Aaj bāzār meñ pā-ba-jaulāñ chalo by Faiz - Captivity as a badge of honour

My tryst with this powerful nazm, in particular, and Faiz Ahmad Faiz's poetry in general, started in 1993-94 when a friend gave me a video cassette of the film "Muhafiz", directed by Ismail Merchant under Merchant Ivory Productions. The film was based on Anita Desai's novel In Custody, and was simultaneously made in English as "In Custody". The protagonist, played by Shashi Kapoor, is an Urdu poet, Nur. To match the stature of the film's protagonist, Faiz Ahmad Faiz's poetry was chosen to fill in as the songs and occasional recitals by the Shayar. 

To be honest, with my below par knowledge of Urdu diction, most of the poetry used in the film did not make much sense to me at the time and that prompted me to take understanding Faiz as a challenge. I studied about Faiz, his left leaning political beliefs, his defiance and refusal to bend before tyranny, leading to imprisonment and a long exile. I kept working on improving my understanding of the Urdu diction and now, after more that a quarter of a century, I understand Faiz to some extent. It would be arrogance to claim that I understand Faiz very well, but I am able to make some sense of his poetry.

Coming to this particular nazm, there is a background story. While in Jail, Faiz had some trouble with his teeth. He was taken out of the prison, tied in chains, and was driven to a dentist on an open horse-cart. Some people recognised Faiz and followed the cart. He could have felt embarrassed but, on the contrary, he thought of his captivity - symbolised by the chain - as a badge of honour since he was fighting for a cause. And that produced this magical nazm. 'Pa-ba-jaulan' means feet in fetters. 

I am going to share my thoughts and my interpretation of the nazm. I have tried to translate it as best as I can, with a combination of the literal meaning and contextual meaning of the terms. The translation is followed by my (unaided) interpretation of the nazm. Here it goes:

chashm-nam jān-e-shorīda kaafī nahīñ

tohmat-e-ishq-poshīda kaafī nahīñ

aaj bāzār meñ pā-ba-jaulāñ chalo

Moist eyes, and troubled existence will not suffice

The charge of concealed love will not suffice

Today, in shackles, let’s walk in the market place

These lines are Faiz’s clarion call for an open and forceful defiance. Tohmat-e-ishq-posheeda is symbolic of a mild offence, and moist eyes with a troubled existence represent a subdued response to tyranny. Walking in chains is like being openly rebellious.

dast-afshāñ chalo mast o raqsāñ chalo

ḳhāk-bar-sar chalo ḳhūñ-ba-dāmāñ chalo

raah taktā hai sab shahr-e-jānāñ chalo

Walk on, with palms open, as if dancing in frenzy, walk on
Ignoring the dust in the head, and the blood-soaked garb, walk on.The beloved city yearns for you, just walk on.

Once you stand up to tyranny, the pain and suffering evaporates. The open palm and the frenzied dance are the defiant response to the dust and blood on the body, the symbols of tortuous captivity.  shahr-e-jānāñ is a term traditionally used for the city of beloved. But here the term is more inclusive, embracing all the oppressed and dispossessed. (Remember the Marxist theory that there are only two types of people - the 'haves' and the 'have-nots'?)

hākim-e-shahr bhī majma-e-ām bhī

tīr-e-ilzām bhī sañg-e-dushnām bhī

sub.h-e-nāshād bhī roz-e-nākām bhī

From the ‘haakim’ to the commoners, let them watch
The barbs of accusations, stones of abuses, let them come
The morns of heartbreak, the days of failure, let them be

Just walk on.

Now, with the knowledge that Faiz was driven by revolutionary ideology, these lines can be viewed the quest for externalisation of rebellion, exposing it to everyone, from the hākim, the instrument of exploitation, to the suffering common people. In the process, the poet feels, a revolutionary has to be ready for accusation, pain, and frustration and has to carry on, unfazed.  

un kā dam-sāz apne sivā kaun hai

shahr-e-jānāñ meñ ab bā-safā kaun hai

dast-e-qātil ke shāyāñ rahā kaun hai

raḳht-e-dil bāñdh lo dil-figāro chalo

phir hamīñ qatl ho aa.eñ yaaro chalo

Who else, if not you, is their intimate friend? 
Who, if not you, is pure in soul to offer a cure?

Who, if not you, is worthy of the executioner’s axe?
Pack the treasures of heart, come all broken hearted, let’s go
Once more, let’s go and be executed, come friends, let’s go

Faiz believes that those with the ability to understand and comprehend the methods of oppression are best equipped to lead and cannot shy away or steer clear of troubles. Who else, but they, are suited and equipped to offer to lead, and make sacrifices. It may appear that the poem ends in despair with phir hamīñ qatl ho aa.eñ yaaro chalo. But the revolutionary knows that the sacrifices of today are inevitable pointers to a future of hope and delight. 

 This is a brilliant piece of poetry not only by the content, but also due to the format - the poetic diction and imagery - perfectly matching the content. The use of adjectives nam for chashm and poshida for ishq is absolutely brilliant for subdued and oppressed existence. Use of chalo as a recurring refrain creates a perfect sound. The imagery like  ḳhāk-bar-sar and ḳhūñ-ba-dāmāñ to depict a captive being dragged is brilliant. 

I do not know why, these lines reminded me of a she’r from Zafar’s “baat karni mujhe mushkil”, another one about captivity. Let me quote:

pā-e-kūbāñ koī zindāñ meñ nayā hai majnūñ

aatī āvāz-e-salāsil kabhī aisī to na thī

(pā-e-kūbāñ – foot of an instrument used for beating mortar for construction; zindan – prison; awaz-e-salasil – sound of chains)

For Zafar, the chain symbolises the resigned lament over captivity, for Faiz it is a badge of honour, a symbol of defiance. Two great poets of different eras, different circumstances, different contexts and different responses.

I am closing this write up with a she'r of Faiz. A genius makes his mark and creates a trajectory in whatever he does:

jo ruke to koh-e-girāñ the ham jo chale to jaañ se guzar ga.e

rah-e-yār ham ne qadam qadam tujhe yādgār banā diyā 

I am sharing the link to a video recording of Faiz himself reciting this nazm.

https://youtu.be/T8ccyGF-EDU

If you liked the blog and want to read more, here is the link to another blog:
http://kashikeya.blogspot.com/2012/04/awaragi-interface-with-solitude.html?m=1