Shah Hussain's Poetry
Shah Hussain's Poetry
Shah Hussain's Poetry
SHAH HUSAIN
By: Najm Hosain Syed
From his book: Recurrent Patterns In Punjabi Poetry
In the new Lahore lies buried Shah Husain and with him lies buried the myth of Lal Husain. Still, at
least once a year we can hear the defused echoes of the myth. As the lights glimmer on the walls of
Shalamar, the unsophisticated rhythms of swinging bodies and exulting voices curiously insist on being
associated with Husain. This instance apparently defies explanation. But one is aware that an undertone
of mockery pervades the air - released feet mocking the ancient sods of Shalamar and released voices
mocking its ancient walls. Husain too, the myth tells us, danced a dance of mockery in the ancient streets
of Lahore. Grandson of a convert weaver, he embarrassed every one by aspiring to the privilege of
learning what he revered guardians of traditional knowledge claimed to teach.
Then again, fairly late in life, he embarrassed every one by refusing to believe in the knowledge he had
received from others, and decided to know for himself. He plucked the forbidden fruit anew.
The myth of Lal Husain has lived a defused, half-conscious life in the annual Fare of Lights. The poetry
of shah Husain which was born out of common songs of the people of the Punjab has kept itself alive by
becoming a part of those very songs. In recent past, the myth of Madhu Lal Husain and the poetry of
Husain have come to be connected. But the time for the myth to become really alive in our community is
still to come.
Husain s poetry consists entirely of short poems known as "Kafis." A typical Husain Kafi contains a
refrain and some rhymed lines. The number of rhymed lines is usually from four to ten. Only
occasionally a more complete form is adopted. To the eye of a reader, the structure of a "Kafi" appears
simple. But the "Kafis" of Husain are not intended for the eye. They are designed as musical
compositions to be interpreted by the singing voice. The rhythm in the refrain and in the lines are so
balanced and counterpointed as to bring about a varying, evolving musical pattern.
It may be asserted that poetry is often written to be sung. And all poetry carries, through manipulation of
sound effects, some suggestion of music. Where then lies the point in noticing the music in the "Kafis"
of Shah Husain? Precisely in this: Husain s music is deliberate - not in the sense that it is induced by
verbal trickery but in the sense that it is the central factor in the poet s meaning.
The music that we have here is not the vague suggestion of melodiousness one commonly associates
with the adjective "lyrical : it is the symbolic utterance of a living social tradition. The "Kafis" draw for
their musical pattern on the Punjabi folk songs. The Punjabi folk songs embody and recall the emotional
experience of the community. They record the reactions to the cycle of birth, blossoming, decay and
death. They observe the play of human desire against the backdrop of this cycle, symbolizing through
their rhythms the rhythms of despair and exultation, nostalgia and hope, questioning and faith. These
songs comprehend the three dimensions of time - looking back into past and ahead into future and
relating the present to both. Also, these songs record the individual s awareness of the various social
institutions and affiliations and clinging to them at the same time - asserting his own separate identity
and also seeking harmony with what is socially established.
Through this deliberate rhythmic design, Shah Husain evokes the symbolic music of the Punjabi folk
songs. His "Kafis" live within this symbolic background and use it for evolving their own meaning.
By calling into life the voice of the folk-singer, Husain involves his listeners into the age-old tension
which individual emotions have borne it its conflicts with the unchanging realities of Time and Society.
But then, suddenly one is aware of a change. One hears another different voice also. It is the voice of
Husain himself, apparently humanized with the voice of the folk-singer, and yet transcending it. The
voice of the folk-singer has for ages protested against the bondage of the actual, but its fleeting sallies
into the freedom of the possible have always been a torturing illusion. The voice of the folk-singer is
dragged back to its bondage almost willingly, because it is aware of the illusory nature of its freedom
and is reluctant run after a shade, fearing the complete loss of its identity. The voice of Shah Husain is
transcending folk-singer s voice brings into being the dimension of freedom - rendering actual what had
for long remained only possible:
At first , the little "Kafi" deftly suggests the underlying folk-song patter. The usual figures in the
marriage song - the girls, the mother, the perspective husband and the perspective in-laws are all there.
And the refrain calls the plaintive marriage-song address of the girl to he mother on the eve of her
departure from the parents house.
But the folk-song pattern remains at the level of an underlying suggestion. The mother and the daughter
in the folk-song were both helpless votaries of an accepted convention, bowing before the acknowledged
power of an unchanging order. Here in the "Kafi" the daughter assumes the power of choice and
rejection. She stands outsides the cycles of time and society. The mother continues to represent the
social order and the accepted attitudes according to her convictions, the Kheras offer the best possible
future for her daughter because they assure mundane security and prestige, within a decaying order. But
the daughter I snow determined to go beyond this order and seek further inner development. To her the
Kheras, her unacceptable in-laws, represent the tyranny of the actual forced on the individual. To her,
Ranjha, the socially condemned cowherd, represents the consummation of her revolt, promising a union
which is the real inner fulfillment. The accepted attitudes are based on a superficial vision,
which takes appearance to be the only reality. Ranjha, who always hides his real self behind the shabby
garb of a jogi or a cowherd can never be understood and can never be preferred to the wealthy Kheras.
His real identity is a mystery that can be realized only in Heer s individual emotions. And for such a
realization, a conscious break with the order of appearances is a prerequisite. Husain s triumph is
achieved, not by evading the bondage s of the actual but by suffering them and finally transforming
them. The mother remains a part of the daughter s consciousness - in addressing her she addresses
herself. But this part of her consciousness is now subjected to more vital individual self. In the refrain:
Nights swell and merge into each other as I stand a wait for him.
Since the day Ranjha became jogi, I have scarcely been my old self and people every where call me
crazy. My young flesh crept into creases leaving my young bones a creaking skeleton. I was too young
to know the ways of love; and now as the nights swell and merge into each other, I play host to that
unkind guest - separation.
The slower tempo of the refrain sets the mood of the "Kafi." The voice of the singer stretches in an
ecstasy of suffering along the lengthening vowel sounds. The vowel sounds initiated by the refrain are
taken up by rhythms and several other words.
The Heer-Ranjha motif is used here in a different emotional background. The intense loneliness here
contrasts sharply with the confidence of fulfillment shown in the earlier "Kafi." Here people s
preoccupation with appearances is not treated with indifference;
instead it adds to the plain. But in the notes of suffering, there is a strange quality of single-mindedness.
One is not aware of any fidgety second thoughts. The plain does not evince any desperation: in fact there
is an air of contemplative pose, born out of the awesome finality of commitment.
In another "Kafi" using the Heer-Ranjha motif, we are taken back to a still earlier stage of the poet s
emotional Odyssey:
Travelers, I too have to go; I have to go to the solitary hut of Ranjha. Is there any one who will go
with me? I have begged many to accompany me and now I set out alone. Travelers, is there no one
who could go with me?
The River is deep and the shaky bridge creaks as people step on it. And the ferry is a known haunt of
tigers. Will no one go with me to the lonely hut of Ranjha?
During long nights I have been tortured by my raw wounds. I have heard he in his lonely hut knows
the sure remedy. Will no one come with me, travelers? <
The folk-song locale is present here in the shape of a river, a ferry and a batch of travelers. The travelers
gather to set off to remote places for business, duty and other reasons. And there is the self conscious
girl who comes daily to hear some chance gossip drop a word about her friend. The river for centuries
has flowed between desire and fulfillment. No one knows where it goes; it has no beginning and no end.
The river is ancient and unfathomable - holding mysterious dangers. It causes both life and death but
shows a fascinating indifference that compels awed men and women to kneel and worship the river.
There is another reason for this homage. The river bounds the village. It limits and defines the known
and tried capacities of humanity. The girl s father has no possessions beyond the river. What she was
born with lies placidly marked this side of the river. What is beyond, is vaguely threatening. But this
hazardous unknown fascinates the girl and seeks to lure her out of the complacent peace she was born
with.
But the girl in the "Kafi" differs from the girl in the folk-song in one vital respect. The girl in the folk-
song has for ages, waited on this side of the river. She visits the ferry and moves among the travelers
with questioning looks. But in her words and looks there lurks the knowledge of perpetual impossibility,
the acknowledge that desire is never more than a wish is often less than it. The girl in the "Kafi" is
prepared to bridge the gap between desire and attainment. She too is aware of the hazards of her ways
but for her he imperative need to set out has become the supreme fact.
The image of a patient, desperately looking for a last remedy contains subtle implications. When Heer
fakes illness in the house of her in-laws, Ranjha the fake jogi was approached for some magic cure. Heer
was cured in a way the people did not foresee and her illness turned out to be of an unexpected nature.
Those believing in appearances as the only reality were given a dramatic lesson. Here in the "Kafi", the
metaphorical background is recreated. The girl earnestly wishes to align herself with ordinary motives
and measures. But the uncommon purpose of her journey and the uncommon destination still stand out
among the group of travelers. Her request for some one to accompany her only throws into stranger
relief her unique loneliness.
The ecstatic rhythm brings to the refrain a tone of finality, a finality comparable to that of death. The
journey across the river is a transition as radical as death. The two worlds of experience are as different
from each other as the familiar life and the unknown beyond. (1959)