The Dancing Beloved

THE DANCING BELOVED
ii SOUTH A,711AN LYRIC FILM

A Study of Pakeezah, Mughl-e-Azam,
and Umra Jaan
Nadya Q. Chishty-Mujahid
With a Foreword by
Shahnaz Ahsanuddin
The Edwin Mellen Press

LewistonQueenstonLampeter
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Chishty-Mujahid, Nadya Q.
The dancing beloved in South Asian lyric film : a study of Pakeezah, Mughl-e-azam,
and Umrao Jaan / Nadya Q. Chishty-Mujahid ; with a foreword by Shahnaz Ahsanuddin.
p. cm.
Includes index.
ISBN-13: 978-0-7734-3711-1
ISBN-10: 0-7734-3711-8
1. Motion picture music--South Asia--History and criticism. 2. Songs, Urdu--South
Asia--History and criticism. I. Pakeezah (Motion picture) II. Mughal-e-azam (Motion
picture) III. Umrao Jaan (Motion picture : 1981) IV. Title.
ML2075.C476 2010
791.43'750954--dc22
2010011963
hors serie.
A CIP catalog record for this book is available from the British Library.
Front cover art: Anarkali by A. R. Chughtai [Abdur Rahman Chughtai]
Copyright 2010 Nadya Q. Chishty-Mujahid
All rights reserved. For information contact
The Edwin Mellen Press The Edwin Mellen Press

Box 450 Box 67
Lewiston, New York Queenston, Ontario
USA 14092-0450 CANADA LOS 1L0
The Edwin Mellen Press, Ltd.

Lampeter, Ceredigion, Wales
UNITED KINGDOM SA48 8LT
Printed in the United States of America

Dedicated to my favourite teacher:
Rosetta Marantz Cohen
Contents
Foreword by Shahnaz Ahsanuddin
Acknowledgements iii
Introduction to the plots of the films Umrao Jaan,

Mughl-e-Azam, and Pakeezah
Translations and Wordings of the Lyrics with Individual

Commentaries: 13
a. Umrao Juan 15
b. Mughl-e-Azam 37
c. Pakeezah 71
Index of Urdu and Poorbi titles 99
Index of English titles 101

Foreword
"Kotha" (dancing house) culture in Lucknow and Delhi conjures up

negative thoughts of corruption, luxury and decadence. What is less well known is
the contribution courtesans made to sub-continental elite culture. Song, music,
poetry, social etiquette and all the graces connected with refinement and elegance
were fostered in this environment.
However in a world dominated by television and film these riches have
receded into history, available only to the determined scholar of Urdu literature.
In the twentieth century, with phenomenal advances in technology and increasing
"Westernisation" this culture has been revisited, as it were, through the medium
of film in India, extended to mass audiences through the agency of "Bollywood."
Nadya Chishty-Mujahid's research in this field provides an insightful look
at three famous twentieth-century films which have depicted cultural and human
aspects of courtesan life. Her research deals with ways in which the films capture,
extend or alter our perceptions vis a vis these traditions.
The film medium reaches out to the masses, even "the great unwashed"
who, unable to read, enjoy the stories, and can empathise with the experience of
joy/suffering that the heroines represent. A film conveys instantly, and in strong
visual terms, the issues that we continue to confrontour "identity" and our
desire to revisit the past which has made us who we are. Post-Colonial audiences,
"Anglophones," and others are caught between these two desires and the films
analysed in this book represent this compulsion.
Increasingly (and sadly), people prefer to see a three-hour film rather than
take the time to plough through a book. This is particularly true of audiences who
might find reading in an indigenous language tedious. The writer has explored
features of these films with a comprehensive critical understanding of how
II
technology can alter the ways in which we perceive narrative, characterisation,

spectacle, etc.
As an "Anglophone" reader I have enjoyed reading the Roman
transliterations and commentariesI certainly feel enlightened about several
aspects of a culture I thought I was familiar with. The credit for this additional
perception and enjoyment goes to this very talented scholar and her painstaking
study.
Shahnaz Ahsanuddin, M.A. (Cantab)
Assistant Headmistress & Co-ordinator Counselling

The Karachi Grammar School
Karachi, Pakistan.
Acknowledgements
As always I would like to begin by thanking the helpful and thoroughly

professional Edwin Mellen Press team that has helped me work through my two
previous books with them, and has been equally encouraging about this one. I
want, therefore, to express my deep gratitude first and foremost towards Dr.
Herbert Richardson, and then Director John Rupnow and Mrs. Patricia Schultz.
Next I would like to thank my parents, Durainow and Chishty Mujahid,
for all their support, help, and encouragement. My mother's love of Urdu lyric
and Indian films alike, combined with her Girton College educational background
made her an ideal mentor for this project. As always, I am also indebted to my
husband Malik Khan for his sincere appreciation of whatever literary talent I
possess. I am honoured by the fact that Mrs, Shahnaz Ahsanuddin took time out
of her busy schedule to write the fine foreword for this text. I am indebted to her,
for my early academic training as well as her kind and genuine support of me that
has ranged over many years. I must acknowledge that my academic training at
Smith College owed much to the teaching ability of Dr. Rosetta Marantz Cohen. I
have dedicated this book to her as a small token of my immense appreciation for
her firm yet gentle influence, which has helped to shape my own teaching
pedagogy over the years. Last but not least, I would like to thank the English and
Comparative Literature department at the American University in Cairo for their
professional encouragement. I am especially grateful to my department chair, Dr.
Ira Dworkin, and my senior mentor, Dr. Feria! Ghazoul.
Nadya Chishty-Mujahid, PhD.

Introduction to the plots of the films Umrao Jaan, ughl-e-Azam,
and Pakeezah
The purpose of this introduction is to provide my reader with a sound and
fairly detailed background to the general plots of three very famous, and classic,
South Asian films: namely, Pakeezah, Umrao Jaan, and Mughl-e-Azam. The first
was directed by Kamal Amrohi, the second by Muzaffar Ali, and the final one by
K. Asif. All three films focus respectively on the figure of a dancing girl who
becomes romantically involved with a well-born hero. Dancing (accompanied by
singing) in public was, and still is, considered a disreputable profession in South
Asia, although it can undeniably serve to bring to the forefront the genuine talents
of a performer. Strictly speaking, in the case of Umrao Jaan and Pakeezah the
respective heroes are both of good families; whereas the heroines belong to the
kotha (the formal name for an establishment that houses dancing girls, and where
they may be visited by customers). In the case of Mughl-e-Azam, however, the
hero is royalthe story of that particular film revolves around the popular legend
of the historical Mughal prince Nooruddin Mohammed Saleem and his beloved,
the famed dancer/kaneez (cOurtier) Anarkali.
Indeed, the individual stories of the respective dancers are each
fundamentally unique in their own distinctive wayshowever, it would hardly be
an exaggeration to posit that the major commonality between the three lies in the
concept of Art. The art of dancing, music, poetry, and, as a result, of romance is
intrinsic to the plots and themes of these various films. In my opinion, nowhere is
this as evident as in the famous soundtracks of each film. This is why I have
chosen to present English translations, accompanied by detailed commentaries of
the most central and significant lyrics of these three films, so that my Anglophone
readers will be better able to appreciate the complexly lovely, myriad aspects of
Eastern courtesan-ship as viewed through the diverse lenses of some of the sub-
continent's most acclaimed cinematic productions.
4
The original inspiration behind these translations stemmed from my

sincere admiration and appreciation of an English translation of Mirza
Mohammed Hadi Ruswa's famous novel Umrao Jan Ada (Hyderabad: Disha
Press, 1993). Written in the early 1900s. Ruswa's novel is a liberally fictionalized
account of a famous Lucknow courtesan's life and passions. I highly recommend
this Urdu to English translation which has been done by Khushwant Singh and
M.A.Husaini. The translators have created a very clear and readable version
without compromising on either the novel's plot or content. On reading this
version, I decided that a carefully annotated translation of the major lyrics of the
Indian film Umrao Jaan (starring the actress Rekha) might prove to be of interest
to readers of the translation and film-lovers alike. Although there are numerous
South Asian films (such as Zindagi Ya Toofan; trans. "Life or a Storm") that focus
on dancing-girls, the three that I have chosen for the purpose of this particular text
work especially well together when it comes to creating a general composite
image of the allure and plight of the South Asian dancing beloved in history,
literature, art, and evenif one may dare to addactuality. As a general, modern
text that aptly describes the very real problems and conditions faced by Pakistani
dancing-girls, I recommend Louise Brown's The Dancing Girl's of Lahore:
Selling Love and Saving Dreams in Pakistan's Ancient Pleasure District (Fourth
Estate, 2005). Centering on Pakistan's Heera Mandi (Diamond Market) the book
takes a hard, clear look at the profession devoid of its superficial trappings of
glamour.
I will now delineate the plots of the three films whose lyrics I examine in
this text. The plot of Umrao Jaan, though it becomes quite convoluted towards
the latter portion of the film, may be simplified as follows. In nineteenth-century
India, a very young girl from the town of Faizabad, Ameeran, barely out of
childhood, is kidnapped by bandits. As fate would have it she is then sold to the
Madam (female head) of a Lucknow kotha. Another young girl, named Ramday,
5
who is kidnapped along with Ameeran, is sold to a wealthy family. At this point I
must needs clarify that although a fair amount of illicit sexual activity has been,
and continues to be, associated with South Asian kothas, they are generally far
more famous for their musical, dance, and poetic performances. A kotha is not
precisely a brothel, although the more disreputable ones certainly function as
such. In especially refined kothassuch as the one to which Ameeran is sold
the virtue of the girls/performers is quite jealously guarded, unless a patron
desiring sex is especially influential, wealthy, or both.
Given that the milieu in which Ameeran finds herself is none other than
Lucicnow (the seat of fine and sophisticated Urdu in the sub-continent) she grows
up to become quite a notable poetess as well as an alluring dancer. Renamed
"Umrao" by the Madam, she chooses "Ada" as her pseudonym (takhallus). Her
charms, talent, and beauty attract the attentions of a well-born Nawab (a
descendant of minor royalty) who begins to visit her quite frequently. The Nawab
is played by the actor Farooq Sheikh. Umrao falls in love with him, and though
the feeling is undoubtedly mutual, both are deeply conscious of the fact that
marriage to each other is entirely out of the question for them. The obvious reason
for this is the vast disparity between their background and social status. True love
causes Umrao to become increasingly dissatisfied with her position in life. Much
to her horror and frustration, as she begins to weary of the life of a courtesan, the
kotha's procurer, Gohar Mirza, proclaims to public authorities that she has
entered into a marital agreement with him, although in reality she has done no
such thing. One of the themes for which Untrao Jaan is particularly memorable is
that of the heroine's powerlessness in the face of unsavoury individuals and their
self-serving machinations. Umrao's attempts to leave the vicious circle of kotha-
life results in her encountering a lady of quality who asks her to sing at her son's
birthday. In a strange twist of the plot, not only does the lady turn out to be the
Nawab's wife, she is also the selfsame young girl who was captured and sold
6
alongside Ameeran. Umrao obliges her, and sings wistfully for the Nawab and his
wife. The final portion of her adventures takes Umrao back to her hometown of
Faizabad. Here, although her mother, in a perfect demonstration of unconditional
love, is willing to welcome her back into the fold of the family, she is tragically
rejected by her own brother. Cruelly labeling her a ienvaif ("whore"), he
pompously and firmly states that she has no place among respectable people,
given how low she has fallen in life. Resigned to the only life and profession that
she now believes she is suited to, Umrao returns, albeit reluctantly, to her art and
writing.
I will now proceed to sketch the outline of the plot of Mughl-e-Azam with
one especially strong word of caution for my readers. Just as considerable
adaptive liberty has been taken with the cinematic story of Umrao Jaan, so too has
a great deal of poetic license been taken for K.AsiPs screen modulation of the
legend of Anarkali. As mentioned earlier, the novel Umrao Jan Ada is loosely
based on the story of a real courtesan; Ruswa's writing being packaged as
historical fiction in order to enhance the enjoyment and appreciation of the reader.
Similarly, in creating a film version that focuses primarily on the historical figure
of the great Mughal emperor, Jalaluddin Mohammed Akbar, K.Asif has
(necessarily) mixed fact with a liberal helping of fiction in order to maximize the
viewer's pleasure. The story of Nooruddin Mohammed Saleem (later Emperor
Jahangir, and husband of the famous Noorjehan) and Anarkali is itself a famous
legend. There is no sound historical evidence that a young court dancer named
Nadira (glamorously renamed "Anarkali" or "pomegranate blossom") ever
captured the heart of Akbar's heir apparent, although like all strong legends there
may be a small kernel of truth behind the story. However, since a number of
works of prose, poetry, drama, film, and art have sprung up around this tale, it has
become a major cultural motif for South Asia. Eastern culture in general is
crammed with stories, invariably tragic, of lovers that have acquired a world-
7
renowned status over time. These include couples such as Layla and Majnoon,
and, on a lesser known, but no less charming level. Sohni and Mahiwaal. Sassi
and Punnu, and Heer and Ranjha, among others. South Asia has come to prize the
legend of Anarkali primarily since its value stems from its being romantic and
glamorous, with just enough history thrown in to make it tantalizingly intriguing.
Indian heartthrob Dilip Kumar was cast as Saleem opposite the lovely
Madhubala; however, one must also note that the illustrious patriarch of the
famous Kapoor family of actorsPrithviraaj Kapoorgives an absolutely stellar
performance as the indomitable and majestic Akbar.
At the commencement of K.Asif's film, the emperor returns from a
pilgrimage to the famous shrine of Sufi saint Saleem Chishty, where he allegedly
went barefoot (a sign of deep humility) in order to pray for a son. His prayers are
granted, and he joyously receives the news that Empress Jodha Bai has given birth
to a baby boy. Over the early years of the child's life, Akbar's joy turns to
disappointment, for the young Prince Saleem becomes so wayward and irreverent
that his father is forced to send him away from court. The motive for this is
ostensibly to set the boy free from the evils inherent in leading a grossly
pampered lifestyle. When Saleem returns, as a young man, he is not only
reformed, but cultured, handsome, and valiant. Nadira, a Muslim girl at court, of
fairly respectable background catches his eye. The couple first meets when she
poses as a statue that Akbar has commissioned the court sculptor to make.
Slightly behind schedule, the sculptor implores Nadira to pretend to be the statue
when Prince Saleem is supposed to unveil it. Much to the sculptor's horror,
Saleem chooses to shoot an arrow at the statue in order to release the veil that
conceals it. Much to her credit. Nadira does not flinch or move a muscle as this
happensthereby demonstrating great, almost foolhardy, courage. When Saleem
realizes that the "statue" is a real person, he is rather intrigued. Nadira's
considerable talents as a dancer and singer impress not only the prince, but also
8
his parents! Renamed by Akbar, and given the more glamorous appellation of
"Anarkali" the dancer's star finds itself in the ascendant.
Saleem and Anarkali begin to meet clandestinely, and, as in the case of
Umrao and the Nawab, the audience realizes that the romance is doomed. The
reasons for this are twofold. Akbar, though quite secular-minded would never
have permitted his Muslim son and heir to set up a maitresse-en-titre (titled royal
mistress) figure at court, and it is highly unlikely that either Nadira or her family
would have readily agreed to this type of unorthodox arrangement. Secondly, it
was a foregone conclusion that Saleem's marriageas long as it lay under the
will and jurisdiction of the emperorwould necessarily have had to be made with
major dynastic and political factors in mind. Nowhere in the three films under
discussion does love ultimately have to bow to the dictates of duty as
unquestioningly as in the story of the prince and Anarkali. The couple's secret
love for one another is revealed to the emperor by another female courtier Bahaar
(also referred to in versions of the legend as Dilaraam) who herself has barely
concealed aspirations to become Saleem's royal consort.
Needless to say, the emperor is absolutely furious at what he perceives to
be Saleem's folly and Anarkali's temerity. He promptly has Anarkali cast into the
palace dungeons. Much to Empress Jodha Bai's genuine distress, an equally
furious Saleem decides to wage war against his father. The dramatic trigger for
Saleem's actions is that his father forbids him to have anything more to do with a
mere kaneezservant girl of the court. Eventually, the war being inconclusive,
Akbar works out a rather strange agreement with Anarkali. She is to be
legitimately married to the prince, and even be crowned princess, but after a
single night together she is to be taken away to her execution. Saleem knows
nothing of this plan, and Anarkali obediently drugs him into a deep slumber on
their wedding night, before leaving his presence forever. At the eleventh hour,
Anarkali's life is saved by her mother, who reminds the emperor that many years
9
ago he had agreed to grant the mother any boon whatsoever, since she had been
the first courtier to inform him of Saleem's birth. Famous for his justice (both in
the film, as well as historically) Jalaluddin Mohammed Akbar permits the dancer
to go free; but she is, tragically, still separated forever from her beloved Saleem.
Many versions of the legend claim that a secret underground tunnel connecting
Delhi to Lahore was used to convey the grieving Anarkali to the latter city, where
she lived out the remnant of her days in solitude. Other grimmer versions claim
that she was walled up alive by Akbar's men, and died of the resultant
suffocation. Either way, her story ends in tragedy, but, as the actress Madhubala
sings before the prince and Bahaar, famous lovers endure through history. The
cover of this text bears artist A. R. Chughtai's rendition of Anarkali's portraita
small tribute to a great legendary figure.
Ironically, it is the alternately happy, sometimes wretched heroine of
Pakeezah, Sahibjaan, who is destined to make an ultimately happy marriage with
her beloved in the filmalso named Saleem. The reason I find this particularly
ironic is because, of all three of these heroines, it is Sahibjaan who comes the
closest to being identified as a tawaif (prostitute), although strictly speaking, she
is primarily a dancing girl of a marketplace kotha. Her mother, Nargis (played by
the famous tragedy queen Meena Kumari, who also stars as Sahibjaan) leaves her
profession and marries Shahabuddin, a gentleman of a good, decent family.
Horrified that his younger brother has married a "kothay-wah," the patriarch of
the family forcefully rejects Nargis when Shahabuddin brings her home. Shamed
and humiliatedtragically through no real fault of her own Nargis flees to a
graveyard. She survives here for only ten months, just long enough to give birth to
a baby girl, who is legitimately Shahbuddin's daughter. Providentially, the child is
rescued from the graveyard by Nargis' sister, the strong-minded and outspoken
Nawabjaan, although Nawabjaan is too late to save her sister who has died of
grief. The aunt, a strict but good guardian, decides to raise the child at the koala
10
where her mother used to perform, since Nawabjaan knows no other home. The
girl's obvious talents lead to her becoming an accomplished performerin the
earlier sequences the talented Kumari performed the dances herself, although her
failing health forced her to use a double for the last few sequences of the film.
Although Nargis had, prior to dying, written Shahabuddin a letter
informing him that he had a child, the letter goes astray, reaching him only after
seventeen years. He tries to visit the kotha and claim Sahibjaan for his own, but
finds that she and her aunt have left the town by means of train. At this juncture in
the plot, the hero, a forester named Saleem (played by the film's director Kamal
Amrohi) mistakenly wanders into Sahibjaan's compartment. Struck by her lovely
feet, he quaintly leaves a note of admiration between her toes, telling her not to
place her lovely feet on the ground since they may get soiled. The dramatic irony
of the moment is not lost on anyone in the audience, since we are aware that
Sahibjaan is a dancer, although Saleem does not yet know this.
Sahibjaan, under the watchful eye of her aunt, continues to perform at a
venue called the Pink Palace that belongs to an acquaintance of theirs, a former
courtesan. In the surrounding countryside, Sahibjaan meets Saleem. They fall in
love and he plans to marry her honourably, in spite of the lowliness of her
profession. Intensely ashamed of her background, however, Sahibjaan flees from
the marriage ceremony. A disappointed Saleem decides to marry someone else,
and invites his former beloved to dance at his wedding. She obliges, and during
her final performance in the film it is dramatically revealed than Saleem is none
other than Shahabuddin's nephew. Thus, the hero and heroine turn out to be first
cousins. Their marriage is approved by key members of both families, and the
ending, after many trials and tribulations, turns out to be a fairly happy one.
In conclusion, I will provide some brief information to enlighten my
readers about the main individuals to whom the composing and singing of the
lyrics may be attributed. Umrao Jaan was released in 1981; its lyrics were written
11
by Akhlaq Mohammed Khan, and Umrao's songs were sung by Asha Bhosle.
Talat Aziz sang the Nawab's songwhich is the only lyric sung solely by a male
in the specific collection of this text. Released in 1960, Alughl-e-Azam contains a
large number of lyrics (more than the other two musicals) that have been
attributed to the composer, Shakeel Badayuni. All those included in this text were
primarily sung by the world-famous sister of Asha Bhosle, Lata Mangeshkar. The
latter has been correctly termed the Empress of Indian music. Lata also sang the
main lyrics of Pakeezah (which was released in 1972). Several individuals
contributed to the compilation of the lyrics of Amrohi's film, notably Arnrohi
himself, as well as Majrooh Sultanpuri, Kaif Bhopali, and the talented Kaifi
Azmi.
13
Translations and Wordings of the Lyrics with Individual

Commentaries
15
Umrao farm
As compared to Alughl-e-Azam, and Pakeezah, the most noticeable feature

of the major lyrics of Umrao Joan is that every single one of them takes the form
of a ghazal. The most accurate parallel that may be drawn between Western
poetry and the Eastern ghazal involves viewing the latter as a type of Eastern
sonnet. Although there is no octave/sestet structure to the ghazal, its form (which
takes the shape of a set of interrelated romantic couplets) lends itself to an
exploration of love and romance in a manner similar to the sonnet. Often, though
by no means always, ghazal convention dictates that the last couplet contains the
assumed name of the poet. Since Umrao Joan is a film and not strictly a piece of
literature this latter convention has been somewhat relaxed, except in the case of
Lyric 4, where Ada does indeed introduce her pseudonym (takhallus) in the final
couplet.
All of Umrao Joan 's ghazals focus on love of various types: that of lover
for beloved, that of courtesan for customer, or that of traveler for home. There
exists a rather unique symmetry to the pattern into which the ghazals
spontaneously fall. The first two are much more obviously joyous than the last
two. The "dividing line" between the ghazals that focus on enticement and
attraction, and those that dwell on the concepts of loneliness and homelessness is
provided by the Nawab's ghazal (Lyric 3). Thus the poetry follows a thematic
trajectory that rises to the point where the Nawab sings soulfully of his passion for
Umrao, and subsequently declines into a melancholy culmination reflected by the
last couple of lyrics.
16
Lyric 1: Dil cheez kya hai, aap merijaan leejiye
Dil cheez kya hai, aap meri jaan leejiye

Bas aik baar mera kaha maan leejiye
is anjuman main aap ko, aana hai baar baar

Deewaar o dar ko ghaur say pehchaan leejiye (repeat)
Maana kay doston ko nahin dosti ka paas

Laikin yeh kya kay ghair ka ahsaan leejiye (repeat)
Kahiye to aasmaan ko zamin par utaar laa-ain

Mushkil nahin hai kuch bhi agar thaan leejiye (repeat)
Dil cheez kya hai, aap meri jaan leejiye

Bas aik baar mera kaha maan leejiye (repeat)
17
Translation of Lyric 1: My heart is but a trifle, I would willingly give you my

life
My heart is but a trifle, I would willingly give you my life

Just acquiesce to doing what I ask of you, just once
This is a hall full of stars where you will be returning time and time again
So familiarize yourself carefully with its walls and doorways
I appreciate that one's "friends" are often negligent and careless about friendship
Even so, why should one accept favours from those who are untried and unknown
If you request, I will bring the sky down to the earth

For no task is difficult if one sets one's heart and mind to it
My heart is but a trifle, I would willingly give you my life

Just acquiesce to doing what I ask of you, just once, just once
18
Commentary on Lyric 1:
This is the lyric that notably introduces Umrao talentwhich

includes her highly-trained abilities at singing and dancing, as well as her
consummate skill as a poetess. The audience is thereby made aware of what a
financial and social asset her performance can be to the extensive repertoire of
courtesanly delights offered by the Madam who adopted and trained the heroine.
Also in the audience, along with the likes of illustrious customers such as the
Nawab, are other wealthy affluent men. I must emphasize that I use the term
"illustrious" for the Nawab quite deliberately. The reason for this being that
although the word anjuman in Umrao's first ghazal performance quite literally
means a gathering of stars in this case, or a type of constellation, what is also
clearly implied here is that in this elegant, and ironically noble, gathering, a
number of metaphorically glittering personages are present. These lend a grace
and sophistication to the environment that forms the crux of symbiotic
courtesanship.
The actress Rekhaclassically beautiful in an Indian senseperformed
this dance herself, and she brings a glamorous stage presence to the screen,
although her dancing skills are different from those of the tragedy queen, Meena
Kumari. Nevertheless, Rekha's sensitive acting and empathetic involvement in
the titular role of the film are commendable. Moreover, her ability to carry the
costumes of the role with grace and deceptive ease make her an ideal choice
insofar as the visual dynamics of Umrao's image are concerned. She performs
"Dil Cheez Kya Hai" and the act that follows later in the film, "In Aankhon Ki
Mastee" wearing a traditional peshwaz. In the former scene the peshwaz is cream-
coloured, in the latter it is redsymbolically displaying the intensification of
passion within the storyline of the film. The peshwaz consists of a fitted bodice,
generally possessing long sleeves, attached to a full-gathered, flared skirt. Often
19
studded with sequins, or embroidered with gold thread (historically speaking,

actual gold, although modern prices make this virtually impossible) the skirt
glimmers and glitters as the dancer swivels. The peshwaz's skirt falls at calf-
length, between the knee and the ankle, and the dress is invariably worn with a
pair of fitted, streamlined trousers (a tight pyjama). These enable the dancer to
spin and twirl rapidly and effectively, without hindering her movements, or
revealing her legs (this would be socially inappropriate). The refined elegance of
the establishment for which Umrao worked, dictated that the dancing girls would
live hectically active, but relatively protected, livesthe exposure of female skin
during a performance would have been considered crass, not enticing. This rule of
modesty in terms of clothing standards persists in the other two films discussed in
this text.
The ghazal Umrao sings here is a rather seductive one. Naturally, given
that she is a courtesan, this may seem like a rather redundant comment. However,
I must needs clarify that the points of focus of this ghazal and the one that follows
are distinctly different, although both are performed with the specific aim of
attracting the Nawab; and indeed, both succeed admirably in capturing and
holding his attention. In this ghazal, the focal thematic point is the concept of love
itself. The lyric that follows concerns itself almost exclusively with Umrao's
personal charms and attractive features. Flattery and enticement leading to the
nourishment of her customers' aesthetic spirit and emotional needs are the staple
foods that a well-trained courtesan like Umrao presents before the affluent
members of her audience. Thus, her extravagant promises and emotionally
charged declarations of love would have been highly appreciated by customers
such as the Nawab. Yet extravagant though her gestures and words may be, it
goes without saying that the performance gains greater credence and the ambience
gains more authenticity due to the fact that the ghazal is one composed by Umrao
herself.
20
Lyric 2: In aankhon ki mastee kay
In aankhon ki mastee kay, mastaanay hazaron hain

In aankhon say waabasta, afsanay hazaron hain
Ik turn hee nahin tanha, ulfat main meri ruswa

Is she hr main turn jaisay, deewanay hazaron hain
lk sirf hum hee main ko, aankhon say pilatay hain

Kehnay ko to dunya main, maikhanay hazaron hain
Is sham-e-farozan ko aandhi say daratay ho

Is sham-e-farozan kay, parvaney hazaron hain
21
Translation of Lyric 2: The enticement of these eyes
Thousands are intoxicated by the enticing passion of these beautiful eyes

Which are the subject of countless legends and fantasies
By no means are you the only one smitten by love for me and the object of
scandals
This city contains thousands who, like you, are deliriously in love
Only I offer the wine of passion by means of my mesmeric glances

You know, that there are thousands of ordinary drinking-houses in the world
Tempestuous gales cannot threaten this luminous candle

Which draws thousands of love-struck moths who are willing to die near its flame
22
As opposed to the theme of active seduction that runs throughout the

previous ghazal, this particular lyric contains a strong and unmistakable note of
triumph. It is as if Umrao is deliberately emphasizing for the benefit of the Nawab
that he has made an excellent choice of courtesan in preferring her over others
since her beauty and feminine charm make her eminently desirable. This note of
triumph is present from the very first couplet onwards; it is evident that the hero,
among many others, is attracted to Umrao's eyes. I made note, in the commentary
to the first lyric, that it was socially inappropriate for courtesan dancers to display
their flesh to customers. Thus the main objects of focus for the male gaze become
features such as hypnotic dark eyes, and glossy dark hair. Regarding these
attributes, Rekha proved to be a perfect choice to play Umrao; in her hey-day the
actress was known for her shiny black tresses and large hypnotic eyes.
The Western reader who is unfamiliar with ghazal themes and conventions
may be slightly puzzled by the numerous references to wine and intoxication that
appear in this, as well as other Eastern lyrics. I must clarify that although wine is
mentioned in this lyric, and even though a number of South-Asian poets
regardless of whether they were Muslim or notrelied on alcohol to enhance and
assist their poetic talents, the actual suggestion in this particular piece of poetry
has nothing to do with alcohol per se. Rather, the suggestion is that Umrao does
not need to serve the Nawab any wine; all that is required in order for him to
become "intoxicated" is the allure of her personal enchantments, of which her
eyes are the most powerfully seductive. This aspect of the lyric, well dramatized
by the gestures related to the dance itself, ties in with the concept of "nourishing
the customer's aesthetic spirit" to which I referred in the previous commentary.
Moreover, the Nawab's appreciative expression, as well as the smiles and
approval of other members of the audience such as Bismillah Jaan, testifies to
23
Umrao's ability to "offer the wine of passion by means of [her] mesmeric

glances."
The metaphor of a lover and admirer, or countless admirers in this case,
being attracted like a moth to aflame was very prevalent in Urdu lyric during the
time the historic Umrao Jaan was writing. Indeed, the figurative language still
prevails in certain lyrics and poems today. However, I must also emphasize that
the fact that Umrao's relationship with the Nawab is not really a viable one does
not, in and of itself, indicate that the lovers are embroiled in a type of all-
consuming, and self-destructive Layla-Majnoon type of passion. That their
association (i.e that of Umrao and the Nawab) is ultimately ruthlessly ruled by
rigid societal and class constraints is a fact that is established and known prior to
the commencement of their relationship. This foundation to the association,
necessarily informed by reality/actuality, helps to explain why the Nawab's
feelings for Umrao are far more wistful and bittersweet than Majnoon's
tempestuous desires. This point is further explored in the following ghazal, sung
by the Nawab himself.
24
Lyric 3: Zindagi jab bhi ten bazm main
Zindagi jab bhi teri bazm main laati hai humain

Yeh zarneen chand say behtar nazar aati hai hamain
Surq phoolon say mehek uthteen hain dil kee rahain

Din dhaley yoon teri aawaz bulatee hai humain
Yaad teri dasta/ kabhi sargoshi say

Raat kay pichlay pehr roz jagatee hain hurnain
Har mulaqaat ha anjaam judaee kyoon hai

Ab to har vaqt yehee boat satatee hai humain
25
Translation of Lyric 3: Whenever life entices me towards your orbit
Whenever life entices me towards the orbit of your presence

This earth appears more beautiful than the moon
The winding pathways of my heart are imbued with the fragrance that arises from
deep red blooms
As dusk descends, your voice appears to call out to me
Memories of you sometimes knock at the door of my heart, at other times whisper
gently
And wake me every night during the darkest hours
Oh why does every meeting have to end with us parting

It is this thought that now disturbs my peace every moment of the day
26
This is the only lyric in this entire text that has been performed/sung
entirely by a male figure. It represents the point in the film Umrao Jaan where the
audience is made aware of the depth and sincerity of the Nawab's feelings for his
accomplished courtesan. Insofar as the storyline of the film is concerned, it marks
a pivotal point whereby the hero, while declaring his love for the heroine,
simultaneously acknowledges the necessarily bittersweet nature of their passion.
Due to the dictates of reality and the historical aura of the film, the story of
Umrao Jaan is too removed from a classic love-legend such as that of Layla-
Majnoon, Shirin-Farhad, Sohni-Mahiwaal etc, where passion overrides all norms
of society. Moreover, unlike great Western tragedies such as Romeo and Juliet,
Umrao and the Nawab are destined to love in a restricted and restrained manner
from the very commencement of their ill-fated relationship. His final sentiments
in this ghazal "why does every meeting have to end with us parting" are strikingly
similar in translated wording to Juliet's "parting is such sweet sorrow"perhaps
because parting for all types of couples in love is intrinsically sorrowful.
However, unlike the case of Romeo and Juliet, the legitimacy of marriage is
firmly denied to Umrao Jaan. In the acclaimed film, about the Pakistani tawaif
(prostitutes) of the Punjab's famous Heera Mandi district, titled "Dancing Girls of
Lahore" the girls who are interviewed mention that even in the rare cases that they
become the second wives (official "kept women") of their beloveds, the
relationship remains clandestine and ultimately unfulfilling. It is unlikely that the
Nawab would have entered into this type of "legal" but constrained agreement
with Umrao, since the main point of the film is the depth and passion that the hero
and heroine experience, which would inevitably have been snuffed out by a more
practical arrangementacceptable to the Nawab's family.
27
The Nawab's lyrics are quite conventional from the point of view of
ghazal tradition, in that Umrao is implicitly objectified as a sun-like figure orbited
by the restless moon to which he refers in the first couplet. One must clarify,
however, that unlike Western poetic conceit where the sun is almost invariably a
masculine figure (often associated with mythological figures like Apollo, metals
such as gold, or royalty such as Louis XIV) and the moon is inevitably feminine,
the gendering of heavenly bodies is by no means quite so stringent in Eastern
ghazal conventions. The areas where this type of gendering is most clearly
evident is in socio-mystical sectors such as Vedic astrology which invariably
associates the Sun (masculine "planet") with rubies and gold, and the Moon
(feminine "planet") with pearls and silver.
The Nawab's lovely reference to red flowers could loosely be associated
with the poppy or the hibiscus; the former thrives in cooler areas of the sub-
continent, the latter is indigenous to the warmer climes of the area. However, this
specific reference is best understood, perhaps, by noting that the allusion may
very well be intended to conjure up images of the famous and widespread desi
gzdaab (native rose) of India and Pakistan, This deep crimson, strong-scented
species has many uses ranging from the manufacture of "attar of roses" to the
decoration of weddings, and the creation of festive garlands. Historically and
culturally speaking, since its links to wedding rituals are so strong, the Nawab's
reference may correctly be considered sweet, but sadly ironic.
28
Lyric 4: Justajoo jis ki thi
Justajoojis ki thi, us ko to na payaa hum nain

Is bahanay say magar dekh lee, dunya hum nay
Tujh ko ruswa na kiya, khud bhi pashaymaan na huay

Ishq ki rasm ko is tarha nibhaya hum nain
Kab mike thi, kahan bichree thi, humain yaad nahin

Zindagi, tujh ko to bas khwaab main dekha hum nain
Ai Ada, aur suna-ay bhi to kya haal apna

Umr ka lamba safar tei kya tanhaa hum nay
29
Translation of Lyric 4: That for which I was searching
I was unable to obtain that for which I was constantly searching

However, this quest provided me with an excuse to journey and see the world
I did not permit that you should become an object of love's cruel slander, thereby
sparing myself from remorse and guilt
In this manner I kept faith with love's challenging traditions
Oh Life: when did we meet, when did we part, it escapes my memory

I beheld you, Life, as if you were but a fleeting, elusive dream
Oh Ada: what else can she tell her listener. what is left to disclose?
The long journey of her life was carried out in utter solitude
30
As the reader may have noted, the Nawab's ghazal, sung to Umrao,
creates the dividing line between the romantic and seductive lyrics of the earlier
portion of the film, and the latter, much more melancholy ones. The film
deliberately leaves unanswered the question of whether the Nawab and Umrao
sexually consummate their relationship. This is part of the aura of mystery with
which the Indian courtesan would often surround herself, extended towards the
action and dynamics of the film itself. In light of this decline of mood, the themes
of "Justajoo"a search for perfect relationships in a sea of loneliness, and
unsatisfied desireare self-explanatory.
At the point when the Nawab confesses his feelings for Umrao, prior to
this ghazal, to both her as well as the audience, the situation's irony is clarified by
Umrao's needing to appreciate the cold reality of the fact that the Nawab will
never be able to have a socially legitimate relationship with her. His personal
enjoyment of her charms and beauty can strictly exist only in two realmsthe
public one of the dance mehfil, and the private, clandestine sphere; the latter may
denote a temporary thrill and headiness to their romance but is unsanctioned by
law and social norms alike.
By a strange quirk of fate, the Nawab's wife is the same child who was
sold alongside Umrao. The film makes it specific that she carries more weight in
terms of being a commodity than Umrao, primarily because her complexion is
fairer. The reasons for this are plausible in the light of history, since the British
Raj was flourishing during the time period depicted in both the novel and film.
Although the audience is given no details about where Ramday (Umrao's young
companion) was raised, it appears probable that she was adopted by a wealthy
family. Certainly she would not have been bought by a kotha (establishment for
dancing girls) since her social status would then have been decidedly inferior.
31
However, by a similar quirk of fate, the Nawab's wife's restricted and refined
upbringing has obviously been such that she can neither dance, nor sing, nor
compose poetry. Thus it is unlikely that the Nawab harbours any feeling stronger
than courteous and respectful affection for his wife. When Urnrao appears before
both of them for the purpose of performance, it seems clear that the Nawab's
wife's main purpose in that scene (as indeed, in her life) is merely to please and
obey her husband.
The music of "Justajoo" is written in Raag Bhairavia classical Indian
raag (musical pattern) that is traditionally played in the early hours of the
morning, just as the sun begins to rise. Its opposite is Raag Aiman, that is played
just prior to sunset. It is largely the use of Raag Bhairavi that is responsible for
making the melancholy aspect of the poetry of "Justajoo" consonant with the
mellow and subdued tones of the raag. One may note that this is the only ghazal
of the four major ones that she sings where Umrao adds her pseudonym "Ada" in
the last couplet. The first line of the second couplet contains the word "Ruswa"
an implicit reference to the takhallus of Mirza Mohammed Hadi himself.
32
Lyric 5: Yeh kya jagay hai doston
Yeh kya jagay hai doston, yeh kaun sa dayaar hai

Had-e-nigah tak jahan, ghubar hee ghubar hai
Yeh kis maqaam par hayaat mujh ko lay kay aa gaee

Na bas khushee pay hai jahan, na gham pay ikhtiyaar hai
Tamaam umr ka hisaab maangtee hai zindagi

Yeh mera dil kahay to kya, yeh khud say sharmsaar hai
Bula raha hai kaun rnujh ko chilmanon' kay us taraf

Mairay liyay bpi kya koee udaas bayqaraar hai
Chilmanon: curtains made of dried reeds.

33
Translation of Lyric 5: Friends, what is this place
Friends, what is this place, what portal is this?

As far as the eye can see, one can only behold clouds of dust
To what landmark have I finally been led to by life?

One where I have neither control over my joy, nor check on my tears
Life demands accountability for each and every moment of my entire existence
But what can my heart possibly say, when it is so overcome by shame
Who is calling out to me from the other side of those curtains made of dried and
scented reeds?
Oh...could there possibly be a sad and lonely being there who is longing to meet
me?
34
The poignant, almost heart-rending, final lyric of this film is a song of

mourning, whereby Umrao primarily mournsnot her lost relationship with the
Nawab but her lost home. By means of a complicated set of plot machinations,
she finds herself in Faizabad, the city from which she was abducted many years
ago. While there, she approaches her old home, and encounters both her mother,
and younger brother. There are touching scenes at the beginning of the film that
show her playing with her brother as a child, for whom she has deep affection and
tenderness. Her mother, demonstrating the perfectly unconditional love of a
parent, is ready to acknowledge her as a member of the family in spite of the
societal disgraces of her past. Tragically, however, her sanctimonious and self-
righteous brother comes between Umrao and their mother. In a scene where the
force of masculine, societal prejudice appears strongest in the film, Umrao's
brother says that she will forever be denied the respectability of an association
with the family, since she belongs to a low and base profession. Blood may he
thicker than water, but it is no match for the deluge of patriarchal scorn and
rejection with which Umrao is greeted on returning to her long-lost home.
Unlike the previous ghazal, which was more a metaphor for Umrao's
restless lonely life, this particular lyric revolves around the concept of a secure
childhood resting-place. The reason for this is that this ghazal is grounded in
actuality and a strong sense of geographical anchorage. The contrast between
Umrao and her surroundings is paralleled by the contrast between the "fixed" and
respectable nature of her home, and her personal insecurities and sense of shame
that have a great deal to do with the painful ambiguity of her adult life and
changed circumstances. That she is deeply aware of her awkward position as a
lady of the kotha is evident from the extreme guilt that is implicit in this lyric, and
is actualized by her sentiments of shame. This ghazal encapsulates one of the
35
most poignant and ironic moments in the film. This irony stems from the point
that although she is geographically speaking, at "home," in this scene, the societal
(and hence psychological) distance between Umrao and her family creates a gulf
of unbridgeable proportions. These immense and insurmountable obstacles result
from the tragic realities inherent in the fact that, in spite of all her beauty and
undeniable talent, Umrao having being rejected and spurned by her blood family
will now always lack respectability, social acceptance, and (what matters to her
the most) a home. Umrao Jaan Ada is brutally honest about clarifying that a roof
over one's head does not connote domestic security, and that talent is no
substitute for love.
37
Mughl-e-Azara
Although Anarkali's final resting place, i.e. her tomb, is apparently to be

found in the National Archives in Lahore, Pakistan, this "fact" is at best yet
another historically unsubstantiated facet of the charming legend. However, the
inscription on the tomb merits being quoted and translated in full, since it
provides an ideal introductory framework in which to perceive the diverse lyrics
of K. Asif's magnificent opus Mughl-e-Azam. The poetry on the tomb is as
follows:
Ay baad-e-saba, aahistah chat

Yahan soee hai Anarkali
Lakhon jalway leeay Saleem kay
Yahan khoee huee hai Anarkali.
Translation:
0, morning breeze, blow softly
Here Anarkali lies in deep sleep
With thousands of images of Saleem in her mind
Here Anarkali is lost to the world.
Thus, legend has it that the breeze blows gently so as not to disturb the peaceful
Anarkali's dreams of Saleem even in her final resting-place.
38
Lyric 6: Mohay panghat pay Nandlal2 (This lyric is in the Poorbi dialect)
Mohay panghat pay Nandlal cherh gayo ray

Moree najuk kalayya maror gayo ray
(Refrain: Mohay panghat etc.)
Kankari mohay marl, gagariya phor dale

Mori sari anari bhigor gayo ray
Nainon say jadoo kiya, jeeya ra mohay liya, hai jeeya ra mohay liya
Mora ghunghta najariyon say for gayo ray
2 "Nandlal" is an affectionate name for Lord Krishna.

39
Translation of Lyric 6: Lord Krishna at my watering-place
Lord Krishna teased me while I was drawing water at my watering-place today

He playfully twisted my delicate wrist
Lord Krishna teased me...
He threw pebbles at my earthenware water-container, and burst it!

The entire bodice of my garments was drenched!
Casting a spell over me by means of an amorous glance, he rapidly won my heart

And rent apart my veil of modesty with one swift look!
40
The relationship between Anarkali and Saleem opens on a very charming

note indeed, where she performs a dance to this lyric dressed in a brightly
coloured outfit, surrounded by several ladies of the court that collectively
resemble a bevy of iridescent butterflies. Although Mughl-e-Azam is a film with a
predominantly Muslim background and overtones, this lyric is especially unique
in that the wordings are markedly Hindu. Naturally to some extent this is meant to
highlight the influence, over the court, of Akbar's royal consort in the film,
Empress Jodha Bai. The original Hindu background of Saleem's mother, Jodha, is
implicitly honoured in this scene, and the poetic license that Director K. Asif took
with this point only serves to enhance the fact that Hindustan was, for Akbar, an
amalgam of Muslim and Hindu influence alike. This fact can be attested to by the
dramatic opening of the film, where it is India that speaks in dramatic and moving
tones: the image depicted being that of a map of the Indian empire, with a
background voice stating: "Main Hindustan hoop" (I am Hindustan).
Although the particular female persona behind this lyric is not specified,
one may safely assume that it is Lord Krishna's beloved, Radhahis eternally
youthful and beautiful sweetheart, in the company of whom he has been
immortalized in sundry artistic images and pieces of literature. Moreover, like a
couple of the lyrics in Pakeezah, this lyric is not written in the more formal
linguistic register of Urdu. It is in the Poorbi dialect, which is native to certain
portions of India, and, more significantly, is frequently used in film songs for
flirtatious, semi-formal scenes and light-hearted dance sequences. Naturally, since
Anarkali is performing this dance at court, it cannot count as a semi-formal affair
per se; however, the tone of the lyric serves to emphasize the early awakening of
Saleem's passion for his future beloveda point that is further underscored by
the eternal springtime represented by the romance of Radha and Krishna. Like
41
Umrao Jaan, Anarkali normally performs her dances in a more formal peshwaz. In
this scene, however, she is portrayed as dancing in a ghagraa rather full-skirt
that swirls as rapidly and smoothly as the lower portion of the peshwaz. The
ghagra-skirt is accompanied by a short bodice, which has shorter sleeves,
however, than the bodice of the peshwaz (the sleeves of the latter end at the
wrists, those of the former at the elbow or higher).
From a musical perspective, this song is a thumri, in that it keeps
returning, after a rhythmic series of beats, to the same phrase over and over
again..."Mohay panghat etc." The tabla (drum) beat to which Anarkali dances in
this scene, and which accompanies the music of this lyric is the keherwa beat,
which can be measured in multiples of four. Other beats of the tabla include the
dadra (measured in multiples of six) and the lovely, but unusually uneven, rupak
(measured in multiples of seven beats). The systematic and precisely regulated

labia beat of this deceptively easy thumri make it an especially fine melody to
which one may dance. In musical training of the Sub-continent, numerous lyrics
that are created for the purpose of practicing and elucidating classical raags are
frequently composed in the Poorbi dialect. The latter linguistic medium is less
elite and formal than Urdu, and lends itself more readily to adaptation to
numerous different musical patterns and rhythms.
42
Lyric 7: Qavvali at Akbar's court; Teri mehfil main qismat aazma kar:
Bahar: Teri mehfil main qismat aazma kar hum bhi dekhain gay
Ghari bhar ko teray nazdeek aa kar hum bhi dekhain gay
Ajee haan hum bhi dekhain gay
Anarkali: Teri mehfil main qismat aazma kar hum bhi dekhain gay
Teray qadmon pay sar apna jhulca kar hum bhi dekhain gay
Bahar: Bahaarain aaj paighaam-e-mohabbat lay kay aayee hain

Bari muddat main ummeedon ki kaliyan muskuraaee hain
Gham-e-dil say zara daaman bacha kar hum bhi dekhain gay
Anarkali: Agar dil gham say khali ho to jeenay ka maza kya hai
Na ho khoon-e-jigar to ashq peenay ka maza kya hai
Mohabbat main zara aansu baha kar hum bhi dekhain gay
Bahar: Mohabbat karnay valon ka hai bas Una hee afsana

Tarapna chupke chupke, aah bharna, ghut kay mar jana
Kisi din yeh tamasha muskura kar hum bhi dekhain gay
43
Translation of Lyric 7; I must come and test my destiny in your company:
Bahar: I must come and test my destiny in your august company

Just for a fleeting moment. I wish to approach you and see how it feels
Yes, indeed, I will see
Anarkali: I too must come and test my destiny in your august company
In supreme adoration, I desire to place my head at your feet, and see how it feels
Yes, indeed, I will see
Bahar: Today the gentle winds of spring waft messages of love towards you
After a very long hiatus, the blossoms of hope are smiling again
Yet I will try to avoid growing close to my heartache
Yes, indeed, I will
Anarkali: If one's heart is devoid of sorrow, then how is one able to enjoy the
passions of life
If one's internal wounds (caused by love) do not bleed, then how can one enjoy
the bittersweet medicine of sorrow
So I will shed tears of genuine love for you, and see what they feel like
Yes, indeed, I will
Bohan The story of all lovers may be summarized as follows:

To suffer love's agonies in silence, sigh with pain, and die a slow death
Some day I will behold this spectacle with amusement
Yes, indeed, I will
44
Anarkali: Mohabbat, hum nay mana, zindagi barbaad karti hai

Yeh kya kum hai kay mar janay pay dunya yaad karti hai
Kisi kay ishy main dunya luta kar hum bhi dekhain gay
45
Anarkali: I agree that love relentlessly devastates life

Yet it is no minor achievement that, following their deaths, lovers are eternally
remembered
So I will sacrifice my entire world for the sake of my beloved
Yes, indeed, I will
46
As the reader may have already noted, the lyrics of Alughl-e-Azam depart
significantly from the standard form of the Urdu ghazal. The first lyric is a
melodic ihumri; this one takes the form of a competitive qavvali. A qavvali is a
devotional mode of song, often used to celebrate God and the figure of the
Prophet Mohammed, and other patron saints. Several qcrvvalis are based on
esoteric themes such as Sufi contemplation of God, the mystical "Mairaj" journey
of the Prophet to heaven, or about deeply moving religious and emotional
scenarios such as the Kerbala martyrdom of Hazrat Imam Hussainthe Prophet's
virtuous grandson. This particular lyric however, is much more feminine and
romantic in content, although it follows the structure of a qavvali, with Bahaar
(also called Dilaraam"heart's ease"in other versions of the legend) and
Anarkali leading their respective choric groups. Both women are accompanied by
their own chorus of ladies, who serve to echo their respective refrains; this
musical motif emulates qavvali tradition closely. That the genre of devotional
poetry has been playfully adapted to represent a musical exchange between the
abovementioned women as they strive to compete for the love of Saleem testifies
not only to the versatility of this lyric form, but also to its ability to evoke strong
passions in its listeners, due to a strong drum beat.
That both women appear to have fallen in love with the eminently eligible
Saleem is made evident fairly early in the film. Anarkali/Nadira is asked (by the
royal court sculptor) to stand in for a statue that has not yet been completed; that
she does not flinch when Saleem shoots an arrow to release the veil that covers
the sculpture attracts his attention to her, and the romance begins at that point.
Bahaar (whose name means "spring"; a pun that is alluded to in her second
exchange with Anarkali in this lyric) is a lady of Akbar's court who appears to
wield considerable influence there. This is ascertained by a later scene, as
47
Empress Jodha asks her to present the emperor with his sword when he is
determined to ride out in battle against his sonnaturally Saleem's mother feels
herself emotionally unequipped to handle the task. Bahaar's temperament and
social status jointly contribute to her decided cynicism towards the general
concept of love and passion. This firm desire to avoid the hazards and traps of
love and avoid punishments stands in diametric opposition to the forcefully
idealistic sentiments exhibited by Anarkali in this qavvali.
Thus, Bahaar is emphatic about escaping from love's entanglements in a
manner that will leave her unscathed. Anarkali, on the other hand, culminates her
profuse declarations of love with the defiant statement (made as much for the
prince's benefit as her own) that she will exist for love alone; indeed, she goes as
far as to indicate that she will sacrifice everything for it. At the end of the
performance, Prince Saleem appreciatively presents Bahaar with a roseyet
perhaps this gesture symbolizes both a challenge and a veiled taunt, whereby the
prince tacitly implies that though Bahaar is determined to avoid love there is
nothing like its beauty. He presents Anarkali with a set of thorns, ostensibly to
remind her of love's pain. Yet her riposte to him is that unlike roses, thorns are
not prone to withering away. She is undoubtedly correct in her surmise.
48
Lyric 8: Mohabbat ki jhooti kahanee pay roay
Mohabbat ki jhooti kahanee pay roay, kahanee pay roay

Baree chat khaaee, jawaneey pay roay, jawanee pay roay
Na socha, na samjha, na dekha, na bhala

Teree aarzoo nay humain maar dala
Three pyaar kee mehrbanee pay roay, roay
Mohabbat kijhooti kahanee pay roay
Khabar kya thee, honton ko seena paray ga

Mohabbat chupa /car bhee jeena paray ga
Jeeye to magar zindagani pay roay, roay
Mohabbat kijhooti kahanee pay roay
49
Translation of Lyric 8: I wept at the falsity within my love-story
I wept at the falsity within my love-story

The wounds were so deep, my youth could scarcely bear the pain
I did not pause to think or reflect, to examine or assess

Since my desire for you has in effect killed me
But I did shed tears at the thought of your kindness and care
As I wept at the falsity within my love-story
Little did I realize that I would have to seal my lips

Conceal my love, and continue "living"
Yes, I "live", but the awareness of my very existence
Makes me weep at the falsity within my love-story
50
Unlike both Pakeezah and Umrao Jaan, where the respective heroes are
well-born but decidedly non-royal, Mughl-e-Azam is much stricter in its emphasis
on class distinctions. Throughout the film Anarkali is periodically referred to, by
Akbar (and on occasion herself), as a lcaneezin this specific case a polite label
for a female courtier of low rank; a label that underscores her obligation to serve
the court and retain her position entirely at the will of the imperial family. We are
well aware that the legend of Anarkali is precisely thata legendbut even had
it had an element of truth to it, it is highly debatable whether Saleem's marriage to
Anarkali would have been permitted even in a "morganatic" sense of the word.
Anarkali/Nadira is portrayed as being from a devout Muslim family, and it is
unlikely that had she been a real historical courtier she would have accepted
anything less than a marriage contract. In the event that Anarkali had been a real
person, one may safely hypothesize that among the many favours the imperial
Mughal family would have granted her, a suitable marriage to a courtier of similar
or slightly more elevated rank would have definitely been one. However, given
Akbar's power and towering stature, a dynastic marriage would have been a
foregone conclusion from the very start of the prince's life. Unlike the European
courts of the time (and later) the concept of a royal mistress (or maitresse en titre)
who was publicly acknowledgedalong with her offspringby the ruler would
have forcibly gone against the grain of a Muslim Mughal empire.
Thus. Anarkali's lament in this lyric, while undoubtedly heartfelt,
primarily serves to indicate that in the throes of tragedy she is as removed from
reality as when she is in love. Her repression of the cold, hard fact that love must
needs bow before societalor in this case, royaldictates, ties in with the
passionate idealism she displays in her yavvali contest with Bahaar. There are
some oddly enigmatic aspects to this lyric, that concern the position of Anarkali
51
herself at this point in the film, and later. Precisely how selfless Anarkali's love is
at this point remains debatable, although the later lyric "Khuda Nigehbaan"
certainly displays a more altruistic mode of feeling. She certainly has enough
personal talent, and influence over Saleem, to be able to extract an important
promise from the emperor towards the end of the film, that he grants, albeit
reluctantly. This royal vow permits her to be legitimately married to the prince, if
only for a few hours. However, Akbar is quite clear about letting her know that,
aside from a single night of enviable social elevation, she will obtain nothing else.
That particular moment is fraught with dramatic irony, for in a scene that is as
terrible as it is beautiful, Akbar, with grudging respect, places a crown on her
head himself. Moreover, precisely what type of "falsity" she rails against in this
lyric also remains enigmatically incomprehensible. Certainly, it is by no means
Saleein who is false, since he remains staunchly loyal to her for the entire duration
of the film. Perhaps this lyric ultimately illustrates that love like numerous other
sentiments is not simply at the mercy of societal constraints, but also must bend
its will to the dictates of Fate. Against forces such as these, Anarkali, and even-
ironicallyAkbar himself, cannot truly triumph.
52
Lyric 9: Pyaar kiya to darna kiya
Insaan kisi say dunya main, ik baar mohabbat karna hai

Is dard ko lay kar jeeta hai, is dard ko lay kar marta hai
Pyaar kiya to darna kiya, jab pyaar kiya to darna kiya

Pyaar kiya koee chori nahin ki, pyaar kiya
Pyaar kiya koee chori nahin ki
Chup chup aahen bharna kiya
Jab pyaar kiya to darna kiya
Aaaj kahain gay dil ka fasana

Jan bhi lay lay chahay zamana
Maul vohijo dunya dekhay
Ghut ghut kar yoon mama kiya
Pyaar kiya to darna kiya
Unki tamanna dil main rahay gi

Shama isi mehfil main rahay gi
ishq main jeena, ishq main mama
Aur hamain ab karna kiya
Chupna sakay go ishq hamara

Charon taraf hai 1417 ka nazara
Pardah nahin jab koee khuda say
Bandon say pardah karna kiya
53
Translation of Lyric 9: When one has loved, what is there to fear?
It is only once in a lifetime that one truly falls in love

It is with this agony that one lives, and likewise with this agony one dies
When one has loved, what is there to fear?

One has loved, not committed a crime like theft, one has loved
Why should one have to sigh and suffer in silence?
Today, I have decided to declare the story of my love

Even if I fatally become a victim of social norms
[Ivly] death must be made visible to the world's gaze
Why should one suffer to be stifled this way?
My desire for my beloved will remain in my heart

Its flame will constantly light up this [royal] gathering
To live for love, and to die for love
Is my raison d 'etre; nothing else matters
Our love cannot conceal itself

My beloved's image appears everywhere
When one conceals nothing from God
Why seek to hide one's passion from Man?
When one has loved, what is there to fear
54
Mughl-e-Azam was originally shot almost entirely in black and white.

With the advent of colour cinematography for films, this particular lyric was the
only scene in the film that was done in gorgeous colour. Now the entire film is
available in a digitalized colour version, and in spite of the nostalgic appeal and
cinematic "authenticity" of the black and white footage, a film epic of such
proportions can only be enhanced by presentation in colour. Regardless of
whether one is struck by the contrast between the other scenes (in black and
white) of the original and the lustrous colour of this one, where Anarkali performs
her final dance at court, it soon becomes evident that at this point in the film the
kaneez is quite literally giving the performance of her life. Objectively speaking,
Anarkali dances more magnificently at the commencement of this lyric than she
does throughout the rest of the film. The choreographed prelude to this song is
performed to a dizzyingly rapid recital of tabla beats, and the dancer's footwork is
graceful and precise to the point of near-perfection. Saleem is quite obviously
moved by the performance, the Empress Jodha Bai makes no attempt to conceal
her admiration at the dancer's spectacular performance, and even the emperor
himself, try as he might, cannot repress a smile of genuine appreciation.
This scene was shot in a famous Indian Sheesh Mahal (Palace of Mirrors).
Hence the line "Charon taraf hai un Ica nazara" (indicating that Saleem's image,
as well as the dancer's, appears everywhere) is a direct result of the myriad little
reflections that simultaneously depict a love-struck Saleem to Anarkali, and a
whirling-dervish like dancer to the imperious, yet oddly reflective, Akbar. These
myriad reflections may be symbolically read as the numerous times that Saleem
and Anarkali's love will be faithfully recounted over the agesa sentiment that
Akbar's kaneez expressed in her early qavvali against Bahaar: "Yeh kya kum hai
55
kay mar janay pay dunya yaad karti hat" (yet it is no minor achievement that,
following their deaths, lovers are eternally remembered).
Anarkali's defiance in this particular lyric (and scene) is evident. This is
understandable since this scene connotes the actualization of her idealistic and
dramatic notions of love and passion. Her defiance reaches its utmost culmination
in the aftermath of the dance, where her personal pride does not permit the royal
guards to lay a finger on her, in spite of the fact that she is Akbar's political
prisoner. The stubborn dignity with which she makes her exit in this scene draws
our attention, especially at this juncture in the film, to the fact that although she is
prone to a variety of conflicting emotions (sorrow, love, defiance, despair) she
never stoops to appearing morally weak or undignified.
56
Lyric 10: Anarkali's supplication to the Prophet;

Baykas pay karam keejiye Sarkar-e-Madina
Ay meray mushkil kusha, faryad hai, faryad hai

Aap kay hotay huay dunya meri barbaad hai
Baykas pay karam keejiye Sarkar-e-Madina

Gardish main hai taqdeer, bhamvar main hai sa eena
Hai vaqt-e-madad, aaiye bigree ko bananay

Posheeda nahin aap say is dil kay fasanay
Zakhmon say bhara hai kisi majboor ka seena
Baykas pay karam keejiye
Chace hai niuseebat ki ghata, gaysoo-on valay

Lillah, meri doobtee kashii ko bachalain
Toofan kay aasaar hain, dushwar haijeena
Baykas pay karam keejiye
57
Translation of Lyric 10; Have mercy on this poor wretch, Lord of Madina:
Oh you, the alleviator of my miseries, listen, listen to my supplication

Even though you are with me, my life is close to being destroyed
Have mercy on this poor wretch, Lord of Madina

My destiny is in turmoil, my [life's] ship in turbulence
Now is the time for assistance, come to help me in my desperate plight

No aspect of my love-story is concealed from you
The bosom of this poor dependent is full of wounds
Have mercy on this poor wretch
Dense clouds of gloom gather above me, oh my Lord of the dark locks
For God's sake, rescue my sinking ship
It appears impossible that I can survive the approaching storm
Have mercy on this poor wretch
58
I have already mentioned that Anarkali/Nadira is portrayed in the film as

belonging to a good Muslim family at Akbar's court. Indeed, there is a scene
where she is shown to be reading the Quran, and saying her prayers. Thus, once
the plot gains speed and momentum, and she is cast into Akbar's dungeons, it is
quite natural that she should appeal to the spirit of the Prophet for aid. Her
seeking of spiritual solace creates an intriguing counterbalance to her earlier
dance sequences, and helps to depict various aspects of her personality; this latter
point is well-actualized by the versatile talent of the actress portraying the kaneez,
Madhubala.
Although Anarkali's supplication in this lyric differs from naats (holy
Muslim readings to musical rhythmthough not musical accompaniment) in that
it is set to music, like all the other lyrics of the film, the poetry of the piece
remains strongly reminiscent of naat khwani (naat recital). I must emphasize that
the Prophet Mohammed is never directly referred to by name in the lyric. Instead,
he is addressed using two of his many soubriquets"Lord of Madina," and "Lord
of the dark locks." This subtle technique is quite common in holy poems about
him, since an indirect address implicitly carries a delicate respect within itself. In
certain naats, the attribute "Lord of the scented locks" is used, as is the term
"Lord of the black mantle."
This scene gains a cinematic authenticity from the fact that Madhubala
was chained (for the specific purposes of filming) in the dungeon with real chains
made of metal. Already in delicate health while the scenes were being shot, she
braved this ordeal heroically so that her acting could be enhanced by genuine (as
opposed to fake) props. One of the memorable dramatic elements of her role as
Anarkali arises from the point that she appears equally plausible playing the
wretched prisoner as she does playing the flirtatious dancer, or intriguing kaneez.
59
Thus the separate and conjoined portrayals of the intelligent and virtuous Nadira,
the alluring Anarkali, and the shunned and despairing captive of Akbar's court all
bear witness to Madhubala's versatile talent.
The metaphor, central to this lyric, of life being likened to a ship on
turbulent seas is a fairly common one in naats and devotional ghazals alike. For
the purposes of explanatory comparison I make note of a well-known naat whose
refrain is "Meray dil main hai yaad-e-Mohammed" (my heart bears a longing for
Mohammed). One of the couplets of this naat claims that "Jab nigehbaan hain
meray Mohammed/Kaisay doobay ga mera sajeena" (When Mohammed is toy
guardian/ Then how can the ship of my life possibly sink). The reference to
Prophet Mohammed as being a nigehbaan or guardian is echoed in the final lyric
of this film: only there the "guardian" referred to is God Himself
60
Lyric 11: Jub raat hai aisi matwaali
Yeh dil ki lagee kam kya hogi

Yeh ishq bhala kum kya hoga
Jub raat hai aisi matwaali
Jub raw hai aisi matwaali
Phir subha ka aalam kiya hoga
Naghmon say harastee hai mastee

Chalkay hairs khushi kay paimaanay
Aaj aisee baharain aaee hairs
Kal jinkay banengay afsaanay
Ab issay ziada our haseen
Yeh piyaar ka mausam kiya hoga
Jub raat hai aisee matwaalee
Yeh aaj ka rang our yeh mehfil

Dil bhi hai yahaan dildar bhi hai
Aankhon main qiamat kay jalway
Seenay mein tarapta piyar bhi hai
lss rang mein koijeelay agar
Marnay ka usay ghum kiya hoga
Jub raat hai aisee matwaalee
61
Translation of Lyric 11: When this night is so heady
My heart's desire will not lessen

Neither will my love for you diminish
When this night is so heady
Then what will be the state of dawn?
Rivulets of joy spill over from my songs

My cup of bliss is full to the brim
Today has brought spring blossoms
That will give rise to future love-stories
Surely the season of love
Cannot grow more beautiful than this?
The vivid colours of this scene and company are before me

My heart as well as its beloved are present here
My eyes behold wondrous images
My heart is throbbing with passion
If one can live thus
Then why should one fear dying?
62
Haalat hal ajab deewanon ki

Ab khair naheen parwaanon kee
Anjaam e muhabbat kiya kahiyay
Lai burhnay lagee armaanon kee
Aisay mein Jo payal toot ga-ay
Phir aiy meray hum dum kiya hoga
Jub raal hai aisee matwaalee
63
Those madly in love are in as much danger

As moths that traverse too close to a flame
What can one predict about the outcome of love
As the tempo and passion of desire escalate?
If my anklets shatter now
What will happen then, my companion?
64
It is highly unusual in sub-continental films to see a major character

clothed in black for a wedding scene; however, this is precisely how Bahaar is
dressed when she performs this lyric for the benefit of Saleem and Anarkali prior
to their wedding-night. There are two main reasons for Bahaar donning this
colour of mourning: first, that Anarkali's "marriage" to Saleem signals the end of
Bahaar's hope that she will one day herself be his royal consort, and second, her
attire subtly underscores the dramatic irony that Anarkali's triumph itself will be
short-lived. Generally widows in the sub-continent wear white, not black, as a
colour of mourning; however, Indian and Pakistani culture associates both hues
with the absence (or negation) of bright, vivid shades, and hence, white is often
considered as "joyless" whereas black is indicative of tragedy. In a touch of
superb irony, Anarkali is shown walking towards Saleem at the commencement of
this scene in a pure white peshwaz. The contrast between the cynical Bahaar's
implicit unhappiness, and the delight of her ladies at the "celebration," is made all
the more evident by the point that her ladies (who accompany her in the refrain of
this romantic qavvali) are clothed in a variety of rainbow-hued outfits.
Prior to this scene, and utterly unbeknownst to Saleem, Akbar and
Anarkali have reached an agreement. Although able to enjoy a "matwaalee raal"
(intoxicating night) of bliss with her beloved, Anarkali is to be executed the
following morning. That Bahaar, in spite of all her considerable influence and
contacts at court, is aware of this secret pact between the emperor and the kaneez
is highly unlikely. Nevertheless, the dramatization of this lyric is fraught with
irony, especially since the (covertly ominous) refrain of the song insists on the
point that such a wonderful night must necessarily lead towards a glorious
morning. The ironic aspect of this scene is echoed during the moment when we
see Anarkali start with shock as she hears the refrain; however, since her face, at
65
that point, is veiled from the prince, Bahaar, and her ladies alike, her gesture
appears to be as covert as the ironic sarcasm of the lyric.
In a moment that hearkens back to the earlier competitive qavvali between
Anarkali and Bahaar, the "princess" holds out a rose towards her beloved. One
recalls that Saleem had presented Bahaar with a rose (symbolic of love's beauty)
and Anarkali with thorns (symbolic of love's sorrow). In this particular case,
however, the rose that Anarkali proffers has been infused with a powerful drug,
intended to put Saleem into a temporary, but deep, slumber while she makes her
tragic retreat. Thus the beauty of love itself (allegorized by the roses) is
contaminated. This element of danger finds a parallel in the reference to moths
who are drawn too close to flames (Ab khair naheen parwaanon kee), whichas
we also noted in the second lyric of Umrao Joan is a very common allegorical
motif for doomed lovers. Indeed, both lyrical references fit particularly well into
the scene since the marriage is not sexually consummated, and Anarkali
obediently drugs the prince into temporary oblivion as Bahaar completes the ill-
omened qavvali and retreats with her ladies.
66
Lyric 12. Khuda nigehbaan ho tumhara
Voh aayee subh kay parday say maul ki awaz

Kisi nay for diya jaisay zindagi ka saaz
Khuda nigehbaan ho tumhara

Dharaktay dil ka payaam lay to
Tumhari dunya say jaa rahay hain
Utho hamara salaam lay to
Uthay janaza jo kal hamara

Qasam hai turn ko, na dayna kaandha
Na ho mohabbat humaree ruswa
In aansuon ka payaam lay to
Hai vagt-e-rukhsat, galay laga to

Khata-ain bhi aaj bakhsh dalo
Bicharnay valay ka dil no toro
Zara mohabbat say kaam laylo
67
Translation of Lyric 12: May God be your guardian
As the curtain rises to reveal daybreak, I hear Death's summons

It's as if someone had shattered the instrument that plays Life's music
May God be your guardian

This is the message of my pulsating heart
I am departing from your world
My wish for you is: that you live in peace
When they lift up my bier tomorrow

Promise me that you will not lend it your shoulder
Our love should not become the subject of slander
My very tears pray that this not be the case
The time for our final parting is nigh

Let us embrace; forgive me my wrongs
Do not break the heart of one who departs forever
All I ask for is a little love
68
The death of the legendary Anarkali is probably one of the best-known

aspects of her tragic love-story. Several popular versions claim that she was
condemned to being buried alive within the confining precincts of a brick wall,
whereupon she subsequently died of suffocation. There even exists a tomb that is
now part of the national archives building of Lahore, Pakistan, that allegedly
contains her remains. The legend that has arisen around this tomb is that her life
was spared by Akbar, but she was forced to make her way out of Delhi by means
of secret tunnels, and then passed her remaining years in close proximity to the
historic and architecturally lovely city of Lahore, pining for her lost love Prince
Saleem; and it was here that she was eventually buried. The historic Saleem (who
is more commonly known as Emperor Jahangir) was ultimately married to the
woman who, arguably, is the most famous and powerful South-Asian female ruler
ever knownthe politically astute and exquisitely polished Empress Noorjehan.
An interesting side point concerning films involving the imperial Mughals is that
Jahangir and Noorjehan's son, Shah Jehan was cinematically immortalized in the
film Taj Mahal, which is about the monument of the same namea building so
justifiably famous that it really requires no introduction. The selfsame film guest-
starred the versatile actress Veena as Noorjehan; Veena plays a prominent role, as
the heroine's aunt, in Pakeezah.
In Alughl-e-Azam, Nadira's mother calls in a favour in order to obtain her
daughter's release. Since Anarkali/Nadira's mother had been the first one to
inform Emperor Akbar of the birth of his royal heir on the ruler's return from a
pilgrimage to the shrine of Saint Saleem Chishti in Fatehpur Sikri, the emperor
had joyfully granted her the ability to ask any one boon of him at any given time.
The despairing mother realizes that the only way in which she can secure the
release (and life) of her child is by supplicating the emperor's assistance towards
69
the close of the film. In a dramatically generous gesture that reflects Akbar's
imperial justice (symbolized by the golden scales at his court that are quite a
prominent cinematic feature of the epic production), he keeps his promise, and
Anarkali's life is spared; however, the kaneez-turned-princess is nonetheless
forever banished from court. For a substantial portion of the film, Anarkali spends
time in dungeons and dark areas (not to mention strife-ridden battlefields where
the prince and his father battle over her fate). This use of dark and gloomy spaces
plays a vital role in both her general legend as well as in the film, since
imprisonment can symbolically be viewed as representing the forcible repression
and quelling of one's passions.
Anarkali's final thoughts, according to this lyric, are naturally focused on
her beloved, whom she commends, with sincerity, to the care and guidance of
God. There is no bitterness to her words in this lyric, although the tone is somber
to the point of being funereal. While the reference to her "bier" is symbolic, not
literal, in Anarkali's opinion life without Saleem is not worth livingthis is
evidenced by the deep, almost crippling, depression that overcomes her as she
leaves the crypts of the palace with her caring mother.
71
Pakeezah
Although it has been highly acclaimed for its lyrics and dance sequences
alike, Pakeezah is above all a film about respectability. Its plot hinges on the
dramatic irony (to which the viewer is privy almost from the very commencement
of the film) of Sahibjaan's parentage. The beauty of the production lies in the fact
that Meena Kumari plays a type of ideal heroineone who is inherently
respectable and moral, yet whose unorthodox lifestyle enables her myriad talents
as a dancer, singer, and courtesan to flourish. This strange blend of decency and
performance art gives the character of Sahibjaan a depth and complexity that
saves her from being perceived as just another pretty face on screen. Kumari was
known for her superb ability to infuse the tragic roles that she chose to play with
an authenticity of feeling that reached its zenith in her performance in Pakeezah.
Naturally, her death shortly after the film's release gives it a historic poignancy of
status whereby she will forever be most strongly associated with her last and most
memorable role.
72
Lyric 13: Inhee logon nay lay leena dupalta mera
Inhee logon nay, ihnee logon nay

Inhee logon nay leena dupatta mera
Humree no mano, bajajwa say poocho

Humree no 'nano, saeeyaan,
Humree no mano, bajajwa say poocho
Jis nay ashaill gal deena dupatta mera
Humree no mano, rangrajwa say poocho

Humree no mano, saeeyaan,
Humree no mono, rangrajwa say poocho
Jis nay gulabi rang deena dupatta mera
Humree na mano, sipayyah say poocho

Humree na mano, saeeyaan,
Humree na mano, sipayyah say pooch
Jis nay bajaria main cheena dupatta mera
73
Translation of yric 13: These are the very people who have taken away my
veil from me
These are the very people, these are the very people
These are the very people who have taken away my veil from me
If you do not believe me, ask the shopkeeper

If you do not believe me, sweet one
If you do not believe me, ask the shopkeeper
Who sold me the cloth of my veil for a gold sovereign per yard
If you do not believe me, ask the cloth-dyer

If you do not believe me, ask the cloth-dyer
Who dyed the cloth of my veil in a deep pink shade of colour
If you do not believe me, ask the policeman

If you do not believe me, ask the policeman
Who attempted to snatch my veil from me in the marketplace
74
The first few scenes of Pakeezah inform the reader of the heroine
Sahibjaan's unusual parentage and her aunt Nawabjaan's adoption of the
motherless child. Born to a mother from the kotha, her father's family background
consists of a much respected set of people ("shurafa": literally "decent folk"). A
hypnotic sequence at the beginning of the film gives the audience a glimpse of the
heroine's mother Nargis dancing around an ornate lantern. The film gradually
implies that Nargis' considerable talent as a dancer has been inherited by her
daughter. Indeed, this is evident from the dance that accompanies this particular
lyric, which incidentally, is the first time we see the grown Sahibjaan in the film
(however, Meena Kumari played a double role in that she was cast as Nargis as
well). Thus, under the watchful eye of her strong-willed aunt, Sahibjaan's innate
grace and dancing ability is carefully cultivated to the point where her youth,
beauty, and talent attract numerous customers, many of them as wealthy as certain
members of Umrao Jaan's clientele.
Sahibjaan, like Umrao, is also obviously a girl of the kotha; although
Umrao/Ameeran is of humble, but sound-moralled and god-fearing parents.
Moreover, whereas Umrao is invariably shown performing in closed rooms,
Kumari's dance sequences often take place out in the open, i.e. this particular
performance takes place in one of the small pavilion-like settings that collectively
comprise the dancing girls' marketplace (bazaar). What is rather charming is the
manner in which the camera focuses predominantly on Sahibjaan's dance, but the
performances of other girls are also captured in the cinematic background. In this
particular scene the atmosphere is quite merry and festive. Correspondingly, the
mood of the song appears light, frivolous, and flirtatious. Sahibjaan's dance and
the words of the lyric successfully harmonize in order to convey the impression
that the clothing of a dancer (in this case a colourful, but quite modest, peshwaz)
75
is an integral part of her charm. The lyric is in Poorbi, which was used to create
the thumri, "Mohay Panghat" (My watering-place); incidentally, that was
Anarkali's first major dance in Mughl-e-Azam.
In spite of the ostensibly light-hearted mood to which I refer above, the
lyrics contain undertones that reflect a plaintive streak, which is supported by the
singer's desire to protect her dignity. I should clarify that the dupatta (loosely
translatable as "veil") symbolizes Sahibjaan's elegance as well as her dignity. It
may seem strange that since the veil is traditionally associated with respectability,
such a fuss should be made about it in this lyric; however, as much of the film
demonstrates, a courtesan, or prostitute, or dancing-girl has as much right to her
sentiments as any other woman. To some degree, this entire song is about
protecting oneself from the inevitable sexual dangers that kotha-girls face on a
regular basis. However, I deliberately use the term "undertones," since, in spite of
the lowliness of this profession, this song, and virtually all the others of the film,
portray Sahibjaan as a romantic first and foremost, and then as a figure who
dances for her upkeep. The reason for this, of course, is that her parentage on her
father's side is remarkably good stock, and the related implication is that she is
fundamentally a virtuous and respectable girlor "pure" as the film's title
indicates.
76
Lyric 14: Tha-re rahiyo, ho baan-ke-yaar
Aaj kee raat baree dair kay baad ayee hai

Yeh mzilaqacti baree dair kay baad ayee hai
Aaj kee raat voh aayain hain baree dair kay baad
Aaaj kee mat bari dair kay baad ayee hai
Tha-re rahiyo, ho baan-ke-yaar ray tha-re rahiyo

Tha-re rahiyo, tha-re rahiyo, (ha-re rahiyo
Tha-re rahiyo, ho baan-ke-yaar ray (ha-re rahiyo
Thairo lagaye aaoon nainon main lcajra

Choice main lagaaoon phoolon ka gajra
Main to kar aaoon solah singhaar ray, (ha-re rahiyo
Jaagay na koee, raina hai thoree

Bolay cham-a-cham payal nigoree
Main to dheeray say kholoongee dwaar ray
77
Translation of Lyric 14: Tarry a moment, my handsome lover
This special night has finally arrived after so very' long

This amorous meeting has come about after so very long
Tarry a moment, my handsome lover, tarry

Tarry, tarry, tarry
Wait for a while, as I line my eyes with black kohl

While I weave a garland of scented flowers into the braid of my hair
I will carefully complete the embellishment of my cosmetics to the last detail
Take care that no-one else awakens, only a little of the night remains
My naughty anklets make pretty tinkling sounds
I will open the doors as softly as I am able to do so
78
As the "Introduction" to this text clarifies, a dancing girl (or a courtesan)

is not technically obliged to engage in sexual relations with a customer. Her
primary purpose, from a professional perspective, is to provide entertainment for
her paying audience. The three female figures on which this book focuses in large
measure would definitely not classify as women of the streets who might out of
sheer desperation be obliged to sell their sexual services for whatever price
possible. Anarkali is part of the Mughal court, Umrao lives in a rather protective
establishment (moreover, she is educated), and while Sahibjaan is perhaps the
most socially vulnerable (and stigmatized) of the three, even her situation is never
depicted as being a financially desperate one. Sahibjaan's repertoire of dances is
expected to be interesting and enticing enough to justify receiving the type of
financial payment that can both keep her aunt's establishment in business and
ensure the ongoing success of her career. The latter would be contingent on the
development of her reputation by word of mouth.
Nevertheless, depending on the wealth, influence, and persistence of the
customer concerned, it could be all too common for an evening of dance to be
prolonged towards an amorous, even sexual, exchange. This lyric, also set
outdoors, takes place at the elegant residence of an acquaintance of Nawabjaan.
Although equally romantic as the previous lyric, the youthful innocence found in
the first song is not as evident in this particular sequence. The reasons for this are:
Sahibjaan is singing this at a much later hour of the evening than "Inhee logon
nay," and furthermore the song thematically focuses on seduction and specifically
on the physical charms of the young seductress. In this manner it is somewhat
similar to the first couple of lyrics of Umrao Jaan, where Umrao initially sings of
feelings, and then of her physical attributes. Although she lacks the mature grace
of Umrao, Sahibjaan's strengths as a seductress are by no means negligible. There
79
is a genuine sweetness that imbues her every performance which, coupled with
her practiced skill at holding the attention of her male audience, makes her
irresistible.
The toilette of a dancing girl is obviously of considerable importance to
her success as both a performer and sexual companion. Sahibjaan's age in
Pakeezah is clearly placed at about sixteen years. For this reason the term "solah
singhaar" is particularly aptit generally refers to the cosmetic adornment of
youth, but "solah" also literally translates to "sixteen." She possesses all the
fundamental advantages that youth and beauty can bestow on her. Her aunt,
though no longer a dancer, retains a handsome countenance that renders her
impressive in maturity. Nawabjaan's strength of character and decidedly
determined personality counterbalance her niece's romantic idealism and youthful
allure.
80
Lyric 15: Chaltay Chaltay
Chaltay chaltay, yoonheen koee mil gaya tha

Yooheen koee mil gaya tha
Sar-e-raah chaltay chaltay
Sar-e-raah chaltay chaltay
Vaheen tham kay reh gayee hai

Meri raat chaltco, chaltay
Meri raat chaltay chaltay
Jo kahee gayee na mujh say

Voh zamana keh raha hai (repeated)
Kay jasana ban gaee hai
Mairee baat taltay taltay
Shab-e-intizaar aakhir
Kabhee ho gee mukhtasar bhee (repeated)
Yeh chiragh bujh rahay hamn
Meray swath jahay jaltay
81
Translation of Lyric 15: While walking
While I was walking, I met someone by chance

I met someone by chance
While walking by the wayside
While walking by the wayside
And thereby my evening, turning from dusk to darkness

Appeared to be arrested, as if its flow had slowed down
Society and the world are declaring

That which I found so difficult to express
Indeed the hesitations of my speech
Have, in and of themselves, created a type of story
Will this long night-of-expectancy

Ever draw to a conclusion
These lamps that burn along with me
Are becoming extinguished, they are dying out
82
One of Pakeezah's most memorable moments is when the hero, Saleem,

sees Sahibjaan sleeping on a trainhe walks into her compartment by accident.
This represents his first "encounter" with her. He is struck by her shapely and
pretty feet. Since she sleeps without her ghungroo (heavy anklets with bells on
them, worn by a dancer) he is unaware, at that point, of her profession. In a
gesture that is both quirky and charming he leaves a little folded-up note between
her toes. The note says "Your feet are very lovely. Do not place them on the
ground. They will get soiled." Saleem's imploring Sahibjaan to protect that part of
her body that is most important for her profession may be viewed as a cinematic
trope that combines the diverse themes of purity, dance, and romantic
admirationall of which feature prominently in the film.
However, on a deeper symbolic level, this moment draws attention to
travel in general since one uses one's feet to walk and journey to places. This lyric
combines the concept of walking and travel by means of railway. "Chaltay
chaltay"sung in the privacy of Sahibjaan's lodgingsends with the sharp
whistle of a passing train; this may be viewed as a metaphor for Sahibjaan's life-
journey up to this point, and is also simultaneously reminiscent of the romantic
manner in which she was first viewed by the gentleman who becomes her future
husband. At this particular juncture in the film, however, Sahibjaan's thoughts
concerning romance exist in a nebulous space where innocence and desire run
parallel to each other, although she has not lost the former or fulfilled the latter.
Therefore, there is a wistfulness to this song, for the heroine does not know if her
embryonic dreams of personally encountering the mysterious stranger who had
admired her feet will ever come to fruition. This yearning for perfect love,
socially unrealistic though it may be, represents the young girl's natural desire to
create a pure and untainted space within her imaginationa type of private shrine
83
that remains untouched by the jarring realities of kotha life, the lewd gazes of
sundry strange men, and the stigma that her profession necessarily entails. It is
here that Sahibjaan can fantasize in peace, and this particular lyric is a good
example of the types of fantasies that stem from her sentiments.
An important difference between the lyrics of Mughl-e-Azam and Umrao
Juan and the majority of songs in this film is that the attention of the songs of the
former two productions is equally divided between the figure of the dancing girl
and her other connections/interests, while in the case of Pakeezah, the story in
general, and the lyrics in particular, dwell almost exclusively on the heroine
herself While the first couple of lyrics objectify her charms, this lyric and the one
that follows ("Mausam hai aashiqana") concern themselves with her youthful,
pleasantly nave, views on love and romance. However, like the song "Tha-re-
rahiyo" this lyric takes place late at night (during a mujra at the Pink Palace) and
thus its tone differs from the hopeful "Mausam hai aashiqana"this last point
gains credence from the fact that the music of "Chaltay chaltay" has a stronger,
more resonant beat than any other lyric of the film. It is undeniably a passionate
dancer's song, whereas "Mausam hai aashiqana" conjures up picturesque images
of countryside strolls.
84
Lyric 16: Mausam hai aashiqaana
Mausam hai aashiqana

Al dil kaheen say un ko
Aisay main dhoond laana
Kehna kay rut jawan hai

Aur hum tarap rahay hain
Kali ghata kay saa-ay
Birhan ko das rahay hain
Dar hai na maar dalain
Sayan Ica kya thikaana
Sayan Ica kiya thinkana
Sooraj kahin bhi jaaye

Turn par na doob aaye
Turn ko pukartay hairs
In gaysoo-on kay saaye
Aajao main bana-doon
Pulkon ka shaamiana
Pulkon ka shaamiana
55
Translation of Lyric 16: The atmosphere is sensual
The atmosphere is sensual

Oh my heart, discover where he may be
And bring him to me
Tell him that the season is infused with youthful energy

And that I am agitated due to my longing for him
These dark, gathering storm-clouds
Pierce deep into my very loneliness
I am fearful of perishing due to danger
So whimsical is this ostensibly beautiful rainy season
So whimsical is this ostensibly beautiful rainy season
The strong sun may sojourn wherever he pleases

As long as his fierce glare does not bother you
My long dark tresses beckon to you
Come, I will protect you from the heat
By means of the shade of my eyelashes
By means of the shade of my eyelashes
86
Phirtay hain hum akaylay

Baahon main koee lay lay
Aakhir koee kahan tak
Tanhaee-yon say khaylay
Din ho-gaye ham zaalim
Raatain hain qaatilana
Raatain hain qaatilana
Yeh raat, yeh qaamoshee

Yeh khaab kay nazaray
Jugnoon hain, ya zameen par
Utray hu-ay hain taaray?
Baykhaab meri ankhain
Madhosh hai zamana
Madhosh hai zamana
Mausam hai aashiqatia
87
I wander about desolately, forlorn

Wishing someone would take me into his arms
How long is one expected to endure
To playwith loneliness
The days appear cruelly devoid of meaning
The nights are devastating
The nights are devastating
This night, this total silence

These strange, dreamlike surroundings
Are those glow-worms on the grass
Or have the stars descended to earth?
My eyes can neither sleep nor dream
Though the world lies wrapped in deep slumber
Though the world lies wrapped in deep slumber
88
Unlike the previous lyrics, this particular song sequence takes place in the
openness of the countryside. While there are outdoor action scenes in Umrao
Jaan, and Mughl-e-Azam 's famous battle sequence was shot on a genuine plain,
this is the only lyric of the ones on which I have focused where the heroine roams
freely outdoors. As I mentioned in the previous commentary, there is a marked
contrast in both atmosphere and mood between the nocturnal dances and
Sahibjaan's delightful stroll. In the late afternoon, she splashes barefoot through
the cool water of a stream, and admires a flock of birds rising from a panoramic
view of a tree-lined horizon. Significantly, this cinematic moment represents a
temporary departure from the rigours and pressures of her professional life, and
Sahibjaan's evident pleasure at being able to roam freely while indulging in her
girlish romantic dreams is quite touching.
Sahibjaan's attraction for Saleem fuels much of the plot for the latter
portion of the film. At this relatively early stage of their association, however,
Sahibjaan is singing solus. The concord between the wordings of the lyric and her
surroundings emphasizes that the countryside may be considered a metaphor for
Sahibjaan's general feelings. As in Western poetry and song, in Eastern lyric too
the motif of the right weather being highly conducive to romance is a highly
prevalent one. The free-flowing river and the birds taking flight represent a type
of much-coveted freedom that, as Sahibjaan is only too well aware, remains
denied to the heroine at present. Certainly there are some melancholic aspects to
this lyric, but these may simply be attributed to a young girl's vulnerability and
her fear that she may never be able to cease "playing with loneliness" (as the lyric
notes: Aakhir koee kahan talc/Tanhaee-yon say khaylay).
One curious point about Pakeezah is that after this song, and then the duet
sung by Saleem and Sahibjaan "Chalo Dildar Chalo" (Come Sweetheart, Come),
89
the plot of the film takes a more serious turn, and yet there are no songs
associated with this period until the dramatic finale, "Teer-e-Nazar." Saleem is
genuinely keen on marrying Sahibjaan; however the social shame associated with
her profession is brought home so strongly to her at that juncture that she refuses
him (before the cleric who asks her if she wishes to marry Saleem) and flees.
Broken-hearted. Saleem decides to marry someone else and asks Sahibjaan to
perform at his wedding, which is when one views her final performance. The
sharp difference in theme between the flirtatious and romantic songs of the earlier
portion of the film and the semi-tragic finale, serves to render the last song even
more powerful by contrast. One must note that Saleem's suggested name for
Sahibjaan (Pakeezah) implies his total trust in her chastity, yet sadly this makes
her feel even more unworthy of him.
90
Lyric 17: Teer-e-nazar dekhain gay
Aaj hum apnee dua-on ka asar dekhain gay

Teer-e-nazar dekhain gay, zaqam-e-jigar dekhain gay
Aap to aankh milatay huay sharmatay hain

Aap to dil kay dharaknay say bhee darjaatay hain
Phir bhee yeh zid hai kay hum zaqam-e.igar dekhain gay
Pyaar karna dil-e-baytaab bura hota hai

Suntay aaye hain kay yeh khaab bura hota hai
Aaj is khaab kee taabeer magar dekhain gay
Jaan layva hai mohabbat ka samaa aaj kee raat

Shamma hoja-ay gee jal jal kay dhuaan aaj kee raat
Aaj kee raat bachain gay to seher dekhain gay

Teer-e-nazar dekhain gay...
91
Translation of Lyric 17: The barbed arrows of your glances
Today I await the answer to my prayers

I will watch for the wounds that result from barbed glances
You shy away from looking into my eyes

You seem alarmed at hearing my heart-beat
Even so, you insist on the interaction that produces love's wounds
Oh, my restless and unquiet heart, it is wrong to love

Indeed, one has been told that it is dangerous to even dream of loving
Yet today, I will see if my dream can reach its fulfillment
Tonight, love's amorous atmosphere will sap me of all life

The candle of my passions will burn until only ashes and smoke remain
If I survive tonight, perhaps I shall see tomorrow's daybreak
But I will watch for the wounds that result from barbed glances
The barbed arrows of your glances
92
This performance, where Sahibjaan dances at Saleem's "wedding," is

undoubtedly the most dramatically stunning and magnificent one in the entire
film. Spurned by Sahibjaan, even though he was prepared to marry her regardless
of her background, Saleem requests (by means of a written invitation) that she
dance at his wedding, and she complies. The reasons as to why he makes this
request are never clearly explained. It is unlikely that he would have done so in
order to deliberately torment herthe film portrays him as a fundamentally
decent individualalthough this certainly provides Sahibjaan with the means by
which she can give full expression through the medium of dance and song to the
fact that she feels betrayed. This is quite ironic because a much stronger case can
be made claiming that it is she who betrayed him. An interesting related point is
that Saleem has, until this point, never seen Sahibjaan dance. Thus, he has not
viewed a true demonstration of her talent (necessarily associated with the social
lowliness of her profession). Ideally, one assumes that he would not want her to
dance in public, since he still feels a deep affection for her. Perhaps the desire to
watch his beloved dance overrides the concern that the performance would be
rather painful for both of them. One must note here that Saleem's household is an
eminently respectable one, and the performance must therefore be considered as a
fine theatrical entertainment that is part of the wedding festivities, rather than a
simple mujra (courtesan's performance).
This is indeed the case. Saleem looks wretched throughout the entire
dance sequence, and Sahibjaan dances giving vent to her grief and suppressed
rage. In terms of costumes, the tragic aspect of the scenario is further intensified
by Sahibjaan's being dressed entirely in whitethe colour of mourning and
widowhood, as well as the colour of purity ("Purity"IPakeezah was the name that
Saleem gave her during their ill-fated marriage ceremony). The reason that the
93
lyrics break off abruptly is because Sahibjaan raises her veil and notices that
Saleem, unable to bear any more of the performance, has left the mehfil. In
delirium, Sahibjaan's repressed anguish rises to the surface of her thoughts and
she knocks over a set of tail glass lamps. As the glass shatters across the snow-
white carpet, she begins to dance forcefully with bare feet across the shards,
thereby leaving a set of bloody footprints in her wake. On a literary level, this
may easily be read as a metaphor for the wedding-nightwith the final dance
representing a type of symbolic deflowering of Sahibjaan's innocence.
The horrified spectators rise to their feet, and as an utterly spent Sahibjaan
collapses into her aunt's arms, Nawabjaan, who (recognizes the residence as one
where her sister had previously performed) rises to her feet. In a tone that is as
(justifiably) contemptuous as it is majestic she cries out (to Saleem's uncle):
"Shahabuddin! ... Behold the blood of your very own daughter!" The mystery of
Sahibjaan's true parentage is finally revealed to all concerned. Saleem's father
still the outraged patriarchshoots at the girl and her aunt, but the bullet strikes
her father, Shahabuddin. In an emotionally traumatic scene, Saleem brokenly sobs
to his dying uncle that he will honourably wed his legitimate cousin. Yet,
although these revelations are a turning point in altering Sahibjaan's social status
to an unquestionably respectable one, her marriage takes place at the kothathe
only true home she has ever known. This is because Nawabjaan correctly
emphasizes that Nargis and Shahabuddin's daughter will only achieve true
respectability if the bridegroom's entire party comes to the kotha and claims her
as a bride there.
94
Lyric 18: Chalo dildar chalo
Chalo dildar chalo, chand kay paar chalo

Hum hain tayyar chalo, hum hain tayyar chalo
Aao khojaayain sitaron mein kaheen

Chorh dain aaj yeh duniya, yeh zameen
Yeh duniya, yeh zameen
Chalo dildar chalo
Hum nashain mein hain sumbhalow humain turn

Neend aatee haijaga to humain turn
Jaga to humain turn
Chalo dildar chalo
Zindagi khatm hhi hojaayay agar

Na khatm ho kabhi ulfat ka safar
Ulfat ka safar
Chalo dildar chalo, chand kay paar chalo
Hum hain tayyar chalo
95
Translation of Lyric 18: Come sweetheart, come
Come sweetheart, come, let us travel beyond the moon

I am ever-ready, let us proceed, let us proceed
Come let us lose ourselves somewhere in the stars

And leave this earth and this world far behind us
This earth, this world
Come sweetheart, come
I am in a state of [love-induced] intoxication, hold me carefully

Sleep overcomes me; I want you to wake me
Wake me
Come sweetheart, come
Regardless of whether life comes to an end

Let the journey of our love's passion continue for ever
The journey of our love's passion
Come sweetheart, come let us travel beyond the moon
I am ever-ready, let us proceed, let us proceed
96
I have arranged the lyrics and translations in this text in the order in which
they appear over the course of the films. In the case of this particular one,
however, I have taken the liberty of placing it at the conclusion of my group of
Pakeezah songs. This song sequence takes place earlier than "Teer-e-Nazar" in
the film, when Saleem and Sahibjaan are still in the first thrilling romantic stages
of early love. The ending of Pakeezah is bittersweet, primarily due to the demise
of Saleem's uncle and the rather anticlimactic mood of the wedding itself. I
believe that although the film as a whole is indeed bittersweet, "Chalo dildar
chalo" best encapsulates the overarching romantic yearnings of Sahibjaan and the
fulfillment of her youthful dreams of love. Moreover, it makes several references
to the concept of journeying together through life which is what the couple
prepares to do at the close of the film. Rivers lit by moonlight, with boats gliding
serenely along give rise to charming, albeit unrealistic, images of the lovers
sailing towards the lunar realms. By the end of the story both hero and heroine are
too emotionally shaken to be able to live consistently within idealistic dreams;
however, this particular song captures the essence of their affection for one
another. One should make note of the fact that this is the only duet in this entire
collection of lyrics. This is because in films where the presence of the heroine
comes across as uncommonly strong, duets are much rarer than in other romantic
films.
I have commented in considerable detail already on romantic aspects of
Sahibjaan's personality. On many levels, however, she is also an embodiment of
girlish innocence; the fact that she is a dancing girl does not, ironically enough,
detract from this, and the name given to her "Pakeezah" (meaning "pure") is an
apt one. Dancing-girl though she may be, Pakeezah's virginity has been closely
guarded by her strong and protective aunt, whose temperament is far more
97
hardened and cynical than that of her sister and niece who are depicted in the film
as prone to a greater sensitivity of spirit and much more passionate emotive
longings. Yet the heroine's innocence goes beyond mere physical virginity, she is
psychologically unsullied and untainted insofar as her ideas of true love are
concerned. While this navet proved to be Nargis' undoing, her daughter, thanks
to the plot machinations of the film, is more fortunate.
In a strange and oblique way the concept mentioned in this lyric that the
journey of love (u/fat ka safar) survives beyond death may be tied to the final
shots of the film where it is Pakeezah's former lifestyle that dies, a notion that
gains focus from a poignant image of the aunt standing at the kotha watching as
her niece is lifted in a palanquin and taken to her husband's home. It is unlikely
that Saleem and Pakeezah's journey through married life will be as blissful as the
metaphoric journey that "Chalo dildar chalo" is about; however, one must
undoubtedly appreciate that the film as a whole is nothing if not grimly realistic in
many ways, and thus it is understandable that the actual ending comes across as a
qualifiedly happy one. Still, it represents a triumphant return to her roots for
Pakeezah.
99
Index of Urdu and Poorbi titles
Title: Page:
Baykas pay karam keel lye Sarkar-e-Madina 56
Chalo dildar chalo 94
Chaltay Chaltay 80
Di! cheez kya hai, aap merijaan leejiye 16
In aankhon ki mastee kay 20
Inhee logan nay lay leena dupatta mera 72
Jub mat hai aisi matwaali 60
Justajoo jis ki thi 28
Khuda nigehbaan ho tumhara 66
Mausam hai aashiquana 84
Mohabbat kijhooti kahanee pay roay 48
Mohay panghat pay Nandlal 38
Pyaar kiya to darna kiya 52
Teer-e-nazar dekhain gay 90
Teri mehfil main qismat aazma kar 42
Tha-re rahiyo, ho baan-ke-yaar 76
Yeh kya jagay hai doston 32
Zindagi jab bhi teri bazm main 24

101
Index of English titles
Title: Page:
Come sweetheart, come 95
Friends, what is this place 33
Have mercy on this poor wretch, Lord of Madina 57
I must come and test my destiny in your company 43
I wept at the falsity within my love-story 49
Lord Krishna at my watering-place 39
May God be your guardian 67
My heart is but a trifle, I would willingly give you my life 17
Tarry a moment, my handsome lover 77
That for which I was searching 29
The atmosphere is sensual 85
The barbed arrows of your glances 91
The enticement of these eyes 21
These are the very people who have taken away my veil from me 73
When one has loved, what is there to fear? 53
When this night is so heady 61
Whenever life entices me towards your orbit 25
While walking 81
Nadya Q. Chishty-Mujahid
Dr. Nadya Q. Chishty-Mujahid is Assistant Professor of English and

Comparative Literature at the American University in Cairo, Egypt. Dr. Chishty-
Mujahid holds a Ph.D. in English Literature from McGill University in Montreal,
Quebec, Canada.

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THE DANCING BELOVED

ii SOUTH A,711AN LYRIC FILM

The Edwin Mellen Press

Front cover art: Anarkali by A. R. Chughtai [Abdur Rahman Chughtai]

Copyright 2010 Nadya Q. Chishty-Mujahid

All rights reserved. For information contact

The Edwin Mellen Press The Edwin Mellen Press

The Edwin Mellen Press, Ltd.

Printed in the United States of America

Foreword by Shahnaz Ahsanuddin

Introduction to the plots of the films Umrao Jaan,

Translations and Wordings of the Lyrics with Individual

Index of Urdu and Poorbi titles 99

Index of English titles 101

"Kotha" (dancing house) culture in Lucknow and Delhi conjures up

technology can alter the ways in which we perceive narrative, characterisation,

Shahnaz Ahsanuddin, M.A. (Cantab)

Assistant Headmistress & Co-ordinator Counselling

As always I would like to begin by thanking the helpful and thoroughly

Nadya Chishty-Mujahid, PhD.

The original inspiration behind these translations stemmed from my

Translations and Wordings of the Lyrics with Individual

As compared to Alughl-e-Azam, and Pakeezah, the most noticeable feature

Lyric 1: Dil cheez kya hai, aap merijaan leejiye

Dil cheez kya hai, aap meri jaan leejiye

is anjuman main aap ko, aana hai baar baar

Maana kay doston ko nahin dosti ka paas

Kahiye to aasmaan ko zamin par utaar laa-ain

Dil cheez kya hai, aap meri jaan leejiye

Translation of Lyric 1: My heart is but a trifle, I would willingly give you my

My heart is but a trifle, I would willingly give you my life

If you request, I will bring the sky down to the earth

My heart is but a trifle, I would willingly give you my life

This is the lyric that notably introduces Umrao talentwhich

studded with sequins, or embroidered with gold thread (historically speaking,

Lyric 2: In aankhon ki mastee kay

In aankhon ki mastee kay, mastaanay hazaron hain

Ik turn hee nahin tanha, ulfat main meri ruswa

lk sirf hum hee main ko, aankhon say pilatay hain

Is sham-e-farozan ko aandhi say daratay ho

Translation of Lyric 2: The enticement of these eyes

Thousands are intoxicated by the enticing passion of these beautiful eyes

Only I offer the wine of passion by means of my mesmeric glances

Tempestuous gales cannot threaten this luminous candle

As opposed to the theme of active seduction that runs throughout the

Umrao's ability to "offer the wine of passion by means of [her] mesmeric

Lyric 3: Zindagi jab bhi ten bazm main

Zindagi jab bhi teri bazm main laati hai humain

Surq phoolon say mehek uthteen hain dil kee rahain

Yaad teri dasta/ kabhi sargoshi say

Har mulaqaat ha anjaam judaee kyoon hai

Translation of Lyric 3: Whenever life entices me towards your orbit

Whenever life entices me towards the orbit of your presence

Oh why does every meeting have to end with us parting

Lyric 4: Justajoo jis ki thi

Justajoojis ki thi, us ko to na payaa hum nain

Tujh ko ruswa na kiya, khud bhi pashaymaan na huay

Kab mike thi, kahan bichree thi, humain yaad nahin

Ai Ada, aur suna-ay bhi to kya haal apna

Translation of Lyric 4: That for which I was searching

I was unable to obtain that for which I was constantly searching

Oh Life: when did we meet, when did we part, it escapes my memory

Lyric 5: Yeh kya jagay hai doston

Yeh kya jagay hai doston, yeh kaun sa dayaar hai