Naya Shivaala (A New Temple)---Allama Iqbal

About the poet: Poet, Philosopher, Educationist, Patriot and probably the greatest Islamic thinker of the Twentieth Century, Allama Hazrat Sir Sheikh Muhammad Iqbal, better known as Iqbal, was born in Sialkot, West Punjab in 1877 in a family of Kashmiri Brahmin ancestry. He secured a degree in philosophy from Cambridge and a Ph.D from Munich University. He was also a qualified lawyer. Initially starting with a teaching job, Iqbal ultimately moved on to politics and participated in the 2nd and 3rd Round Table Conferences held in London to resolve the Indian question. He was knighted in 1922 by the British Govt. Widely respected during his lifetime as the greatest poet-thinker of the age, Iqbal died in Lahore in 1938 and was buried beside the Badshahi Masjid.

Iqbal's poetry has a deep philosophical undertone and in the depth of meaning is perhaps unsurpassed. Along with Mir and Ghalib he is widely regarded as the Greatest Urdu Shayaar ever. Breaking apart from traditional romanticism, Iqbal for the first time wrote on issues like Islamic backwardness, hatred, poverty and the likes. His "Shikwa" and "Jawaab-e-Shikwa" are considered classics of Urdu poetry on par with Milton's "Paradise Lost". His "Taraana-e-Hind" is held to be the National Song of India. Iqbal is also very popular in Pakistan where he is looked upon as a sort of Father of the Nation.

Naya Shivaala is as much a protest against mindless religious orthodoxy as it is a plea for universal brotherhood and love. Even today it remains one of Iqbal's most popular poems.

Sach keh doon aey Birehman! Gar tu bura na maane,
(Shall I tell the truth O Brahmin? But dont feel slighted....)
Tere sanam-qadon ke but ho gaye puraane...
(These idols of your temples are mighty outdated....)

Apnon se bair rakhna toone buton se sikha...
(These are the very things that taught you to despise a fellow man...)
Jang-o-jadal sikhaaya Vaaiz ko bhi khuda ney..
(The Mullah too claims God asked him to wage war on the kaafirs...)

Tang aake maine aakhir dair-o-haram ko chhoda...
(Fed up of this I have given up on the mosque and the temple...)
Vaaiz ka vaaz chhoda, chhode tere fasaane..
(I have given up on the Mullah's sermons and your blighted stories!!)

Patthar ki moorti mein samjha hai tu khuda hai?
(You think these motionless stones contain Gods?)
Qhaak-e-watan ka mujhko har zarra devta hai!
(Nay! Even the miserly dust of my beloved country is a God to me!)

Aa ghairyat ke parde ek baar phir uthaaden...
(Let us remove these dark curtains of exclusiveness..)
Bicchdon ko phir milaaden, naksh-e-durr mitaaden
(Let's embrace our long lost brothers...let's remove these damned differences)

Sooni padi hui hai muddat se dil ki basti...
(The temple of our hearts has been vacant for long...)
Aa ek naya shivaala is des mein banaaden
(Let's install a new god here..let's do it soon mate!)

Duniya ke teerthon se uncha ho apna tirath
(Let our temple be so different..like no other!)
Daaman-e-Aasman se iska kalas milaaden
(Let it's spire reach the veil of the sky! My brother!)

Har subah uth ke gaayen mantar woh meethe-meethe
(Every morning, the songs of love shall play here)
Saare pujaariyon ko may peet ki pilaaden...
(Let's get intoxicated on this wine of love)

Shakti bhi, shanti bhi..bhakton ke geet me hai
(Strength and peace lie in the songs of devotees..)
Dharti ke waasiyon ki mukti preet me hai..
(But salvation, my friend, lies only in Love!)

Dil hi to hai (It's my heart after all!)---Mirza Ghalib

About the poet: Mirza Asadullah Khan 'Ghalib' (b:1797 d:1869) is arguably the widest read Urdu shaayar of all times. He lived almost the whole of his life in Delhi and his love for the city is amply demonstrated in many of his works. He was the tutor of the last Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar and as such was very popular among the late Mughal aristocracy. A large part of his work is in Persian but it is for the relatively small collection of Urdu verse that he is universally acclaimed and loved. Ghalib was an original and innovative poet and his proud and independent spirit is reflected in his verse. His elegant Urdu letters to friends and contemporaries, many of them describing the British pillage of Delhi after 1857, are now regarded as masterpieces of early Urdu prose.

Dil hi to hai, na sang-o-khisht (It's my heart after all and not brick or stone)
Dard se bhar na aaye kyon? (Why should'nt then it well up with pain?)

Royenge hum hazaar baar (We'll weep a thousand times..)
Koi hamein sataaye kyon? (why should anybody torment us?)

Daeir nahin, Haram nahin (No temple, nor the Kaaba)
dar nahin, aastaan nahin (no shelter, not even the threshold of the house)

Baithen hain reh-guzar pe hum (we sit by the roadside)
Ghair hamein uthaaye kyon (half-expecting a stranger to help us)

Haan wo nahi khudaparast (He may be an unbeliever)
Jaao ke bewafa sahi (he may as well be unfaithful)

Jisko ho deeno-dil azeez (A person who holds faith and heart dear..)
Uski gali se jaaye kyon? (why should we venture past (such a man's) lane?)

Ghaalib-e-qhasta ke beghair (Without Ghalib-the wretched)
kaun se kaam band hain? (what work cant be completed and what tasks are unfulfilled?)

Roiye zaar zaar kya (what then for is all this weeping?)
kijiye haai-haai kyon (and all this beating of the chest?)


Chitra Singh's beautiful rendition of this ghazal can be found here: