by B. R. GOWANI
Azmi’s birth name was Sayyid Akhtar Hussein Rizvi but he is better known by his pen-name-Kaifi Azmi (1919 -2002). He was one of the finest and most prominent poets of India. He was a die-hard communist, not just in name, but his lifestyle, principles, and actions aligned with this philosophy.
It is strange, but true, that Azmi was sent by his Shia Muslim family to a religious seminary or madrassa Sultan-ul-Madaaris to become a maulvi, a religious scholar). “The would-be maulvi became a card-holding party member and a Marxist poet.” He joined the CPI (Communist Party of India) and carried the CPI card on him till his death.
Azmi was also influenced by reading the book Angaaray <1> or “Burning Coals,” a collection of nine short stories written by Sajjad Zaheer, Ahmed Ali, Rashid Jahan, and Mahmood-uz-Zafar.
Once Kaifi Azmi said:
“I was born in a slave India, grew up in an independent India and would like to die in a socialist India.”
Today, most people in India feel like they are slaves of the capitalist class who controls the economy and the government — run by the openly Hindu nationalist Narendra Modi who never misses a chance to denigrate Muslims as he continues to accumulate as much power as he can to turn India into a Hindu Rashtra (nation) with him as its fascist leader.
In the mid 1940s, during one of his mushairas, (a gathering of poetry reading by poets in front of an audience), Azmi read his epic poem Aurat or Woman.
“Arise, my love, for now you must march with me
Flames of war are ablaze in our world today
Time and fate have the same aspirations today
Our tears will flow like hot lava today
Beauty and love have one life and one soul today
You must burn in the fire of freedom with me
Arise, my love, for now you must march with me”
(See the full poem at kaifiazmi.com and rekhta.com)
Present in the audience was his future wife Shaukat Khanam. She told her friend:
“What kind of poet he is? The way he is beseeching, which woman will agree to go along with him.”
Before the poem ended, Shaukat had decided to end her engagement to another man. She married Azmi in 1947. Their marriage resulted in two children, Shabana Azmi, and Baba Azmi. Economic pressures compelled Azmi to concentrate on writing songs for movies. His daughter, Shabana Azmi became a very good actress and Baba became a cinematographer.
Azmi and Shaukat were also part of the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA) and the Indian Progressive Writers Association (IPWA), which were then the cultural platforms of the Communist Party of India.
Shaukat joined the theater and later films, as an actress. Azmi wrote dialogues in verse form, for the 1970 film Heer Raanjha. For another film Garam Hava (Scorching Winds) based on Ismat Chughtai‘s short story, he joined Shama Zaidi to write the story and its screenplay. Azmi wrote the dialogues for that film. Garam Hava depicted realistically the dilemma of a Muslim family on whether to move to Pakistan or to stay in India. It was an exceptionally good film.
In 1973, Azmi suffered brain hemorrhage which disabled his left hand and leg. He left Bombay for Mijwan, where he was born, a tiny village in Azamgarh Eastern Uttar Pradesh. Mijwan, an unknown town, later became globally known due to Azmi’s efforts as he founded Mijwan Welfare Society for the empowerment of women with a focus on the girlchild.
Azmi saw the emergence of bloody Hindutava atrocities first hand, when BJP-led goons demolished the Babri Masjid. Azmi wrote The Second Exile. One of the couplet taunts Hindutva goons who talk about sanctity of life by forcing people not to eat animals, on the one hand, and carry out devastation and death of human lives, on the other.
“Of those who came to burn my house
Your sword, my friend, is vegetarian“
In 2023, India was the second largest beef exporter in the world.
Azmi has written many heart wrenching film lyrics and the following one is also very emotional. This song was written for the movie Shola aur Shabnam (Flame and Dew). The song is picturized on Tarla Mehta and Dharmendra. It was sung by Mohammed Rafi and became one of Rafi’s greatest hits. The music director for the song is Khayyam whose minimalist music rendered extra poignancy to the lyrics. This is one of my most favorite song ever.
Original lyrics:
jAne kyA DhoonDhti rehti hai ye ANkheN
jAne kyA DhoonDhti rehti hai ye ANkheN mujh meiN
rAkh ke Dhair meiN sholA hai na chiNgAri hai
ab na vo pyAr na us pyAr ki yAdeiN bAki
Ag yuN dil meiN lagi kuchh na rahA kuchh na bachA
jiski tasveer nigAhoN meiN liye baiThi ho
meiN vo dildAr nahiN uski huN khAmosh chitA
jAne kyA DhoonDhti rehti hai ye ANkheN mujh meiN
rAkh ke Dhair meiN sholA hai na chiNgAri hai
zindagi haNs ke guzarti to bahut achchhAa thA
khair haNs ke na sahi ro ke guzar jAyegi
rAkh barbAd muhabbat ki bachA rakhi hai
bAr-bAr isko jo chheDA to bikhar jAyegi
jAne kyA DhoonDhti rehti hai ye ANkheN mujh meiN
rAkh ke Dhair meiN sholA hai na chiNgAri hai
Arzu jurm vafA jurm tamannA hai gunAh
ye wo duniyA hai jahAN pyAr nahiN ho saktA
kaise bAzAr kA dastoor tumheiN samjhAuN
bik gayA jo vo khareedAr nahiN ho saktA
jAne kyA DhoonDhti rehti hai ye ANkheN mujh meiN
rAkh ke Dhair meiN sholA hai na chiNgAri hai
Translation:
I don’t know what those eyes keep searching in me
I don’t know what those eyes keep searching in me
in this heap of ash, neither the flame nor the spark remains
neither that love, nor the memories remain
the fire of separation engulfed the heart — and nothing is left
the picture you carry in your vision
I’m not that lover, just his silent corpse
I don’t know what those eyes keep searching in me
in this heap of ash, neither the flame nor the spark remains
it would’ve been nice if life had passed cheerfully
anyway, it will pass mournfully too
my ruined love’s ashes, I’ve saved
if disturbed frequently, it will get scattered
I don’t know what those eyes keep searching in me
in this heap of ash, neither the flame nor the spark remains
longing is a crime, loyalty is a crime, and desire a sin
in our world, its not possible to fall in love
how do I explain the rules of the market to you
the one who got sold can never be a buyer
I don’t know what those eyes keep searching in me
in this heap of ash, neither the flame nor the spark remains
Note:
<1> The book Angaarey questioned Muslim practices, the prevailing condition of Muslim women, inequality, and criticized British imperial rule in India. Many Muslims burned the book, and the British government banned it.
Sajjad Zaheer, Ahmed Ali, Rashid Jahan, and Mahmood-uz-Zafar refused to apologize for their book Angaarey. Mahmood-uz-Zafar defended it in an article titled: “In Defence of Angarey:”
“The authors of this book do not wish to make any apology for it. They leave it to float or sink of itself. They are not afraid of the consequences of having launched it. They only wish to defend ‘the right of launching it and all other vessels like it’ … they stand for the right of free criticism and free expression in all matters of the highest importance to the human race in general and the Indian people in particular… Whatever happen to the book or to the authors, we hope that others will not be discouraged. Our practical proposal is the formation immediately of a League of Progressive Authors, which should bring forth similar collections from time to time both in English and the various vernaculars of our country. We appeal to all those who are interested in this idea to get in touch with us.”
B. R. Gowani can be reached at brgowani@hotmail.com