Some Indian Songs

Notes:

I am not a poet, and my language skills are too poor to even contemplate translating poetry to a different language. The song is about the madness of romantic love, which if unrequited, can cause pain. If you already understand some Hindi, here are some hints to understanding the Urdu phrases. I can't call it a translation; it's just some words that sort of convey some semblance of the meaning. Please note that it isn't 100% literal, this is my own interpretation. People's interpretation of poetry can vary, so you might not get exactly the same meaning I do.

If you don't speak Hindi or Urdu, I'm sorry, you won't make much sense of this translation. The words in English don't convey the full sense, and there are too many colloquialisms that just don't translate into English.

Sorry about the video, I couldn't find one with better audio quality, so I had to choose between poor quality audio plus real video of Ghulam Ali singing this, or better audio with a series of pictures of Indian movie actresses. I chose the better audio.

• Kabhi aah lab pe machal gaye, kabhi ashq aankh se dhal gaye: wayward sighs and sometimes tears
• voh tumhaare gham ke chiragh hain, kabhi bujh gaye, kabhi jal gaye: these are the lamps of my sorrow, sometimes they light up and sometimes they fade
• Main khayaal-o-khaab ki mahfilein, na baqadre shouk saja sakaa: I was unable to build my thoughts and imaginings to my desire
• teri ek nazar ke saath hi, mere sab iraade badal gaye: one look from you changed all my plans
• Kabhi rang mein, kabhi roop mein, kabhi chaanv mein, kabhi dhoop mein: through colors and beauty, through shadow and light
• kahin aftab-e-nazar hain voh, kahin mahtab mein dhal gaye: sometimes she's like the Sun to your eyes, sometimes she fades like the moon
• Jo fanaa huye gham-e-ishq mein, unhein zindagi ka na gham huya: those who destroyed themselves for their love never regretted it
• jo na apni aag mein jal sakey, voh paraai aag mein jal gaye: those who couldn't generate fire in their own lives, burned in the passion of another
• Ya unhein bhee meri tarah junoon, to phir un mein mujh mein ye farq kyoon: if she shares my madness, why is there this difference between us?
• main giraft-e-gham se na back saka, voh hudood-e-gham se nikal gaye: I couldn't escape the prison of my sorrow, but she had no trouble leaving its boundaries behind

Postscript: This is a very frustrating task, much more so than I thought when I started. There are no English equivalents to so many words, and simply picking the "nearest in meaning" not only fails to convey the meaning, more often than not it actually distorts it. Consider this line:

main khayaal-o-khaab ki mahfilein, na baqadre shouk sajaa saka

which I have interpreted to mean "I was unable to build my thoughts and imaginings to my desire". I realize that's pathetic, but how the heck am I supposed to translate that? Is there even an English equivalent to "mahfilein"? If I say "gatherings of people" that doesn't convey the full sense of the word -- the excitement, the camaraderie, the formality (don't those two sound like they contradict each other? In English, they probably do, but not here). In this context, the culture too, gatherings as cultural events. Or how about "baqadre shouk sajaa saka"? That would be:

• ba-qadre - with due regard to, with respect for
• shouk - is that like a hobby? An interest, something you do in your spare time?
• sajaa - to decorate, embellish

So it's like saying "my thoughts and dreams come together with the excitement and anticipation of people at a mahfil, but I was unable to sort them out, polish them and set them up as things of beauty, as I might have desired". That's way too long for a translation, and only conveys half the sense anyway. The Urdu form is short, succinct, and carries a wealth of meaning that the translation doesn't even begin to approach.

So I took the easy way out and skipped a bunch of words, leaving enough to offer a sense of what was said. It's bad, I know, but what can I do.

Notes:

This is another ghazal sung by Ghulam Ali. I understand that it's sort of a reference to the poet Akbar Illahabadi. During the British Raj, the policy of divide-and-rule was in full force, and the British used Hindu and Muslim religious sentiments to incite hatred between the two groups. Akbar Illahabadi publicly spoke against this and called for unity, at which the Muslim leaders commented "the Hindus must have gotten you drunk, because you're talking nonsense."

The title and refrain of the ghazal is "hangama hai kyoon barpa, thori si jo pili hai" -- meaning, ok, maybe I'm a bit drunk, but why these screams of censure? "Daaka to nahin daala, chori to nahin ki hai" - it's not like I've robbed someone.

Here's my translation.

• hangaama hai kyon barpa, thori si jo pili hai: why all the clamor, just because I might be a little bit drunk?
• daaka to nahin daala, chori to nahin ki hai: it's not like I robbed someone.
• vaa dil mein ke sadame do, ya jee mein ke sab sah lo: you can let these shocks get to you, or you can just tolerate them
• un kaa bhi ajab dil hai, mera bhi ajab jee hai: they have strange hearts, and my temperament is a bit odd too
• us mai se nahin matlab, dil jis sey ho begaana: I'm not concerned with the sort of wine that makes one a stranger
• maqsood hai us mai sey, dil hee mein jo khichti hai: but rather with the wine that stretches your heart [makes you more accepting and less intolerant]
• sooraj mein lagey dhabba, fitrat key karishmein hain: these stains that mar the sun, they're just the wonders of nature
• but ham ko kahein kafir, allah ki marzi hai: and the irony is that the idols are calling me the unbeliever; it's god's will
• natajurbakari sey, wais ki ye baatein hain: their words come from inexperience
• is rang ko kya jaane, poocho to kabhi pi hai: what do they know of this color, just ask them if they've ever been been drunk
• har zarra chamakta hai, anwar-e-illahi se: every speck shines with the light of god
• har saans ye kahti hai, ham hain to khudaa bhi hai: every breath tells me that so long as I am here, god is here too

Notes:

This is a very old qawwali, and has been sung by many different people. This version is by Runa Laila, who was born in East Pakistan, but spent most of her life in Karachi (West Pakistan). As I mentioned earlier, it's in Sindhi, and I don't understand Sindhi. However, it's similar enough to Hindu/Urdu that I can get a general sense of what's being said.

The song is basically a prayer to two Sufi saints: Lal Shahbaz and Jhooley Lal. Lal Shahbaz was born in what's now Afghanistan, in 1143 AD. However, he settled in Sehwan, in the Sindh (hence the words "sindhri-da" and "sehvan-da", meaning "of Sehvan" and "of the Sindh". The Sufis were well known for preaching Hindu-Muslim tolerance, and Lal Shahbaz is probably the first recognized Muslim who did just that. He's revered among both the Hindu and Muslim communities today. Jhooley Lal was born a Hindu (probably earlier than Lal Shahbaz), and also became a Sufi saint. The words "Jhooley Lal" refer to a baby in a cradle that rocks, probably a comparison to the Lord Krishna, who is often depicted like that in Hindu religious art.

There's not a whole lot to it. The song is a short prayer to these Sufis. Some of the words I can understand are:

chaar chiragh tere varana hamesha, panjva mibaaran, aayi bala jhooley laalan: your shrine is always lit by four lamps, here I am with a fifth in your honor

hind-sindh peera teri naubat baje, naal baje ghari yaal bala jhooley laalan: your name is praised throughout Hind (India) and Sindh (Pakistan), let the drums beat to your glory

har dam peera teri khair hovey, naam-e-Ali bera paar laga jhooley laalan: may you prevail every time, and in the name of Ali, keep me safe

I have a particular fondness for this qawwali because it's so old, and because I have heard it live many times, at various "dargahs" (mausoleums) of Sufi saints in India.