In response to one of my prior posts on Mahadevi, reader Vijay A left a comment providing a link where Mahadevi's story Gillu is available online. I am re-posting the link here to increase its visibility:
http://ncert.nic.in/book_publishing/Class%209/Sanchayan/chapter%201.pdf
Thanks to Vijay A for sharing this link.
Friday, October 23, 2009
A few Agyeya translations
Once upon a time, not so long ago, I made an attempt at translating a few excerpts from the poetry and prose works of Agyeya, and made these translations available online, in an effort to make them accessible to a wider audience. I am now moving that material here:
दूर्वाचल
पार्श्व गिरि का नम्र:
चीड़ों में डगर चढ़ती उमंगों सी.
बिची पैरों में नदी, ज्यों दर्द की रेखा.
विहग-शिशु मौन नीड़ों में.
मैंने आँख-भर देखा.
दिया मन को दिलासा--पुनः आऊंगा
भले ही बरस-दिन--अनगिन युगों के बाद.
क्षितिज ने पलक सी खोली
तमक कर दामिनी बोली:
'अरे यायावर, रहेगा याद?'
(from the anthology: 'इंद्रधनु रौंदे हुए ये')
My attempt at an English translation:
The quiet mountain background:
amidst the pines, the trail rising exuberantly.
The river spread at my feet, as though
the Earth's face were crinkled with pain.
The fledgelings were quiet in their nests.
I took it all in to my eyes' content.
Consoled myself--I would come again
though it be days-months--ages hence.
The Horizon seemed to come alive
the Lightning said derisively:
'Oh wanderer, will you remember?'
Misc. short poems
--------------------------
सांझ-सवेरे
रोज़-सवेरे मैं थोड़ा-सा अतीत में जी लेता हूँ--
क्योंकि रोज़-शाम को मैं थोड़ा-सा भविष्य में मर जाता हूँ.
(from: 'क्योंकि मैं उसे जानता हूँ')
My attempt at a translation:
Every morning I live a bit in the past--
because every evening I die a bit in the future.
------------------------------------------------------------------
एक दिन, और दिनों सा
आयु का एक बरस ले चला गया
(from: ??)
My attempt at a translation:
A day, like any other
Took away a year of life in its wake.
------------------------------------------------------------------
कैसा है यह ज़माना
कैसा है यह ज़माना
कि लोग इसे भी प्यार की कविता मानेंगे!
पर कैसा है यह ज़माना
कि हम ऐसी ही कविता में अपना प्यार पहचानेंगे
(from: 'सागर-मुद्रा')
My attempt at a translation:
What a world it is
that people will consider even this to be a love-poem
But what a world it is
that we shall indeed see the reflection of love in such a poem.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Prose works:
I would recommend that Agyeya enthusiasts read his essay मेरी पहली कविता (My First Poem), which is the opening essay in the collection आत्मनेपद, if they haven't already done so. In this essay he recounts how, at the age of four, he composed his first poem, unknowingly. He had been given a spinning top to play with by a relative, who told him that the toy was called "bhumiri". While playing with it, and reveling in his ability to make it spin, he started clapping and chanting:
"नाचत है भुमिरि, नाचत है भुमिरि।"
He did not find words beyond that, but it dawned on him that it was not merely his top ("bhumiri") that was spinning, the Earth ("bhoomi ri") is also spinning; the whole Universe is engaged in a cosmic dance of sorts. In an ordinary sentence, he isolated a profound meaning. And he realized the power of words.
An excerpt from Apne Apne Ajnabi:
"समय मात्र अनुभव है, इतिहास है. इस सन्दर्भ में 'क्षण' वही है जिसमें अनुभव तो है लेकिन जिसका इतिहास नहीं है, जिसका भूत-भविष्य कुछ नहीं है; जो शुद्ध वर्तमान है, इतिहास से परे, स्मृति के संसर्ग से अढूषित, संसार से मुक्त. अगर ऐसा नहीं है, तो वह क्षण नहीं है, क्योंकि वह काल का कितना ही छोटा खंड क्यों न हो, उसमें मेरा जीना काल-सापेक्ष जीना है, ऐतिहासिक जीना है. वह बिन्दु नहीं है, रेखा है; रेखा परम्परा है और क्षण परम्परा-मुक्त होना चाहिए."
My attempt at a translation:
Time is but experience, and history. In this context, a moment is that which has experience but no history, which has no past or future, which is purely the present, transcending history, not tainted by memory, free of the rest of the world. If it is not so, then it is not a moment, because however small an interval of time it may be, my living through it is a passage through time, with a historical context attached to it. It is not a point, but a line; a line embodies tradition and a moment must be free of tradition.
दूर्वाचल
पार्श्व गिरि का नम्र:
चीड़ों में डगर चढ़ती उमंगों सी.
बिची पैरों में नदी, ज्यों दर्द की रेखा.
विहग-शिशु मौन नीड़ों में.
मैंने आँख-भर देखा.
दिया मन को दिलासा--पुनः आऊंगा
भले ही बरस-दिन--अनगिन युगों के बाद.
क्षितिज ने पलक सी खोली
तमक कर दामिनी बोली:
'अरे यायावर, रहेगा याद?'
(from the anthology: 'इंद्रधनु रौंदे हुए ये')
My attempt at an English translation:
The quiet mountain background:
amidst the pines, the trail rising exuberantly.
The river spread at my feet, as though
the Earth's face were crinkled with pain.
The fledgelings were quiet in their nests.
I took it all in to my eyes' content.
Consoled myself--I would come again
though it be days-months--ages hence.
The Horizon seemed to come alive
the Lightning said derisively:
'Oh wanderer, will you remember?'
Misc. short poems
--------------------------
सांझ-सवेरे
रोज़-सवेरे मैं थोड़ा-सा अतीत में जी लेता हूँ--
क्योंकि रोज़-शाम को मैं थोड़ा-सा भविष्य में मर जाता हूँ.
(from: 'क्योंकि मैं उसे जानता हूँ')
My attempt at a translation:
Every morning I live a bit in the past--
because every evening I die a bit in the future.
------------------------------------------------------------------
एक दिन, और दिनों सा
आयु का एक बरस ले चला गया
(from: ??)
My attempt at a translation:
A day, like any other
Took away a year of life in its wake.
------------------------------------------------------------------
कैसा है यह ज़माना
कैसा है यह ज़माना
कि लोग इसे भी प्यार की कविता मानेंगे!
पर कैसा है यह ज़माना
कि हम ऐसी ही कविता में अपना प्यार पहचानेंगे
(from: 'सागर-मुद्रा')
My attempt at a translation:
What a world it is
that people will consider even this to be a love-poem
But what a world it is
that we shall indeed see the reflection of love in such a poem.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Prose works:
I would recommend that Agyeya enthusiasts read his essay मेरी पहली कविता (My First Poem), which is the opening essay in the collection आत्मनेपद, if they haven't already done so. In this essay he recounts how, at the age of four, he composed his first poem, unknowingly. He had been given a spinning top to play with by a relative, who told him that the toy was called "bhumiri". While playing with it, and reveling in his ability to make it spin, he started clapping and chanting:
"नाचत है भुमिरि, नाचत है भुमिरि।"
He did not find words beyond that, but it dawned on him that it was not merely his top ("bhumiri") that was spinning, the Earth ("bhoomi ri") is also spinning; the whole Universe is engaged in a cosmic dance of sorts. In an ordinary sentence, he isolated a profound meaning. And he realized the power of words.
An excerpt from Apne Apne Ajnabi:
"समय मात्र अनुभव है, इतिहास है. इस सन्दर्भ में 'क्षण' वही है जिसमें अनुभव तो है लेकिन जिसका इतिहास नहीं है, जिसका भूत-भविष्य कुछ नहीं है; जो शुद्ध वर्तमान है, इतिहास से परे, स्मृति के संसर्ग से अढूषित, संसार से मुक्त. अगर ऐसा नहीं है, तो वह क्षण नहीं है, क्योंकि वह काल का कितना ही छोटा खंड क्यों न हो, उसमें मेरा जीना काल-सापेक्ष जीना है, ऐतिहासिक जीना है. वह बिन्दु नहीं है, रेखा है; रेखा परम्परा है और क्षण परम्परा-मुक्त होना चाहिए."
My attempt at a translation:
Time is but experience, and history. In this context, a moment is that which has experience but no history, which has no past or future, which is purely the present, transcending history, not tainted by memory, free of the rest of the world. If it is not so, then it is not a moment, because however small an interval of time it may be, my living through it is a passage through time, with a historical context attached to it. It is not a point, but a line; a line embodies tradition and a moment must be free of tradition.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Mahadevi
I realized that I haven't posted anything about Mahadevi Varma on this blog so far. This seems like a good time to rectify this. Mahadevi was a great poetess...one of the four so-called pillars of chhayavaad. She is also often referred to as the modern Meerabai since much of her poetry addresses the soul's search for communion with the almighty. Apart from poetry she also wrote prose. I really enjoyed reading the various anthologies of vignettes regarding people she had encountered at various stages of life (Ateet ke Chalchitra, Smriti ki Rekhaen) as well as those describing her various pets (Mera Parivaar). Amongst those that stand out in my mind are the touching story of the little girl Binda, and the tale of Gillu the squirrel.
Mahadevi's use of language has a great lyrical quality, and is also able to convey great depth of emotion. Here I quote a few lines from one of her poems which illustrates why she was the आधुनिक मीराबाई:
तुम दुःख बन इस पथ से आना
शूलों में नित् मृदु पाटल सा
खिलने देना मेरा जीवन
वह हार बनेगा क्या जिसने सीखा न हृदय को बिधवाना
नित् जलता रहने दो तिल-तिल
अपनी ज्वाला में उर मेरा
उसकी विभूति में फिर आकर
अपने पद-चिह्न बना जाना।
वर देते हो तो कर दो ना
चिर आँख-मिचौनी यह अपनी
जीवन में खोज तुम्हारी है
मिटना ही तुम को छू पाना।
Mahadevi's use of language has a great lyrical quality, and is also able to convey great depth of emotion. Here I quote a few lines from one of her poems which illustrates why she was the आधुनिक मीराबाई:
तुम दुःख बन इस पथ से आना
शूलों में नित् मृदु पाटल सा
खिलने देना मेरा जीवन
वह हार बनेगा क्या जिसने सीखा न हृदय को बिधवाना
नित् जलता रहने दो तिल-तिल
अपनी ज्वाला में उर मेरा
उसकी विभूति में फिर आकर
अपने पद-चिह्न बना जाना।
वर देते हो तो कर दो ना
चिर आँख-मिचौनी यह अपनी
जीवन में खोज तुम्हारी है
मिटना ही तुम को छू पाना।
I am back to quoting Agyeya. Here is an excerpt from his novella "Apne-Apne Ajnabi" ("अपने-अपने अजनबी"):
समय मात्र अनुभव है, इतिहास है। इस सन्दर्भ में 'क्षण' वही है जिसमें अनुभव तो है लेकिन जिसका इतिहास नहीं है, जिसका भूत-भविष्य कुछ नहीं है; जो शुद्ध वर्तमान है, इतिहास से परे, स्मृति के संसर्ग से अढूषित, संसार से मुक्त। अगर ऐसा नहीं है, तो वह क्षण नहीं है, क्योंकि वह काल का कितना ही छोटा खंड क्यों न हो, उसमें मेरा जीना काल-सापेक्ष जीना है, ऐतिहासिक जीना है. वह बिन्दु नहीं है, रेखा है; रेखा परम्परा है और क्षण परम्परा-मुक्त होना चाहिए।
My attempt at a translation of the above:
Time is but experience, and history. In this context, a moment is that which has experience but no history, which has no past or future, which is purely the present, transcending history, not tainted by memory, free of the rest of the world. If it is not so, then it is not a moment, because however small an interval of time it may be, my living through it is a passage through time, with a historical context attached to it. It is not a point, but a line; a line embodies tradition and a moment must be free of tradition.
समय मात्र अनुभव है, इतिहास है। इस सन्दर्भ में 'क्षण' वही है जिसमें अनुभव तो है लेकिन जिसका इतिहास नहीं है, जिसका भूत-भविष्य कुछ नहीं है; जो शुद्ध वर्तमान है, इतिहास से परे, स्मृति के संसर्ग से अढूषित, संसार से मुक्त। अगर ऐसा नहीं है, तो वह क्षण नहीं है, क्योंकि वह काल का कितना ही छोटा खंड क्यों न हो, उसमें मेरा जीना काल-सापेक्ष जीना है, ऐतिहासिक जीना है. वह बिन्दु नहीं है, रेखा है; रेखा परम्परा है और क्षण परम्परा-मुक्त होना चाहिए।
My attempt at a translation of the above:
Time is but experience, and history. In this context, a moment is that which has experience but no history, which has no past or future, which is purely the present, transcending history, not tainted by memory, free of the rest of the world. If it is not so, then it is not a moment, because however small an interval of time it may be, my living through it is a passage through time, with a historical context attached to it. It is not a point, but a line; a line embodies tradition and a moment must be free of tradition.
Monday, December 8, 2008
After a long hiatus, I am back to posting on this blog again. Instead of giving in to the temptation of quoting another poem by Agyeya, I will instead quote from another great poet who contributed immensely to Hindi poetry: Suryakant Tripathi 'Nirala'. Nirala's poetry stands out amongst his contemporaries both thematically and stylistically. I think he may have been one of the first few Hindi poets to use blank verse extensively. His poems also often highlighted social issues.
I quote here a passage from a poem by him that I read as part of school curriculum. Simple, yet eloquent, and very moving, it describes the plight of a poor beggar:
I quote here a passage from a poem by him that I read as part of school curriculum. Simple, yet eloquent, and very moving, it describes the plight of a poor beggar:
वह आता,
दो टूक कलेजे के करता
पछताता पथ पर आता।
पेट पीठ दोनों मिल कर हैं एक
चल रहा लकुटिया टेक
मुट्ठी भर दाने को
भूख मिटाने को
मुह फटी-पुरानी झोली का फैलाता।
वह आता,
दो टूक कलेजे के करता
पछताता पथ पर आता।
Monday, December 31, 2007
Another poem by Agyeya
I felt like posting something more on the poetry of Agyeya. The poem whose excerpt I am posting below can be read as the poet's affirmation of the relative and subjective nature of truth, as well as the belief that the only real personal truth is that distilled through one's own experiences and introspection. Interestingly, similar themes of trying to discover "truth" pervade many of his poems, providing a glimpse of his own view of his personal search for a unique poetic vision.
Here is the excerpt (the boldface emphasis is mine):
खोज में जब निकल ही आया
सत्य तो बहुत मिले।
.........
.........
सब सत्य रहे - कहे, अनकहे।
खोज में जब निकल ही आया
सत्य तो बहुत मिले।
पर तुम -
नभ के तुम कि गुहा-गह्वर के तुम, मोम के तुम, पत्थर के तुम -
तुम किसी देवता से नहीं निकले:
तुम मेरे साथ मेरे ही आँसू में गले, मेरे ही रक्त पर पले
अनुभव के दाह पर क्षण-क्षण उकसती
मेरी अशमित चिता पर तुम मेरे ही साथ जले।
तुम -
तुम्हे तो भस्म हो मैंने फिर अपनी भभूत में पाया।
अंग रमाया।
- तभी पाया।
खोज में जब निकल ही आया
सत्य तो बहुत मिले - एक ही पाया।
Here is the excerpt (the boldface emphasis is mine):
खोज में जब निकल ही आया
सत्य तो बहुत मिले।
.........
.........
सब सत्य रहे - कहे, अनकहे।
खोज में जब निकल ही आया
सत्य तो बहुत मिले।
पर तुम -
नभ के तुम कि गुहा-गह्वर के तुम, मोम के तुम, पत्थर के तुम -
तुम किसी देवता से नहीं निकले:
तुम मेरे साथ मेरे ही आँसू में गले, मेरे ही रक्त पर पले
अनुभव के दाह पर क्षण-क्षण उकसती
मेरी अशमित चिता पर तुम मेरे ही साथ जले।
तुम -
तुम्हे तो भस्म हो मैंने फिर अपनी भभूत में पाया।
अंग रमाया।
- तभी पाया।
खोज में जब निकल ही आया
सत्य तो बहुत मिले - एक ही पाया।
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Meta-fiction in Hindi
I was musing about instances of meta-fiction in Hindi, and decided to jot down a few that might occur to me.
- A major one that comes to mind is Dharamvir Bharati's novella Suraj ka Saatva Ghoda (The Seventh Steed of the Sun). One of the most unforgettable sentences in the novella was the rather tongue-in-cheek definition of a story as a progression from nothingness through a beginning, middle, and end, to the waste-paper basket. Moreover, this work is an interesting study in the relationship between narrative, narrator, and reader. I read it a long time ago (and saw the movie based on it even earlier), and so am currently not in a position to write a detailed exposition. Will do so when I have had a chance to re-read it.
- Some of Agyeya's poems deal with themes related to the creation and interpretation of literature, e.g., Naya Kavi: Aatma-sweekar and Shabda aur Satya.
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