Translation and reviewed by Mushtaque B Barq
To keep the essence of the subject well integrated, the art of translating a myth or a legend requires grit and gravity. To translate, a translator needs transformation, which perhaps, for some reason, I have bestowed both as a duty and a passion. The present poem, Wunal, by Shamshad Kralwari, a reputed luminary and broadcaster, is a complete saga of a civilization that has lived through an exacting situation. The poem is a vivid specimen of the catholic binary of pessimism and optimism. A saga of monsters as presented in verse form has a complex plot involving a serious tragedy involving a brilliant bard that runs neck and neck with yet another serious tale of ancestors, aided by motherly alertness and awareness. A poem is a complex whole of a story, which Shamshad Kralwari has artfully displayed in the present poem by taking refuge in symbolism and metaphoric context. For ages, ‘Fog’ has inspired many sensitive bards to put on canvas the mental agony and the lawlessness of monsters that roam around the trampled paths leading to the abyss. The poet has woven the runner of his observations on the loom of his imagination, using folklore to compare the contemporary world order with that of years past. The term ‘folklore’ refers to cultural expressions such as narrative, jokes, beliefs, proverbs, legends, myths, music, songs, dances, costumes, food, and festivals that help individuals and groups develop and disseminate a shared identity. However, there is no consensus among folklorists on how to define folklore or explain the complexities concerning its significance and function. By versifying an old oral tradition, the poet has combined various elements of folklore to create a remarkable work of art. The delusions created by the hanging cities of overcast sky have played a significant role in mystifying the background of the narrative, which for good reason finds an apt place in the poem.
The poem is densely equipped with some powerful symbols, like ‘the moon’, ‘Dal Lake’, ‘the monster’ and ‘fog’, in particular, to enrich the matter of the poem. The poet has turned the pages of history to bring to the fore the thread holding the subtle modules of the era in which he is living, in order to bridge the gap between our bygone days and the upcoming concerns. A walk on the bank of the river reminds me of many romantic poems, but here in the current poem, this walk is realistic in texture as it serves as a beacon light for the generations to come. This holy walk on the serene side of the river holds ground for future endeavours on the one hand and on the other reveals the gloom of the past, which has chased the imagination of the narrator like a monster cloud. After a spell of dominance, the poet has not forgotten to evoke a sense of optimism, which adds verve to the poem and addresses a suppressed class. By using the symbol of a star that can never be forced to forget to gleam, the poet has genuinely performed his duty to keep hope alive. The entire poem is like a spiral that rotates but never leaves the central chord that binds it, which has confirmed its organic unity.
The Fog
A legend says: it was once a station of giants and monsters
My ancestor would reside in a cave of this foggy mountain
He would in his own way thrive in the cave
With the passage of time, the fog faded
The burden of giants and monsters blogged down the earth
And in the cave of my ancestor, they were suppressed to encourage my ancestor to come
Out of the cave and could see the dazzling sun
The spectrum of his vision broadened, he took of his traditional dress and bedecked himself a fresh
The moon and the stars would pray for his longevity
I am among his progeny or following the line down
To take control of his kingdom
“How green was the water of the Dal of our youth”
Revealed my better half so early strolling across the bay of the Dal, plugging her nostrils
“What giant like cloud column emerged out
of the Dal”
“Do you still believe in supernatural creatures?
My great grandfather slipped the earth from
their feet
Now that in vain the Archeologists are aimlessly scratching the heap
Gradually the cloud column widened its posture
That squeezed the throat of the sun, leaving
the entire surrounding fade its sheen
The fadedness led to lifelessness and the eyes
surrendered to the dense fog
The open eyes but could not locate the toes of the feet
No one lends me his ear, O my comrades!
That mount of fog has burdened my head
No it the devil of dust, waiting to grab me as
a morsel
Sprawling, with its mouth wide open like the
cave of my ancestor
The frontiers of fancies shrank, a newly born baby
In her snow white hem was being lulled,
my affectionate mother conveyed:
“Come, take rest in my hem, you are
devoid of strength! Yes, it is foggy
Leave the place for the dazzling sun
The moon shall climb again
And the stars shall gleam again.
The title of the poem is apt, as it has created illusions and abstract illustrations to suit the setting of the poem. The title has by itself revealed the agony of the sun, which is held by monstrous clouds to bring down the curse of the tyrant. The poet has not disconnected himself from the proceedings of the poem, which is one of the major features of a serious poet. In most cases, either the narrator of the poem overshadows the poet or the parentheses break the flow, but in the above poem, the poet has only changed the attire but not the soul. The mood in the poem swings like a pendulum, which initially brings the bob of the clock out of the extreme end of the gloom, and then, before reaching the other extreme, the poem is supplemented with Mother’s longing and love. The bob of the clock before hitting the next extreme end has confidently frilled the runner with hope, so the mood of the poem shifts from agony to agility.
Aside from the aforementioned elements, the poem’s imagery deserves special mention. The entire poem is enclosed in a veil of visual, organic, and auditory imagery. Shamshad Kralwari has created a wonderful piece of literature by picking up the free verse genre of poetry. The lines in the poem are non-metrical and non-rhyming and closely mirror the natural rhythms of speech. A regular pattern of sound or rhythm may arise in free-verse lines, but the poet does not compose according to a metrical design. Free verse does not follow a set of precise rules. It is not entirely free, and Shamshad Kralwari has used the same module only to give himself complete freedom to narrate the sage, which appears to be a pertinent treatment to create the flow of his thought process. In these cases, this practice best suits the poet because he gives up the strict metre system for the sake of keeping his thoughts pulsating and uninterrupted. The poem can be operated on the dissection table by many other technicians, but I tried to keep it readable because of my own limitations and lack of toolbox.
The Fog is a delightful deal for students of literature and poetry lovers to learn how to translate folklore into poetry. This practice of translation is an excellent attempt to decode the legends and myths that we have been reading since childhood. The art of changing the medium of the text is not only an uphill task but is also dangerous, but Shamshad Kralwari is a blend of orator and seeker, which might have made it easier for him to take up this cumbersome task.
ABOUT THE REVIEWER
Mushtaq B.Barq is a Columnist, Poet and Fiction Writer. He is the author of “Feeble prisoner, “ Wings of Love” and many translation works are credited to the author like “ Verses Of Wahab
