Bhawana Somaaya

Miss you Abba

On May 2002 renowned lyricist and poet Kaifi Azmi passed away. It is eight years but I still vividly remember the first time I met him.
“Abba, ye hamari achchi dost hain…,” Shabana Azmi said introducing me to her father Kaifi Azmi sitting on a cane sofa-set, surrounded by the unique ambience of Janki Kutir, in Juhu, Mumbai. His left frozen hand characteristically resting on the arm of the chair, the right pressing it gently, he said softly, “Dost hai to zaahir hai achchi hi hogi.” That was my first exposure to his subtlety.

Over the years, due to my close proximity to the Azmi family, I got used to his towering personality and the master strokes of his intellect. The beauty of affection is that it makes no cerebral discriminations. I was included in the stimulating mehfils frequently held at the Azmi household, even though I understood very little of the language or the ideology. His awesome personality and thundering voice never intimidated only enchanted his lesser aware audiences. That was his magnanimity.

His strength was that unlike other performing artistes, he never craved for reassurance and remained truly detached from flattery. In a particularly low mood one evening, I asked him what triggered him to write the achingly romantic verse, ‘Dil ki nazuk ragen tutti hain, yaad itna bhi koi na aaye…’ from Hanste Zakhm. He looked at me with blank eyes for a long time, then looked away. It was his ability to hold back always that made his rare gestures of attachment so precious to all those who loved him deeply.

My special memory of him is walking into his room one afternoon to find Abba (as I later came to call him) disdainfully watching his man-Friday unsuccessfully struggle to pull out the naada from his pyjama. As soon as he saw me, he beamed and heaved a sigh of relief. “Is waqt mujhe ek aurat ki sakht zaroorat thi,” he said, signaling his attendant to pass me the pyjama and get on with other routine chores.

Several such magical moments come to my mind as I pen my memories. He and I wordlessly watching a murder mystery over chai and khari biscuit, unusually comfortable in each other’s silence. Me visiting him at Bombay Hospital soon after his back surgery. Brave as usual, his humour intact, he said almost like a mourning beloved, “Aaj Sheeba ki bahut yaad aati hai..” Sheeba was the temperamental dog who never left Abba’s side for a moment. And considering how little Abba communicated with anyone, it was amazing how they bonded in silence.

Over the decades, Abba visited Jaslok Hospital several times, shifting floors, rooms and doctors. Gradually from a robust man whose presence filled the room, he shrunk to a frail figure, permanently laid up on a high bed and closely monitored medically. Surrounded by gadgets and wrapped up in tubes, he was forever in discomfort, but not once did he complain even though his suffering was apparent.

In his last days, he seemed detached even from his poetry. When Shabana plugged in the ear-phones of his walkman and played for him his old numbers, there was no registration or joy in his eyes. The only time he perked up was when receiving the news of the country, or the progress in his village Phulpur, in Mijwan. The anguish was always for the larger mankind, never himself.

On the day he passed away, his new dog Gauri paced restlessly from one room to another. Sensing her master, but confused over not finding him at his regular place, she whined periodically. It was an unusually hot afternoon and a never-ending night. Lines from his poem Makaan reverberated in my mind:
Aaj ki raat bahut garm hawa chalti hai,
Aaj ki raat na footpath pe neend aayegi,
Sab utho, main bhi uthun, tum bhi utho, tum bhi utho,
Koi khidki isi deewar mein khul jaayegi…..

No window opened up to soothe our pain however. In fact, as the hours passed, the heartache increased. Grief flowed and ebbed as different members of the family displayed strength and vulnerability at different moments. Pain was omnipresent and a pall of gloom fell over the house with dusk.

When music directors Jatin-Lalit dropped by to offer condolences, it was late evening and after a long time, there was a nip in the air. After the formalities, in a spontaneous gesture, Jatin began humming Kaifi Azmi’s memorable songs. Soon Lalit joined him, then Javed Akhtar, Neelam Shukla, Parvati Khan and other family friends. It was a magical moment. From the poignant ‘Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam…’ to the reflective ‘Jaane kya dhundti rehti hain aankhen mujh mein…’ the hopeful ‘Zara si aahat hoti hai…’, and the naughty ‘Sara mora kajra chudaya tune…’ to the inspiring ‘Itne baazu itne sar…’ Kaifi Azmi had a song for every mood and moment. Suddenly, the plants he had nurtured with so much love didn’t seem barren anymore. Suddenly, even our hearts filled with hope. Abba hadn’t gone away. It was apparent in the languid way Gauri lay asleep in the doorway. She had made peace. So had the swaying palm trees in the garden…

And so will us hopefully Abba, in your immortal poems and songs.

Bhawana Somaaya
www.bhawanasomaaya.com

This week I received two interesting invitations. The first for Tulsi Vivaah hosted by an NGO group called Parampara. On the eleventh day of the waxing moon in the month of Kartik after the festival of Deepavali is the marriage of Tulsi with lord Vishnu. It is called Devothani Ekadasi- that is the day of awakening the deities.

Manjulika Jhaver, poetess and publisher of inspirational books is the moving force behind Parampara, a movement dedicated to paying our obeisance to our heritage. “We are endowed with a great legacy and this tradition is a part of our psyche. We owe it to ourselves to provide an appropriate atmosphere to let it blossom” explains Jhaver.

Started in 1986 in Chennai, Parampara has set to redefine tradition at every turning point. It is identified for three projects: The Austerity Centre which is modeled on the great tradition of yagya and daan. The idea is to recycle energies, both tangible and intangible and sharing it with society. The second-Tulsi to create an awareness of the plant and its significance to environment and finally, Breath – how to control and exercise correct breathing.

On October 29 Parampara will be celebrating their annual event Tulsi yagya in Chennai to promote awareness. Like every year, the function will be attended by like minded leading artistes from the city and voiced their views on tradition and ways of preserving the values. It is a cause Jhaver feels strongly about. She says, “In Tulsi is hidden the consciousness and power of universal mother. She evokes spontaneous reverence in our hearts, represents the sublime beauty of nature. Our endeavor is to spread awareness through this yagya.”

Those interested in details may check out www.parampara.org

The second invitation for a fashion show with a difference, an interesting event titled ‘Mijwan – Sonnets in Fabric’.

A fund raising event for Mijwan Welfare Society and is the brain child of Namrata Goyal, 20 the daughter of Neeta and Naresh Goyal of Jet Airways. Namrata set her foot in a village for the first time when she accompanied her Godmother Shabana Azmi to her village Mijwan and it became a life transforming experience for her. She returned to the city with a mission to do something for the children of Mijwan and in a few days had initiated a movement strongly supported by a host of young and like minded friends on twitter, face book to come on board and set the ball rolling.

Shabana Azmi was deeply moved by Namrata’s enthusiasm and commitment to the cause. Her eyes glistening with tears, she recalled her father the noted Urdu poet, late Kaifi Azmi’s lines:

‘Koi to sood chukaye koi to zimma ley…
…us inquilaab ka jo aaj tak udhaar sa hai…

Shabana has always said in all her interviews that lines from her father’s poems strike an emotional chord and inspire her to work with renewed strength for the marginalised sections of society.
Mijwan Welfare Society (MWS) is an NGO founded by her father Kaifi Azmi in 1993 that works for the empowerment of villagers in a small village, Mijwan in Azamgarh UP where the poet was born. Kaifi saab believed that India’s remarkable economic progress can only be meaningful if it reaches out to rural India, where 80 percent of the population lives but is denied access to opportunity.

Kaifi Azmi was a rare poet who practiced what he preached. After suffering a paralytic stroke which rendered his left leg and arm incapacitated, he retired to Mijwan, a village frozen in time and wrote in anguish…

‘Woh mera gaon hai
Woh mere gaon ke choolhe
Ke jinmein sholay to sholay
Dhuan nahin mil at…’

It as a long and arduous journey filled with obstacles but the poet never gave up. Once when he was visiting home and the children in Mumbai, his daughter Shabana asked him why he could not live with them in the city and why he had to toil in the village. She said “You work so hard and so selflessly, don’t you get frustrated Abba when change doesn’t occur at the pace you want it to?” He took a long pause and answered with equanimity, ‘”When you work for change, you have to be prepared that it may not come about in your lifetime but the struggle must continue and also the conviction for it is bound to occur later, perhaps after you are no more and the struggle is worth it…”

Shabana has often told me that his words have provided her solace in all her pursuits for the enlistment of the weak and the dispossessed…Particularly after he passed away on 10th May 2002. Suddenly the village looked up to Shabana to carry forward her father’s legacy and she did. Today, MWS runs three schools, a computer centre and a Chikankari centre with a focus on the girl child. Today, Mijwan is a model village and now with the approching fashion show will be in the centre of attention of all.

Shabana cannot believe how a casual trip from her God child to her village has transformed the destiny of the village. She has always believed in the power of youth. ” A staggering 50 percent of India’s population is under the age of 25 years and they can change the world if they can be motivated in the right direction. It is all about tapping into your own reserves of strength…”

Namrata Goyal has tapped her resources and managed to conceive a fashion show with a difference and will be showcased as an Inter- collegiate fashion contest for Best Student Designer 2009, thereby providing an opportunity to Gen Next from five leading Fashion and Design Institutes to be mentored by ace designers like Manish Malhotra and Anita Dongre. The best 50 creations will be showcased on the ramp by leading film stars and professional models at Hotel Leela Kempinski in Mumbai on 15th Dec 2009.

The event is not only a superb opportunity for the students to build their portfolios but also a noble reason for the dream merchants to serve as youth icons. Kaifi Azmi always said that if we can overcome the digital divide between the urban and the rural India, we will be able to provide a level playing field to our children. Kaifi saab insisted that education is the key to all turbulence. He strived for quality education and fought against gender divides.

Today all the Kaifi Azmi Schools in his village Mijwan follow his ideals and exercise curriculums that is devoid of gender or religion divides. It inspires values of inclusion and social justice…To quote his very famous lines…

‘Pyar ka jashn nai tarha manana hoga
Gam kisi dil mein sahi
Gam ko mitana hoga…..’

Those keen on more may check out website.www.kaifiazmi.com

Bhawana Somaaya