Usloobiyaat-e-anees

Who has not praised the poetic perfection and eloquence of Anees? However, it was Shibli who first did him justice, paving the way for future generations to acknowledge his poetic greatness. Later criticism of Anees has largely followed the path shown by Shibli. Despite the passage of three-quarters of a century, no fundamental addition has been made to what Shibli wrote regarding the poetic merits of Anees.

What Shibli wrote regarding the eloquence of Anees was, in essence, the final flare of the Eastern theory of poetry. The service Shibli rendered to Eastern poetics and aesthetics by writing Sher-ul-Ajam and Mawazna-e-Anees-o-Dabeer remains unmatched in its caliber. Hali’s case is different. He was the herald of a renaissance in poetry, the logical conclusion of which later manifested as an insistence on rationalism and utilitarianism. Shibli, on the other hand, was an admirer of the pleasure, eloquence, and stylistic expression found in poetry. Thus, both figures emerged as a deviation from the dominant trend of later Urdu poets, namely Nasikhiyat (the style of Nasikh). However, their respective reactions were shaped by their own individual temperaments.

During the time of Anees, two styles of poetry were prevalent. The first was the classical style, by virtue of which Mir Taqi Mir was acknowledged as the God of Poetry, and which, in a broad sense, was attributed to the poets of Delhi. This style was characterized by lyricism, pathos, emotional depth, the depiction of feelings, charm of expression, novelty of style, fluency, flow, and an elegance in conveying meaning—qualities commonly referred to as fasahat (eloquence). The second style was the one that Nasikh, along with his students, followers, and contemporaries, had elevated to the pinnacle of fame and solidified through their own poetic endeavors. In this style, mastery of expression, technical dexterity, verbal jugglery, rhetorical and semantic devices (in a limited sense), thematic invention, delicate imagination, and the display of erudition were considered the ultimate purpose and goal of poetry.

To fully understand the art of Anees, it is essential to recognize that his poetic persona served as a reaction against this highly artificial trend. In the Lucknow of that era, Nasikhiyat reigned supreme; it was the coin of the realm. Within the Urdu poetic tradition, the finest expression of linguistic mastery and technical dexterity was possible in the realm of the qasida (panegyric ode). Nasikh and his followers likely drew the strength for their artifice and soulless rhyming from this very tradition, because in the earlier tradition of the ghazal, there was no such precedent aside from Shah Naseer. Furthermore, the patronizing environment that had influenced Shah Naseer’s psyche to absorb these elements from the qasida tradition was present in a vastly magnified form within the aristocratic milieu of Lucknow. Nasikh and his followers not only transformed this tradition into a dominant trend within the ghazal, but they also made it so grand and dignified that all other styles paled in comparison.

In his marsiya (elegy), Anees consciously deviated from this dominant trend of his era. However, outdoing Nasikhiyat was impossible without employing its own weapons. The concept of fasahat has always been somewhat ambiguous and intuitive across every era; moreover, like any aesthetic concept, it can be felt on the level of personal taste far more easily than it can be objectively defined. Nevertheless, in the context of Anees, a question arises: was his eloquence the same kind of eloquence envisioned by the classical or intermediate poets, or did he add new dimensions to the prevailing concept of fasahat by drawing upon the qasida tradition (even if unconsciously) within the atmosphere of the marsiya? In this way, by transforming certain elements of Nasikhiyat, he challenged it head-on, imparted a new aesthetic flavor to the marsiya, and indirectly played a historical role in the defeat of Nasikhiyat.

It is also worth considering whether this is, in fact, his greatest contribution to the Urdu language. Shibli is a true connoisseur of Anees’s poetry, but it must be remembered that he is also his partisan. In this partisanship, the concept of Anees’s eloquence that he presents is unconditional, and perhaps in this regard, it requires revision, as will be explained later. Shibli found the traces of this eloquence in Anees’s own repeatedly stated claims. Shibli’s only fault is that, in his enthusiasm for praise, he accepted Anees’s statements at face value. This is despite the fact that in Anees’s famous marsiya, Namak khwan-e-takallum hai fasahat meri, the mention of balaghat (rhetoric) in the second line is not without reason: Natiqay band hain sun sun ke balaghat meri. Here, balaghat is not merely used for the sake of rhyme, even though Anees himself possessed a profound awareness primarily of his own fasahat:

Ek qatray ko jo doon bast toh qulzum kar doon

Bahr-e-mawwaj, fasahat ka talatum kar doon

[If I expand a single drop, I can turn it into an ocean

I can create a surging sea, a tempest of eloquence]

In this same famous marsiya, he declares with full poetic grandeur:

Yeh fasahat yeh balaghat yeh salasat yeh kamal

Mojiza gar na isay kahiye toh hai sehr-e-halal

[This eloquence, this rhetoric, this fluency, this perfection

If not called a miracle, it is surely lawful magic]

In another stanza, he says:

Hai kaji aib magar husn hai abroo ke liye

Teergi bad hai magar nek hai gesoo ke liye

Surma zeb hai faqat nargis-e-jadoo ke liye

Zeb hai khaal-e-siyah chehra-e-gul-roo ke liye

Danad aan kas ke fasahat ba-kalame darad

Har sukhan mauqa o har nuqta maqame darad

[Crookedness is a flaw, but it is beauty for the eyebrow

Darkness is bad, but it is good for the tresses

Kohl adorns only the magical narcissus-like eye

A black mole adorns the rose-like face

Only he who possesses eloquence in his speech knows

That every word has its occasion, and every dot its place]

Regarding the marsiya of Anees, there is a need to thoroughly examine a specific aspect: does the eloquence that Anees claims for himself, and which Shibli and subsequent critics praise, have a deep connection to his highly artistic utilization of the musaddas (six-line stanza) form? And if so, in elevating the musaddas to such a high status, which elements of the Urdu poetic tradition did Anees transform, and what resources did he employ? The musaddas is not an invention of Anees. The use of the musaddas form for the marsiya had become prevalent long before him. Anees simply polished it and elevated it to such artistic heights that this form became immortal in Urdu, leaving a lasting impact that later nazm poets continued to absorb.

It is well known that the formal structure of the marsiya (elegy) evolved gradually over time. Azhar Ali Farooqi notes that in its early days, the marsiya was composed in the forms of the ghazal and the mathnawi. This was because these forms were highly suited for soz-khwani (elegiac chanting) and melodic recitation (Urdu Marsiya, Allahabad edition, 1958, p. 8). Similarly, marsiyas were also written in the murabba (four-line stanza) and do-beeti (two-couplet) forms. Up until the era of Mir and Sauda, the marsiya was composed in virtually every poetic form (Sifarish Hussain Rizvi, Urdu Marsiya, Tarikh-e-Marsiya, Delhi edition, 1965, p. 193). At that time, the marsiya had not yet achieved a distinct literary status. It was primarily a medium for evoking tears and earning spiritual reward. The adage a failed poet becomes a marsiya writer likely originated during this period. However, by the time of Mir and Sauda, literary expectations began to be associated with the genre. Masih-uz-Zaman rightly observes that Sauda possessed a versatile genius (Urdu Marsiye Ka Irtiqa, Lucknow edition, 1968, p. 115). Through his intellect and innovative thinking, Sauda introduced new dimensions to the genre. In his quest to elevate the marsiya to a literary status, he experimented with various forms before finally arriving at the musaddas (six-line stanza). Although Sauda composed marsiyas in several forms—such as the mukhammas (five-line stanza), mustazad (augmented verse), and dohra band (couplet stanzas)—he is generally credited with writing the first marsiya in the musaddas form.

In his treatise Sabeel-e-Hidayat, Sauda severely criticizes Muhammad Taqi Taqi and mocks his mere rhyming. This indicates that by that time, the literary status of the marsiya was beginning to be recognized. Poets no longer viewed its purpose as purely elegiac; they now considered poetic merit to be essential. Up to that point, various forms—including the qasida, murabba, tarji-band, tarkib-band, mukhammas, and mustazad—had all been tested for the marsiya. However, the technical device that served as the first step toward the unique phonetic resonance and structural drama of the musaddas was the popularization of marsiyas that used a Persian or Braj Bhasha couplet, or a final line, as a refrain (teep). Occasionally, each stanza was also anchored by varying lines.

In certain marsiyas, one can even find a structure where the first four lines follow one meter, while the concluding couplet (bayt) follows another. The musaddas features four rhyming lines followed by a couplet with a different rhyme scheme. This continuous fluctuation in sound and rhythm created profound aesthetic and dramatic possibilities. The appeal of these shifting cadences was likely first recognized through these early experiments. In any case, it is clear that the musaddas had become prevalent during the era of Mir and Sauda. Although the majority of Mir's marsiyas are in the murabba form, and more than half of Sauda's seventy-two marsiyas are also murabbas—with only six composed as musaddas—Sauda's creative genius and diverse structural experiments suggest that he played a major role in transitioning the marsiya into the musaddas form.

It is worth noting that Urdu poetry borrowed almost all of its genres—such as the ghazal, qasida, mathnawi, and rubai—from Persian. However, the structural form of the marsiya as a musaddas took shape exclusively in India. In Persian, the marsiya originated with Muhtasham Kashani (d. 996 AH), but all of his elegies, including his famous Dawazdah Band (Twelve Stanzas), are structured in the form of a qasida (Saeed Nafisi, Tarikh-e-Nazm-o-Nasr dar Iran o dar Zaban-e-Farsi, Iranian edition, 1344 Solar AH, p. 443). Dr. Raza Zada Shafaq notes in Tarikh-e-Adabiyat-e-Iran that Muhtasham Kashani's tarji-band is also renowned among the elegies written for the martyrs of Karbala (1955 edition, p. 464). In short, while the metrical framework of the Urdu marsiya may share those origins, the semantic and poetic unit that emerged in Urdu through the musaddas form has no precedent in either Arabia or Iran. It is an entirely indigenous creation of Urdu, representing a dimension of Urdu poetry that has not yet been fully explored.

Now consider another aspect: the role that taht-khwani (rhythmic recitation without melody) might have played in the formation of the musaddas. Up until the Delhi era, marsiyas were traditionally recited with melody and musical rhythm. Consequently, more attention was paid to voice, tune, tempo, and musicality than to poetic merit. At that time, Delhi had numerous ashurkhanas (mourning halls) where majlises (mourning assemblies) were held. Dargah Quli Khan, who resided in Delhi from 1738 to 1741, mentions in his Muraqqa-e-Dehli that the Persian marsiyas of Muhtasham Kashani and Hasan Kashi, as well as the Rauzat-ush-Shuhada, were recited in these assemblies (Muraqqa-e-Dehli, compiled by Syed Muzaffar Hussain, pp. 50–54). It is reasonable to assume that as the marsiya gradually integrated into the broader poetic tradition, melodic recitation was replaced by taht-khwani. Simultaneously, the literary essence of the marsiya began to flourish. For the purpose of taht-khwani, the mukhammas or musaddas forms were far more suitable than the ghazal or murabba.

During Sauda's era, the practice of inserting dohras (couplets) or using a teep (refrain) in a tarji-band was already well established. It was customary to use dohras from Braj Bhasha and refrain couplets from Persian. This practice was not unlike the Rekhta tradition of grafting Braj and Persian together in Urdu. The roots of this linguistic blending were deeply embedded in the sama (spiritual listening) gatherings, driven by the widespread popularity of Sufism. The enduring remnants of this tradition can still be observed in modern-day qawwalis.

Regarding the popularization of the musaddas in the marsiya, it is also important to note that our classical poetry is primarily composed of the ghazal, qasida, mathnawi, and rubai. Since it has already been established that the marsiya is a purely indigenous formal manifestation of Urdu poetry, could it be that the essence of all four of these classical genres dissolved into the formation of the marsiya's musaddas? It is well known that Anees, following the literary trends of his time, initially turned to the ghazal. Later, upon the advice of Mir Khaliq, he bid farewell to the ghazal—transforming his poetic efforts into salaams (elegiac salutations) to earn spiritual reward in the hereafter. It is an open secret that a salaam is essentially a ghazal that expresses devotion to the Imams. If we look at the events of Karbala, it becomes evident that all the incidents within this context are tied to a historical tradition of high resolve, valor, and the fortitude of the self—traits that have been the defining characteristics of Islam and the Semitic mind.

For the continuous narration of events, we had the mathnawi; for recounting tales of resolve and bravery, we had the qasida; and for expressing subtle emotions, we had the ghazal. Consequently, during the era of melodic recitation, all these forms contributed to the marsiya in one way or another. However, none of these individual genres could fulfill all the requirements of the mourning assemblies. Marsiyas could not function like the Shahnameh or the Sikandarnameh, because an elegy does not present the events of Karbala as a single, continuous, and interconnected narrative. Instead, individual events had to be isolated so that a marsiya could be concluded in a single sitting, while still fulfilling its primary purpose of evoking tears. The qasida was strictly a vehicle for praise. In contrast, centuries had passed since the martyrdom of the marsiya's subject; the goal here was not just praise, but to revive the memory of his virtues and shed tears in his grief.

During the recitation of a majlis (mourning assembly), it was necessary to divide the narrative into stanzas when recounting the tale of any of the martyrs of Karbala. Each stanza was meant to evoke the impression of a specific image, scene, aspect, event, dialogue, or tragedy. This imagery then had to be drawn together at the end of each stanza in a way that struck the listener's emotions and imagination, allowing them to gradually lose themselves in that historical atmosphere as the marsiya (elegy) progressed. The purpose behind the conclusion of a stanza recalls the art of the rubai (quatrain), where the essence of the thought is delivered in the fourth line. The difference here was that the first four lines of the stanza shared the same rhyme. However, the function of the rubai's fourth line was now performed by a concluding bait (couplet) rather than a refrain (teep), which brought the stanza's thematic atmosphere to completion. Ultimately, this gave rise to the specific stanza form of the Urdu marsiya known as the musaddas (a six-line stanza). However, my focus here is not primarily on the elements of the masnavi or the rubai. While they may share a semantic relationship, the musaddas shares a much deeper stylistic and structural connection with the qasida (panegyric ode) and the ghazal, which will be analyzed later in this essay.

By the time of Mir Anees, the musaddas form had become highly refined. What is fascinating is not just how much Anees’s poetic genius influenced this form, but also how his signature eloquence (fasahat) took shape when poured into this specific mold. This gave rise to a poetic style whose unparalleled brilliance is universally acknowledged, yet its stylistic and phonetic building blocks have never received adequate critical attention. To analyze this phenomenon, let us first look at the masterpiece marsiya by Anees mentioned at the beginning of this essay: Namak khwan-e-takallum hai fasahat meri (My eloquence is the salt-taster of speech). Consider these two stanzas from its chehra (introductory section):

Subh-e-sadiq ka hua charkh pe jis waqt zuhoor

Zamzame karne lage yaad-e-ilahi mein tuyoor

Misl-e-khursheed bar-amad hue khaime se huzoor

Yak-ba-yak phail gaya chaar taraf dasht mein noor

Shash-jihat mein rukh-e-maula se zuhoor-e-haq tha

Subh ka zikr hai kya chaand ka chehra faq tha

[When the true dawn appeared upon the sky,

The birds began their melodies in remembrance of God.

Like the sun, His Eminence emerged from the tent,

And suddenly, light spread across the desert in all directions.

In all six dimensions, the truth manifested from the Master's face;

What to say of the morning, even the moon's face turned pale.]

Thandi thandi woh hawain, woh bayaban, woh sahar

Dam-ba-dam jhoomte the wajd ke aalam mein shajar

Oas ne farsh-e-zumarud pe bichhaye the guhar

Looti jaati thi lehakte hue sabze pe nazar

Dasht se jhoom ke jab baad-e-saba aati thi

Saaf ghunchon ke chatakne ki sada aati thi

[Those cool breezes, that wilderness, that dawn,

The trees swayed continuously in a state of ecstasy.

The dew had scattered pearls upon the emerald floor,

The gaze was captivated by the waving greenery.

When the morning breeze came swaying from the desert,

The sound of buds blooming could be heard clearly.]

At first glance, one notices that the first four lines of both stanzas end with the r sound—namely, zuhoor, tuyoor, huzoor, noor in the first stanza, and sahar, shajar, guhar, nazar in the second. In phonetic terminology, a syllable ending in a consonant is known as a closed syllable (paband rukan), while one ending in a vowel (such as alif, waw, or ye) is called an open syllable (azad or khula hua rukan). In this regard, the rhymes (qawafi) of the first four lines in both stanzas are closed syllables, and they completely lack a refrain (radif). In contrast, if we examine the concluding couplet (bait) of both stanzas, we see not only the presence of a radif, but specifically a radif that ends on an open syllable. For instance, haq tha and faq tha in the first stanza, and saba aati thi and sada aati thi in the second. Now, let us move a little further and observe these stanzas:

Ae khusha husn-e-rukh-e-Yusuf-e-Kanaan-e-Hasan

Rahat-e-rooh-e-Husain ibn-e-Ali, jaan-e-Hasan

Jism mein zor-e-Ali, taba mein ehsaan-e-Hasan

Hama-tan khulq-e-Hasan, husn-e-Hasan, shaan-e-Hasan

Tan pe karti thi nazakat se girani poshak

Kya bhali lagti thi bachpan mein shahani poshak

[Oh, the joyous beauty of the face of the Joseph of Hasan's Canaan,

The comfort of the soul of Husain son of Ali, the life of Hasan.

In his body the strength of Ali, in his nature the benevolence of Hasan,

From head to toe, the character of Hasan, the beauty of Hasan, the glory of Hasan.

Due to his delicacy, the garments felt heavy upon his body;

How lovely those royal robes looked upon him in his childhood.]

Jab fareeze ko ada kar chuke woh khush-kirdar

Kas ke kamron ko ba-sad shauq lagaye hathyar

Jalwa-farma hue ghore pe shah-e-arsh-waqar

Alam-e-fauj ko Abbas ne khola ik baar

Dasht mein nikhat-e-firdaus-e-bareen aane lagi

Arsh tak is ke pharhare ki hawa jaane lagi

[When that man of noble character had fulfilled his duty,

Tightening his belt, he eagerly donned his weapons.

The king of heavenly dignity graced his steed,

And Abbas unfurled the army's standard all at once.

The fragrance of the highest paradise began to waft through the desert,

And the breeze from its fluttering banner reached up to the heavens.]

Lehar woh sabz pharhare ki woh panje ki chamak

Sharm se abr mein chhup jaata tha khursheed-e-falak

Kehte the sall-e-ala charkh pe uth uth ke malak

Dang the sab woh sama se tha samaan ta-ba-samak

Kahiye pasti use jo auj huma ne dekha

Woh samaan phir yeh kabhi arz-o-sama ne dekha

[That wave of the green banner, that gleam of the metallic crest,

The sun in the sky would hide in the clouds out of shame.

The angels in the heavens would rise and send blessings,

Everyone was astounded, the spectacle stretched from the sky to the depths of the earth.

Call it lowliness, that which the mythical Huma bird saw as the zenith;

Did the earth and sky ever witness such a spectacle again?]

Do words like chamak, falak, malak, samak, or Kanaan-e-Hasan, jaan-e-Hasan, ehsaan-e-Hasan, shaan-e-Hasan—all of which end on consonants and form closed syllables—not evoke the grandeur of the qasida? Now, let us examine the concluding couplets (baits). Setting aside the couplet of the first stanza, the couplets of the latter two stanzas feature an open radif—meaning they end on vowels rather than consonants. Read this couplet once more:

Dasht mein is ke pharhare ki hawa jaane lagi

Arsh tak is ke pharhare ki hawa jaane lagi

[The breeze from its fluttering banner began to sweep through the desert,

The breeze from its fluttering banner reached up to the heavens.]

One immediately senses that the lyrical spirit of the ghazal (taghazzul) is speaking through the lines of this couplet. In a marsiya, whether it is the chehra (introduction), sarapa (physical description), aamad (arrival on the battlefield), rajaz (martial boast), razm (combat), or shahadat (martyrdom)—all these structural elements share a semantic affinity with the qasida. The qasida demands the expression of a particular grandeur, a lofty tone, majesty, and pomp. Similarly, the marsiya aims to eulogize valiant and fearless warriors who did not hesitate to make the ultimate sacrifice. Thus, the sublimity of the subject matter demanded a rhetorical force that closely mirrored the thematic and structural atmosphere of the qasida. If you examine any successful qasida from a phonetic standpoint, you will find a resonant chain of closed rhymes—syllables ending in consonants. Consciously or unconsciously, the discerning eye of Anees’s eloquence could not overlook this fundamental requirement of the qasida.

Having understood this, it becomes easy to recognize Anees’s true mastery: even while adopting the spirit of the qasida and composing stanzas with closed rhymes, he never allowed the language to become ponderous. Instead, he maintained absolute fluency and flow alongside majesty and a lofty tone. By introducing the gentle cadence of the ghazal into the structure, he blended the qasida and the ghazal, thereby elevating the marsiya to a new aesthetic and stylistic level. Anees’s celebrated eloquence is defined precisely by this new stylistic plateau.

At this point, an immediate question arises: does this reliance on closed rhymes in Anees’s stanzas serve as a common denominator across all his marsiyas, or is it limited to just a few specific stanzas? For instance, the opening lines of several famous marsiyas that readily come to mind seem to contradict this theory of closed rhymes:

Jab qata ki masafat-e-shab aaftab ne

[When the sun traversed the journey of the night]

Kya ghaziyan-e-fauj-e-khuda naam kar gaye

[What a name the warriors of God's army made for themselves]

Jab ran mein sar-buland Ali ka alam hua

[When Ali's standard was raised high on the battlefield]

Phaara jo gareban shab-e-aafat ki sahar ne

[When the dawn of the night of calamity tore its collar]

Dasht-e-dagha mein noor-e-khuda ka zuhoor hai

[The light of God manifests in the desert of deceit]

Kya fauj-e-Husaini ke jawanan-e-haseen the

[What handsome youths comprised Husain's army]

Jab khatima ba-khair hua fauj-e-shah ka

[When the king's army met its blessed end]

These lines might lead one to believe that the premise regarding closed rhymes presented above is incorrect, as it is not corroborated by the opening lines (matlas) of these famous marsiyas. Consequently, all four Nawal Kishore volumes of Anees’s marsiyas were consulted to form a definitive conclusion regarding the validity of this premise. The total number of marsiyas across these four volumes, along with the distribution of rhymes ending in closed and open syllables, is as follows:

In Volume I, there are a total of 29 marsiyas, of which 22 begin with open rhymes and 7 with closed rhymes.

In Volume II, there are a total of 26 elegies, out of which 19 begin with open rhymes and 7 with closed rhymes.

In Volume III, there are a total of 18 elegies, out of which 15 begin with open rhymes and 3 with closed rhymes.

In Volume IV, there are a total of 33 elegies, out of which 26 begin with open rhymes and 7 with closed rhymes.

Grand Total: There are 106 elegies, out of which 82 begin with open rhymes and 24 with closed rhymes.

This seems to prove that the number of stanzas with closed rhymes is less than a quarter, and that the closed structure of the musaddas (six-line) stanza we were emphasizing is misleading. However, this is not actually the case. We have been deceived here by the fact that this average only applies to the opening stanzas of the elegies, not the subsequent ones. It will be surprising to learn that the nature of the hundreds of subsequent stanzas is entirely different. This chart at least proves that Anees begins most of his elegies with open-rhymed stanzas (ending in vowels). But as his creative energy surges and his imagination takes flight, he consciously or subconsciously embraces the spirit of the qasida (panegyric ode) and employs closed rhymes (ending in consonants). This does not mean that open-rhymed stanzas do not appear at all. They do, and quite certainly, but Anees's dominant inclination is toward closed rhymes, or consonants.

In Anees's elegies, besides the two stanza forms mentioned above—closed and open—another form is also found. Technically, these stanzas have a radif (refrain), but their qafiya (rhyme) remains closed, meaning it ends on a consonant. This is evident in the following stanzas through rhyming words like qamat (stature), surat (appearance), saulat (awe), himmat (courage), paikar (body), barabar (equal), par (on), and bahar (outside):

Sarv sharmaye qad is tarah ka qamat aisi

Asadullah ki tasveer thay surat aisi

Sher naaron se dehal jatay thay saulat aisi

Ja ke pani na piya nehar pe himmat aisi

Jaan jab tak thi itaat mein rahay bhai ki

Thay alamdar magar bachon ki saqqai ki

[The cypress would be shamed by such a height, such a stature;

He was the very image of the Lion of God, such was his appearance.

Lions would tremble at his battle cries, such was his awe;

He reached the river but did not drink, such was his courage.

As long as he had life, he remained obedient to his brother;

He was the standard-bearer, yet he served as the water-carrier for the children.]

Abr dhalon ka utha tegh-e-do-paikar chamki

Barq chhupti hai yeh chamki toh barabar chamki

Su-e-pasti kabhi kaundi kabhi sar par chamki

Kabhi amboh ke andar kabhi bahar chamki

Jis taraf aayi woh nagan usay dastay dekha

Menh saron ka saf-e-dushman mein barastay dekha

[A cloud of shields arose, and the two-bodied sword flashed;

Lightning hides itself, but when this flashed, it flashed continuously.

Sometimes it struck downwards, sometimes it flashed overhead;

Sometimes it flashed inside the throng, sometimes outside.

Whichever way that serpent went, it was seen biting;

A rain of heads was seen falling in the enemy ranks.]

Stanzas of this type actually fall under the category of closed rhymes as well. Viewed from this perspective, the elegy under consideration, Namak khwan-e-takallum hai fasahat meri (My eloquence is the salt-cellar of speech), has the following ratio of closed to open stanzas:

Total stanzas: 102

Stanzas with closed rhymes: 55

Stanzas with open, free rhymes: 47

In other words, the dominant trend is toward stanzas with closed rhymes, but this is the case for only one elegy.

This premise cannot be conclusively proven until it is corroborated by other elegies. For further analysis, we selected another masterpiece elegy by Anees, Jab qata ki masafat-e-shab aaftab ne (When the sun traversed the journey of the night). The results of its analysis are as follows:

Total stanzas: 194

Closed rhymes: 140

Open rhymes: 54

Now, the following average is obtained from these two elegies:

Total stanzas: 102 + 194 = 296

Closed rhymes: 55 + 140 = 195

Open rhymes: 47 + 54 = 101

Thus, stanzas with closed rhymes account for 66 percent, or two-thirds, of the total stanzas. This is the situation in two famous elegies. To conclusively prove this premise, we utilized all four volumes of Anees's elegies published by the Naval Kishore Press, randomly opening each volume to five different elegies without any specific selection. The results that emerged from this random and unintentional analysis are as follows:

Volume I: pp. 62-63 = 15 + 3

pp. 194-195 = 10 + 8

pp. 260-261 = 13 + 5

pp. 310-311 = 9 + 9

pp. 338-339 = 13 + 5

Total stanzas: 90; 60 closed, 30 open

Volume II: pp. 64-65 = 12 + 6

pp. 130-131 = 11 + 7

pp. 200-201 = 7 + 11

pp. 262-263 = 12 + 6

pp. 298-299 = 7 + 11

Total stanzas: 90; 49 closed, 41 open

Volume III: pp. 20-21 = 14 + 4

pp. 32-33 = 12 + 6

pp. 62-63 = 6 + 12

pp. 146-147 = 13 + 5

pp. 210-211 = 13 + 5

Total stanzas: 90; 58 closed, 32 open

Volume IV: pp. 48-49 = 6 + 12

pp. 110-111 = 9 + 9

pp. 148-149 = 9 + 9

pp. 208-209 = 10 + 8

pp. 278-279 = 14 + 4

Total stanzas: 90; 48 closed, 42 open

48 closed, 42 open

58 closed, 32 open

49 closed, 41 open

60 closed, 30 open

Grand Total: 360 stanzas; 215 closed, 145 open

Average = 60 percent

In the Naval Kishore volumes, there are nine stanzas per page. Thus, two facing pages contain eighteen stanzas. Each volume was opened at five random places, meaning 18 x 5 = 90 stanzas were taken from each volume. In this way, the total number of stanzas from the four volumes came to 360, out of which 215 feature closed rhymes and 145 feature open rhymes, resulting in an average of 60 percent. Therefore, the premise we presented based on the analysis of the two famous elegies, Namak khwan-e-takallum hai fasahat meri and Jab qata ki masafat-e-shab aaftab ne, has now been corroborated by the random sampling analysis taken from all the volumes. This means that the dominant trend in the stanzas of Anees's elegies leans toward closed sounds, or consonants. Thus, it would not be unjustified to say that the spirit of the qasida has taken on a new form in Anees's elegies.

Now, let us consider the baits (couplets) of the musaddas—that is, the final two lines of the stanza—whose open refrains and expressive vowels or musicality establish a direct and genuine connection with the structural grace of the ghazal (lyric poem). Pick up any collection of ghazals; unless the poet's sole aim is to conquer exceptionally difficult meters and rhymes, the majority of the couplets will feature open sounds—that is, rhymes and refrains ending in vowels. These fall under the categories of alif (a), wao (o/u), and ye (i/e), or the nasal noon that accompanies them. This exact phonetic quality is found in Anees's couplets. In the two famous elegies by Anees mentioned above, out of their 194 + 102 = 296 couplets, there is not a single one that lacks an open refrain ending in a vowel. Regarding these couplets, a few points demand special attention:

1. The use of a radif (refrain) is strictly maintained in every couplet.

2. Open sounds are utilized in these refrains.

3. Verbs invariably appear in the couplets.

4. More often than not, the refrain ends on a preposition if not on a verb.

To illustrate these points, observe the following stanzas:

Kat gayi tegh talay jab saf-e-dushman aayi

Yak-ba-yak fasl-e-firaq-e-sar-o-gardan aayi

Bigri is tarah larai ke na kuchh ban aayi

Tegh kya aayi ke urti hui nagan aayi

Ghul tha bhago ke yeh hangam theharne ka nahin

Zehar is ka jo charhay ga toh utarne ka nahin

[The enemy ranks were cut down when they came under the sword;

Suddenly, the season of separation between head and neck arrived.

The battle deteriorated in such a way that nothing could be salvaged;

It was not a sword that struck, but a flying serpent that arrived.

The cry went up: Flee, for this is no time to stay!

If its poison takes hold, it will never fade away!]

Keh ke yeh baag phirayi taraf-e-lashkar-e-Shaam

Par gaya khaima-e-namoos-e-Nabi mein kohram

Ran mein ghoray ko uratay hue aaye jo Imam

Roab se fauj ke dil hil gaye kanpay andaam

Sar jhukay un ke jo kamil thay zaban-dani mein

Ur gaye hosh fasihon ke rajaz-khwani mein

[Saying this, he turned his reins toward the army of Syria;

A lamentation arose in the tents of the Prophet's household.

When the Imam arrived, making his horse fly across the battlefield,

The hearts of the army shook with awe, their bodies trembled.

The heads of those perfect in eloquence bowed down;

The senses of the articulate vanished upon hearing his battle-cry.]

Yak-ba-yak tabal baja fauj mein garjay badal

Koh tharraye zameen hil gayi goonja jangal

Phool dhalon ke chamakne lagay talwaron ke phal

Marne walon ko nazar aane lagi shakal-e-ajal

Waan ke chaush barhane lagay dil lashkar ka

Fauj-e-Islam mein naara hua Ya Haidar ka

[Suddenly the war drum sounded, clouds thundered in the army;

Mountains trembled, the earth shook, the forest echoed.

The bosses of the shields began to gleam, as did the blades of the swords;

Those destined to die began to see the face of Death.

There, the heralds began to boost the morale of their army;

While in the army of Islam, the cry of O Haidar! was raised.]

In all three stanzas above, the radif (refrain) is present in every bait (closing couplet) and is open-ended in each instance. There is a nasal resonance in words like nahin (no/not) and mein (in). Now, let us look at the verbs. There is a world of difference in the verbal construction of the first four lines compared to the rest. In the first stanza, the verb is aayi (came), which is repeated in all four lines. The style of the final two lines is entirely different. Both of these lines rest on the auxiliary verb tha (was), and the verb is complete in both. In most of Anis's couplets, whatever the form of the verb in the preceding four lines, it reaches its completion in the couplet, or it changes its form and appears in a finalized state. In the second couplet above, sar jhukay (heads bowed) and urr gaye (flew away), and in the third couplet, barhanay lagay (began to advance) and naara hua (a slogan was raised), are not only stylistically distinct from the verbal atmosphere of the preceding four lines, but they are also entirely complete on a verbal level. This approach brings not only the semantic atmosphere of the stanza to a close but also completes its stylistic unit. This can be better understood by reading the following couplets along with their respective stanzas:

Phoola shafaq se charkh pe jab lala-zar-e-subh

Gulzar-e-shab khizan hua aayi bahar-e-subh

Karnay laga falak zar-e-anjum nisar-e-subh

Sargarm-e-zikr-e-haq huay ta'at guzar-e-subh

Tha chiragh-e-akhzari pe yeh rang aaftab ka

Khilta hai jaisay phool chaman mein gulab ka

[When the twilight bloomed like a tulip garden of morning on the sky,

The garden of night turned to autumn, and the spring of morning arrived.

The sky began to scatter the gold of stars upon the morning,

The devout worshippers became absorbed in the remembrance of God.

The sun cast such a hue upon the green lamp of the sky,

As if a rose were blooming in the garden.]

Chalna woh baad-e-subh ke jhonkon ka dambadam

Murghan-e-bagh ki woh khush-alhaniyan baham

Woh aab-o-taab-e-nehr woh maujon ka pech-o-kham

Sardi hawa mein par na zyada bohat na kam

Kha kha ke os aur bhi sabza hara hua

Tha motiyon se daaman-e-sahra bhara hua

[That continuous blowing of the morning breeze's gusts,

Those melodious songs of the garden's birds together.

That brilliance of the stream, that twisting and turning of the waves,

The chill in the air, yet neither too much nor too little.

Drinking the dew, the greenery became even greener,

The lap of the desert was filled with pearls.]

Ba chashm-e-nam wahan se barhay aap chand gaam

Goya zameen ki sair ko utra mah-e-tamaam

Misl-e-nujoom gird thay Haider ke lala-faam

Shaklein woh noor ki woh tajammul woh ihtisham

Zulfein hawa se hilti theen hathon mein hath thay

Larkay bhi band kholay huay sath sath thay

[With tearful eyes, he advanced a few steps from there,

As if the full moon had descended to stroll upon the earth.

Like stars, the tulip-hued sons of Haider surrounded him,

Those faces of light, that grandeur, that majesty.

Their locks of hair swayed in the wind, hand in hand they walked,

The young boys, with their collars open, walked alongside.]

Thandi hawa mein sabza-e-sahra ki woh lahak

Sharmaye jis se atlas-e-zangari-e-falak

Woh jhoomna darakhton ka phoolon ki woh mahak

Har barg-e-gul pe qatra-e-shabnam ki woh jhalak

Heeray khajal thay gauhar-e-yakta nisar thay

Pattay bhi har shajar ke jawahir-nigar thay

[That swaying of the desert greenery in the cool breeze,

Which would put the rust-colored satin of the sky to shame.

That swaying of the trees, that fragrance of the flowers,

That glimmer of a dewdrop on every rose petal.

Diamonds were put to shame, rare pearls were sacrificed,

Even the leaves of every tree were adorned with jewels.]

Khemay mein ja ke shah ne yeh dekha haram ka haal

Chehray to faq hain aur khulay hain saron ke baal

Zainab ki yeh dua hai ke ae Rabb-e-Zuljalal

Bach jaye is fasad se Khair-un-Nisa ka laal

Bano-e-nek-naam ki kheti hari rahay

Sandal se maang bachon se godi bhari rahay

[Entering the tent, the King saw the condition of the women,

Their faces were pale, and their hair was untied.

Zainab was praying: O Lord of Majesty,

May the beloved son of Khair-un-Nisa be saved from this turmoil.

May the harvest of the virtuous Bano remain green,

May her hair-parting remain filled with sandalwood, and her lap with children.]

A study of these couplets makes it abundantly clear that they end either on an auxiliary verb, a main verb, or a preposition. All these words (whether verbs or prepositions) end in open vowel sounds. In Anis's poetry, couplets without a radif (refrain) are virtually nonexistent. However, there are a few rare instances of closed refrains (ending in consonants). Their proportion is as follows: out of a total of 102 couplets in the first elegy (marsiya), only 5 feature closed refrains. Similarly, out of 194 couplets in the second elegy, only 13 have closed refrains. Thus, out of the 296 couplets (102 + 194) across both elegies, only 18 (5 + 13) contain closed refrains. This is no more than 6 percent of the total couplets. We further verified this average by examining the couplets of the 360 stanzas from twenty different elegies mentioned earlier. The results of that analysis corroborated this very point.

First Volume: 6 out of 90

Second Volume: 5 out of 90

Third Volume: 7 out of 90

Fourth Volume: 5 out of 90

Total: 23 out of 360 (Average: 6 percent)

That is to say, out of 360 couplets, only 23 feature closed refrains. Given this average, it hardly needs further explanation that the phonetic tendency of the closing couplets is the exact opposite of the phonetic tendency of the preceding stanzas. Where the stanzas emphasized closed rhymes and consonants, the couplets abound in open rhymes and vowels. It is a contrast as stark as day and night. When the rhyme scheme shifts after every four lines, it generates a tremendous internal musicality and dramatic effect. If the stanzas possess grandeur, majesty, high resonance, and glory, the couplets embody beauty, sweetness, and delicacy. If the stanzas represent elevation and exposition, the couplets represent completion and conclusion. When the consonants of the stanzas dissolve into the open sounds and vowels of the couplets, it creates a remarkable sense of harmony and aesthetic rapture. This is the merging of the spirit of the qasida (panegyric ode) and the ghazal (lyric poem) alluded to earlier—a fusion that took on a unique stylistic form in Anis's work, introducing the classical concept of eloquence (fasahat) to a new poetic dimension.

Throughout this discussion, we have thus far overlooked Dabir. A question could still be raised against our premise: perhaps the distinguishing characteristic of Anis's elegies that we are emphasizing—and which we consider an essential phonetic component of his eloquence—is simply an inherent feature of the musaddas (six-line stanza) form itself. In other words, the blending of the structural elements of the qasida and the ghazal, and the phonetic collision and resonance of consonants and vowels, might merely be a byproduct of the musaddas format, acting as a common denominator among all poets who write in this form. If that were the case, the credit should go to the structure of the musaddas rather than to Anis's artistry.

Therefore, it is necessary in this context to compare Anis's musaddas with Dabir's musaddas. If these characteristics belong to the musaddas form—meaning their occurrence is latent within it—then they would be common to both poets, and Anis would hold no special distinction in this regard. However, if these traits stem from the poet's innate talent and creative mind, then whatever distinguishes the two poets in this area will clearly emerge. In the absence of the Awadh Akhbar or Naval Kishore volumes, I consulted Shi'ar-e-Dabir compiled by Muhazzab Lakhnavi (which includes six of Dabir's best elegies) and Shair-e-Azam Mirza Salamat Ali Dabir authored by Dr. Akbar Hyderi Kashmiri, which includes Dabir's elegy Zarra Hai Aaftab Dar-e-Bu Turab Ka. With the help of these sources, the analysis of Dabir's elegies yielded the following results:

Total Stanzas | Stanzas with Closed Rhymes

Zarra Hai Aaftab Dar-e-Bu Turab Ka: 81 | 31

Jab Mah Ne Nawafil-e-Shab Ko Ada Kiya: 153 | 69

Kis Sher Ki Aamad Hai Keh Run Kaanp Raha Hai: 132 | 38

Total: 366 | 138 = 38 percent

Random Analysis of Shi'ar-e-Dabir

(Every tenth page, 15 times in total: 31 out of 150 = 21 percent, at five stanzas per page)

Now, from this analysis, a highly interesting and undeniable fact emerges: Dabeer does not possess the same command over the use of rhyme-bound stanzas, or his temperament does not have the same affinity for them, as Anees does. In Anees's work, the use of rhyme-bound stanzas is between 60 to 66 percent—almost two-thirds—whereas Dabeer's range is from 21 to 38 percent, which is roughly one-third. Proportionately, aside from other poetic factors, the fundamental structural and phonetic difference in their art—namely, the aesthetic effect created by the contrast between bound and free rhymes, as well as the specific modulation of changing sounds and phonetic resonance—is correspondingly lesser in Dabeer's work. Although this characteristic is present in Dabeer, it is not on the same comprehensive and elevated scale as it is in Anees. Furthermore, this also reveals the fact that the use of rhyme-bound stanzas is not an indispensable condition of the musaddas form; otherwise, the average would have been more or less the same for both poets.

While this analysis clearly highlights the difference between the art of Anees and Dabeer (at least on a phonetic level), the musaddas form itself requires further examination. Specifically, we must look at poets who have utilized the musaddas outside the tradition of the marsiya (elegy) to see the state of the musaddas in their work and the nature of their bound and free-rhymed stanzas. To find the answer to this question, I deliberately chose Hali and Chakbast, because after Anees, the success with which these two employed the musaddas form is unparalleled. Since Musaddas-e-Hali is a continuous and fairly long poem, the best approach was to conduct a random sampling analysis. The interesting results that emerged are as follows:

(Musaddas-e-Hali, Centenary Edition, compiled by

Dr. Syed Abid Husain, printed in Lahore, 1957)

Page | Rhyme-Bound Stanzas

--- | ---

80 | 2

90 | 1

100 | 2

110 | 0

120 | 2

130 | 1

140 | 0

150 | 2

160 | 0

170 | 1

180 | 1

185 | 3