Noon.Meem.Rashid and Hasan Koozagar-A thread.

The boy from Alipur Chattha who ended up being a nihilist dream merchant, Noon.Meem.Rasid, can be explained using one word: "abstractedness." Take the names of all his books (except one);

Mawra i.e The beyond, La Musavi Insaan (represented in print as la = insaan) i.e nothingness = human being, Gumaan ka Mumkin i.e possibility inhering in supposition.

His last book ends with the line: "Guman ka mumkin, jo tu hai, main hoon" (the possibility of doubt, that is you, and me). Ending his poetic career with an abstract line like that seems apt. Anyone who reads Urdu poetry can't deny the sheer beauty of his poems.

Persian prosody and linear verses are his specialty but one thing that critics agree on is: He CREATES sounds! His poems ring, they are musical. He does only one thing, makes and sells dreams. Dreams are the running theme in his poetry.

Rashid was agnostic and chose to be cremated after death, which caused a havoc among his Pakistani Muslim fans. His life was very interesting, that needs to be talked about, specially his politics but this thread is focused on only one poem so I won't go into unnecessary details.

His book La Musavi Insaan begins with what is famously called "The Quran of Poems" (because you discover a new meaning every time you read it), aka Hasan Koozagar, arguably regarded as the best free verse Urdu poem. The poem consists of four parts, each part covering 4,5 pages.

The first part receive glory previously unknown. You could have his poem memorized, like I do, would be repeating after Zia Mohiuddin and suddenly go "Ahhh!", that is the beauty of this nazm. Hasan Koozagar is a monologue by a potter named Hasan who lives in Baghdad.

Hasan tries to understand how the abstract worlds of love and mystery intertwine with the real world. Metaphysical themes are discussed here and there. the poem is a beautiful statement to love, art, creativity and their relationship to each other. Each section is set into a--

time and place which adds to it's beauty. At a whole, it seems like a pot which is made, remade and then remade. Moving from an artist's love for art to his passion for his lover, Rashid takes us along different geographies, time and that too in a bejewelled language.

Hasan ,in his soliloquy, talks about his unrequited love for the mesmerising Jahaanzaad literally meaning "daughter of the world". His passion caused him to go through nine years of insanity which ultimately caused him to leave his only other love i.e pottery.

Haasan talks about his unrequited love (because he encounters Jahaanzaad after nine years), and offers that if his primary love aka jahaanzaad wishes, he'll revert back to his secondary love i.e pottery. It is a strange story of desire and creativity; sanity and madness.

Perhaps my favourite thing is the eloquent and eerie description of passing time:

Jahanzad, nau saal kaa daur yuun mujh pe guzraa
Ke jaise kisi shahr-e-madfuun par vaqt guzray

Now this is a topic for a separate debate as to what makes a city to be pronounced "dead",

but these two lines are very powerful, no one can deny that. The lingering feeling of loss and nothingness is so beautifully explained, it almost feels surreal.

The despondence in his words when he talks about why do we love:

Meray is jhonpare main kuch bhi nahi
Khel ik saada mohabbat ka
Shab-o-roz ke is barhte hue khokhle-pann main jo kabhi khelte hain
Kabhi ro letay hain mil kar kabhi ga letay hain
Aur mil kar kabhi hans letay hain
Dil ke jeenay kay bahanay kay siva aur nahin

Harf sarhad hain jahan-zaad maa'ni sarhad
Ishq sarhad hai javani sarhad
Dil kay jenay ke bahane kay siwa aur nahin
Dard-e-mahrumi ki
Tanhai ki sarhad bhi kahin hai ki nahin

In this, my cottage there is nothing
A game of simple love
In the growing hollowness of night and day
Crying, singing, laughing
Just an excuse to keep the heart alive no more
Love, youth, tears and smile
All have limits
Have then the pain of loss
and isolation, no limit, no end?

His explanation of time and world:

Zamaana, Jahanzad, wo chaak hai jis pe meena-o-jam-o-subu 
Aur faanoos-o-guldaan
Ke maanind bante bigadte hain insaan

The world, Jahanzad, is a wheel where 
Like goblets and glasses and vases, humans are built and broken (ouch!)

This didn't even touch the poem the way I wanted but it's getting very long so, I'll end it here with that universal question:

تمنّا کی وسعت کی کس کو خبر ہے جہاں زاد

What really is the expanse of desire?

Here is a link to part 1 of the poem:

https://www.rekhta.org/nazms/hasan-kuuza-gar-1-jahaan-zaad-niiche-galii-men-tire-dar-ke-aage-noon-meem-rashid-nazms

Link to possibly the best rendition of it: