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Ghazals in English
Ghazals in English
- by Jafar Abbas
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To many of us the very idea of writing ghazals in English may sound hopelessly
impossible, almost scandalous! Those of us, who have developed an appreciation for this
subtle and elusive art form through ghazals in Arabic, Persian, Turkish, or Urdu, may be
inclined to believe that the English language (and culture) does not lend itself very well
to this form of expression and cannot do justice to this form of poetry.
Let us find out to what extent we are justified in this belief.
In recent years, quite a few English language poets have been attracted to the ghazal and
have experimented with this form with varying degrees of success. A recently published
anthology titled Ravishing Dis-Unities – Real Ghazals in English edited by Agha Shahid
Ali includes the work of no less than 107 contemporary poets! (Fascination with this
enchanting art form seems to be quite widespread). Ali's lively introduction gives a brief
history of the ghazal and instructions on how to compose one in English. In an elegant
afterword, Sarah Suleri Goodyear elucidates the larger issues of cultural translation and
authenticity inherent in writing in a "borrowed" form.
A quick survey of the literature on the subject indicates that quite a few of the poets are
still stuck in debates over the "mechanics" of the ghazal. While one group advocates a
strict adherence to the traditional requirements of the ghazal, such as qafia, radeef, baher,
matla', maqta', takhallus, etc., others find the form too restrictive and demand freedom
from one or more of these constraints. Also, there has been much discussion as to which
themes are "appropriate" for ghazals. Much has been made of the apparent lack of
thematic unity in the ghazal, which has been misunderstood and misrepresented as
"jumps between couplets". These "jumps" have been deemed to be one of the essential
and defining elements of the ghazal, and what's more, the juxtaposition of these
seemingly unrelated couplets has been termed "surrealistic"! Also, there has been an
interesting discussion as to whether or not a ghazal should have a title. To my mind, all
these discussions indicate a rather superficial understanding of this subtle and complex
art form.
In fact, the ghazal presents the poet with a unique set of challenges and opportunities. It's
just not enough to understand the requirements of qafia (monorhyme), radif (refrain), and
various bahers (meters); a much deeper understanding of the mizaaj of the ghazal (it's
uniquely distinctive nature) is required.
Much of the beauty and moving power of the couplets come from their naazuk-khayaali
(delicacy of thought and feeling) and epigrammatic terseness. Also, as Eric Folsom
observes: "among the couplets a strong underground connection does and must exist, but
the association is beyond words, beyond our ability to articulate except in so far as the
poem itself articulates…The trick, in my estimation, is to let each couplet stand as an
object, perfected and twisted to its own individual end … and then see what calls to it.
What voice in the lonely night would answer such an image?" The true measure of a
ghazal is its saleeqah or the way a thing is said or not said, or what is left unsaid.
It is to be seen how well the poets do understand the true nature of the ghazal and how
well they can exploit the natural rhythm and felicity of the language to achieve that
distinctive quality called taghazzul, that heightened yet subdued lyricism which is the
hallmark of a good ghazal.
Read the ghazals in the anthology and decide for yourself as to what extent these writers
have succeeded in this difficult endeavor. Only time will tell whether this transplanted art
form will take root and flourish on this fertile alien soil or just wither away.
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