A tribute to Pakistan’s rebel poet
By Dr Afzal Mirza
Eminent writer and intellectual Syed Sibte Hasan once wrote, “The dictatorship of Ayub Khan will always be remembered for the fact that this dark period brought forth people like the late Justice Kayani and Habib Jalib. When the true history of this nation is written, the world will know that these were the people who put life in the fading pulse of the nation – at the time of fear and terror, when one was afraid even to breathe.”
Syed Sibte Hasan paid this rave tribute to Habib Jalib in 1980, but Jalib was first introduced to the literary circles of Lahore much earlier in a mushaira held in 1951.
It was one of the so-called Indo Pak mushairas which were quite popular in those days. The star attraction was Indian poet Jigar Muradabadi, who was known for presenting his poetry in excellent tarannum, but the show on that evening was stolen by two young poets – a man and a woman. The man was long-haired and sharp-featured Jalib and the woman Zahra Nigah. Both these poets were invited many times to the stage to recite their poetry. Jalib presented two of his famous ghazals ‘Dil ki baat labon par la kar ab tak ham dukh sehte hain’ and ‘ham awara basti basti sehra sehra phirne wale’.
Like many of his contemporaries Jalib had migrated to Lahore at the time of partition. Though hailing from Hoshiarpur, he had spent his formative years in Delhi and that is the reason why he adopted the pseudonym, Jalib drawing inspiration from Jalib Dehlvi, a poet in the traditional style who had many disciples. Soon after partition, Jalib shifted to Karachi trying to do odd jobs but later on made to Lahore where he found an atmosphere conducive to his literary pursuits. Lahore of that period, according to Intezar Husain, was swarmed by poets and writers who had arrived from across the border, uprooted from their respective hometowns. The nostalgia was at its peak. Intezar Husain wrote in his memoirs that mushairas were common and the poetry was full of agony of migration. Jalib’s initial poetry was also characterised by this nostalgic feeling.
Yeh aijaz hae husn-e-awargi
ka
Jahan bhi gaye dastan
chorr aye
(This the miracle of our wandering
Wherever we went we left a story).
Like Nasir Kazmi and Munir Niazi, Jalib would reminisce about the green fields, the orchards and panghats (the area around wells), the haunting evenings and the silence of moonlight-bathed countryside of his original home in East Punjab. But a radical change came into his poetic diction when General Ayub imposed martial law in the country in 1958 and muzzled the freedom of expression. While on one hand Qudratullah Shahab, Jamiluddin Aali, Ashfaq Ahmad and others tried to woo the writers to support the regime by joining the Writers’ Guild and arranging free trips for them within and outside the country, the government expropriated Pakistan’s independent newspapers and brought them under the umbrella of National Press Trust. The freedom of expression was curbed with a heavy hand of censorship. Jalib was a man of the street. He hated dictatorship in all its manifestations.
I remember having met him for the first time in September 1959 in a mushaira organised by Bazm-e-Ilm-o-Fann, Abbottabad, of which I was the secretary. Jalib arrived on the same evening on which the mushaira was to be held and went straight to the bar attached to the Abbottabad’s Palace Hotel. He looked like Dylan Thomas in his disposition with the wrinkled dress, unkempt hair and all that. Jalib arrived in the mushaira when many important poets had already recited their poems and only Faiz and Ehsan Danish were left to read their poetry. Unlike Faiz, Shahzad or Faraz, Jalib recited a few of his old romantic poems in his captivating tarannum because he had not yet started writing poems of resistance.
A few months later we met in Lahore near Nagina Bakery in Anarkali. He told me how he had embarrassed Jamiluddin Aali in a live radio mushaira by reciting the following verses:
Kahin gas ka dhuan hae
kahin golion ki baarish
Shab-e-ehd-e-kum nigahi
tujhay kis tarah sarahein
(There is smoke of teargas in the air and the bullets are raining all around. How can I praise thee, the night of the period of shortsightedness)
The mushaira was switched off the air and station director Ata Mohammad Kalim was suspended the next day.
A humble man with limited means of livelihood, Jalib’s character was above board. He could never reconcile with the dictatorship of Ayub Khan. So when Ayub enforced his tailor-made constitution in the country in 1962, which a former prime minister Chaudhry Muhammad Ali likened to the Clock Tower of Lyallpur, Jalib wrote his famous poem:
Aisay dastoor ko
Subh-e-baynoor ko
Mein naheen manta
Mein naheen janta
(I do not accept, I do not recognise such a constitution which is like a morning without light)
The poem became very popular throughout the country as it represented the true feelings of a majority of Pakistanis. Around that time, in a mushaira at Jauharabad, the audience demanded from Jalib to recite this poem. He had just started off when he was stopped by Justice S.A. Rahman who was presiding over the function. Undeterred, Jalib shouted back, “You cannot stand between me and my people,” and continued with his poem to the chagrin of the chief guest.
In another incident which has become a part of the resistance folklore of the country, West Pakistan Governor, none other than the dreaded Nawab of Kalabagh, invited filmstar Neelo to dance in front of a foreign dignitary. As she refused, the police was sent to bring her forcibly to dance, which led to a suicide attempt on her part. This incident inspired a poem by Jalib, which was later included by Neelo’s husband Riaz Shahid in film Zarqa. The song was:
Tu kay nawaqif-e-aadab-e-
ghulami hae abhi
Raqs zanjeer pehan kar bhi
kiya jata hai
(You are not aware of the protocol of a king’s court. Sometimes one has to dance with the fetters on).
The song has since then become a classic of poetry of resistance.
Due to his daring revolt against the order of the day, Jalib was banned from official media but he remained undeterred. He rather started a tirade against the tyranny with more resolution. It reached its zenith when Fatima Jinnah decided to contest elections against Ayub Khan. All democratic forces rallied round her and at her election meetings, Jalib used to recite his fiery poems in front of an emotionally-charged crowd. His most popular poem at that time was:
Maan kay paon talay jannat hai idhar aa jao
(The paradise is under the feet of the mother. So come into her fold).
Jalib became a celebrity and every opposition party tried to woo him into their fold. Jalib had friends among the top politicians of Pakistan ranging from Suharwardy to Bhutto. In 1970 there was a wave of support for socialism and the rightist parties all got together to defeat the leftists. Jalib then wrote beautiful poems giving new secular meaning to their slogans. In his poem ‘Pakistan ka matlab kiya’, he wrote:
Roti, kapra aur dawa
Ghar rehne ko chhota sa
Muft mujhe talim dila
Mein bhi Musalmaan hoon
wallah
Pakistan ka matlab kya
La Ilaha Illalah.
Amrika se mang na bhik
Mat kar logon ki tazhik
Rok na jamhoori tehrik
Chhor na azadi ki rah
Pakistan ka matlab kya
La Ilaha Illalah.
Khet waderon se le lo
Milen luteron se le lo
Mulk andheron se le lo
Rahe na koi alijah
Pakistan ka matlab kya
La Ilaha Illalah.
In the 1970 elections Jalib was offered a provincial assembly ticket by Bhutto provided he joined PPP, but Jalib declined the offer, fought the election on a NAP ticket and lost it. Jalib had to face the wrath of all governments – no matter whether they were martial law regimes or quasi-democratic in nature. He, in fact, was not the compromising type and therefore Ziaul Haq’s dictatorship became a favourite topic of his poetry when the latter toppled Bhutto’s government and seized control of the country. One can’t forget his poetry that was circulated by word of mouth or by photocopies during Pakistan’s worst period of dictatorship.
Zulmat ko zia, sarsar ko saba, bande ko khuda kya likhna
(Jalib died on 12th March 1993)