REBELLIOUS LOVE BLAZE
Riffat Nazir Ahmad
I haven’t had the opportunity of reading through the entire enchanting expanse of the vistas offered by Afzal Shauq’s poetry due to personal reasons and the time-scale.. but I have skimmed through the pages and whatever got my attention was an miracle in itself. Perhaps this is what he himself prides in.
Am I
Mozart
incarnate
writing words
in the rhythm well I know. ..(p.231)
I should first acknowledge that even the shortest of his poems allow immensity of vision into words. The voice although bleak is an echo of a tormented mind that no longer can withstand the onslaughts of time and is breaking barriers through generations of acceptance of the vice and the sordid.. I feel one with him as this enables me to peep into the reality of the painful stance that his sensitive soul is in.. cry again is the emblem of breaking off the shackles of wasted soul of human beings under the burden of endless strife during the ages..
You are not animals
That have no sense
You deserve a better life...(cry/p.69)
…and
Yes it is time
Sweet languages of Pashto
Lay claim to respect with cry …(p.69)
There is certain rebellion in his tone at times. Is this for the awakening of his fellow humans or his own admonition of what he allows to happen, helplessly around him
For my life here
is a grave yard
of a once proud nation.
Where the way of life
is humans burying
by hand…(p.119)
From a man so engrossed in a kind of aversion from the injustices around him all of a sudden seems to be caught in the age long passionate moment of his beloveds encounter whereby he doesn’t ask for more but is entwined in the charm.
Down cast eyes
the hearts window
the mirror of love
refusing to be seen….(hidden face/p.142)
He doesn’t hesitate for a moment in his final submission to his love’s beauty and grandeur
Madness is this love
which drives me
to sanity's brink.
There is one thing of grave importance that I cant help noticing; Afzal does fling with his thoughts a bit. Although throughout his love poems I find him relishing the chastity of woman form but then cannot hold when at the sharp edge of lusciousness-thus making him human
Flashing her deceptive smile
I see lust in her eyes...
With the tip of her tongue
she moistens her lips...
So I respond and smile(acts of cruelty/p152)
Reading any piece of literary art, I am always seeking some moment of deviation from the ordinary. I find this fulfilling at several stages in his poetry. Like dreams that could allow a slumber soft or carry us to worlds fantastic, he has a strong, steadfast grasp of his ground
Dreams...
No hiding place
all is stripped
from the mind's eye
allowing
differences to be seen…(dreams/p.173)
It is ever so daring to speak of the horrors and the images reflecting due to certain dark period in any civilization. The trick is to judge all with a word that lashes more painfully than the stick-plus it requires courage and a heart of rock. The title ‘animals-but on two feet’ is a remarkable courageous attempt blazing fire in any soul
But upon second look...
you are more animal
like the brutal men
from days gone by
who drank blood
ruthless in action...
Similarly the pungent sarcasm of Right and Wrong cant be ignored at any level
Today' madness
killing play
sacred war
Bullets flying
People dying
This in the name of God… (p.178)
Quite amusingly I should very honestly admit that I am more than overwhelmed with one thought. I do not happen to be a feminist but they way Afzal Shauq goes past the prejudices of his gender makes me kind of believe in him
Beloved ....
struggling like a man
when you look at me
I want to fight
for women rights
though I am a man … (p.292)
Any piece of creative writing is a proof and fruit of great thought, response to stimulus when it is in surplus or even when there is none. Afzal Shauq has sometimes maneuvered words for his ease and at times resided with the very simple code of language that makes it accessible.
I should hereby not fail to thank the translator Alley Boling, of his poetry who has enabled the non-speakers of Pashto to comprehend what the real poet himself aimed at. Her effort is profoundly appreciated and of course, had it not been the power of her pen and the insight of her imagination, we would have been deprived of this wondrous experience.
RIFFAT NAZIR AHMAD
Flat 5,
"break fast" virginbreak75@yahoo.co.uk
