Tag Archives: Nawab Mirza Khan Daagh

The City of Mushairas

The life and times of Delhi’s leading poets of the Mughal era and their enrichment of a syncretic language

Beloved Delhi: A Mughal City and Her Greatest Poets

Beloved Delhi: A Mughal City and Her Greatest Poets
Saif Mahmood
Speaking Tiger
367 pages
Rs 599

Shaikh Mohammad Ibrahim Zauq, the poetry ustaad of the last Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah ‘Zafar’ saw, in his lifetime, the Mughal Empire brought to its knees (though not formally ended — Zauq, perhaps mercifully, died three years before the ‘Ghadar’ of 1857, the uprising that was to so impact the fabric of Delhi’s social, cultural and literary life). But an impoverished Mughal court and an equally penurious north Indian aristocracy meant that many of Zauq’s contemporaries drifted south to Hyderabad, where there was still patronage to be sought and stipends to be earned. Zauq, however, when asked why he did not migrate to the Deccan, had famously remarked, “In dinon garche Dakan mein hai bohot qadr-e-sukhan/ Kaun jaaye Zauq par Dilli ki galiyaan chhor kar?” As Saif Mahmood translates this in his book Beloved Delhi: “Although poetry is greatly valued in the Deccan these days, Zauq, who would trade that for the lanes of Delhi?”

It is this — the connection between Delhi and her Urdu poets, an almost umbilical cord that binds the city to her greatest bards — that forms an important theme in Mahmood’s book. Beloved Delhi has, as its subtitle, A Mughal City and Her Greatest Poets, and those words describe the book perfectly: it is about the Mughal city of Delhi — not the city before or after the Mughals (though there is a fleeting mention of those as well), and about its greatest poets of the 18th and 19th centuries.

Mahmood examines the life and work of eight of Delhi’s greatest Urdu poets, against the backdrop of the city. Mirza Mohammad Rafi Sauda, Khwaja Mir Dard, Mir Taqi Mir, Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib, Momin Khan Momin, Bahadur Shah Zafar, Shaikh Mohammad Ibrahim Zauq and Nawab Mirza Khan Daagh Dehlvi are the eight poets who form the subject of Mahmood’s book. For each poet, Mahmood begins with a biography (often preceded by a description of the current state of the poet’s grave or former home). The biography is followed by an insight into the most relevant aspects of the poet’s work — Sauda’s satire, Zauq’s use of everyday language, Momin’s sensuality, Ghalib’s often cryptic verses, and so on. Finally, there are selected verses (with translations) by each poet.

There are several reasons to recommend Beloved Delhi. Firstly, it’s a well-written, readable book that manages to strike a balance between being informative on the one hand and unintimidating, entertaining, even witty on the other. Mahmood handles with commendable skill a subject that is often perceived as unapproachable by those not familiar with the Urdu script, or who are daunted by the more Persianised form of the language. But it’s also a subject that is regaining popularity and Mahmood’s translations, his occasional helpful notes, and the very fact that he takes care to bring in popular connections — Hindi film music’s use of couplets and ghazals from classical poets, for example, or ghazals rendered by popular singers — helps make this poetry more relatable.

Also playing a major role in making the poetry easier to relate to is Mahmood’s approach to the lives of the men who wrote that poetry. He uses various sources — autobiographies, reminiscences of contemporaries, memoirs, correspondence, even the poetry they penned— to bring alive the men behind the verses. Sauda, so acerbic that his satire repeatedly got him into trouble. Mir, the mad egoist, who willingly wrote poetry in exchange for groceries. Momin, a brilliant hakim as well as a great poet. Ghalib, so addicted to gambling that it brought him into repeated conflict with the law (which, Mahmood, himself a lawyer, points out as being reflected in the many legal and judicial terms — muddai, talab, hukm, faujdaari, giraftaari, etc — that Ghalib uses in his poetry). Mahmood even busts some myths, such as the authorship of popular works attributed to poets like Zafar and Ghalib.

And there is Delhi. The Delhi of mushairas. A city where fakirs and courtesans could be heard singing Ghalib’s ghazals, where a language born out of a syncretic confluence of cultures and traditions was nurtured even through the turbulence and horror of 1857 and its aftermath. As much as he brings alive the eight poets he focusses on, Mahmood brings alive the Delhi that was so beloved to them.

Madhulika Liddle is a Delhi-based writer

source: http://www.indianexpress.com / The Indian Express / Home> Lifestyle> Books / by Madhulika Liddle / May 18th, 2019

Of mushairas and Urdu poetry in an era gone by

While Hyderabad has transformed into an urban metropolis, mushairas and Urdu poetry have survived the test of time. Mohd. Ziauddin Ahmed Shakeb, historian and Urdu-Persian scholar, traces the history of Urdu poetry in Hyderabad

(Courtesans singing ghazals…)
(Courtesans singing ghazals…)

During Nizam’s time, Urdu had a very special position — it was spoken by everyone, everywhere. All sign boards, shops, post offices, hospitals, railway stations were written exclusively in Urdu. There were three main languages during the time — Telugu, Maharashtra and Kannada; and while Urdu was compulsory, education in a native language was allowed till high school.

Subsequently, Urdu poetry was a social phenomenon. Almost all the Nizams were great poets. And they used to have one poet laureate in their court. For instance, Nizam VI had Nawab Mirza Khan Daagh as his tutor in poetry. Daagh was brought up in the Red Fort under the last ruler, Bahadur Shah Zafar and had read out in mushairas (poetry symposiums) in front of Mirza Ghalib! He came to Hyderabad and stayed for several months, and at that time, there was great reception to his poetry. He was hoping that he would be invited by the Nizam, but he wasn’t. After three-to-four months, he left Hyderabad. That is when the Nizam’s order was issued that he should be brought back, and paid from the day he landed in Hyderabad! And so, Nawab Mirza Khan Daagh was given an audience, and subsequently, he was appointed as the Nizam’s tutor. The poet laureate’s salary shot up from 400 to 1,000!

While he represented Delhi School of Urdu, there was another major school, the Lucknowi School. The chief of the school, Amir Meenai, also came to Hyderabad, but soon was caught up with pneumonia and he passed away here. But he had a large number of scholars with him, and one of his students, Jaleel Manikpuri, was appointed as the Nizam VII’s tutor. And he would write beautiful poetry.

“Nigaah barq nahi, chehra aftaab nahi (her looks aren’t electricity, and her face is not the sun)
Wo admi hai magar dekhney ki taab nahi (She is just human, but no one has the courage to look at her)”

Since Urdu was a language understood by a majority, there was fantastic poetry written even by Hindu poets, in Urdu as well as Persian. One of the Prime Ministers of Hyderabad, Sir Maharaja Kishen Pershad, used to write in Persian and Urdu, and even have mushairas at his palace. And so it was that there were hundreds of Urdu poets in Hyderabad.

(As told to Apuurva Sridharan)

source: http://www.articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com / The Times of India / Home> Life & Style> Books> Languages / TNN / by Apuurva Sridharan / November 12th, 2013