Rajinder Manchanda Bani (1932-1981) was a luminary in the world of neo-classical ghazal poetry. His mastery of diffusing Hindi diction into the intricate tapestry of ghazal adds another flavor to his shayari. Upon settling in the vibrant city of Delhi after India gained independence, he infused a diverse array of novel ideas, and innovative rhetorics into the genre of Ghazal. Harf-e-Moetbar (1971), Hisab-e-Rang (1976), and Shafaq Shajar (1982) stand as his three notable collections of poetry.
Bani’s shayari did not adhere to the ideologies or respond to the external events occurring in the world. His verses resonated with readers due to their exploration of the perpetual inner struggle that every individual faces within the confines of their own thoughts. In his verses, one could sense a unique innocence coexisting with profound gravity and seriousness, creating a compelling juxtaposition.
Bani’s poetry breathed new life into the traditional ghazal form by introducing vibrant metaphors inspired by the colors of nature. It is no easy feat to forge a new path preserving the essence of the traditional style of poetry within the confines of the often rigid ghazal genre. Yet, Rajinder Manchanda Bani managed to do just that, leaving an indelible mark in this discipline of poetry with his originality and intimate exploration of the human psyche through his mesmerizing verses.
Relevant links are given to read the complete ghazal. This is the first in a series of posts that will eventually be poured into this blog as I read and understand more of the nuances of various shora (poets). I certainly am no expert on this subject and am merely exploring it as an amateur connoisseur of ghazals. The intended meanings can be vastly different from what I interpret. But somewhere, it holds true at least for me (until one of you fills me in), much like with an abstract piece of art where it’s the observer who creates the meaning for themselves. It may also be noted that the translations are neither literal nor implied—but a nice enough balance between the two. Punctuation is added in translations for clarity, even though original poetry often omits it. This is partly to maintain its multi-layered depth (helps meaning generation) and partly because there isn’t a tradition of punctuation in poetry, though intonation plays a role in spoken poetry or mushaira. In the realm of shayari, having punctuation is akin to subtitles appearing ahead of the visuals in a film.
Let’s start with some selected ashaar (couplets) from Bani’s ghazals.
1a) ज़रा छुआ था कि बस पेड़ आ गिरा मुझ पर
कहाँ ख़बर थी कि अंदर से खोखला है बहुत
1a) Scarcely had I touched the tree, it fell upon me,
How could I have known that it was so hollow from the inside?
Sometimes people may be struggling internally despite appearing composed on the surface. A seemingly small act of kindness or empathy towards someone, even though they may appear outwardly fine and strong, can have a profound impact on them. Here it was a complete meltdown—probably cathartic.
2a) मैं हूँ और वादा-ए-फ़र्दा तेरा
और इक उम्र पड़ी हो जैसे
2a) I stand here, with your promise to meet tomorrow,
And a lifetime stretches out before me
फ़र्दा (fardaa) means tomorrow or the following day. वादा-ए-फ़र्दा (vaada-e-fardaa) refers to the promise of meeting on the next day, and as we understand, the next day never truly arrives, especially when it involves the elusive beloved. Therefore, it remains an unfulfilled promise, even over the course of an enduring lifetime.
3a) ऐ सफ़-ए-अब्र-ए-रवाँ तेरे ब’अद
इक घना साया शजर से निकला
3a) O array of drifting clouds, after you,
A dense shadow emerged from the tree
This sher paints a vivid picture of a natural scene. Following the movement of the clouds, a thick shadow emerges from a tree. Of course, we know the shadow is only due to the sky being clear now. The transient beauty and continuous cycles that occur in the natural world. A combination of natural progression and a metaphorical significance—I leave the latter to you.
4a) राह आसाँ देख कर सब ख़ुश थे फिर मैं ने कहा
सोच लीजे एक अंदाज़-ए-नज़र मेरा भी है
4a) Seeing the easy path, everyone was happy, then I said,
Consider, I too have my own way of looking.
Is the path truly easy or is it an illusion?
Moving on to some of the more known ghazals and their selected verses.
5a) कोई भूली हुई शय ताक़-ए-हर-मंज़र पे रक्खी थी
सितारे छत पे रक्खे थे शिकन बिस्तर पे रक्खी थी
5b) लरज़ जाता था बाहर झाँकने से उस का तन सारा
सियाही जाने किन रातों की उस के दर पे रक्खी थी
5c) कोई क्या जानता क्या चीज़ किस पर बोझ है ‘बानी’
ज़रा सी ओस यूँ तो सीना-ए-पत्थर पे रक्खी थी
5a) Some forgotten thing, placed on the alcove (shelf) of every line of sight
Stars placed on the roof, wrinkles on the bed
The guy has a lot on his to-do list. Even the bed is restless, house is not in order. Or the classic bout of insomnia—switching sides in bed resulting in creases on the bed sheet. Stars (still) placed on the roof could mean they weren’t observed for many nights. Maybe in those days of not having television, the night sky was a long never-ending Netflix show.
5b) His entire body trembled when He tried to peek outside,
blackness (black ink) of many nights stored at his door-side
A musalsal ghazal, this sher being a continuation of the matla (first sher). The rhetorical language in the second misra (line) is the same. It makes me think of the age-old philosophical thought on observation vs. perception: If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
I’d like to mention that Urdu poetry typically employs gender-neutral language, a literary technique that adds a layer of timeless relevance. Interestingly, the beloved is often addressed using masculine pronouns.
5c) Who knows the weight each burden bestows,
A dewdrop light, yet on stone’s chest it imposes
Despite appearing strong or composed on the surface, there is a vulnerability or sensitivity beneath. A dewdrop may weigh too much on the chest of the stone. In the same vein of the previous verse ‘ज़रा छुआ था कि बस पेड़’, it emphasizes the hidden struggles that individuals may bear silently.
6a) मस्त उड़ते परिंदों को आवाज़ मत दो कि डर जाएँगे
आन की आन में सारे औराक़-ए-मंज़र बिखर जाएँगे
6b) कौन हैं किस जगह हैं कि टूटा है जिन के सफ़र का नशा
एक डूबी सी आवाज़ आती है पैहम कि घर जाएँगे
6c) हम ने समझा था मौसम की बे-रहमियों को भी ऐसा कहाँ
इस तरह बर्फ़ गिरती रहेगी कि दरिया ठहर जाएँगे
6d) आज आया है इक उम्र की फुर्क़तों में अजब ध्यान सा
यूँ फ़रामोशियाँ काम कर जाएँगी ज़ख़्म भर जाएँगे
6a) Avoid beckoning the unfettered birds, for they may take fright,
In a fleeting cascade of moments, all pages of vistas may take flight
This could be seen as a metaphor for not disrupting the delicate natural order and not imposing unnecessary fear or constraints on those seeking their own path. In moments of sudden commotion or disturbance, the grand vistas and panoramas that inspire awe and wonder may be disrupted or lost.
6b) Who are they, where might they be, in journeys, their spirits did break,
A constant, muffled voice hints at the homeward path they shall take
One has to be intoxicated (by the destination) in order to chart a rough path. It invites the reader to contemplate the complexities of human emotions and the enduring pull of home (comfort) in the face of difficulties. The first line summons up those weary and defeated co-travellers probably in an effort to reignite their spirit to press onward. It’s noteworthy that upon revisiting the punchline, misra-e-oola, it is possible that the voice might actually be emanating from within, rather than from an external source.
6c) This season entails, a heartless touch I never deemed,
Snow’s ceaseless fall, till rivers stand, it seemed
This sher may seem fairly straightforward. The season appears to be indifferent and heartless in its action. But the vivid imagery of this winter resonates deeply within me, whisking me away to my hometown nestled in the lofty mountains of the Western Himalayas.
6d) Today, a strange epiphany dawns itself in the separations of a lifetime
In such a way, forgetfulness/oblivion will work, wounds will be healed
The verse speaks to the transformative power of time, particularly in the context of enduring separations from a beloved. The second part of the verse emphasizes the therapeutic nature of forgetfulness. The mind has a natural tendency to subdue painful memories as time passes, providing a form of healing. This can be interpreted as a coping mechanism, where the mind gradually eases the intensity of past wounds, allowing for a sense of closure or peace.
But the beauty of this sher lies in three words “अजब ध्यान सा”, a peculiar epiphany—meaning that the shayar (poet), up until now, was so disheveled that he hadn’t considered this fact—the resilience of the human spirit and its ability to find solace and healing. This sher takes away my heart. I’ll be back after finding a spare one.
7a) ज़माँ मकाँ थे मिरे सामने बिखरते हुए
मैं ढेर हो गया तूल-ए-सफ़र से डरते हुए
7b) वो टूटते हुए रिश्तों का हुस्न-ए-आख़िर था
कि चुप सी लग गई दोनों को बात करते हुए
7a) The world and settlements crumbled before me,
I collapsed, fearing the length of the journey
This is one of the most popular Ghazal of Bani. So quickly moving to the haasil-e-ghazal sher (best verse) although all are good but this one is moving.
7b) It was the eventual beauty of the crumbling relationship,
That both fell silent, while seeming to converse
“चुप सी लगना” is a unique phrase indeed. It seems as though a sudden hush fell upon them while they were attempting to converse. This phrase reminds me of the filmi ghazal “Yun Hasraton Ke Daag” from the movie Adalat (1958), beautifully sung by Lata Mangeshkar, and penned by the renowned lyricist of that era, Rajendra Krishan.
होंटों को सी चुके तो ज़माने ने ये कहा
यूँ चुप सी क्यूँ लगी है अजी कुछ तो बोलिए
When the lips were sewn, the world remarked,
Why do you seem so quiet, dear? Speak up, say something
8a) जाने वो कौन था और किस को सदा देता था
उस से बिछड़ा है कोई इतना पता देता था
8b) कोई कुछ पूछे तो कहता कि हवा से बचना
ख़ुद भी डरता था बहुत सब को डरा देता था
8c) एक भी शख़्स बहुत था कि ख़बर रखता था
एक तारा भी बहुत था कि सदा देता था
8d) रुख़ हवा का कोई जब पूछता उस से ‘बानी’
मुट्ठी-भर ख़ाक ख़ला में वो उड़ा देता था
8a) Who was he, and whose name did he cry out loud?
Only this much I know, a parting with someone, he avowed
This entire ghazal is composed with an unidentified, carefree third person in mind.
8b) When queried, he’d caution, Beware of the air
Yet deep within, his heart did tremble, spreading such a scare
हवा से बचना (Beware of the wind), what kind of wind is he talking about? What’s the nature of this wind? Is it a wind of a change—a caution against transformative or uncertain times in society and the world? It could be a fear of the unknown or unpredictable aspects of life. Only one thing I am sure of, it’s not talking about the wind from a nuclear fallout.
8c) A person was enough, for He used to care
A star was enough, for it used to give a sound/call/echo
It elegantly conveys the significance of a person’s concern and attention, akin to a star’s persistent presence. You don’t need a thousand people to make a meaningful difference in your life.
8d) When someone used to ask about the direction of the wind from Him,
He would toss a handful of dust into the space (wind)
The act of releasing the dust conveys a sense of playfulness, creativity, and a certain carefree attitude toward life. The dust, carried by the wind, becomes a visual representation of the direction of the wind.
Here is another one, adorned with vivid imagery. Feel free to explore the hyperlink to the Rekhta website for the complete ghazal.
9a) ख़त कोई प्यार भरा लिख देना
मशवरा लिखना दुआ लिख देना
9b) कितना सादा था वो इम्काँ का नशा
एक झोंके को हवा लिख देना
9c) बर्ग-ए-आख़िर ने कहा लहरा के
मुझे मौसम की अना लिख देना
9d) सब्ज़ को सब्ज़ न लिखना ‘बानी’
फ़स्ल लिख देना फ़ज़ा लिख देना
9a) Write a letter filled with love,
Write advice, write blessings
9b) How simple was that ecstasy of possibility,
To pen (call) a gust as if it were the wind
It conveys the idea that there’s a phase in life, perhaps in youth, where one experiences a sense of idealism and boundless possibilities. During this carefree time, even something as fleeting as a gust of wind can feel like a continuum of an unbridled promise.
9c) The last leaf said, swaying,
Call me the ego/pride of the season
The लिख देना radeef (refrain) literally translates to “write down.” However, here it means “assign me a name” or “call me something.” This construction might seem unconventional in English, as it doesn’t directly translate.
9d) Do not write verdure as verdant, ‘Bani’
Write harvest, write ambiance
This matla (last verse/sher) is a playful elicitation on how to describe सब्ज़ lush green foliage. It advises against using the obvious term ‘verdant’ (meaning lush green), and instead suggests employing more evocative, colorful, and descriptive expressions like fresh harvest, paddy fields, or spring. The takhallus (pen name) Bani is fittingly used to talk to himself in the second person.
The following ghazal, though not readily available on public platforms online, has each sher so rich in meaning that it would be a crime to mention only a chosen few.
10a) कुछ न कुछ साथ अपने ये अंधा सफ़र ले जाएगा
पाँव में ज़ंजीर डालूंगा तो सर ले जाएगा
10b) अंदर अंदर यक-ब-यक उठेगा एक तूफान भी
सब नशात-ए-नफ़ा’ सब रंज-ए-ज़रर ले जाएगा
10c) एक पीला रंग बाकी रह गया है आँख में
डूबता मंज़र इसे दामन में भर ले जाएगा
10d) घूमता है शहर के सबसे हसीं बाज़ार में
एक अज़िय्यत-नाक महरूमी वो घर ले जाएगा
10e) अब ना लाएगा कोई उसका पता मेरे लिए
और वहाँ कोई न अब मेरी ख़बर ले जाएगा
10f) इस क़दर खाली हुआ बैठा हूँ अपनी ज़ात में
कोई झोंका आएगा जाने किधर ले जाएगा
10a) This blind journey will take something with it,
If I put shackles on my feet, my head will be taken away
This metaphorical “blind journey” has a tendency to take something from the traveler. Even if you attempt to restrain your feet, your thoughts and mind will still be led. Life’s journey, with all its uncertainties (blindness), has a way of influencing and occupying one’s thoughts and consciousness, even when one tries to resist or control it.
10b) Inside, suddenly, a storm will rise
All joys of profits/gain, all sorrows of loss will be taken away
When the storm rises within, it has the capacity to sweep away both the joys of success and gain, as well as the sorrows and pains of loss. In the grand scheme of things, our “small” gains and losses, which we are too preoccupied with, can be overshadowed by a sudden powerful, and transformative emotional upheaval. It serves as a reminder to not become too consumed by the minutiae of everyday life, but to also recognize and navigate the larger emotional currents that shape our inner world.
In terms of word construction, it’s noteworthy to observe the introduction of novel izafat phrases like ‘नशात-ए-नफ़ा’ (the ecstasy of gain) and ‘रंज-ए-ज़रर’ (the anguish of loss).
10c) An amber hue remains in the eyes,
The sinking sight will fill it in its embrace (and take away)
Another sher with beautiful natural symbolism. The presence of the “amber hue in the eye” is actually a reflection of the dusk or sinking sight in the second line. The sunset, with its warm amber tones, symbolizes a transition or culmination of a day. Indeed, this verse carries a subtle reminder of life’s cyclical essence. As there is nothing left in the body but a reflection of the past, the comforting embrace of nature is there to gently ease one to sleep.
10d) Wandering through the city’s most enchanting bazaar
Nothing but a painful deprivation, He will take home
Have you ever returned from a high-end market or mall feeling emptier than when you arrived? This unquenched longing often arises from the pursuit of something beyond our means. Seeking for something out of your league or evaluating your options in the wrong place.
Bite off more than you can chew, or as in the UK, cut your coat according to your cloth.
10e) Now, no one will bring tidings of him/her for me,
And there, no one will take my news anymore
Nothing to comment on here. It touches on themes of loss, separation, and the passage of time.
10f) I sit so empty within my own self,
A gust will come and who knows where it will lead me?
What’s worth noting here is ‘खाली हुआ बैठा हूँ’ (sitting empty) and not ‘खाली बैठा हूँ’ (sitting idle), which aligns with the second line suggesting that even a gentle gust of wind can whisk away an empty vessel.
Let’s see some chhoti behr ki ghazlein (short-metered ghazals).
11a) पैहम मौज-ए-इमकानी में
अगला पाँव नए पानी में
11b) सफ़-ए-शफ़क़ से मिरे बिस्तर तक
सातों रंग फ़रावानी में
11c) बदन विसाल-आहंग हवा सा
क़बा अजीब परेशानी में
11d) क्या सालिम पहचान है उस की
वो कि नहीं अपने सानी में
11e) टोक के जाने क्या कहता वो
उस ने सुना सब बे-ध्यानी में
11f) याद तिरी जैसे कि सर-ए-शाम
धुँद उतर जाए पानी में
11g) ख़ुद से कभी मिल लेता हूँ मैं
सन्नाटे में वीरानी में
11h) आख़िर सोचा देख ही लीजे
क्या करता है वो मन-मानी में
11i) एक दिया आकाश में ‘बानी’
एक चराग़ सा पेशानी में
11a) Continuously in the wave of possibility,
The next step in new water
Each passing moment ushers in fresh opportunities. As the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus wisely remarked, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
11b) From the lines of the rainbow to my bed,
All seven colors in abundance
It conveys the omnipresence of the seven colors of the rainbow (VIBGYOR) from the arched spectrum in the sky to the intimate space of the bed. Or maybe the colors of the rainbow’s arch is extending all the way down to the bed.
11c) The body, a union of melodious air,
The robe, in a strange perplexity
The body, akin to a flowing symphony of musical notes, embodies a unique harmony. In an intriguing twist, the robe, typically known for its free-flowing nature, finds itself perplexed as it contains something that resembles the very essence of the wind – a symbol of fluidity and freedom. “अजीब” adds an extra layer of intrigue to the perplexity.
11d) What a unique identity he/she has,
That he/she is one of its kind
11e) Interjected, unaware of his words’ sway,
All that was spoken, he caught in a distant way
11f) Your memory, akin to evening’s grace,
Mist descending upon the water’s embrace
The memory of the beloved, akin to mist gently descending upon a twilight-lit lake, conjures an almost surreal imagery that transports your mind.
11g) Sometimes, I do meet myself,
In stillness, in desolation
There is a sense of inner connection or self-realization during these solitary moments.
11h) At last, he thought, let’s see,
What lies within these whims and fancies
11i) A lamp in the sky, ‘Bani’
A lamp on the forehead
A lamp in the sky could symbolize the Sun, making the comparison between the Sun in the sky and a lamp on the forehead. Metaphorically speaking, ‘पेशानी’ (forehead) might symbolize fate or destiny due to the lines on one’s forehead. The meaning remains somewhat elusive to me, except for the superb closure provided by this symbolism.
12a) ग़ाएब हर मंज़र मेरा
ढूँड परिंदे घर मेरा
12b) जंगल में गुम फ़स्ल मिरी
नद्दी में गुम पत्थर मेरा
12c) दु’आ मिरी गुम सर-सर में
भँवर में गुम मेहवर मेरा
12d) नाफ़ में गुम सब ख़्वाब मिरे
रेत में गुम बिस्तर मेरा
12e) सब बे-नूर क़यास मिरे
गुम सारा दफ़्तर मेरा
12f) कभी कभी सब कुछ ग़ाएब
नाम कि गुम अक्सर मेरा
12g) मैं अपने अंदर की बहार
‘बानी’ क्या बाहर मेरा
12a) Lost, every line of sight of mine
Seek my abode, O bird
12b) Lost, my crop in jungle
Lost, my stone in river
12c) Lost, my prayer in the whisper of a breeze
Lost, my axis in a vortex
12d) Lost, all my dreams in the center
Lost, my bed in the sand
12e) All my suppositions appear without light
Lost, my entire office
12f) Everything lost, at times
Lost, my name, often
12g) I am the spring within myself
O ‘Bani’ what is outside for me
Bani asserts that when he looks inward he finds all the beauty, vitality, and goodness within himself, comparing it to a spring or blossoming within. It also hints at the disappointment of seeking acknowledgment or recognition externally, especially for a shayar (poet) who may seek their niche saameiin (audience). It reminds me of the often-quoted sher of Allama Iqbal:
हज़ारों साल नर्गिस अपनी बे-नूरी पे रोती है
बड़ी मुश्किल से होता है चमन में दीदा-वर पैदा
For thousands of years, Narcissus/narcissus laments his/its blindness/ugliness,
With great difficulty, the one with sharp sight (connoisseur) is born in the garden.
I don’t precisely know what is it in Bani’s shayari draws and deeply resonates with me. Perhaps it’s the simplicity, natural imagery, or the intimacy of the thoughts expressed within it.
Related post: What’s so special about Ghazals?
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