A very good friend reminded me of these lines -
Aao tumko utha loon kandhon par
Tum uchak kar shareer hothon se
Choom lena ye chand ka matha...
Aaj ki raat dekha na tumne
Kaise jhuk jhuk ke koniyon ke bal
Chand itna kareeb aaya hai...
Can you recognize which film these lines are from ? I must say I was struck by how "shareer hothon" hits you in the middle of the poetry !! This is, but yet another example of the genius of Gulzar where he picks known words but weaves them together to create a completely unknown effect, at least to someone like me who is largely ignorant of the world of Hindi and Urdu poetry beyond Hindi film songs.
Me and my friend went back and forth as to whether it is "chand sa matha" or "chand ka matha". Both would make sense in isolation but in the context of the verse, "chand ka matha" made a little more sense. I had an audio cassette from the days of yore that had the songs of Aandhi with the dialogues interspersed and I know that I have it somewhere in our apartment. However, the fact that I couldn't find it or didn't even bother to try might tell you something about the high entropy content of our apartment, possibly not that uncommon in academic families living in Manhattan with a toddler ! In any case this was not easy to verify and none of the songs on youtube had the dialogue. So 1:10:50 into this, I could eventually verify that.
"koniyon ke bal" is another spot in the verse that hits your mind. Again, being literally ignorant in Hindi and Urdu, I first thought that it would be "koniyon ke pal". On reflection, that did not make much sense and listening to the lines again (thanks youtube !) and again confirmed that it was indeed "koniyon ke bal". What in the world does that mean ? Today, at a gathering of scientists, two good friends, Kamlesh and Simanshu clarified that "koniyon" meant elbow, i.e. "konui" in Bengali and "koniyon ke bal" likely implied struggling motion, akin to that of a handicapped person. What a beautiful analogy ! This is not the first time it has dawned on me that the poetry of Gulzar, like a vintage wine or an exotic perfume has multiple, yet richer layers of "under taste" that are revealed long after you have listened to the lines for the first time. But that being said, I couldn't help falling in love with this seventy-something year old man, one more time !
I got my friend's message in the morning and the lines stayed in my head till they turned into this by the end of the day, before I could be enlightened by Kamlesh and Simanshu. This is a bit too personalized to be considered a translation and it is a rather horrible one at that -
The kids have been to sleep,
Far and deep.
The night is young still,
For ours to keep.
None but the luscious moon in sight,
I'll hold you up, you hold me tight.
A kiss from your cherry lips, my love,
And one for the moon tonight.
I have always wondered whether a bit of ignorance can be bliss or a really bad thing when it comes to appreciating Hindi/Urdu poetry and I don't quite know yet.
My friend, who is on his way to becoming a hot property has written a few blog posts on Gulzar that are worth checking out if you have read thus far into this post. Although he has pampered me with my previous writings, I gather he did not like this translation at all because he was uncharacteristically silent.
Aao tumko utha loon kandhon par
Tum uchak kar shareer hothon se
Choom lena ye chand ka matha...
Aaj ki raat dekha na tumne
Kaise jhuk jhuk ke koniyon ke bal
Chand itna kareeb aaya hai...
Can you recognize which film these lines are from ? I must say I was struck by how "shareer hothon" hits you in the middle of the poetry !! This is, but yet another example of the genius of Gulzar where he picks known words but weaves them together to create a completely unknown effect, at least to someone like me who is largely ignorant of the world of Hindi and Urdu poetry beyond Hindi film songs.
Me and my friend went back and forth as to whether it is "chand sa matha" or "chand ka matha". Both would make sense in isolation but in the context of the verse, "chand ka matha" made a little more sense. I had an audio cassette from the days of yore that had the songs of Aandhi with the dialogues interspersed and I know that I have it somewhere in our apartment. However, the fact that I couldn't find it or didn't even bother to try might tell you something about the high entropy content of our apartment, possibly not that uncommon in academic families living in Manhattan with a toddler ! In any case this was not easy to verify and none of the songs on youtube had the dialogue. So 1:10:50 into this, I could eventually verify that.
"koniyon ke bal" is another spot in the verse that hits your mind. Again, being literally ignorant in Hindi and Urdu, I first thought that it would be "koniyon ke pal". On reflection, that did not make much sense and listening to the lines again (thanks youtube !) and again confirmed that it was indeed "koniyon ke bal". What in the world does that mean ? Today, at a gathering of scientists, two good friends, Kamlesh and Simanshu clarified that "koniyon" meant elbow, i.e. "konui" in Bengali and "koniyon ke bal" likely implied struggling motion, akin to that of a handicapped person. What a beautiful analogy ! This is not the first time it has dawned on me that the poetry of Gulzar, like a vintage wine or an exotic perfume has multiple, yet richer layers of "under taste" that are revealed long after you have listened to the lines for the first time. But that being said, I couldn't help falling in love with this seventy-something year old man, one more time !
I got my friend's message in the morning and the lines stayed in my head till they turned into this by the end of the day, before I could be enlightened by Kamlesh and Simanshu. This is a bit too personalized to be considered a translation and it is a rather horrible one at that -
The kids have been to sleep,
Far and deep.
The night is young still,
For ours to keep.
None but the luscious moon in sight,
I'll hold you up, you hold me tight.
A kiss from your cherry lips, my love,
And one for the moon tonight.
I have always wondered whether a bit of ignorance can be bliss or a really bad thing when it comes to appreciating Hindi/Urdu poetry and I don't quite know yet.
My friend, who is on his way to becoming a hot property has written a few blog posts on Gulzar that are worth checking out if you have read thus far into this post. Although he has pampered me with my previous writings, I gather he did not like this translation at all because he was uncharacteristically silent.
5 comments:
Translating Gulzar - that is a very brave and bold attempt, I must admit.
The silence was not about dislike, but jealousy. Could not believe Gulzar could be translated so well, that too in rhyme.
Nice...now that you regained the mood don't stop writing....
Alas! This is what happens when "ghar ki murgi" becomes dal barabar. Hindi/urdu is my mother tongue and you were loosing sleep over this translation? All you had to do was ask :< but then this english translation wouldn't have happened. All credits to Dadu for that. He taught you well.
From the deliciously dark and pithy "Siddhartha" to translating Gulzar...July is proving to be quite a productive month for you, Anirban. Keep the mood swings going.
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