Just Like That | The people’s poet who bridged divides through lyrical simplicity

Nida Fazli's work, influenced by both Sufi and Bhakti traditions, resonated with audiences across linguistic and cultural divides

Certain lines of great poets become noteworthy quotes, which even those who are not followers of poetry, know well. One such couplet, which falls in this category is: “Kabhi kisi ko muqammal jahan nahin milta, kabhi zameen tau kabhi aasman nahin milta” (No one always gets a world that lacks nothing; sometimes the ground is with you, sometimes the sky is missing). The author of these lines is one of modern India’s most accomplished and loved poets: Nida Fazli.

Renowned lyricist and urdu poet Nida Fazli .(HT FILE PHOTO)

Fazli was born in 1938 in New Delhi. Hailing from a Kashmiri Muslim family, he grew up and studied in Gwalior. In 1965, eighteen years after Partition, his family migrated to Pakistan. He was the only one among them who decided not to go. At that time, he had just moved to Mumbai to pursue his career as a poet. It is interesting, and also perhaps revealing of why he chose to stay in India, that Fazli’s first inspiration to write poetry came from none other than Surdas. As a young lad, he was passing a temple where a Surdas bhajan was being sung. The lines of the composition described the agony of Radha on being separated from Lord Krishna. Viraha geet, which reflects the mood of being parted from a loved one, forms an entire genre of bhakti poetry, sung by Radha and the gopis after Krishna leaves Vrindavan. The sheer poetic genius and pathos of the bhajan had a deep impact on the impressionable mind of Fazli, and he resolved to start writing poetry.

It is perhaps for this reason that Fazli’s poetry has a lyrical simplicity that is easily comprehensible, even to an audience not well-versed in Urdu. Sample, for instance, this well-known couplet by Fazli, sung by Jagjit Singh: “Duniya jise kehte hain jadoo ka khilona hai, mil jaaye tau mitti hai kho jaaye tau sona hai” (What you call this world is like a magical toy; like mud when you have it, but like gold if lost). He also wrote lyrics for several films, and they too had this immediate resonance with people. Among his most popular compositions is for the film Aap To Aise Na The (1980): “Tu is tarah se mere zindagi mein shaamil hai: jahaan bhi jaoon ye lagta hai teri mehfil hai” (You are part of my life is such a way, that wherever I go it seems you are not away). Another very popular lyric was from the film Sarfarosh (1999): “Hosh walon ko khabar kya be-khudi kya chiiz hai, ishq kiije phir samajhiye zindagi kya chiiz hai” (How can those always sober know what oblivion is; fall in love and understand what living is). This too was sung by Jagjit Singh.

Nida Fazli, in fact, dared to question the need for the highly Persianised Urdu of some popular and talented poets, such as Sahir Ludhianvi, Ali Sardar Jafri and Kaifi Azmi. Frankly, I greatly admire all three, but that is beside the point. The important thing is that as a relative newcomer to the established hierarchy of Urdu poetry, and films, he was unafraid to voice his point of view, and was prepared to suffer the consequences, which did, indeed, follow, when he was more or less boycotted from prominent mushairas. It was only when noted film director, Kamal Amrohi, approached him to write the last two songs for the film Razia Sultan (1983), that he got some rehabilitation.

Fazli was, like many great Urdu-Hindustani poets, a Sufi by temperament and choice. He was firmly against religious fundamentalism, and religious divisiveness. On issues of religion, he wrote with conviction but also with his direct and characteristic simplicity. In compositional structure, many of these were in the format of the doha. Among my favourites are: “Wo sufi ka qual ho ya pandit ka gyaan, jitni biite aap par utna hi sach maan” (Be it the Sufi’s promise, or knowledge the pandit flaunts, what you actually went through is the only truth that counts). Or this one: “Baccha bola dekh kar masjid aali-shaan, Allah tere ek ko itna bada makaan” (Seeing the moques’s grandeur the child spontaneously said, for just one Allah what a palatial home). The influence of Kabir is obvious.

Fazli was the recipient of numerous awards, including the Padma Shri in 2013. He died of a heart attack on February 8, 2016, at the age of 77. That day also would have been the 75th birthday of Jagjit Singh (who passed away in October 2011) with whom he had frequently — and very successfully — collaborated. Fazli will always be remembered as a people’s poet, who stood for peace, coexistence, and mutual respect among all religions, for which he was awarded the National Harmony Award. An India torn by religious strife was anathema to him. We need to remember this doha-couplet of his, of what would happen to India if this was ever to happen: “Naqsha le kar haath mein baccha hai hairaan, kaise deemak kha gai uska Hindustan” (Holding the map of India the child wonders, how could termites eat away her Hindustan?)

Pavan K Varma is author, diplomat, and former Member of Parliament (Rajya Sabha). Just Like That is a weekly column where Varma shares nuggets from the world of history, culture, literature, and personal reminiscences. The views expressed are personal