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Zahr-e-Ishq
(The Tragedy of Love)
A strange tale, lo, I
inscribe,
A humble man's tale of life.
It is such a novel tale,
He who hears is left amazed.
In the street where I abode,
A merchant also lived and throve.
A rich reputed gentleman,
Respected by the business clan.
He had a daughter moon-visaged,
As yet unmarried, still a maid.
Unrivalled was her tender grace,
Houri's envy was her face.
Though young she was a sober maid,
Her manners showed poise and grace.
Save, O God, from evil glance,
Her beauteous eyes that deer-like pranced!
Lest it may cause some unknown bale,
Her parents would not at her gaze.
She was without a peer, unique,
Sweet in looks, in voice, in speech.
One day the sky was overcoat,
The earth was also tinged with dark.
When the clouds had spent their might,
A rainbow spanned across the sky.
Tired of sitting all alone,
I climbed the stairs to gently roam.
As I felt relaxed, relieved,
I began to pace at ease.
When by chance my eyes were raised,
The merchant's daughter met my gaze.
A few of her friends stood beside,
They had come to watch the sight.
In a while they were gone,
Laughing, jesting all along.
When the damsel was alone,
She began surveying around.
When by chance clashed our eyes,
I couldn't help but raise a sigh.
I can't express my inward state,
I was about to fall and faint.
Not a word betwixt us passed,
Yet my soul was deep distraught.
My radiant moon was just in front,
But I was like a statue, stunned.
As it was close to eventide,
Her maid with a word arrived;
"You mother feels concerned a lot,
Here she an urgent call."
Obeying her mother's anxious call,
She left the roof and down did dart.
When I failed to see her sight,
I too perforce withdrew inside.
Sighing and crying I spent the night,
Ah, how I yearned to see daylight!
Grief consumed my heart away,
This is how I spent my days:
On terrace I would often stay,
Survey around and come away.
Oh, my eyes would drip and flow,
When I failed to see my rose.
As a result of ceaseless grief,
Pale became my rosy cheeks.
I had grown so weak and lean,
For years I've been sick, it seemed.
When my parents saw my plight,
They felt the biggest shock of life.
"What ails thee, O dear?" they asked,
"Where have you embroiled your heart?
Who has, in sooth, your fancy caught?
Whose grief is nibbling at your heart?
Which moon-like face is your desire?
Who has set your heart on fire?
You neither eat, nor drink, nor sleep,
But keep awake at night and weep.
Waste not, dear, your youth this way,
Rob us not of peace, we pray."
My parents' deep distressful talk,
Further lacerated my heart.
No reply to them I made,
Whelmed by grief I hid my face.
Thus far I have told my tale,
Now hear, how the other behaved.
Love, no doubt, did wound my heart,
But she too felt the poignant dart.
Inured to the pangs of grief,
She forgot her rest or sleep.
But when she felt extremely sore,
She lost content and self-control.
As she loved to read and write,
She put her thoughts in black and white;
"I wish you well and then inform,
My heart with parting pain is stormed.
When on roof I see you not
My restless heart is torn apart.
For God's sake, show your face,
Come to the roof, bless ye, Grace!"
Thus to her I gave reply:
Know thee not my wretched plight?
My very life is at stake,
For you haven't shown your face.
Without you I but pine and yearn,
Thank you for your kind concern.
Love indeed has miracle wrought,
A billet doux from you, my God!
Murderers are ye folks, indeed,
Deaf to the lovers' plaintive pleas.
You care two hoots for the others' plight,
It matters not if someone dies.
May I now request you please,
We should find a way to meet.
If you ignore my plea, my moon,
Surely it will cause my doom.
This is what she wrote me back:
"You are courting death, my chap!
How could I such things conceive,
I wrote in jest, to tickle and tease.
To die for you! What a shame!
Am I mad to court my bane?
Even if I had loved you, foe,
I would never have written you so,
I would rather choose to die,
Than my native grain defy.
You who crave for union sweet,
Are a simpleton, indeed!"
She wrote for sometime in this vein,
But then my fate for better changed.
My rose promised me to meet,
No more on this we disagreed.
True she was in word and deed,
She kept her promise, came to meet.
She came one nught and stayed till morn,
While departing, thus she warned:
"Remember what I speak to-day,
We'll come to grief one day.
Things will worsen beyond repair,
I'll die before you hear.
Now from you I must depart,
Keep me ever in your thoughts."
It so happened all it once,
She didn't come for full two months;
No word or greeting betwixt us passed,
All doors of joy were suddenly barred.
I wa harried by this thought:
What has suddenly come to pass?
But when it was Nauchandi time,
She found pretext to visit the shrine.
As for me she lived and died,
She came to meet me on the sly.
Throwing her arms around my neck,
Her heavy heart she thus expressed:
"My relatives our secret know,
How hard it is to meet you know!
On this strategem they are bent,
That to Benares I be sent.
Though I feel bereaved of wits,
I have come to tell you this:
"This mortal world is a chastening place,
Youth the curse of death entails.
Where once the buds and blooms did sway,
Thorns their prickly heads now raise.
Where nightingales did reign supreme,
You now would hear the owls scream.
Those who once were proud and young,
Counted among the mighty ones,
Forgotten are their glorious names,
Not a trace of them remains.
Where are the moon-like fairy dames?
The owner goes, the house remains.
Change is the changeless lord of laws,
The wheel of Time for ever revolves.
Man is transient, bound to die,
Death represents the truth of life.
If I take cyanide, and die,
Swear by me you shall not cry.
Engage your heart with your mates,
Or, come and sit beside my grave.
Keep yourself in full control,
Do not, I pray, my will ignore.
Getting news of my demise,
Come not rushing to this side,
Lose not heart, keep your cheer,
Shed no tears at my bier.
If you grow insane or wild,
My honour would be stigmatized.
Don't forget my last request,
Keep your mouth forever shut.
This may be our final night,
Love me now with all your might.
Love me now, hug me tight,
Let your passion spend its might.
Watch us now, hug me tight,
Let your passion spend its might.
Watch us now with all your zest,
None returneth after death."
Thus she said and back she rode,
While tears down my eyes did roll.
Her parting "will" obsessed my breast,
Which was with sundry fears oppressed.
Ah, then I heard a sudden uproar,
Which numbered my sense and left me cold.
A flame in my heart did rise,
Like a half-dead bird I cried.
I asked a friend of mine to go,
And find the cause of this uproar.
My friend returned running fast,
And brought the news that stunned and shocked.
This is what he said in sooth,
"There's a house in the neighbourhood;
That house by the garden-side,
Where a businessman resides;
Though the noise is wide-dispersed,
It rises from that house accursed."
"Ah, woe-betide!" thus I cried,
"Consuming poison she has died."
A doom-like din filled the air,
Crowds blocked the throughfare.
I was overwhelmed with grief,
A tremour gripped my hands and feet.
The sea of love within me roared,
I fell unconscious on the floor.
In a while when I revived,
I heard a noise, loud and wild.
There was a funeral on the road,
And disheveled heads of young and old.
Some elderly females too were there,
Who beat their breasts and tore their hair.
Beneath an awning golden-laced,
The fairy coffin lay in state.
A wreath of gold glittered above,
Like the spring's parting blush.
A floral sheet covered the bier,
Which lent its fragrance to the air.
Burning censers led the way,
Though dead, she breathed the sprit of May.
The crowds that with the hearse did walk,
Made it like the bridal march.
Behind them all the trader trudged,
Disheveled, dusty, deep-depressed.
In the palanquin at the end,
Rode the mother, tear-drenched.
In the palanquin at the end,
Rode the mother, tear-drenched.
"Hail to thee, my daughter dead,
Honour-sensitive, coyness-fed;
"Whose evil eye on you did stare?
You know not how your mamma fares.
What a tragic fate I own,
Devastated lies my womb."
Shattered by the traumatic sight,
Reaching home I took cyanide.
I lay unconscious for three days,
Oblivious all of time and place.
In this state I saw in dream,
My love with angry eyes agleam.
"Why did you poison yourself?" she asked;
My drying will you heeded not."
Thus much and she vanished sore,
I woke and found my sense restored.
Such, in sum, has been my tale,
My life has been a hard travail.
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