The Dawn: July 2, 2018
PUNJAB NOTES: Children stories from the East and poetry from the SouthMushtaq Soofi
Writing for children in any language is a complex undertaking for the simple reason that task involved demands (a) complete grasp of the content, (b) disarming simplicity in communicating the content. Whatever format you adopt simplicity is the key. How difficult it is to be a child again while being an adult! Mind of an adult and imagination of a child perhaps can do the trick. Dr. Harshindar Kaur, a paediatrician, writes wonderful stories for children. Her latest book titled ‘Dr. Maasi Dian Kahanian’ has been published by Punjabi Bal Adbi Board, Lahore. The book has been transliterated from Gurmukhi script by Kalya Singh Kalyan, a scholar and lecturer at Government College University, Lahore. Dr. Kaur is daughter of Professor Pritam Singh, a respected scholar. A fascinating thing about the book is that when you take her stories as fiction they turn out to be scientific stuff and when you see them as an attempt at teaching of science they imperceptibly lead you to a world of parables. The subject of Dr. Kaur’s stories is human organs; how they function and sustain human life. Looks boring? Not at all the way she constructs her fictive world out of scientific lore. To tell her stories she adopts the ancient format of parable especially ‘Panjh Tantra’ where in the words of author, “moon and stars, trees and bushes, birds and predators all conversed with one another…Children found nothing unusual and unnatural in this phenomenon… But as man got estranged from the nature it stopped talking to him… But the child retained his nature.” She has written a new Punjh Tantra for children inspired by the world of medical knowledge and imagination. Just look at some of the contents of her book: ‘Thus spoke Boota’s kidneys, When the tooth spoke, Boota’s liver spoke, Boota’s lungs spoke…’. Dr. Harshindar Kaur’s book is a little treasure trove for children as well as lay readers. It stirs both mind and imagination. Every home must have this book at its table. Read out these stories to your kids and see what happens. Javed Asif is a well-known Saraiki poet and fiction writer from Rajanpur, a district on the periphery of Punjab. His latest book of verses ‘Khaaray Charhdi Sikk’ published by Jhok Publications, Multan, makes an impactful read in the sense that it expresses the experiences steeped in local culture that hitherto has had more of deprivations and sorrows than goodies of modern life. The title reminds one of Hafiz Barkhurdar’s tale of Sahiban where a character says about the protagonist’s elopement; ‘Khaaray Charhdi Laye Gia Kharral Harami Chor’. The poet employs for his self-expression diverse genres such as ‘Ghazal’, poem and quartet. But he like so many other Saraiki and Punjabi poets seems to be enamoured of ‘Ghazal’ which borrowed from Persian and Urdu literary traditions is gaining currency among the poets who are attracted by what sells at the literary Bazar. This form of expression is non-existent in the long literary tradition of Punjab. It’s acceptance by a sizable chunk of literati simply reaffirms the fact how the language of the dominant intervenes in the literary process of the dominated and diverts it from its natural course. Saraiki poets especially the young ones may learn a thing or two from the seniors such as Abid Ameeq, Irshad Taunsvi and Ashu Lal who refusing to pander to the dictates of literary market have been able to create poetry that reflects dynamic tradition laced with contemporaneity and modernity. Javed Asif is a poet rooted in the soil whose verses carry cultural nuances that have the potential to transcend the colloquial. “Do not think, we, the poets, will compose a celebratory song for you/expect no wedding song or lyrics from us/you are mistaken if you wait for a waft of happiness from us/our task is to turn a celebratory noise into a lament, a festive occasion into mourning/we have nothing but firewood of sorrows/our task is to spread despair among people/how can we savour the glow of joy on your faces/we, the composers of elegies, don’t know how to sing of happiness?”. If Javed Asif can compose such a good poem with a subtle touch of sarcasm, he will be well-advised to make an effort to get rid of kitsch handed down by the traditional. Article continues after ad Sagir Tabessum’s ‘Jiundian Mardian Aasan’, another book of poetry from the South Punjab [Bahawalnagar], published by Maktaba-e-Roshan Khayaal, Lahore, paints a landscape of a far-flung peripheral area where life seems stagnant. Societal still waters offer a desolate sight of illusive ripples of more of the same. Poverty, deprivation and sufferings emerge as ineluctable human lot. The defining feature of his poetry is his socio-political consciousness. Afzal Rajput, a well-known Punjabi poet and fiction writer, rightly points to such a fact when he says that Tabessum’s poetry represents the deprived classes and voices the voiceless. Poet’s world, exposed and unprotected, is always vulnerable to intrusion by exploitative forces which are inevitable outcome of iniquitous social order. A palpable fear of being invaded by what dehumanises the humans stalks his poetic landscape. ‘Bell the sorrows/they sneak in quietly and demolish our settlement’, he says in one of his short poems. He not only identifies with the wretched but also strives to unearth the causes of wretchedness. ‘The river is our home but our fields are dry and parched/the dust swirls around and sand twirls in the air’, is how he describes the inhabitants who live on banks of the Sutlej, once a roaring river gone dry as a result of accord between Pakistan and India on the sharing of what rivers offer; the water. Sagir Tabessum is organically linked with his people and expresses their sufferings, aspirations and dreams in a poetic idiom which is both accessible and provoking. What he perhaps needs is to jettison some of the traditional poetic conventions in order to capture the zeitgeist of contemporary age. Do go through his book. He is quite a readable poet. — soofi01@hotmail.com |