language: Urdu
Pages: 238
Reading, or reviewing poetry, is not an easy thing. How, as
a book reader, would you read poetry that lacks plot, that shifts tones from
one poem to another, that sometimes is so cherishable and at others so
difficult to understand? Should you try to remember it, or just read it and
move on? Perhaps bit of both. Read it, feel it, and then move on. In my
personal experience, remembering a poem steals from its beauty, while a poem
that stays with you, it likes you; it takes no effort to be remembered.
As human beings, we always try to seek people who shares
what we’ve been through; the pain we’ve so privately suffered. And once in a
while when a poem feels like it has been written for us, that pain which we
felt so deeply and in such isolating loneliness, that pain is then tended to.
It is a marvelous thing! How could someone write so beautifully about something
I never dared to share?
Jaun has tended many of pains. I deeply long for love, yet I
am, like most others, very terrible at loving. ‘To be living is to be
missing’ says John Green, and similarly, to love is to dare to get hurt at
the heart. Inevitable as it is, we still dare to love, at least those of who
do, or are compelled to do so. And then, in the moments of repeated yet every
time novel pain, we need a listening ear, an understanding presence, or some
marvelous, tender lines from the poets.
As promised in my review of ‘Yaani’ by Jaun, I’d
continue to touch upon some of the traits I so deeply admire in Elia.
Jaun complains. His childlike quality of wanting the world
as he thought and then his disappointment at the life he lived. Jaun flirts
with ideas. He doesn’t go for either side of the coin. ‘He presents a third
perspective’ as someone said about Jaun, which is a mix of both – a treachery
to either side. Jaun is needy. He isn’t shy of his human characteristics. He
doesn’t pretend to be god. He seeks attention, keeps his dear ones close to
him, seeks approval, shares his pain and failures, his neediness to be praised.
Jaun is irritating. He says something and later betrays his own words; he
shifts color, yet in every color he appears genuine. It is irritating not to
know what he is, other than a betrayer of himself. Jaun is ambitious. He
doesn’t shy to say lofty ideas, either about the world or himself. Maybe,
sometimes he likes to tease with god, challenge him, close that big gap between
the creator and the created. Then again, Jaun is a humble human. He accepts to
fail when his ‘ambitions outweigh the disappointing realities of life’. I love
Jaun. We all need to love Jaun. His looks may irk those who are used to
paper-like beauty, his poems may seem too depressing to those who naively seek
joy in distractions – but those who choose to feel, to empathize, to live, and
those who reads and sees Jaun, the sometimes lonely Jaun, behind his line, we
need to love him through understanding him.
“Khud Ko Jaana Juda Zamane Se (Distinct,
I found myself from the world)
Aa Gaya Tha Mere Gumaan Me Kiya (What had resided in my suspicion?)
‘Gumaan’ (*fancy, suspicion, mistrust) it is beautiful word.
A curious word by nature. A word poets would like to use, as Jaun has used it
many times in this collection of his poetries. It is quite ironic that even
after reading Jaun for a couple of years now, and knowing how he writes, I
still find his poems sometimes too simple, too easy, and therefore too
ordinary. As a passionate lover of Jaun and his lines, I don’t want to believe
that he is ordinary. He is not, an inner voice says, when I come across
multiple poems that reads as monotonously as prose; that inner voice defends
Jaun when my mind can find no proof of his greatness. But then I keep on
reading, and soon enough find something so beautifully captured, something so
unique, or something so close to my heart, that I know I need no proofs. I know
he is great, in my heart.
Reading ‘Gumaan’ was such an experience for me. For
parts, I wondered, I hesitated, if Jaun really is as great as he is popular,
not that I take his popularity as a good thing other than the fact that I got
to know him because of it. Otherwise, I think Jaun’s online popularity works
against him being the great poet he is. But at times when reading this book, it
was undeniable to keep those suspicions at bay, the defeating idea that Jaun
sometimes has nothing great to say. Maybe I was giving in to the ‘dangers of
loving too much’; maybe because I love Elia so much that I always want him to
be great and nothing less – such a cruel thing that is. Of course, his every
line doesn’t have to be great. He can be ordinary and great, and that is okay,
that is Elia.
I’ve made a habit of noting the pages of the book on which
the poetry was amazing, as we say in Urdu ‘dil chooney wala’ (*that
which kisses the heart). And while there were many such poems throughout this
collection, the last pages were continuously note-worthy. In last pages, one
finds Jaun at his most romantic, most philosophic, and most vulnerable. It is a
joy to read him when he is great! Following are the page numbers of my favorite
poems from ‘Gumaan’.
Page Numbers: 42, 45, 46, 49, 53, 72, 90, 93, 101,
121, 131,159, 161, 166, 185, 200, 205, 207, 215, 220, 226, and pretty
everything in the pages onwards.
A few of my favorite lines from
‘Gumaan’: (plus spontaneous English translation)
“Mujhy Ab Hosh Aata Jaa Raha
Hai (Consciousness is descending upon me)
Khuda Teri Khudai Jaa Rahi Hain”
(God, you Godliness is fading away!)
“Bhol Jaana Nahi Gunah Usey
(It is no vice to forget her)
Yadd Karna Koi Sawab Nahi” (Nor
any virtue to remember)
“Haye Wo Shouq Jo Nahi Tha
Kabhi (Alas, that passion which never was)
Haye Wo Zindage Jo Thi Hi Nahi”
(Alas, that life which never was!)
“Ho Kabhi Tou Sharaab-eWasl
Naseeb (Be granted the wine of union sometime)
Piye Jaon Mein Khoon Hi Kab
Tak” (How long shall I keep drinking my own blood)
“Wo Bhi Padh Tha Nahi Hain Ab
Dil Se (Never more she reads from the heart)
Hum Bhi Naaley Ko Nam Nahi
Karty” (So I do not wet my complains either)
“Ta’ajub Hain K Ishq-O-Aashiqui
Se (How fascinating that from love)
Abhi Kuch Log Dokha Kah Rahey
Hain (Some people are still being betrayed)
Wo Pagal Mast Hain Apni Wafa
Mein (That poor soul is lost in her loyalty)
Meri Ankhon Mein Ansou Aarahy
Hain” (Tears are coming to my eyes)
“Naam Pe Hum Qurban Thy Us K
Lekin Phir Ye Thor Hua (I died for her name, but then)
Isko Dekh K Rukh Jaana Bhi
Sabse Badhi Qurbani Thi (To see and her stop became the greatest sacrifice)
Mujh Se Bichad Kar Bhi Wo Larki
Kitni Khush Khush Rehti Hain (How merry she is since we got apart)
Is Larki Ny Mujh Se Bichad Kar
Mar Jaaney Ki Tahni Thi” (Who was stubborn on dying at our partition)
“Ab Mein Nahi Raha Hun Kisi Bhi
Gumaan Ka (I no longer remain of any fancy)
Ab Mere Kufr, Ay Mere Emaan
Alvidah” (Now my disbelief, O my belief farewell)
“Baat Jo Hain Wo Kiya Hain
(The thing that is, what is it)
Tum Mujhy Batao Tho… (Tell
me, O please)
Mein Tumhy Nahi Samjha (I
failed to understand you)
Tum Samjh Mein Ao Tho
(Become understandable, O please)
Jurm Qyun Kiyen Tumne (Why
did you commit cruelty)
Khath Hi Qyun Likhen Tumne”
(Why did you write the letters)
“Kiyan Ho Gayen Apni Waada
Gahey (What happened to our promise lands)
Har Cheez Badal Gayi Yaha Tho
(Everything changed here)
Mein Shehr-e-Wafa Se Aa Raha
Hun (I have come from the city of loyalty)
Koi Bhi Nahi Mila Wahan Tho”
(No one was there!)
Ratings: 4/5 **** (September 20, 2020)