Ghazal
गई यक-ब-यक जो हवा पलट नहीं दिल को मेरे क़रार है
This poignant ghazal laments the catastrophic aftermath of the 1857 uprising and the sudden political ruin of Delhi. The poet expresses profound grief over the brutal atrocities and mass executions inflicted upon the helpless Indian populace by colonial rulers.
Source: rekhta · HI
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1
गई यक-ब-यक जो हवा पलट नहीं दिल को मेरे क़रार है
करूँ उस सितम को मैं क्या बयाँ मिरा ग़म से सीना फ़िगार है
As the wind has turned all of a sudden, my heart finds no repose; / How shall I recount that cruelty, when grief has torn my breast?
As the situation changed all of a sudden, my heart has found no peace; how can I describe this cruelty when my chest is wounded with grief?
2
ये रेआया-ए-हिन्द तबह हुई कहूँ क्या जो इन पे जफ़ा हुई
जिसे देखा हाकिम-ए-वक़्त ने कहा ये भी क़ाबिल-ए-दार है
Ruined are the people of Hind, how can I recount the cruelties they bore; whomever the ruler of the age beheld, he decreed: 'This one too deserves the gallows!'
The people of India have been ruined, and words fail to describe the oppression inflicted upon them. Whomever the ruler of the time laid eyes upon, he decreed that this person too deserves the gallows.
3
ये किसी ने ज़ुल्म भी है सुना कि दी फाँसी लोगों को बे-गुनाह
वही कलमा-गोयों की सम्त से अभी दिल में उन के बुख़ार है
Has anyone ever heard of such tyranny, that the innocent are sent to the gallows? / Still in their hearts smolders that bitter malice against all who confess the creed.
Has anyone ever heard of such injustice, that innocent people are sent to the gallows? It seems their hearts still harbor deep-seated resentment and hatred toward those who recite the kalima (Muslims).
4
न था शहर-ए-देहली ये था चमन कहो किस तरह का था याँ अमन
जो ख़िताब था वो मिटा दिया फ़क़त अब तो उजड़ा दयार है
Delhi was no mere city, but a flourishing garden; speak of the peace that once reigned here! / The title it proudly bore has been erased; now it remains nothing but a desolate realm.
Delhi was not merely a city but a flourishing garden, blessed once with great peace. Its proud title and identity have now been erased, leaving behind nothing but a desolate, ruined land.
5
यही तंग हाल जो सब का है ये करिश्मा क़ुदरत-ए-रब का है
जो बहार थी सो ख़िज़ाँ हुई जो ख़िज़ाँ थी अब वो बहार है
This straitened plight that burdens all is a wonder of God's decree: what once was spring has turned to autumn, and what was autumn now blooms anew.
This straitened and difficult condition that everyone faces is a marvel of God's divine power; what was once spring has turned into autumn, and what was autumn is now spring.
6
शब-ओ-रोज़ फूल में जो तुले कहो ख़ार-ए-ग़म को वो क्या सहे
मिले तौक़ क़ैद में जब उन्हें कहा गुल के बदले ये हार है
One weighed against blossoms day and night—say, how could they bear sorrow's piercing thorn? / When clamped in an iron yoke in prison, they smiled: 'In place of flowers, this garland is worn.'
How could someone who was weighed against flowers day and night bear the thorn of sorrow; yet when placed in an iron collar in prison, they accepted it saying it was merely a garland in place of flowers.
7
सभी जादा मातम-ए-सख़्त है कहो कैसी गर्दिश-ए-बख़्त है
न वो ताज है न वो तख़्त है न वह शाह है न दयार है
Every path is shrouded in bitter grief, what a cruel turn of fate is this; gone is the crown, gone the throne, gone the king, and gone the realm.
Every path is in deep mourning; say, what kind of ill-turn of fate is this? Neither that crown remains, nor that throne; neither that king exists, nor that homeland.
8
जो सुलूक करते थे और से वही अब हैं कितने ज़लील से
वो हैं तंग चर्ख़ के जौर से रहा तन पे उन के न तार है
Those who once treated others with disdain now suffer so abject a plight; crushed by the cruel wheel of fate, not a single thread covers their frame.
Those who once mistreated others are now themselves deeply humiliated; distressed by the cruelty of fate, they do not even have a thread of clothing left on their bodies.
9
न वबाल तन पे है सर मिरा नहीं जान जाने का डर ज़रा
कटे ग़म ही, निकले जो दम मिरा मुझे अपनी ज़िंदगी बार है
No burden is this head upon my frame, nor do I fear that my life depart; my grief would end if my breath should cease—for this living weighs heavy upon my heart.
My head is not a burden upon my body, nor do I have the slightest fear of dying. If I die, it will only end my sorrows, because my life has become a heavy burden to me.
10
क्या है ग़म 'ज़फ़र' तुझे हश्र का जो ख़ुदा ने चाहा तो बरमला
हमें है वसीला रसूल का वो हमारा हामी-ए-कार है
Why fret over the Day of Reckoning, Zafar? If God so wills, it is plain to see: we have the Prophet's holy intercession, and our protector and champion is he.
O Zafar, why do you worry about the Day of Judgment? If God wills, it is evident that we have the intercession of the Prophet, and he is our helper and protector.
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