Saturday, 19 January 2013

40 Days with God – Love and Fear


Ever since I posted the article about the experience of actually ‘being there’ at Kaaba many people have over emails or personally talked about how they had a similar experience of having a practiced list of things to seek from God, but once in the presence of the deity having forgotten everything and simply returned with a bowed head and a light heart. Interestingly they belonged to different religions and sects each with his/her own deity or pilgrimage.

How then is my religion different from anyone else’s if our experiences are same? Could there really be different religions? We will continue to understand religion as we go along.
To understand, one needs to explore, to have, as we said in an earlier chapter, the ‘talab’. And for those on a quest to learn there is no dearth of questions. By the end of the first week I was confronted with the question of what is right behavior? To leave my wife and go to offer prayers or to accompany her but miss some part of it? To cry in private or allow the tears to flow publicly, because that would be tantamount to putting ones faith on display which is forbidden.

Is it the burden of the conscientious to be forever in doubt about right and wrong?

I don’t know.

And that was the overwhelming feeling towards the end of the first week. That I didn’t know the answers to so many questions; that I didn’t know whether I was taking the right decision or not and I didn’t know, with all due respect to our scholarly guide, whether he or anyone else would be able to understand my dilemmas and guide me. It was then that I understood what one truly needs to seek from the Lord when one is in His presence – Hidayat (guidance), Hikmat (wisdom), Ilm (knowledge) and Imaan (faith).

If we have this in true measure life would be so simple to live.

The first week at Makkah, as I have narrated earlier was a continuous process of gratitude and forgiveness and the natural tears that flowed from the realization of God’s graciousness and your own wrongdoings. After every such bout of crying, which was frequent in the first week, there would be a feeling of deep relaxation, of having shed a small burden. By the end of the week though, I began to worry about the intensity becoming diluted and the tears drying up. After all how long can one continue to be impacted by the same experience?

There was no need to worry. I should have rather, as one of my trainers at a coaching workshop long ago emphasized, trusted the process.

Sometime during the second week I suddenly realized that I loved the word of Allah on my lips. I have to admit that while I knew that jikr or chanting the name of God is a preferred act any time, I would do it either mechanically or due to the religious decree. There was a lack of feeling or belief in it. I couldn't see how it helped. Suddenly now I realized I loved taking that name – there was no logic or reasoning – just simple, plain liking.

I don’t know how or why that happened but when I think on hindsight I feel that when one is filled with penitence and gratitude it is only natural to eventually feel love. And what pleasure it is when you do something not for reward or fear of punishment but from a feeling of pure love?

I realized that day what the Sufi’s mean by ‘rab da ishq’ – the love of the Lord. When all you want is your beloved’s name on your lips and her sight in your eyes. When you raise your hands to the ears at the beginning of the namaaz saying ‘muh mera taraf kaaba sharief key’ (I start my prayer facing the kaaba) and raise your eyes to see the Kaaba actually in front of you – nothing can match that start. And then when you bow down in sijdaah (prostration) you do not want to rise up again, wanting the forehead to stay in contact with that holy land and the heart in total subjugation to God. That feeling is like no other.

And I questioned myself whether I had ever loved my wife, my parents with the same intense love that I now felt. Or was I only expecting such love in return? How happy would life be if one were to bring such love in all the relationships?

That evening though a new doubt awaited me. In his routine discourse after dinner our guide said that a true Muslim lived his life between the Love and Fear of Allah.

How can Love co-exist with Fear? They appear such contrasting emotions. When you love someone so completely where was the need to fear? How could the Prophet and his followers who were already blessed spend nights in contrition and fear?

The answer wasn't difficult to discover. If your boss told you at the beginning of the year that he was so impressed by the way you work that he had already marked you as ‘outstanding’ in the appraisal system, you would fear that nothing you did that year should make him change his impression. The higher the reward, the greater would be the sense of responsibility and the fear of wrongdoing. And thus the blessed would in fact be more afraid and contrite than anyone else.

The fear was not about losing the reward – that had been already marked in the ‘system’. The fear would be about losing the trust which your boss had reposed by taking that decision. And that is a much heavy but enabling fear which helps you take the difficult but right decisions when the wrong is so easy and desirable.

And this love and fear only can lighten the burden of the conscientious.

The gratitude and remorse of the first week had led to love and fear in the second. As the third and final week in Makkah arrived it started to turn into panic.

Had I done enough to achieve the objective with which I had set out – rab ko raazi karna – to seek Gods consensus. In one week I would be leaving the house of God. There was not much time to seek an answer to that critical question.

Saturday, 5 January 2013

40 Days with God – Getting under the surface


We started this series with the intention of trying to understand the process, the ‘how’ of how a pilgrimage has the power to transform, to make you as pure as a newborn. It has taken us four chapters to just reach the physical destination of the pilgrimage, but that was because preparation and planning are so essential to achieving any goal.

The Quran says (in Sura-al-Fatir) that ‘those who plan badly have to bear its consequences.’ Now how much of that relates to Project Management practices? And we thought that religious texts only prescribe to religion and God. One of the interesting realizations during this journey was comprehension of the term ‘religion’. We will come to that during the course of our journey.

I had taken along with me an 800 page volume of the transliteration of the Holy Quran thinking that without any personal and professional obligations I would have enough time on my hands to read a few chapters every day. I was wrong. Inside the Haram (as the grand mosque is normally referred to) you don’t have to do anything to spend time.

Circumambulating the Kaaba (called tawaaf), or walking the seven rounds between the Mountains of Safa and Marwah (called saee) or simply sitting in front of the Kaaba with all the time to yourself, your life starts playing itself in your memory. And it always begins with a single thought; what was the good you did that God bestowed on you this great privilege of being at the place where so much history has been created by such revered people.

And you struggle to identify one honest good deed. What instead come to mind easily are the various wrongdoings; the times when you were angry with your spouse or parents, or envious of a friend’s success or hurt someone because you were upset, often due to your own lacking. There are enough times you realize where you behaved in a manner that your conscious knew, at that time or a little later, wasn’t exactly the right behavior.

Every action of the body first begins as a thought in the mind. If the root (or intent) of that thought is pure the action is likely to be good. We had a scholar as our tour guide – a PhD in Islamic Studies from the University of Madina. He told us that every amal (deed / action) had to be performed with the sole intent of pleasing God. Was there a single deed I had done which could strictly satisfy that criteria – because every success, every good deed, every charity I could think of was somewhere deep down rooted in self-pride, fame or fear.

Whether it is the great sanctity of the place or the unfettered time you get to yourself, it becomes easy to get under the veneer of your own self and you begin to discover your true intent which neither your boss nor your friends or family may have ever come to know about. There is no one in that loneliness to try and impress but you and God and how many lies can you tell your own self?

You realize that in that hitherto unaccessed recess of your heart and mind lay a lot of garbage which you would never have been able to reach otherwise. And your hands automatically rise in repentance and forgiveness that is genuine to the core. It is only such forgiveness which can clean some of that internal garbage and start making you pure.

The sanctity of the place demands reverence. Every good deed done in Makkah, the Holy book says, fetches you a hundred thousand times more in reward. At the same time, every wrong deed or even wrong intent fetches you a similarly high punishment. Leaving the arithmetic apart what it means is that one has to be constantly aware and conscious of one’s intent and not just the deed. It reinforces mindfulness and taqwa and helps in the journey of self-discovery.

And you realize being good also is not as simple especially when the conflict is between two goods.

It is the first Friday in Makkah and I am conscious of going to Haram early to get a vantage place for the afternoon congregation prayers from where I can see the Head Priest reciting the sermon. But my wife who has had a long night doesn’t share my eagerness and is taking her own time getting ready in our hotel room. We get only 3 Friday’s in Makkah and I am getting fidgety and anxious as she takes time with the morning chores. I am not able to decide whether I should leave for the mosque alone letting her come on her own whenever she is ready or stay back and accompany her. Whether my duty as a muhrim (i.e. one accompanying a female relative) means I have to wait for her even if it means having to forego a lifetime opportunity? Which is a greater duty to adopt since both are prescribed by religion and which one needs to be sacrificed?

For the conscientious there could be so many questions. Is it the burden of the conscientious to be continuously in doubt about one’s choices? Is being continuously aware and mindful of one’s choices a more stressful way of living?

We will talk about more such questions in our chapter next week.

Thursday, 20 December 2012

40 Days with God – Being There


How does it feel to reach a destination, to finally experience the thing one has been intensely waiting for all along?

Wonder, Fear and Gratitude.

We reached our hotel in Makkah at 5 am in the morning. What a feeling of wonder it is to be present in a new city, in a new world that is outside your daily world of existence; a place you have only read about but never been. The bus dropped us in front of our hotel and all along that street we could make out neon lights of more hotels. In front of each hotel on the pavement were piled up loads of luggage emptied by busses ferrying the pilgrims from Jeddah. Ours we were told will reach our room. There was the natural tendency to worry that something may get lost, that someone on the street will run away with our bag. Our tour manager reassured us that the hotel staff will take care.

I recalled what our trainer at a Transformation workshop I had attended earlier that year had said, “When you have 100% faith, you have 0% worry,” and realized how difficult that is in practice, especially when your possessions are at stake.

The Masjid-al-Haram inside which the Kaaba is situated is only 200 meters down the road we are told. You are in your hotel room with only a rocky mountain and some dilapidated buildings visible from the lone window, but to realize you are so near to your object of reverence puts the entire being into a sense of high alert. The test of patience and endurance continues – there are only 3 lifts to ferry 220 tired people over 13 floors, but you are automatically mindful of your every action. God somehow is more nearer than ever.

We did not want to do our first ever darshan (one call always write ‘sighting’ in English, but certain words in certain languages imply a connotation, express a feeling so close to the experience that no other word in any other language describes it better) of Kaaba in the exhausted state we were in so we decided to have some sleep, refresh ourselves and then visit the holiest of all mosques in Islam.

At 10:00 in the morning we are ready. How does a groom feel on the wedding day? A deep desire that nothing goes wrong for this only ever event of his life. There are great blessings to be derived from the first ever sighting of the Kaaba and thus in every training program before embarking on the pilgrimage we were given detailed instructions on how to enter the mosque, how to look at Kaaba for the first time, which duas (prayers) to recite etc. I picked up the book where I had written down all these things and did one more revision. It was time to fulfill the cherished dream.

The Masjid-al-Haram (haram in Arabic means ‘sanctuary’ or ‘holy site’) covers an area of 356,000 sq meters and can accommodate around 900,000 worshippers at any given time. Currently it has 96 gates (expansion work is in progress.) At the centre of this mosque, in an open courtyard (called the ‘mataf’) is the Kaaba – the cuboid shaped structure which all Muslims – irrespective of their sects, creeds and other beliefs turn towards when offering namaaz. Built by Prophet Ibrahim (Abraham) and his son Ismail (Ishmael) in 2130 BC and later consecrated by Prophet Muhammed in 630 AD the Kaaba is the most revered structure in Islam not just because of its religious and historical significance but also in its message of unifying all Muslims in the worship of a single God.

The risk in following process very diligently is that you can miss out on the feeling. We entered Masjid-al-Haram from Gate No 1. The process said that as you enter the mosque you should keep your eyes lowered in respect till you come to the center from where you can see the Kaaba. Then slowly you should raise your eyes reciting your most cherished prayers because it is ordained that whatever you wish from the moment you lay your eyes the Kaaba for the first time till the time you blink again will be fulfilled.

The huge mosque is half empty at that time in the morning. As we enter with our eyes lowered we do not know how far the centre is. After walking about 100 meters we look up with a natural curiosity, see the Kaaba partially then look down again quickly because we are still some distance away from the centre which we now see is to be approached through a flight of stairs leading down.

Have I messed up my first ever sighting of this holy structure? Have I missed this rare opportunity in my life to fulfill all my cherished wishes?

The fear almost leads to panic. We finally reach the stairs, take the few steps down and right in front of us, in all its silent splendor is the magnificent stone structure draped in a dark black cloth (called the kiswa) with verses from the Holy Quran inscribed in gold letterings near the top.

I try to remember my choicest wishes, all the prescribed duas which I had repeated so many times and learnt by rote, but in that moment of infinite reverence I can’t recall any of them. I just stand there inundated with a huge sense of gratitude, of unlimited thankfulness to the Almighty for having brought me here, for showing me what I was seeing.

And then the tears flow effortlessly and naturally. And you don’t pray for anything else except for forgiveness. Because you realize that there is nothing you have ever done in life, nothing you could have ever done in life that would have ‘earned’ you this great fortune of being at this place. That you are here not on your merit but because of the sheer benevolence of someone who has the great mercy to forgive you and grant you this ultimate privilege.

And despite the harsh afternoon sun on your uncovered head, despite the heat and the exhaustion you just sit there sobbing your heart in your open palms oblivious of anything around you.

There is no greater relief than crying to your heart’s content.

[Next week we will try to understand ‘how’ a cycle of gratitude and forgiveness can lead to purification and lightness of being]

Saturday, 1 December 2012

40 Days with God – Getting Away from it all


Advancement in communications technology means one can always stay connected from anywhere. It also means one can never get away.

A pilgrimage is about getting away – getting away from family, work, everything worldly and spending time in communion with self and God.

It is vital to plan that. Almost all my time before embarking on the trip was spent trying to bring my work to a logical end and hand over, visit my children’s school, ensure provisions are stocked at home for the period, pay credit card bills for the month and next etc. anything that was likely to come up in the next 6 weeks. The idea was 0 phones from office during the trip and the odd weekly call with family.

When I sat at Mumbai airport waiting for the flight to Jeddah the predominant emotion was not of awe or excitement but fatigue and a sense of fear – fear of whether I had prepared enough. Because the one thing one didn’t want to come back with after undertaking a journey like this was regret; the regret of having not given it your best.

For a person entering Makkah with the intent of performing Haj (or Umrah) it is essential to get into a state of ihram (consecration) at the defined meeqat or boundary. The boundary when you are flying in from India comes before Jeddah i.e. you fly over it and hence one normally gets into the state of ihram at the airport itself.

It is critical to understand the significance and purpose of ihram because it is amongst the three compulsory conditions for Haj. Ihram is derived from the Arabic harama (to prohibit) and in English means consecration or sanctification for a special purpose or service, usually religious. Consecration has the same root as the word ‘sacred’ and literally means to get sacred, to dedicate oneself to the service of God.

Hence before entering the state of ihram a person has to take a bath, clip the nails and remove the hair from the armpit and pubes. Then the male needs to discard his clothes and adorn two sheets of plain white, unstitched clothing, one to be wrapped around the loins, another to be worn over the shoulder.  The purpose of this is twofold:

First is universal brotherhood. Our clothes form the last vestige of our social status. By discarding our clothes we also discard our social status and thus when every Haji presents himself in only these two pieces of unstitched white all appear equal with no distinction of caste, creed, nationality or social or financial status.

The second and more spiritual significance implies the giving up of the world. The white clothes resemble the shroud or the kafan, the clothes in which we will be wrapped after death. We have already left behind our family, our work and our properties and wealth to undertake this journey. By wearing the ihram we get into a state of ‘virtual death’ and this state of the mind makes it conducive to distance ourselves from worldly matters and look at life for the temporary endeavor that it is. This mindset helps in recalling our sins and seeking genuine forgiveness when we pray at Kaaba.

There are thus restrictions in a state of ihram; you are prohibited to kill animals including insects, pluck leaves, remove body hair or apply fragrance, engage in intimate dialogue with your spouse etc.

There are also two virtues which are essential not only in the state of ihram but during the entire trip for the Haj to be deemed acceptable by God; patience and service. You are thus not supposed to engage in arguments and wrangling, be tolerant of any hardships and provide assistance to your fellow travelers.

The ideals seem desirous and the heart longs to follow them, but you realize what a challenge it can be the moment you land at Jeddah airport; it is midnight (2:30 am IST,) you are exhausted and desperately longing for your hotel bed, but there are numerous procedures to clear. And there are thousands of pilgrims from all parts of the world, each with a different temperament – quite, obstinate, short-tempered, over-smart, and each as tired and desperate for sleep as you are.

And the young men at the counter are college students drafted especially for the Haj season who have to stay at the airport barracks and report for 16 hours of duty. They are generally courteous and respectful of the Haji, but need their breaks and have their frustrations with people who have never flown before and understand neither English nor Arabic.

In this conundrum of people, process and paucity lies the true test of your character; how tolerant are you of the officer who walks out for a break just when your turn came after half an hour of waiting? How willing are you to give up your seat for a family and wait for the next bus to Makkah?

And then you realize that in such circumstances, which will be often during the journey, it is only taqwa – the continuous consciousness of what is right – and mindfulness – an awareness of your own state of mind – that will help you stay in control of your emotions and guide you to act in the desired manner.

And you realize how 40 days of such deliberate consciousness can help you imbibe some of these principles for your life hereafter; of how a pilgrimage has the potential to transform if done as prescribed.

[Next week we will realize one of the most cherished objectives of our journey; to see the Kaaba right in front of our eyes.]

Saturday, 24 November 2012

40 Days with God – Neeyat, Taqwa and Talab


Everything begins with intent.

Neeyat pe faisle hote hain,” (Decisions of the universe are based on intent)

My grandfather had quoted when I had gone to visit him at our ancestral village a few years ago. He is 85 and desperately wanted to attend the Friday congregation prayers but there was no male member at home to accompany him. As luck would have it I reached half an hour before the prayers. It was his strong intent, he believed, which ensured that the universe sent me just at the right time.

Poets, philosophers and psychologists have all talked about the role of ‘intent’ – whether in terms of belief or will-power or the ‘universe conspiring.’ But it is true that rarely anything can be achieved without having the right intent.

What is your intent of going on a pilgrimage? To become a ‘Haji’, or to comply with one obligatory requirement of religion or to ensure God is pleased with us so that our sins can be atoned – ‘rab ko raazi karna’ as our philosopher guide told us at the beginning of the journey.

What would I do if I wanted to please my boss? I would naturally want to know his likes and dislikes and base my actions accordingly. There is nothing different to be done to please God. And that is known as Taqwa – to follow what pleases God and to stay away from what would seem disobedience.

The Quran says about preparing for Haj, “…and take provisions [with you] for the journey, but the best provision is Taqwa.”

The origin of the word Taqwa is from the Arabic ‘waqaya’ meaning shield and is the verb form of ‘Ittaki’ meaning to be careful or cautious. Taqwa is thus being cautiously and consciously aware about God.

At the Leadership Lab (an Assessment Centre for Udaan, the Program Mgmt capability development initiative of RoW) which I attended a week before my Haj trip, the lead consultant, a retired Army General who moved into behavioral sciences, had emphasized the need to be mindful, of being in a constant state of awareness.

Imagine what would happen if you spent 40 days with the only intent of pleasing God, consciously aware of your every intent and action.

The third element which makes up the bhava or the mental attitude before a pilgrimage is a deep desire to achieve the outcome – the talab; for only the thirsty can be quenched, only the one on a quest can find. Talab is the Arabic word for quest or addiction. It is not a coincidence that the Arabic word for student (talib) is derived from talab.

Your talab to seek knowledge (ilm,) to perform as prescribed by trying to understand the ‘why’ will ensure that the elements conspire to make things happen the right way for you. Do you think my attending a leadership workshop that emphasized mindfulness just a week before my Haj trip was pure coincidence?

Thus with the sole intent (neeyat) to please God, consciously aware of our every action such that it is for the good and away from anything bad (taqwa) and a deep desire (talab) to attain our goal we embark on the flight to Jeddah (or to Medina as per the itinerary of your tour operator.)

Any journey undertaken with such preparation can only be magical.

[Next Monday we will aim to reach Makkah.]

Friday, 16 November 2012

40 Days with God – the spiritual experience of Haj


Everyone must go on a pilgrimage some time in their life.

We often read and hear the need to see the big picture, to view things from a broader perspective, to have a sense of gratitude – to transform. A pilgrimage provides a real life opportunity to make this possible.

When I decided to go for Haj (the obligatory pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina for every Muslim who has the requisite health and wealth) I had no idea about this. All I had in mind was that it was a necessary thing to do at least once in a lifetime and now that I was able to, I should.

The Quran says about Haj that whosoever performs the pilgrimage the way it is prescribed becomes pure like the day he was born. When I used to hear this statement in various sermons it sounded lofty, almost patronizing, the way all religious text appears when ‘read.’ The end outcomes of religious decrees are always either too lucrative or too fearful and most discourses focus on the outcome. What is rarely explained is ‘how’ our actions logically lead to these outcomes. What is needed they say, and sometimes quite conveniently, is the need to have belief or faith. But faith is easier said than believed.

Logic is the asset of an educated mind; it can also sometimes become its liability. When a logical mind doesn't see the ‘how’ it disbelieves the outcome. That is logical. The question that needs to be asked is, is it because there is no ‘how’ or is it simply because one has not yet understood the ‘how’?

During those 40 days of pilgrimage there were many moments when you start experiencing that how. I will, in the next few articles try to share that experience.

I share this because, irrespective of our religious beliefs, our age, education or financial background, there is universality in what we seek beneath all the obvious needs; peace and purity.

And there is no one more pure than a new born – s/he has no diabetes or blood pressure, no desire or need except for hunger and love, no pride or prejudice and only one expectation – to be attended to when cried. How does an adult who has ‘experienced’ life re-achieve this state of peace and purity? And how does a pilgrimage help? The answer lies in performing the pilgrimage ‘the way it is prescribed.’

A pilgrimage, as per Wikipedia is a journey or search of moral or spiritual significance. A journey generally implies travel and it is interesting to note that all quest for knowledge – whether spiritual or worldly has implied travel.  Why the travel? Travel reveals our true character. It is said that you do not know someone unless you have traveled with him. The Urdu word for travel (safar) is derived from the Arabic sufur meaning ‘to unveil’.

So what is the prescribed way for this journey? The next article will focus on how one should prepare physically, mentally and spiritually for a journey of this nature; a journey that you will supposedly undertake only once in your lifetime.

Saturday, 28 April 2012

Dil Dhoondta Hai - Jurm-e-Ulfat pe hume log sazaa dete hain


The Hindi Film Song is a powerful tool to move the story forward, to aid the narrative, and a large part of that responsibility lies with the lyricist. The lyrics, along with the composition, capture the mood of the situation – the pathos of a tragedy, the magic of a romance, the anguish of a soldier’s mother, the playfulness of a lover’s tiff. Simple words, delicately woven by the hands of a master craftsman, set to soulful tunes, sung with emotion and picturised with a feel for the situation have created moments of magic that have endured time and cultural influences. 

Few years ago I had started a column Dil Dhoondta Hai to reminisce about such masterpieces and relive those magic moments from the myriad and prolific world of Bollywood music. Inexplicably there was a gap in recent years. But hope to restart the journey with the beautiful songs of Taj Mahal where an epic romance meets sublime music and soulful lyrics to create an everlasting experience. Read the summary and do listen to the songs to experience an era and its emotions.


Movie: Taj Mahal (1963)
Director: M Sadiq
Music: Roshan
Lyricist: Sahir Ludhiyanvi
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar

Confrontations are the hallmark of drama and Bollywood has often used the song as an effective medium to accentuate it. The drama only gets more intense and the conflict larger than life when the setting is the royal court of the Mughal Emperor and the issue is love and lineage; the Emperor, angry yet restrained by his royal status and that God-like obsession to be just under all circumstance, the queen, not burdened by such compulsions letting her hatred show openly, the arrogant young prince very much in love and finally the subject of all confrontation, the prince’s beloved; poised, vulnerable and excruciatingly beautiful. What makes the drama so romantic is the seeming foolhardiness of its lead protagonist – a young woman standing up to an Empire on the sheer belief of her love.

Naushad (Mughal-E-Azam) and Roshan (Taj Mahal) both used the song very effectively to portray this confrontation, yet their style was contrasting. While Naushad used the high pitched ‘Jab Pyar Kiya to Darna Kya?’ with its echo and the ‘sheesh mahal’ glass effect building up to a high crescendo, Roshan used a more restrained and sublime style for ‘Jurm-e-ulfat pe hume log saaza dete hain’ to essentially convey the same message. Incidentally both the songs were sung by Lata Mangeshkar and would easily feature in her top 50.

The difference in style was probably necessitated by the different social status of its protagonist; while Anarkali of Mughal-E-Azam, was the daughter of a courtesan, Arjumand Banu (Beena Rai) of Taj Mahal is the daughter of the wazir and the niece of the queen herself. Prince Khurram (Pradip Kumar – later to be titled Shah Jahan in the movie after a victorious war in the Deccan) falls in love with her, but the scheming queen Noorjehan (Veena) is keen to get her daughter from her first marriage, Laadli Bano (Jabeen Jaleel) married to the prince so that she can continue to hold her power over the empire.

So Noorjehan invites Arjumand to stay at the palace only to put her under house arrest and keep a close watch on her movements. But the clever Arjumand manages to break free and uses the birthday party of Laadli Bano for a public defiance of the queen.

Dignified and composed like a royal heiress should be; the entire song is rendered by Arjumand sitting, emoting only by her face except for the closing salvo, the potency of Jurm-e-ulfat comes from its powerful lyrics. Sahir’s pen is scathing like a sword as it explores the various elements of defiance:

The mocking impudence of the opening stanza
Jurm-E-Ulfat Pe Hamen Log Sazaa Dete Hain
Kaise naadaan Hain, Sholon Ko Hawaa Dete Hain

The total commitment to Love
Hum se diwane kahin tark-e-wafa karte hain (tark karna is to forsake)
Jaan jaaye ke rahe, baat nibha Dete hain

And the complete disregard for consequences
Hume ne Dil de bhi diya, ahad-e-vafaa le bhi liya (ahad – pledge)
Aap ab Shouk se de den jo sazaa Dete hain
It is only here that Arjumand gives herself the liberty of a gesture opening the hands as if in a welcome. What can a queen do against a lover lost so completely to love?

The greatness of Taj Mahal as an album lies in the fact that each of its compositions is a soulful mix of music (Roshan), poetry (Sahir Ludhiyanvi) and flawless rendition (predominantly Rafi and Lata.)

Take the Prince’s lament on having to make do with only a photograph of his beloved:
jo baat tujh mein hai, teri tasweer mein nahee…
rangon mein tera aks dhalaa, too naa dhal sakee
saanson kee aanch jism kee khushaboo naa dhal sakee 
tujh mein jo loch hai, meri tahareer mein nahee (loch – flexibility, lachak;  tahreer – script)

The romantic jugal-bandi between the royal lovers
Paaon choo lene do phoolon ko inaayat hogi
Varna humko hi nahin inko bhi shikayat hogi

The trademark Roshan qawwali composition
Chandi ka badan sone ki nazar us par yeh nazaakat kya kahiye, eji kya kahyie
Kis kis pe tumhari nazroon ne dhayi hai qayamat kya kahiye, eji kya kahiye

Or that very popular ode to love: Jo vaada kiya wo nibhana padega

The brilliance of Sahir lay in the fact that he could be equally potent whether in romance, drama or social issues. His Aurat ne janam diya mardon ko mardon ne ise bazaar diya (Sadhana, 1958) or Jinhe naaz hai Hind par woh kahan hai (Pyasa, 1957) are probably Bollyowood’s strongest comment on gender bias and female exploitation.

In Taj Mahal, he uses the hapless beloved waiting for her prince to return from a bloody battle to comment on the futility of war and the vanity of the male ego. Khuda-e-bartar teri zameen par zameen ke khatir yeh jang kyon hai isn’t the most popular number of the film but is remarkable for its universal message. The questions are searching:
zamin bhi teri, hain ham bhi tere, ye milkiyat kaa sawaal kyaa hai? (milkiyat – possession)
or
jinhe talab hai jahaan bhar ki, unhi kaa dil itnaa tang kyoN hai? (talab – thirst, desire)

The appeal is philosophical and utopian
jinhe ataa ki hai tu ne taaqat, unhe hidaayat ki roshni de (hidaayat – wisdom)

Taj Mahal is an epic love story. Roshan and Sahir provide it a melody and depth that resonates its purity and longing more than its grandeur.

Shah Jahan would have certainly approved of it.

Jurm-E-Ulfat Pe Hamen Log Sazaa Dete Hain - 2
Kaise naadaan Hain, Sholon Ko Havaa Dete Hain 
Kaise naadaan Hain 
Hamase Diwaane Kahiin Tar Ke Vafaa Karate Hain - 2
Jaan Jaaye Ki Rahe Baat nibhaa Dete Hain 
Jaan Jaaye
Aap Daulat Ke Taraazuu Main Dilon Ko Taulen - 2
Ham Mohabbat Se Mohabbat Ka Silaa Dete Hain 
Ham Mohabbat Se
Takt Kya Chiiz Hai Aur Laal-O-Javaahar Kya Hai - 2
Ishq Vale To Khudaa_ii Bhi Luta Dete Hain 
Ishq Vaale 
Hamane Dil De Bhi Diyaa Ehad-E-Vafaa Le Bhi Liyaa - 2
Aap Ab Shokh Se Deden Jo Sazaa Dete Hain 
Jurm-E-Ulfat Pe Hamen Log Sazaa Dete Hain

khudaa-e-bartar teri zamin par, zamin ki khaatir ye jang kyoN hai
har ek fatah-o-zafar ke daaman pe Khoon-e-insaaN kaa rang kyoN hai
khudaa-e-bartar teri zamin par, zamin ki khaatir ye jang kyoN hai

zamin bhi teri, hain ham bhi tere, ye milkiyat kaa savaal kyaa hai
ye qatl-o-KhooN kaa rivaaz kyoN hai, ye rasm-e-jang-o-jadaal kyaa hai
jinhe talab hai jahaan bhar ki, unhi kaa dil itnaa tang kyoN hai
khudaa-e-bartar teri zamin par, zamin ki khaatir ye jang kyoN hai

Ghareeb maaNo shareef behnoN ko amn-o-izzat ki zindagi de
jinhe ataa ki hai tu ne taaqat, unhe hidaayat ki roshni de
saroN mein kibr-o-Ghuroor kyoN hain, diloN ke sheeshe pe jang kyoN hai
khudaa-e-bartar teri zamin par, zamin ki khaatir ye jang kyoN hai

Khazaa ke raste pe jaanevaaloN ko bach ke aane ki raah denaa
diloN ke gulshan ujaD na jaaye, muhabbatoN ko panaah denaa
jahaaN mein jashn-e-vafaa ke badle, ye jashn-e-teer-o-tafang kyoN hai
khudaa-e-bartar teri zamin par, zamin ki khaatir ye jang kyoN hai

khudaa-e-bartar teri zamin par, zamin ki khaatir ye jang kyoN hai
har ek fatah-o-zafar ke daaman pe Khoon-e-insaaN kaa rang kyoN hai
khudaa-e-bartar teri zamin par, zamin ki khaatir ye jang kyoN hai

Glossary:
Khudaa-e-bartar = O superior God, fatah-o-zafar = victories and triumph, jaNg-o-jadaal = fights and battles, talab = thirst, need, amn-o-izzat = peace and respect, ataa = blessed (given by the grace of God, a blessing), kibr-o-Gharoor = pride (kibr = pride, eminence, similar meanings for Gharoor as well), qazaa = destiny, fate, divine decree, jashn-e-teer-o-tufaNg = celebrations with bows and guns