Gulzar’s “Kitaabein” Translation

Kitabein jhankti hai band almari ke sishon se,

badi hasrat se takti hai ye,

mahino ab mulakatein nahi hoti.  

Books peering wistfully through the glass windows

Its been months since we last met

Jo shamein unki shahubat mein kata karti thi

Ab aksar guzar jati hai computer ke pardon par

Badi bechain rehti hai ye kitabein,

unhe ab neend mein chalne ki aadat ho gayi hai.

Those evenings ,spent in their company once

Are now spent glued to the computer screen.  

Those books are now growing restless

And have begun sleep walking …

Jo kadre wo sunati thi,

ki jinkein cell kabhi marte nahi the,

Jo rishtey wo sunate thi

wo saare udhre udhre hai

The insights that they used to share,

with cells that never died on us

The bonds that they shared

are now threadbare

Koi safa palat-ta hun toh ek siski nikalti hai,

Kai lafzon ke maane gir pade hai.

Bina patton ke sukhen tund lagte hai woh sab alfaz,

Jin par ab koi mane nai ugte

Now when I flip a page, a sob escapes

Many words scattered, and hollow 

Looking  like withered stubs

Upon which another leaf might never sprout

Zabaan pe zaika aata tha jo woh safa palatne ka,

Ab ungli click karne se bas ek jhapki gujarti hai.  

 Bahut kuch tay batay khulta chala jata hai parde par.

  Kitabon se jo ek jyaati raabta  tha, kat gaya hai.

The flavour that used to linger on the tongue

As one flipped the pages

Now all it takes is just a click

In the blink of an eye

Much said, and much more revealed on the screen.

That familiar connect is now broken - 

Kabhi seene pe rakh kar let jaate the,

kabhi godi mein lete the, kabhi ghutnon ko apne rehal ki soorat bana kar,

neem sajdheymein  padha karte the.  

Chute the zameen se.  

Reclining with the book

stretched across the bosom,

sometimes nestled on one’s lap,

sometimes resting on one’s knees-

doubling up as a book rest

grazing the earth, Half- bowed in prayer …

Woh saara illm toh milta rahega aainda bhi,

magar woh jo kitabon mein mila karte the sukhen phool aur mehken hue roke

Kitabein mangne, girne, uthane ke bahane rishtey bantey the, unka kya hoga?

Woh sayad ab nahi honge…"  

  

All that  learning shall continue

but those dry pressed flowers, the fragrant notes

those relationships that were forged

amid borrowing, dropping and picking of books?

That perhaps may happen no more …