"The writer who is out-of- country and even out-of
language may experience this loss (of migration) in an intensified form",
writes Salman Rushdie in The Imaginary Homelands. While this applies to the
typical literary figure in exile we studied over this course, the case of Agha
Shahid Ali appears to be different. Unlike Rushdie or Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Agha
Shahid Ali was not exiled from Kashmir/Srinagar like the two were from their
homelands. The voluntary migration might be the reason why his poetry is
imbibed with not just nostalgia, a yearning and concern for his homeland, but
also insecurity, and guilt. While one might argue that his state might not make
for exile as understood so far, but it can be said that his mental and physical
state of exile arises not much from the particular reason that keeps him away
but more from the acute distance he feels (and wishes to overcome) between
himself and his land.
Shahid's collection is based mostly on memory and
autobiographical references drawn from it. Focusing on one such poem "I
Dream I Am the Only Passenger on Flight 423 to Srinagar", there is a move
between the past and present, with a particular focus on a certain memory. This
poem encapsulates Shahid's relationship with the ghazal singer Begum Akhtar. It
is a poem about homecoming, but not in a glorious or joyful manner, but more so
along the line of returning to recover something lost, while being aware that
it is too late to do so. Much like Kandahar, there is a drive to return, a need
to reconnect, recover and reclaim. In fact, the view of the airplane touching
down and the cackle of the pilot's radio are images which provide a literal
representation of this. Memory is also shown to be failing, in that your
own thoughts, past and identity are not safe even within the confines of your
own mind and person. This is a theme which runs through many other works, like
Woh Jo Khoye Gaye. There was a similar idea there. Not being able to remember
how many companions one had, or what he looked like meant that by losing one's
memory, one had essentially lost oneself. The figure in the poet is unable to
remember the color of Begum Akhtar's sari as he leaves her in New Delhi. There
is a desperation and yearning that comes through when the musings about the
sari (Was her sari turquoise, What was it she wore that late morning, Her sari was turquoise!) interrupt the thread of
memory. It is also relatable on a basic level as when one has lost someone,
little things like these which may be ordinary and mundane, become elusive and
of supreme importance. He makes autobiographical references to the announcement
of her death, her last concert, and the rush to the Intensive Care.
The second half of the poem is markedly different from the
first half. Both center around two disparate figures; one being Begum Akhtar,
the other being Sheikh Noor ud-Din. The first weaves through memories in a more
personalistic and intimate manner, while the second one relates more to the
dream aspect of the poem. However, the biggest difference appears to me in the
implications of hope (or lack thereof) in the two sections. The first one,
revolves around a death, a sudden and surprising one at that, which violently impacts
the figure. The second one, while including the reference to the destruction of
Sheikh Noor ud-Din's shrine, has an element of spiritual hope ('Know its time
to return there-before ash filigrees roses carved in the wood of weeping
trees"). The motif of flowers and flames returns to signify the troubled
nature of the homecoming. "...if those smashed golds flying past those
petrified reds are autumn's last crimsoned spillage rushing with wings down the
mountainside or flames clinging to a torched village." This an image analogous
to Faiz Ahmed Faiz's "dehektay huay gulzar", blurring the line
between whether what is being witnessed is destructive or creative.
Wow. I just read this poem and I couldn't grasp a few things. This little piece you wrote simplified things for me. Thank you
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