Gulzar at 90

Dheere dheere se zameen khisak

rahi hai firr wahi

Rahu Ketu Shukr aur Shani

firr unhi gharon parr aake baithenge

Ek saal tak yeh kainaat mere

gird ghoomti rahi,

Ek saal baad firr lagan wahi,

tithi wahi August ki aatharvin…

His humour remains as sharp as his craft. Speaking to the ‘Renaissance Man’ Gulzar before his 90th birthday, I ask him, “What next? Do you feel there’s something still left that you want to do?” There is a pause. Then he laughs, “It looks like I have reached a point where you are asking me my last wish.” Over protests, he simply says, “I am living as long as I am living. I am living every day.”

Poet, lyricist, film-maker, writer — the world knows his many celebrated facets, but Gulzar is a prolific translator as well. At the moment, he is translating works of Bangla poet-philosopher Lalon Shah Fakir and Bangladesh’s poet laureate Kazi Nazrul Islam. Gulzar has translated works from many Indian languages. His book ‘A Poem a Day’ had 365 poems translated from over 34 Indian languages and dialects.

Is he learning any more languages so as to translate their works? The wordsmith gently corrects, “All the translations that I have done, which I am sharing with people, are not for the sake of translation but for the sake of learning. And if you want to learn, it has to be a lust, a lust for learning. That is why I keep on translating, only for learning. And what I learn, I share. I even learn from reactions to that sharing.”

Gulzar’s love affair with books started with jasoosi (detective) thrillers and tilismi qisse (magical fables), but it was Rabindranath Tagore’s ‘Maali’ (Gardener) that made the tomes the markaz (centre) of his life.

I am just being honest with myself. And if you are honest with yourself, then you are honest with people also. How I feel life, I try to express. And those who cannot write, I think they find those moments in my writing

“I have read translations of Russian, European and Spanish poets as well as English and American and I used to think that there are so many languages in India. Only a few languages, be it Urdu, Punjabi, Tamil or Telugu, can’t be representative of India. This would always make me wonder what is happening in the other Indian languages. Poetry, too, is a complete language, a complete world of expression. And that is what I think we should share with everybody,” says the poet-lyricist, who modestly claims to know “a little English, Urdu, Hindi, Bengali, Punjabi, Marathi and a little Gujarati”, but not many South Indian languages, “except for some bit of Malayalam”.

He recommends reading Malayalam poets K Satchidanandan and Kamala Das. “If you haven’t read Kamala Das, then something is missing somewhere.”

The avid reader that he is, he finds Ismat Chughtai’s resemblance in Das’ works — “a resemblance of expression of a liberated woman, a woman who has the courage to stand out”. And also draws parallels of Chughtai’s works with that of mystic poet Meera, whom he calls “one of the most liberated, selfless, standout women”.

Dina, his birthplace in Pakistan, and his Punjabi heritage are never far from his thoughts. Switching over to chaste Pothohari Punjabi, his mother tongue, he says he still uses many typical old-fashioned words from the language because that’s the only way to preserve it. He fondly speaks about his Pakistani friends Javed Nazar and Iqbal Nazar. “Iqbal is editor of Urdu risala (magazine) ‘Collage’, which he regularly sends to me. Whenever we speak, till I don’t converse with him in Punjabi, he always says, ‘Main treh reh gaya’ (I remain thirsty). Not many use such old-fashioned words. He never says ‘khuda hafiz’, he always says ‘rab rakha’. Mainu changa lagda gall karke (I feel good talking in Punjabi).”

He also recalls his visit to Dina, where he could even after ages recognise all the lanes and landmarks like the Mangla dam on Jhelum. “We would go to Rohtas, walking on kassi (soft sand left behind after the river water had receded), crossing the dariya (river). I also remember the Gurpurb celebrations at a gurdwara in Tilla Jogian, which Guru Nanak had visited. Tilla Jogian is the place where Ranjha had got his ears pierced and became a jogi. That Punjab only remains in memories now,” he says, his voice trailing off.

In a lighter vein, he also clarifies why he always wears a khussa (men’s Punjabi jutti). “I don’t wear a khussa because I am a Punjabi but because it is comfortable and it also looks good with salwar,” laughs Gulzar. He also shares an interesting anecdote about how he started wearing khussa. “When I was making ‘Meera’, during the shoot, I misplaced my chappals and boots. Because the raja-maharajas would wear that kind of jutti, the costume department had it in stock. The costume man gave me a khussa to wear. I found that very comfortable and also felt quite royal and enjoyed walking in it. After that, it became a permanent fixture.”

The man who’s always clad in a white kurta-pyjama dispels another myth. “I always wear kurta-pant, never a pyjama.” Khussa, too, has been replaced by soft tennis shoes now, as the hard leather pinches his ‘gitte’ (ankles).

There are other lesser-known facts about the grand old man of letters, like his being a huge sports lover.

Theatre director Salim Arif, a long-time associate and friend, recalls many evenings in the mid-1980s spent at the film-maker’s house watching tapes of a classic Sunil Gavaskar innings or a John McEnroe-Bjorn Borg tennis match. A keen tennis player himself, he still enjoys going for knock-up games. “At this age, I don’t want to take the risk of falling down.”

Reflecting on his journey of nearly seven decades, he says, “I am just being honest with myself. And if you are honest with yourself, then you are honest with people also. How I feel life, I try to express. Life touches you in the same way it touches me. And I try to express exactly what I feel. And those who cannot write, I think they find those moments in my writing.”

Happy birthday, Gulzar Saab.

In spirit, he’s very young

Gulzar Saab is a prolific writer. You cannot keep up with the number of books he comes up with every year. I have done two books with him, ‘In the Company of a Poet’ and ‘Jiya Jale: The Stories of Songs’. ‘In the Company…’ was a rare opportunity to discuss how he sees things. He’s so articulate. He doesn’t embellish his conversation, but because his diction and his command over the language is so poetic, it comes out as very lyrical. There is never a frivolous response. He takes questions seriously. He’s very observant, is a good listener and has a good sense of humour. In spirit, he’s very young. It’s very difficult to choose my favourite song but I particularly like ‘Tujhse naaraz nahi zindagi’. It is beautiful and philosophical.

— Nasreen Munni Kabir, writer, documentary filmmaker

One of the finest poets

I first met Gulzar Sir for a radio interview when I was a student in New York. Even then, he was such a down-to-earth person. It was only after I met him that I read all his non-filmi poetry. He’s one of the finest poets that I have read and known. The poem that has stayed with me is ‘Woh jo shayar tha chup sa rahta tha’. I worked with him in ‘Angoor’. As a director, he is particular about his lines. We had to deliver exactly the way he gave the rhythm of the sentence. We could not change a word or improvise. He wrote the foreword for my book, ‘Black Wind and Other Poems’ (2004). He has also included one of my poems, ‘Golden Dragon Crossing/Ek Crossing Par’, in his book ‘A Poem a Day’.

— Deepti Naval, actor, poet/writer

Carries wound of Partition

He has a very idiosyncratic, individualistic, whimsical and childlike way of looking at the world, which also finds reflection in his poetry. His metaphors are very unusual. In one of his poems that I was translating, he has likened the sunrise to somebody breaking open an egg and spilling the yolk all over a white plate. We first collaborated on the book ‘Footprints on Zero Line’ that compiled his Partition-related poems and short stories to mark the 70th year of the event. He still carries the wound of Partition because he doesn’t see it as a closed chapter but as a work in progress. He feels that as a nation, as a people, as a society, we are still suffering. His oeuvre is vast and his range incredible.

— Rakhshanda Jalil, writer, translator

Instant rapport with youth

I’ve worked with Gulzar Saab since his TV series ‘Mirza Ghalib’. He speaks very little and never unnecessarily. He never has an opinion on everything, especially on subjects he is not conversant with. He would rather like to know from you about it. He genuinely tries to understand your point of view. And this quality has kept him relevant. He has an instant rapport with the younger generation, which is not forced or patronising. That’s why he has a rockstar-like following among the youth. Another great quality about him is that he appreciates other creative persons. ‘Kharashein’ was my first play based on his poems. Initially, he was sceptical but was floored after he saw the rehearsal. After that, we’ve done 10 to 12 projects together.

— Salim Arif, theatre director, costume designer

He would never rush anyone

My first project with him was ‘Mirza Ghalib’. His films and writings are as simple as him, but being simple is so difficult. Badi-badi batein bahut sadagi se keh jaate the (He could say very deep things in a simple manner). He is very different from people in the film industry. Whenever we would be working on the sets, he would never rush anyone. He always said, “Aaram se, koi jaldi nahi.” I also worked with him in ‘Maachis’. He didn’t want any stars because he felt “mere ladke bade seedhe hain, jo halaat mein phas gaye hain (my boys are very simple, caught in the circumstances). When I got into filmmaking, it had a Gulzar effect. Whether it was the look or music, I would always think how he would react to it.

— Manmohan Singh, cinematographer, film-maker

He is a national treasure

I got to know Gulzar Saab first through his poetry. He was one of the poets who featured in my book ‘The Urdu Ghazal’, which I co-authored with Prof Gopi Chand Narang. While I have always admired his film songs, Gulzar’s creative soul pulsates in his literary creations. Living through Partition gave us Gulzar the storyteller; working in a crowded urban environment while traversing his path in the Indian film world produced a poet who pays attention to minute details that we are likely to ignore. Gulzar is a national treasure. His creativity as a poet, his passionate advocacy of love and compassion for people across borders, and his humility and courage to break with tradition and use of simple language touch the readers’ heart.

— Surinder Deol, writer, translator

Pioneering literary genius

I first met him in 2006 at the Afro-Asian Literature Festival organised by the ICCR, where I was Director-General. It was an informal evening and he asked me to recite some poetry. I read out some sonnets from my book ‘Yudhisthir and Draupadi’. Thus began a life-long association. I have translated some of his poems into English. He also translated ‘Yudhisthir...’ into Hindustani and presented it to me as a surprise. He also wrote a play, ‘Paasa’, on this poem, which was directed by Salim Arif. Gulzar is a pioneering genius who has changed almost the entire idiom of modern Urdu-Hindustani poetry, the imagery, the choice of words, the subjects and metaphors. I like many of his nazms, but find ‘Budhiya re’ and ‘Rooh dekhi hai’ quite deep.

— Pavan K Varma, diplomat, writer