Sramati...

madhushaala - Part 1

Intro

madhushaala (written 1932-34), a collection of poems penned by the great Hindi poet Harivansh Rai Bachchan (who passed away recently) is acknowledged as a major work in Hindi poetry. Bachchan was apparently an overnight celebrity in 1935, and found himself reciting this work to packed halls.

I first heard madhushaala on cassette ( Rendered by Manna Dey, Music: Jaidev, copyright: RPG) in 1992, as an MBA student (madhushaala seems to have a cult following among college students in India. This cassette contains 20 of the 135 stanzas that make up madhushaala. One can listen to Manna Dey's glorious rendering at MusicIndiaOnline).

When I first heard this recitation, I found myself awash in the undulating tide of feeling contained in these poems. When one is 20, one often wonders what life is. I seemed to have found an answer. I felt like I had scored the find of the century. Even after all this time, I am still besotted by the lyrical beauty of this work. What glorious inspiration pours out of the poet's heart?

One needs to mention two things with respect to madhushaala:

1) Many have told me that this collection of poems is about liquor, and that it glorifies drinking. Nothing could be further from the truth. Wine is only a metaphor. A very good metaphor for life, I might add. After all, as Tennyson wrote in the beginning of his translation of Ulysses,

...I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
life to the lees. All times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
that loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vexed the dim sea. I am become a name;...

"Drinking in" life has been a very powerful metaphor throughout the history of poetry, in every language.

2) Many believe that madhushaala is a translation of the 11th century Persian poet Omar Khayyam's rubaiyat, which is filled with a message of Sufi mysticism, mixed with a heady dose of hedonism - "Enjoy life as it will not last forever". Bachchan did translate the rubaiyat in a work called Khayyam ki madhushaala. But the madhushaala I am talking of is his own work, not a translation. (Incidentally, Bachchan translated from the English translation of rubaiyat by poet-scholar Edward Fitzgerald, and not from the original Persian. Did you know that Bachchan was the first Indian to have received a Ph.D. in English from Cambridge?).

Eventually, I began digging a bit deeper for an English translation, and I found one: translation by Marjorie Boulton & Ram Swaroop Vyas (MB-RSV) translated in 1950, published by Penguin India. Alas, I found this translation remote, and at times lacking in genuine feeling. So, I decided to translate this myself...not out of hubris, but out of love...Naturally, I make no claim that my translation is any better. At times, I take liberty with the form (and write in no defined metre) to convey what I think the poet is really saying...

On to the poetry (numbers after the Hindi original refer to the stanza number in the original work).

Stanza 6:

Translation (MB-RSV):
The drinker leaves his home to find
The House of Wine, but does not know
The way, and fears achievement must
Be but for an instructed few;
And each from whom he asks the way
Has something new and strange to say;
In fact, you reach the House of Wine
By any path you may pursue.

My translation:
The drinker sets out from home
seeking the tavern
naive, uncertain
which path to pursue...
Each points a different way
But let me tell you this:
Choose a path, and keep walking,
You will find your tavern

Stanza 10:

Translation (MB-RSV):
Listen! the gurgling in the Cups,
The sounds of drunken merriment!
The Saki moves to music, shakes
Each tinkling golden ornament.
Now we are near the destination
And hear the merry conversation;
Listen! and now we can perceive
The House of Wine, the drifting scent.

My translation:
joyous commotion
full pitchers of wine, dripping
into tinkling goblets

swerving, swaying,
lithely moving to heady music
the wine-maiden serves

thirsty with desire
the drinkers, in the tavern
redolent with spirit

not far now
a few paces away, awaits
the house of mirth

Stanza 14:

Translation (MB-RSV):
This Wine resembles fire, and yet
Do not refer to it as flame
Nor call the bubbles at the brim
Blisters of frustrated love and shame:
Where your dead memories serve and languish
This Wine will make you drunk with anguish;
And can a man take pleasure thus,
My House of Wine is for that same.

My translation:
This wine flows from the goblet - liquid fire
yet, do not dismiss it as a flame;
This wine foams and fizzes in a thousand bubbles
yet, do not label them blisters on the scalded heart;
This wine has pain for an intoxicant
and departed memories are its wine-maiden;
He who can take joy in his deepest sorrow
is welcome into my tavern

Posted by sramati at August 19, 2003 01:50 AM