They tried to bury us. They did not know we were seeds. As Wani Nazir takes help from this Mexican proverb, one understands he has to convey a deep meaning. He then pens down the poem ,namesake of famous Frenz Kafka story, Metamorphoses ;
They buried me .
But !
Little knew
That I am a seed
With latent aromatic chemistry
In my tiny cells
That I will sprout
Into a yemberzal plant,
That I will fill the environs
With my blissful fragrance !
Going through his poetic collection “….and the silence whispered” one feels he is filling the environs with his blissful fragrance. The poet creates a hope that his parched land has experienced a rainfall to germinate the seeds of ideas.
The rains now ceased and shone the sun ,
A harvest of roses and jasmines
Sprouted in profusion all around
The book is spread over 126 pages published, on good quality paper, by Global fraternity of Poets, Haryana.
Nazir does not delve in all smiles and romance in his poems but throws light on, rather dissects, the varied subjects .At times he laments, cries, howls and at other point of time he sobs silently or surrenders to the brutal events of life .His vocabulary ,strong with a treasure of words, makes us feel the deep wounds and steadily opens the invisible scars.
Nazir visits his own land and describes the condition of around eight thousand Half Widows who are in a state of trauma not knowing whereabouts of their husbands, sons, brothers and dear ones. These women sob in pain and bear in silence .Sometimes telling lies to their half orphan children about the gifts like toys and sometimes remembering the spouse lost in fake encounters. The poem ‘A Lament’ reads;
No more is she full of life
She has lost her dear hubby
In some fake orchestrated encounter
Leaving behind his wife and kid
Poem ‘A widow and her coaxing Tale’ reads;
By selling unreal false hopes
That she would buy a toy for him
Once his Papa comes home back
The tragic situation is such that unknowingly the little boy reshapes the canvas and the silence of the poet ends up with sighs and sobs.
A short story Neiw Bemari (new disease ) by Akhtar Mohidin traverses the mind of a person who wants to be frisked and ends up searching his person when no security person is there at his own door. Nazir is influenced by a similar psychological disorder to declare his newspaper, full of sanguinary reports, as if his own room has been filled with dead corpses. And so calls the Good Morning as ‘Good Mourning’
Wearing his innocent chuckling face
Little knowing that he does fill,
His father’s so spacious a room,
With a heap of dead bodies.
And, in such an environment, his desire for a sudden death is not fulfilled. As he yearns for end to his life the conversation between him and the angel of death explains his bipolar state of mind. He takes help from Ghalib Stanza Aie Margi nagahani tujhay kya intizar hai (O,sudden death what are you waiting for ?).
But, the angel of death whispers
And asks my so shattered self:
How can death take you away
With a load of gnawing miseries.
Japanese genre of five line poem Tanka is intelligently used to describe his beloved Kashmir ;
My eyes smolder for
Youth crimson dripping blood,
Drenching all the streets
Of the piece of land I live,
Which the world knows as Kashmir
Rush hour at drapers shop, with sale
of shrouds going on, is another expression about death and despair in
his motherland ;
As usual ,bustling today as well
Is the drapers shop
With a throng of customers
Buying the shrouds
Nazir’s eyes don’t rest on only the river in my backyard flowing red but sets his watchful eyes on Palestine and Syria also where dirty politics and hegemony rips apart the tender souls as well as the hapless and harmless people.
‘Poet: The redeemer’ ridicules the anarchy and feels the pain .
Syria here ,Palestine there
France here, the US there
Where human souls are rent apart,
Along with the world ,Kashmir too
Where the Jhelum has turned red
Nazir wades through rough and tough paths of Hindu philosophy on one hand and traverses the Zeeth, Kreeth and Meeth wath (long, difficult and sweet path ) of Sufism. He talks in soliloquy to the drop of rain asking it about the vortex he is caught in . And whether it will be blessed with Mukti and freed ever. He, in fact, likens his own soul to the drop and yearns for the freedom. He is seeking the ultimate truth from the Maya jaal in the vast universe (Brahmaan). His poem ‘Trans migration’ reads;
O Drop of rain ! What cosmic order do you follow?
Are you too imprisoned in “ Awagaman” ?
Will you never achieve “Mukti” like me ?
Noted Kashmiri poet Fazil Kashmiri writes Akh Khuda Tcharun Te Bayi Dunya Basawun Mushkila (It is very difficult to run the affairs of world and follow the path of divine blessings). Nazir too is getting glued to the worldly temptations .In his poem ‘My story’ he shows his helplessness when he tells;
I am the precursor of that first man,
Who consistently fall prey
To the temptations of Satan,
I am again and again
Cast out of Garden of Eden
World famous comic actor Charlie Chaplin said , “ I always like walking in rain, so no one can see me crying .” But Nazir is caught in a complex situation as his city is smoldering ,so he calls out to his city dwellers to come and weep so that the fire could be extinguished .
O, Dwellers !
Come and weep with me in chorus,
Let’s shed rivulets of tears all
And fill our pails upto their brim;
Ay! Nothing but our tears can extinguish
The conflagration
In the process Nazir pins hopes on great Charlie to return to life as the sobbing world needs him .Like a drowning man catches at a straw the poet ignores Charlie’s own quotes and writes;
O Chalie Chaplin !
The whole audience desperately
Pants for the “ comic relief”
Make us laugh,
Let our day not be wasted.
But Nazir disappoints me with his poem “Despondency”. As the title goes he shows not only his helplessness and low spirits but even his faith trembles .As words of Adhan don’t infuse spirituality or cultivate a resurrection the waywardness of humans is galore.
Despite the fact that Wani Nazir is caught in deep dejection at times he has produced excellent poetry which portrays various aspects of life.
ABOUT THE REVIEWER
Shafi Ahmad is the author of “The Half Widow” and can be mailed at wanishafi999@gmail.com
