POETRY AND DEVELOPMENT

The gardener cannot know the secrets of the garden
Until he has been bruised by the thorns that protect the flowers.

Because of the drought the peasant knows it has not rained on the mountains
Although he has never seen them nor ever will.  

We meet, you and I, like a pair of lips and a wine glass
Let us think of the day when the wine bottle will be empty.

You hesitate to walk with me for I cannot identify a destination
I am in search of answers and you of results.  

Wisdom, the sages say, makes complexity simple
Yet simplicity is not accepted by the merchants of knowledge for it has no market.

Because of this perpetual conflict with myself
I seek relief in writing poetry

And poetry is more honest if not more meaningful than my work.
What a painful contradiction!

Arif Hasan
Karachi, July 1992

 

 

URBAN HEROES 2000
AWARD 

TO ARIF HASAN

  HERE

IT HAS BEEN A LONG JOURNEY

It has been a long journey,
From the winding brick paved lanes of Panipat, (1)
Where Boo Ali Qalandar (2)
Preached the unification of God and Man,
To the wide avenues and squares of Paris,
Where Voltaire ridiculed all mysticism.

It has been a long journey,
From demonstrating passionately against injustice
In the streets of Karachi,
To discussing intellectually the concept of universal brotherhood
At meetings in the heart of London
The former devoid of reason, and the latter of sincerity.

It has been a long journey;
From waiting at the crossroads with a garland of jasmine flowers
For a hypocritically shy and coquettish beloved
To embracing chance acquaintances in public places.

It has been a long journey;
From struggling to create self-sufficiency and empowerment
In the cities and rural areas of an impoverished Asia,
To negotiating dependence in Washington and
The capitals of Europe.

  It has been a long journey!
So many contradictions that I am tired.
Maybe our future generations will reconcile them.

1.  A small town near Delhi where my family originally came from.

2.  An eleventh century mystic.

AT THE TOMB OF SHAH ABDUL LATIF AT BHIT SHAH

(i)

Once again
A man of the world,
Angry, anguished and frustrated
Has come to love’s destination.

There is ugliness around me here –
So much discord
In colour, architecture and environment.
Superstition, hypocracy and commerce
Are with it hand in hand.

Yet this dust is sacred
As I too wish to loose myself in the pain of men
For I cannot fight its causes.
But unlike him
I have no faith
In the will of God
Or in the goodness of fellow beings.

Arif Hasan
Bhit Shah, March 1981 

(ii)

Dusk,
And the earth gives up its heat

  Dust,
Stirred up by the animals returning home
Pain – so much pain
The pain of injustice
The pain of being
The pain of Shah Latif.

Reflections in the dirty pool
The colour of the sky
And the form of trees
The glow of glow worms
And the croaking of frogs
What emptiness
What loneliness of spirit
What anguish
And what turmoil in my heart.

And then the sound of music
The heart rendering wail
At last this desolation has been expressed
And my tears released

  Weep now, for tomorrow in Sukkur
There is business to transact

 

 

Shah Abdul Latif, a 17^th century mystic, is considered as one of the greatest poets and musicians of South Asia.

In his own province, Sindh, and in other parts of Pakistan, he is considered a saint. It is because of him that Sindhi folk stories were rendered into poetry and put to music.