Gulzar: A seeker in the shrine of poetry

I used to be with Gulzar Saheb on the Jaipur Literature Pageant (2008) when it was introduced that he had received the Oscar for his track, Jai Ho, in Slumdog Millionaire. We have been seated at a desk in a secluded nook of the venue, however with the announcement, our solitude ended and he was swept away by the crowds.

Once I referred to as just a few days in the past to congratulate him for profitable the Jnanpith award, he sometimes responded by saying: “Afsos ki is baar aap mere saath nahin thhe (A pity that you weren’t with me this time).” However his happiness at receiving this award — among the many dozens of others he has received, together with the Oscar, the Grammy, the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, six Nationwide Awards, 22 Filmfare Awards, and the Sahitya Academy Award — was clear.

The reason being that Gulzar is, at his core, a poet, and by extension, a author and film-maker. Writing — and studying good writing — has been his ardour since he was a toddler. When his household moved to Delhi after Partition, his father had a store, the place a younger Sampooran Singh Kalra — his authentic identify — was requested to take a seat after college. It was a tedious job, however the lad quickly found a lending library, from which he would borrow literary classics, and browse relentlessly, typically until late at night time. That was the time too that he found Tagore, which he typically says was a life-changing second.

Household circumstances led him to maneuver to Mumbai, the place he labored for a while in a motor storage as a painter, touching up dented autos. In his spare time, nevertheless, he was absorbed doing one thing related with phrases — chiselling, sprucing, and shaping them till they shone with poetic lustre. It was this absorption that led him to the Progressive Writers Affiliation, the place he bumped into film-lyricist Shailendra, who in flip gave him the chance to jot down for Hindi movies, with the track “Mora gora ang layle”, for director Bimal Roy’s 1963 movie, Bandini. Roy wished a Vaishnav contact to this composition — because the scene warranted — and Gulzar shocked him by writing one that is still unforgettable even as we speak.

His poetic sensitivity — and literary sensibility — informs nearly all the things he has finished in movies. His directorial debut, Mere Apne (1971), was based mostly on well-known Bengali author Inder Mitra’s story; Aandhi (1975) was based mostly on Kamleshwar’s story, Kala Aandhi; Mausam (1975) was impressed by AJ Cronin’s novel, The Judas Tree; Khushboo (1975) was a cinematic model of Sharat Chandra Chattopadhyaya’s Pandit Mashay; and Angoor (1982) was an adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors. After which, in fact, there may be his iconic tribute to Mirza Ghalib within the eponymous TV serial, the place his course, Naseeruddin Shah’s appearing, and Jagjit Singh’s voice, mixed to create pure magic.

Gulzar entered the world of movie lyrics reluctantly. His need was to grow to be a severe poet, and never write lyrics dictated by the tune, metre and scenario of a movie script. However his nice achievement was that even in movies, he by no means compromised on his chastity as a poet.

In Mere Apne, the track, “Koi hota jisko apna”, touched a uncooked nerve. In Aandhi, his poem “Tere bina zindagi se koi shikwa toh nahin” heralded a brand new literary freshness. In Khamoshi (1969), the lyric, “Humne dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehekti khushboo”, shocked audiences used to the identical jaded analogies. Even the track, “Chhaiyan chhaiyan”, within the movie Dil Se (1998), based mostly on Bulleh Shah’s Sufi outpouring, “Thaiyan thaiyan”, had a powerful poetic enchantment.

As a movie poet, Gulzar realised that his writing should catch the altering literary vocabulary, and the essence of the scenario. It was his poetic dexterity, subsequently, that made him compose the vastly in style track from Omkara (2006), “Beedi jalaee le jigar se piya, jigar ma badi aag hai”. And but, at any time when he might, he would write a track that gave full play to his magical — even startling — poetic imagery. Who else however Gulzar might write, in Aandhi, “patthar ki haveli ko, sheeshon ke gharaundo mein, tinke ke nasheman tak, is mod se jaate hain”.

Scores of different examples could be given of his stubbornly charming creativity even within the confines of lyrics for movies. However, Gulzar the poet got here into his personal in his writings outdoors of movies, and that is the place his everlasting literary legacy will lie. He has six volumes of printed poetry: Chaand Pukhraj Ka, Raat Pashminey Ki, Pandrah Paanch Pachhattar, Kuch Aur Nazmein, Pluto and Triveni, masking a span of over 4 a long time.

I’ve translated into English 4 volumes of his works: Chosen Poems, Uncared for Poems, Inexperienced Poems, and Suspected Poems. These comprise limitless gems, corresponding to Kitaben, Rooh Dekhi Hai, Kabhi Rooh Ko Mehsoos Kiya Hai, Mujhko Ko Bhi Tarkeeb Sikha Koi Yaar Julahe, to call just some, that are much more beloved by his followers than a few of his movie lyrics.

What astonishes me is that his non-cinematic poetic exuberance is close to limitless. The truth is, his dedication to poetry as a style is akin to ibadat or worship.

The Jnanpith Award for literature is a most befitting tribute to a person whose life has been dedicated to literature. It’s time now that he receives the Nobel Prize.

Pavan Ok Varma is an creator, diplomat, and former member of Rajya Sabha. The views expressed are private