Poetry of the Pathans

To the man in the street in India, specially in the cities, the Pathan hailing from and beyond the North-West Frontier is usually familiar only in two aspects: first, as a money-lender with the menacing looks of a miserly Shylock, supplemented by a thick-headed stick; secondly, as a picturesque physical frame, reminiscent of the bulk and brawn of some pre-historic creature. But it seldom or never crosses his everyday consciousness that the next door neighbour of the Punjabi has also a soul that sings and a heart that heals one of the sickness of the world and of the anaemia of inferiority, particularly political, generally known as gilded slavery. One has, therefore, only to meet the Pathan in the corridors of his interior life, which are accessible mainly through the golden gateway of his poetry, to revise his incomplete and so unjust opinion of the latter and to recognise in him a pilgrim-soul, walking abreast with you on the path of evolution.

Lately, while on a brief visit to the North-West Frontier, by a stroke of sheer good fortune, I lighted upon an old anthology, in English, of the poetry of the Pathans and I read through its pages with an unusual degree of delight. And it is in the spirit of sharing the delight, which I thus derived, with the readers of the Triveni,–a confluence of the True, the Good and the Beautiful,–that this short article has been written, even though it may just a string of selections and nothing more.

Before illustrating the script of his soul,–as one may characterize all creative arts like the writing of Poetry,–it may be remarked, however, that the language which the Pathan speaks is Pushtu, while his mind is a mirror of the silence and strength of the mountains that enfold him from the cradle to the grave, of the wisdom of the Quran and of the realization and radiance of the Spirit, as reflected in wave after wave of the wisdom-current which has coursed through it down the ages. His style has the honesty and hardiness of the hills.

The themes, dealt with by the Pathan in his poetry, are, in the main, ethical and mystic and that is easy to understand. The Pathan believes in the gospel of the straight stature that is why to him Sincerity is sovereign among human virtues. In terms of chronology the selections which follow cover a period of about a century and a half, ending with about the middle of the Nineteenth Century, while in those of personality they include such names as Abdur Rahman, Mirza Khan Ansari and Abdul Hamid.

And now let us listen to the rabab (the stringed musical instrument of the Pathan) as it has reverberated through the Khyber Pass:

God: “God is the artist and artificer of all and every created thing.”

Fortune (Fate): “Fortune is like unto a potter,–it fashioneth and breaketh.”

Charity:  “Should’st thou bestow but a drop of water on the thirsty, It will become an ocean between thee and the fire of Hell. “Should’st thou give but a grain of corn unto the hungered, Verily, it will be here after thy provision in eternity.”

Humility: “Should’st thou once bow thy head in the road of the Almighty, Thou shalt, at the last day, be more exalted than any.”

Honest Labour: “The , bent from toil, is indeed estimable, But not from a purse of ill-  gotten money round the waist.”

Poverty amidst Plenty: Should one eat delicious food, and another be eyeing it, Such is not victuals, it is mere poison, so to speak.”

Dominion and Devotion: “The dominion of Solomon for a thousand years, Equaleth not an hour’s devotion in this world.”

Character in Paradise: “Good habits, virtuous actions and a noble disposition. Are paradise and happiness, too, in this world.”

Death: a test of true greatness “When the time for the winding-sheet and ablution cometh, Unveiled and exposed become the veiled and modest of this world.”

World, a passing show “He should view his own self with bubble’s eye, If, in his heart, one would compute the length of life.”

Who is a Moslem? “He is the true Muslim amongst the whole of the faithful, Who hath burst asunder the Hindu cord of this world.”

Who is an infidel? “The infidel is that man, who constantly followeth after the flesh’s lusts; The true believer is he, who is ever anxious about his religion and faith.”

Who is a man? “A man is he, who is courageous and whom success attendeth, Who is gentle and affable unto all people, as long as life lasteth. His words few, but his deeds many, and in silence performed. With mouth closed, but bosom laid open like the bud of the rose.”

Who is a hypocrite? “The way of whose tongue is one and the path of his heart another, Let his very vitals be mangled and lacerated by the knife! Externally the serpent is handsome and symmetrically formed, But, internally, is with uncleanness and venom filled.”

Nature “Leave the monk in the monastery’s nook! I will to the garden; For the flowers of Spring instruct me in righteousness’ ways.”

Freedom “Though the King may cast him into prison, he will not grieve; For the liberty of the free is from the beginning of time.”

Gilded Slavery “The Afghans have gone mad about posts and dignities, But God preserve me from such plagues and troubles.”

Friendship “How many different kinds do the attributes of friendship embrace? Lip-friendship, loaf-friendship and friendship for the soul– Upon the altar of sincere friends make all things an oblation.”

God and Man “It is the navigator that guideth the ship upon the ocean; But it is the Almighty that preserveth her or sinketh her therein.”

Love “It was when thou and I were not, that Love was born, ‘Tis not that this influence hath been originated by thee and me. I am ignorant with regard to Love, as to what thing it is, But this much I hear, that from Beauty its effect proceedeth.”

Beloved “If, for once only, she will show her face from the veil, She will take the diploma of beauty from the Sun.”

Grace “The tree that is obscured will be ward in giving fruit, Until it shall be brought face to face with the Sun.”

The Universal in the Particular “I am the hearing sense within every ear, And also the sight of every eye am I; I am the potentiality in everything, I am the perception of every one within.”

The Finite and the Infinite “This is the rose–this is the thorn; This is Mansur–that is the gallow’s tree; This is the sick–that is the physician.”

Unity in Diversity “He became in unity and individuality, unique; In immensity and in infinitude He is diffused.”

Now that we have heard the Pathan himself sing, to the accompaniment of his rabab, without the interposition of an interpreter, we are sure revise our estimate of him and agree with him, on the whole, that “The Afghans are male–violent and ruthless and contentious, But give them for their modesty and valour due praise.”

And so, hereafter let the Pathan dwell in our consciousness more as a person equipped with his rabab, than as one armed with a rifle or with bulging bag of rupees under his armpit.