Moulana Ziauddin (from Nabojatok)
Every now and then when free
He would stand next to me.
"Hello!" he would say amiably,
"Sit" I'd tell him with a smile
We would chat for a while
And talk about our families.
But behind such pleasantries
In our souls we savored peace,
We felt a lot though we said little.
Now that he has gone forever
Those moments we had together
Seems so very precious!
How difficult to convey in words
What in those fleeting encounters
I'll now miss forever!
You floated in a midday breeze
A novel craft loaded with cargo,
Fruits of your deep devotion.
But whatever their worth
I know nothing will replace
The memories you left behind!
Recalling them today
In my heart I feel a sharp pain.
Will those who seek no fame
Ever get their due from life?
Where will I find words,
As sharp as a knife's wound,
To express the world's apathy
Towards people like him?
Some earn fame for poetry,
Some for heroism or money,
Some for munificence
Some as kinsmen of the king,
But you spread you goodness
Amidst friends in measures
Exceeding all forms of fame!
Like Malati flowers
Blooming in monsoon showers,
And scattering over earth
Delighting in their own demise
You've left, but your fragrance
Wafts in the breeze
And spreads across the sky!
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(Translator's note: I came across this relatively unknown poem while reading about Rabindranath's life. I was struck by this simple, heart-felt tribute by him to the man who had come to Shantiniketan from Lahore to teach Islamic Studies at Visva-Bharati. He had studied at Visva-Bharati too and wrote in Persian as well as Urdu and had translated a few of Rabindranath's poems into these languages. Of interest to us in Bangladesh is the fact that Moulana Ziauddin had accompanied Syed Mujtaba Ali to Kabul and had authored the book Moslem Calligraphy.)
Dr Fakrul Alam teaches
English at the
University of Dhaka
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