These days I'm completely caught up listening to the Sabri Brothers. Specifically 'Saqia aur pila' which is available on their album 'Ya Habib'.
The version on the album is the real deal, kicking in at 27 minutes length. A truncated version, with not terribly great sound quality is available on youtube here. And a gentleman has taken up the task of translating the lyrics to English (and providing some commentary here).
The title translates to 'Cupbearer, pour me more.'
Saqi is the word for a cupbearer. Its often translated as 'bartender' in traditional English translations. But a cupbearer was more than just a bartender in Sufi literature. The position was in many ways analogous to a muse in western literature and the wine that the cupbearer was asked to bring symbolised more than just a drink.
The longer length version is split into three parts. In the first part the drunkard is begging for more to drink, and expounds on his thirst, asking not to be put off with excuses and expressing impatience, arguing that he must have more drink now. He fends off arguements that drink is bad for him and forbidden. i particularly like this verse (not in the shortened version):
To Sari dunya ko bhoolnay kay leye
Talkhir mai say pyar kar ta hoon (???)
Log Logon ka khoon peetay hain
Mai to phir bhi Sharab peeta hoon
Not sure about the second line, but from what I can make out, the drunkard justifies his addiction by saying that to forget the world, he loves from the the bottom of his cup, and while he just drinks wine, there are people in the world who drink the blood of their fellow men.
Alas, all too true.
The second part of the poem comes when the cup-bearer has a dialogue with the drunkard, asking him what kind of wine he wants. Does he want the wine that Mansoor drank which led him to mount the cross? Mansoor was a Sufi poet who was crucified in the 9th century after he exclamations of "Truth is me!" and "I am God!" while in an ecstatic trance. Mansoor epitomises the quest for God - something that can only be achieved by shedding of the self, which is what Mansoor did - first by shedding his ego and then his material existence. The drunkard however, replies that this isn't the wine he wants.
The dialogue continues in a similar vein, the cup-bearer giving examples of various key figures in Sufi traditions including Tabriz, Moses, Jesus and Job, each time, asking if the wine the drunkard wants is the one they drank of. The drunkard replies in the negative and in the end asks for the wine drunk by Hussain, the grandson of the Prophet at Karbala.
The third section of the poem then follows with a traditional praise of the Prophet's grandson, and a dialogue between Shimr, who was said to be the general of Yazid at Karbala, and Hussain. Shimr repeatedly boasts of his worldly power - his army, his post, his wealth, his ample supply of water (at Karbala, Hussain and his companions and family had no access to water and were besieged in the desert) etc. In each of his replies, Hussain displays his faith, patience, fortitude and all the other such praiseworthy qualities and refuses to bow to Shimr's tyranny. Finally when Shimr warns Hussain that his body will be given no shroud to rest in, Hussain replies that he will be garbed in a raiment made in Heaven.
Karbala ends with the beheading of Hussain. The Sufi interpretation of these events see this as symbolic of Hussain's final detachment from his ego, removing the final barrier between himself and God. The sequence of events at Karbala and Hussain's rejection of all the trappings of worldly desires one by one mark him coming closer to this final goal.
IZ
Showing posts with label qawwali. Show all posts
Showing posts with label qawwali. Show all posts
Tuesday, 3 July 2007
Monday, 21 May 2007
Qawwali
One of the many ways I've been busy procrastinating from studying for my exams is by listening to/watching qawwalis on youtube. Aziz Mian Qawwal seems to have made a major impression. My current favourite is 'Teri Soorat Nigahon' which isn't a hard-core qawwali as such, but its one of his more famous ones. Here's the video, in which the late Mr. Aziz Mian is looking particularly scary: [now lets see if I've figured out how to embed videos properly yet!]:
Of course every qawwali session should start with a proper invocation, and 'Man Kunto Maulla' fits the bill. This is a super-charged, high-octane version from Aziz Mian's earlier days. Alas the sound quality leaves a little to be desired, but when it really gets going, one can't help but be swept along:
My wife prefers this somewhat more sedate version by Farid Ayaz and Abu Muhammad Qawwal (the sons of Munshi Raziuddin who was a truly awesome qawwal). This performance appears to have taken place outdoors in Lahore before some very stoned-looking diplomats and has an introduction by ex-PCB chief Shehryar Khan in English. Even the qawwals look cold.
Later in that same performance came this version of 'Merey Baney Ki Baat Na Poocho' (unfortunately incomplete in this video). The qawwals seemed to have warmed up somewhat, having shed their sherwani coats, and are in fine form. I particularly enjoy some of the poetry they interject here as well.
We were fortunate enough to see them perform these live after my brother's wedding at his in-laws' place. Witnessing a qawwali live is very different from seeing a recording. I don't think anyone has quiet mastered the art of really capturing the sheer expansive range of sound, though as recording technology develops in the music industry in Pakistan, I'm sure matters will improve. Some of the best existing recordings of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan are still those that he made in a studio for French Radio in the late 70s.
And for those who like to mix a little jazz with their qawwali I came across this video of a jazzy rendition of 'Dum Must Qalandar' played in a Brooklyn club. Funny. Compare it to the Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan version its based on (again poor sound recording, but some nice tabla work).
IZ
Of course every qawwali session should start with a proper invocation, and 'Man Kunto Maulla' fits the bill. This is a super-charged, high-octane version from Aziz Mian's earlier days. Alas the sound quality leaves a little to be desired, but when it really gets going, one can't help but be swept along:
My wife prefers this somewhat more sedate version by Farid Ayaz and Abu Muhammad Qawwal (the sons of Munshi Raziuddin who was a truly awesome qawwal). This performance appears to have taken place outdoors in Lahore before some very stoned-looking diplomats and has an introduction by ex-PCB chief Shehryar Khan in English. Even the qawwals look cold.
Later in that same performance came this version of 'Merey Baney Ki Baat Na Poocho' (unfortunately incomplete in this video). The qawwals seemed to have warmed up somewhat, having shed their sherwani coats, and are in fine form. I particularly enjoy some of the poetry they interject here as well.
We were fortunate enough to see them perform these live after my brother's wedding at his in-laws' place. Witnessing a qawwali live is very different from seeing a recording. I don't think anyone has quiet mastered the art of really capturing the sheer expansive range of sound, though as recording technology develops in the music industry in Pakistan, I'm sure matters will improve. Some of the best existing recordings of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan are still those that he made in a studio for French Radio in the late 70s.
And for those who like to mix a little jazz with their qawwali I came across this video of a jazzy rendition of 'Dum Must Qalandar' played in a Brooklyn club. Funny. Compare it to the Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan version its based on (again poor sound recording, but some nice tabla work).
IZ
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