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jannah
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« on: May 14, 2008 05:00 AM »


salaam

Parveen Shakir (November 24, 1952 - December 26, 1994) was a Pakistani Urdu poetess, teacher and a civil servant of the Government of Pakistan.

Shakir was born on 24th November, 1952 in Karachi, Pakistan. She received two undergraduate degrees -- in English literature and linguistics.

Parveen held MA degrees in English Literature and Linguistics from University of Karachi. She was a teacher at Karachi University and Trinity College, Connecticut, USA, for 9 years before joining the Pakistan Civil Service, where she served in the Customs department. In 1986, she was appointed second secretary, CBR in Islamabad.

In 1990, she taught at Trinity College, Connecticut, USA, and then did her masters in public administration at Harvard University in 1991.

She married Naseer Ali, a doctor by profession, whom she later divorced. In 1994, she died in a car accident at age 42. She is survived by her son, Syed Murad Ali. Her unique honor was that when she appeared in the Central Superior Services Examiation in 1982 there was a question on her poetry in the Urdu examination.

Her poetry was a breath of fresh air in Urdu poetry. She used the first-person feminine pronoun, which is rarely used in Urdu poetry even by female poets. The feminine perspective of love and the associated social problems were her theme. Critics compare her poetry to that of Iranian poet Forough Farrokhzad.

Her first book, Khushboo, won the Adamjee Award. Later she was awarded the Pride of Performance.

Following are her published books of poetry in chronological order.

* Khushboo (1976) - Fragrance

* Sad-barg (1980) - Evergreen

* Khud-kalaami (1990) - Talking to Self

* Inkaar (1990) - Denial

* Maah-e-Tamaam (1994) - Full Moon

[Wikipedia]
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« Reply #1 on: May 14, 2008 05:00 AM »

This beautiful evening of ours,
a beautiful evening with
the fragrance of your dress
still dissolving
the flowers of my dreams
still blossoming –
a still unfolding scene.

Little later, on the horizon,
a star will appear
looking at you
giving you some hint
to make your heart recall
someone dear
some tale of separation
incomplete things
unrealized dream,
things unsaid.

We should have met
in some pleasant times
in a hopeful dream
in some other world
under some other skies.

We should have met...

PARVEEN SHAKIR
trans. from the original urdu


yay haseen shaam apni
yay haseen shaam apni
abhi jiss meiN ghul rahi hai
teray parahan kee khushboo
abhi jiss meiN khil rahay heiN
meray khawab kay shagoofay
zera dair ka hai manzar

zera dair meiN ufq par
khilay ga koi sitaara
teri simt daik kar woh
karay ga koi ishara
teray dil ko aayay ga phir
kissi yaad ka bullawa
koi qissa-ay judaaee, koi kaar-ay naamukamal
koi khawab-ay naa shagufta, koi baat kehnay wali

humeiN chaahiyay tha milna
kissi ahad-ay mehrbaaN meiN
kissi khawab kay yaqeeN meiN
kissi aur aasmaaN par
kissi aur sarzameeN meiN
humeiN chahiyay tha milna…


another trans:

a melting twilight
the world in its entirety dissolves

the scent of you
the blossoming
pullulation of dreams

all dissolves

... a vision deferred

in a while
a star will emerge on the horizon
to gaze at you
replete with meaning
... your heart shall then reminisce
there shall be an echo of a memory...
the tale of a separation,
of an unfinished moment...
of dreams unborn, thoughts unsaid

we ought to have met
in another time
in pursuit of attainable dreams
below a different sky
upon a different earth
we ought to have met then, there...
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« Reply #2 on: May 14, 2008 05:03 AM »

Slowly, from place to place
spread the rumor of our love,
he made me known
the way fragrance spreads.

How can I say he left me,
which though true,
is still a matter of
chagrin to me.

No matter where he goes,
he always comes back to me,
and this is the best thing
about my wayward lover.

May he always be happy, vibrant
like his heart,
and may he never suffer
a calamitous night of separation.

When he put his consoling hand
on my feverish forehead,
my very soul felt
a Messianic relief.

PARVEEN SHAKIR [kuu-ba-kuu phail ga_ii], translated from Urdu]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

kuu-ba-kuu phail ga_ii baat shanaasaa_ii kii us ne Khushbuu kii tarah merii paziiraa_ii kii

kaise kah duu.N ki mujhe chhor diyaa hai us ne baat to sach hai magar baat hai rusvaa_ii kii

vo kahii.n bhii gayaa, lauTa to mere paas aayaa bas yahii baat hai achchhii mere harajaa_ii ki tere dil kii tarah aabaad rahe tujh pe guzare na qayaamat shab-e-tanhaa_ii kii

us ne jalatii hu_ii peshaanii pe jo haath rakhaa ruuh tak aa ga_ii taasiir masiihaa_ii kii

[Urdu original; Parveen Shakir]
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« Reply #3 on: May 14, 2008 05:10 AM »

n some way,
all of us are Dr. Faustus.

Some in fascination,
others blackmailed into it
sell their soul.
Some pawn their eyes,
and begin trading their dreams
others feel obliged to
sell their mind.
All we want to know is
the currency of the time.
Life’s ‘Wall Street’ tells us that
among those with power to buy
what’s most popular these days
is their own respect.

PARVEEN SHAKIR ( ‘Hum soub ek ther-ha say Dr. Faustus hain’ )

[translated from Urdu]

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hum soub ek therha say Dr, Faustus hain

Hum soub ek therha say
Dr. Faustus hain.
Koi upnay shawq kay kha-thir
Aur koi upni mujboori say black-mail ho ker
Upni roh ka sauda ker laytha hai
Koi sirf aankhain rahen rukh-wa ker
Khaw-bawn ki thijaruth shoroo ker daytha hai
Kisi ko saara zahen he girohi rukh-wana pertha hai
Bus daykh-na yeh hai
Kay sikh-kahai raa-ej ul-waqth kiya hai
So zindagi ki Wall Street ka ek jaa-eza yeh keh-tha hai
Kay aaj-kul khoo-wuth-e- kha-reed rukh-nay waal-awn main
Izzath-e-nufs bahuth maq-bool hai !

Parveen Shakir (original Urdu)
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« Reply #4 on: May 14, 2008 06:08 AM »

VANITY / Vanity Thy Name Is…

He is so simple.
His world is so different from mine.
So separate are his dreams
and his preferences.
He says very little.
He writes
this morning I saw
some lovely flowers in the lawn
and thought of you.

I know
I am at that dishevelled stage of life
when my face
is not much like any flower.
But I wish – whatever he says -
I could believe it a while.

PARVEEN SHAKIR, "Inkaar" (1990): Translated from Urdu by Alamgir Hashmi.
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« Reply #5 on: May 14, 2008 06:10 AM »

WHERE AM I?

Where am I
in your life?

In the morning breeze
or the evening star,
hesitant drizzle
or sharp rain,
silver moonlight
or hot noon,
deep thoughts
or casual tunes?

Where am I
in your life?

Down from work,
a weekend's interval
on a beach,
or an unintended
silken release between your fingers
from serial smoke?
Or a readily replenished,
freshened moment without wine,
or a moment's leave, anonymous,
between the breaking of one dream
of love and another's beginning?

Where am I
in your life?

PARVEEN SHAKIR, "Inkaar" (1990): Translated from Urdu by Alamgir Hashmi.
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