Karachi Literature Festival: Literature In Translation.

http://docs.google.com/View?id=dnw3qjw_27gbw5thhk

Meherzaidi, the writer.

The session on literature in Translation provided insight and tips on how to create good literature translations. The Karachi Literature Festival did generate ideas that good English literary works also need to be translated into Urdu as it is the language that is read and spoken by a wide audience in the subcontinent. It will bring greater cultural exchange and understanding between peoples as desired by the British Council (a cultural NGO).Please read my post on the above address.

Karachi Literature Festival..Creative Writing Workshop.

Your document is publicly viewable at: http://docs.google.com/View?id=dnw3qjw_26drq7srhm

Meherzaidi, the writer.

The workshop was conducted by Adrian Hussain and Zulfikar Ghose (poetry section) at the Karachi Literature Festival by Oxford University Press, Pakistan and the British Council , Karachi.I have written the post about it on the above website.

Woh Jigar Chalni Mayein..Those Heart Wrenched Women.

Meherzaidi, the poet.

Woh  bheegey aanchal, woh bheegey pehlu,
Woh aansoo on ki gawahi denge.

Aur woh do aurtein
Betheen hain charpoy lagaye
Eik jhulaste aangan mein!

Aur un ke sar par chamakta suraj
Woh be khabar hain tapish se jiskee

Sulag Raha hai ke jin ke dil mein
Alao apne beiton ki judai ka!

Woh aik aurat ke jis ka beta
Chala gaya hai!
Un sanglakh chateeil paharon ke peechey
Keh shaid jin par rehne waleey
Bhi ho jatey honge, kathen, bewafa!

Woh kho gaya hai yeh maan se keh kar
Ke mein jahad per ja rahaa hoon!

Aur woh doosri aurat ke jis ka beta,
Abhi abhi tau parhta, likhta
Aata tha ghar mein aam khaane!
Bhaagta apni garam bahein
Apni maan ki gardan ke gird
Daalta piyar se
Aur us ka bosa
Apni jabeen per mehsoos karta
Khilkhila ke hansta
Pata naheen kiyun
Chala gaya hai!
Jahad per ya phir bakherne
Angaarey!
Doosron ke gulzaron per!

Cheekhtee chillatee auratein
Sar peet raheen hein
Laashe uthai, cheetre uthai
Yeh kis azdahe ne nigal liya hai
Sukoon un maoon ka!
Yeh kis afreet ne khaliya hai
kaleja un maoon ka!

Yeh mazhab ke naam per kaale jadoogar
Yeh insaaniyat ke naam per kaale jaadogar
Phail gaye hain
Hamien das rahe hain
Hum maoon ko!

Translation.

Those soaked scarves, those soaked borders,
give evidence of the incessant tears.
And those two women sit,
Oblivious to the scorching Sun over them,
On their charpoy!
Their hearts are full of the fire raging ,
Of the sorrow of seperation!

The first woman whose son has gone away,
Behind the rocky, barren mountains,
The dwellers of whose bare valleys,
Maybe become hardened, unloving!
He is lost, telling her that I am going
To jahad!

The second woman, whose son,
Was reading just now, happily he would come home,
To eat sweet mangoes!

Running he would spread his arms around her and feel
Her warm, motherly kisses
On his forehead!
Laughing heartiously!
Oh, I do not know why he left
On jahad or to spread
Fire coals,
On the rosy gardens of others!


The screaming women
Wail and beat their heads
Carrying dead bodies of their loved ones
Blown to smithereens!

O, What devilish python swallows
Their peace!
What Devil eats their hearts!

O, these black devils, using the name of religion
O, these black devils, using the name of humanity
Have spread their devilish tentacles all around us
Biting us, Us mothers!

Naat Rasool- e- Maqbool, Muhammad Sale Ala Alaihe Wa Sallam Ke Naam.

A Few verses of love.

Aik Hai Allah Aur Ya Rasul Allah ,Aik Tu,
Phailee Teri Khushboo Har Soo Koo Bakoo.

Meri Yeh Umar Bas Ek Misle Bulbula,
Kat Gayee Faqat Ba Rahe Sareeh Justajoo.

Jab Pari Yeh Chashme Nam Har Gule Khoshang Per,
Sirf Deedam, Zehe Tu, Khubroo, Ya Rasul Allah!

Translation :

As Allah is one, you are unique, O Muhammad,
The perfume of your message spreads far and wide!


My life but a moment spent swiftly
In finding the truth, in finding you!

Whenever this tearful eyes saw the beautiful flowers,
All I could see the beauty of you,O Prophet.



I wrote this poem in the honour of the prophet of Islam .May peace and blessings be upon him as I had the "Aamad". I translate it so that the youth who do not know Urdu can understand the meaning although Urdu and Persian words are unique.

Karachi Kahani...Dawn newspaper, Tibet Snow Aur Clifton.

A Reminiscent Short Story. By Meherzaidi.


My morning started with the teeth brushing. Bathroom was an interesting place in Nazimabad number Chaar.A large mosaiced place, cool, clean and very private. The door opened in the back "Galli". There were many trees, mango tree with sour, sour "kairees" which were lovingly cut into large square pieces for "achaar'. "Paani na lagey warna saara utar jaiega" warned a careful cook or whoever would make the pickle every summer. Every household in Karachi had a ceramic jar or "Barni". Many a master painters in Karachi have used it as a still life study. Even in Lahore. White . tall body, brown color around neck , almost like a stylish woman , in a cotton 'Borderwali saree' so commonly worn in those days. And it had disappeared almost from Pakistani attire till recent days, saree I mean. Thank god to some fashion designers especially from Lahore the saree is back. I was talking about the trees in my back alley. Then there was the tall ,tall tree of some "Phalee" which had grown tall very fast almost as if by magic. There were comments also about some jinns. Well. Shudder.
So my morning would start with Dawn newspaper at the breakfast table. I have a clear memory of Quaid-e -Azam, Muhammad Ali Jinnah as the founder of Dawn. As I grew older I came to know him as the founder of our beloved Pakistan also. Gambols were there and they did teach me the importance of  paying bills in modern urban living. The issues and problems remain today, staring , eternal. Even my husband has learnt the importance of Dawn newspaper in my life,essential,almost lifeline.So they have framed my views, my life imaging, these editors, news writers, journalists.
My dressing table or to be presice my mom's dressing table had paraphenelia such as lipsticks, brushes, combs,talcs, perfumes, coat brushes andof course, face creams. but then she never uses Tibet Snow,the small bluish jar with a well groomed lady looking smilingly, enticingly at you, beckoning to come and use it and look like her. Like a moon. This was so popular ,even across the border. "Mere liye Tibet Snow zaroor lana" would be the "farmaish"to anyone taking a journey to India. My mom used "Pond's "cream. Fahionable, those days. Her face like a fair rose, dark, groomed bob, saree.That was my mom. A poet . She learnt Urdu or Indian classical singing, attended "Mushairas"hosted musical evenings at home, ran a montessori school, did social welfare and was a Muslim leaguer. Her shadow overshadows me even today
Then there was Clifton. A beach that has paid an almost eternally important role in my life. So many times I had the opportunty to settle abroad , in America, London but somehow Clifton never let me go . I still reside on this lovable beach. very polluted though , now,after the oil spill too.
There was this Kothari parade,a majestic landmark structure with sloping walls. We would alight from our Bedford van, run across, climb the sloping walls and shriek in sheer delight. Then with chappals in hand run down the sands of Clifton right down to the sea shore about a kilometre or two away.There are roads and hurdles now, in between. It was free, with warm, sands in between then. We wore cotton frocks then, Now even most little girls wear hijab and shalwars. How times have changed. Then those times people were more tolerant, mixed cultures, happier I guess.
The sound of the Arabian sea I still hear as the tides come up every day and night twice. My memories are pleasant , so poetic,so carefree,  so unlike now!

Contemporary Painters of Pakistan.. Aaliya Chinoy.

Contemporary Painters of Pakistan..Young Aliya Chinoy.

Aliya Chinoy with visitor.

Aliya  Chinoy stands out as a very fine painter of nature in Pakistani art scene. Her latest exhibition in Zenaini Art Gallery , the fourth in a series of solo, shows her deep perception of the imagery that is represented in nature in the form of  grass, bushes, leaves, water and flowers. Flowers are  shown as if they were faces, telling a story, conveying a feeling. Her paintings, Serenity, in group, show the light shaded lilies. According to the talented artist, the word, serenity has different meanings or interpretation to different people. To some it maybe a feeling when looking at a particular image or scene, to others it maybe a music piece or a song. It is this relationship between a word and it’s profound yet varied aspects that is so subtly yet finely represented in these lily paintings. The viewer can enjoy the art herself.

Beautiful Flowers or faces?

Aliya did her training in textile design in which fine art was a component. Her paintings do reflect the object of attention executed with the mastery of design. She initially was interested in figurative painting but as she had a sojourn in Islamabad where models are not available, she reluctantly turned to nature. Nature is abundant in Islamabad in the form of green leafy trees, trees who change beautiful colours like orange, red and yellows in autumn, trees with fine small foliage, bushes with small foliage, flowers with all kinds of petals, wild flowers and small ponds and water sheds where the reflections on the water surface are an artists’s dream palette.

Aliya shows us the water surface with fine waves as reflecting the various feelings, moods and perceptions that form the large canvas that is life. Life has various stages, phases and moods. The fine waves are but a reflection. It seems that sometimes the lack of availability of one thing may be the opportunity to find another “Destiny”, which these water paintings are entitled.

A set or multiple frames of fine flowers, some my favorite, is shown in a way as some people either looking at each other, a dialogue, or looking away, as if in disagreement. The paintings if set on a wall together may show the complete sequence, the picture. Aliya’s fine brought up, her delicate sensibilities, her finesse as an individual are reflected in the way she handles her frames. I am reminded of the fine Chinese or Japanese art frames that adorn a sophisticated cosmopolitan drawing room or a serene study of an aristrocratic intellectual. The reality of imagery of Pakistani scenery, yet appearing totally unregional shows the universal appeal of the artists work.

It is for people like this young Pakistani artists that my faith in our art remains optimistic. These are the people who will keep that flame of individuality, innovation and style burning defying the doom of plagiarism, commercialization, cheap, low quality work that seems to be flooding the local art scene today. Her genuineness, her fine independence and her flair for turning a commercial course training into fine art expression shows that the young Pakistani artist is alive and vibrant, in full bloom. 

Water and foliage.

Nature as life.

Flowers or Faces!

Very fine nature study.

Pagal Piyaar! Do piyari piyari larkiyon ke naam!

Woh ek pagal si larki,
Chali hai piyaar dhoondne.
Is jehane faani mein
Is bewafa si dunya mein.
Aur woh doosri pagal si larki
Samajhtee hai paa liya usne piyaar
Is misle bulbula dunya mein
Is lamha-e mutalzal mein.
Dono pagal larkiyaan
Dhoondne chali hein piyaar!

Aisa napeid jazba
Jo aaj kal hai dastyaab
Kabhi bhadday laal laal qumqumon mein
Kabhi sastey valentine cardon mein
Aur kabhi kabhi us sajan ki aankhon mein
Woh sajan jo shayad mein ne khud banaya hai
Ek but
Mere dil-e Aazari ki tarash
Shayad yehi hai piyaar
Ek khayal, ek shumaar.

Aur mein sochtee rehtee hoon
Kiya hoga anjaam in dono ka
Ek bari, samajhdar aur parhee
Doosri pagal, pagal se.

Jaise azal se larkiyan
Sochtee ayee hain
Bhagtee, khailtee
Titliyaan pakarti 
Kiya yahee hai piyaar?
Is hee tara chamkta, machalta
Jugnagoon
Lamiya
Bas na ho yeh ustarha
Jo bana gaya Anarkali ko
Nawishta -e deewaar!


Aur sab larkiyaan
Kiya dhoondtee hain titliyaan
Ek khwaab zada weerane mein
Jahan bhoolke bhi naam na lo
Is lafz ka jo hai piyaar!