Manmohan Singh whom I have always held in high regard, disappointed millions in South Asia with his distastefully ill-timed hard talk during his Independence day address. As if Pakistan’s current misery was a time to blow India’s trumpet. He surely was also unaware of what his patriotic Indian poet, Ali Sardar Jafri had written years ago –Dialogue Souldn’t Cease. Here is an Urdu version with a full translation. Perhaps, someone should pass a copy of this poem to the exalted Prime Minister of India.
GUFTGOO BAnD NA HO
BAAT SE BAAT CHALEY
SUBH TAK SHAAM-E-MULAAQAAT CHALEY
HUM PE HAnSTI HUEE
YE TAAROn BHARI RAAT CHALEY
WO JO ALFAAZ KE HAATOn MEIn HAI SAnG-E-DUSHNAAM
TanZ CHALKAAYE TO CHALKAAYAA KAREIn ZAHR KE JAAM
TEEKHI NAZREIn HOOn
TURSH ABROO-E-KHAMDAAR RAHEY
BAN PADEY JAISEY BHI DIL SEENOn MEIn BE-DAAR RAHEY
BE-BASI HARF KO ZANJEER BA-PAA KAR NA SAKEY
KOI QAATIL HO MAGAR QATL-E-NAWAA KAR NA SAKEY
SUBH TAK DHAL KE KOI HARF-E-WAFAA AAYEGAA
ISHQ AAYEGAA BA-SAD LAGHZISH-E-PAA AAYEGAA
NAZREIn JHUK JAAYEInGI
KHAMUSHI BOSA-E-LUB BAN KE BAHAK JAAYEGI
SIRF GHUNCHOn KE CHATAKNEY KI SADAA AAYEGI
AUR PHIR HARF-O-NAWAA KI NA ZAROORAT HOOGI
CHASHM-O-ABROO KE ISHAAROn MEIn MOHABBAT HOGI
NAFRAT UTH JAAYEGI, MEHMAAN MURAWWAT HOGI
HAATH MEIn HAARH LIYE, SAARAA JAHAAn SAATH LIYE
TUM………………………………PYAAR KI SAUGHAAT LIYE
REGZAAROn SE ADAAWAT KE GUZAR JAAYEInGEY
KHOOn KE DARYAA SE HUM PAAR UTAR JAAYEIn
GEGUFTGOO BAnD NA HO
Dialogue shouldn’t cease;
let the talk go on,
let the evening of [our] meet persist till the arrival of morn,
let this starry night pass on joyfully.
Let the stone of abuse be in the hands of words;
let the cups of poison spill ridicule;
let the sights be irate;
let the eyebrows be raised;
[yet, we must see] that our hearts, somehow, keep beating.
The helplessness shouldn’t be allowed to chain the words;
no killer but he should be permitted to murder the voice.
Some vow of loyalty, fully moulded, will arrive by the morn;
the love will arrive, albeit limping, yet it certainly will;
the sights will elude meeting sights [out of modesty],
the heart beats will increase,
the lips will tremble;
the silence will turn into a kiss and go astray;
only the sound of the blooming of buds will linger;
and the need of words and voice won’t remain
[for] the liaison of love will be carried on with [the help of] the signs of eyes and eyebrows;
the hatred will vanish, the kindness will arrive.
Holding hands in hands;
in the company of the entire world,
we’ll go across the deserts of repugnance;
we’ll cross over the river of blood.
Dialogue shouldn’t cease.