Khawaja Ghulam Farid, the top most spiritual poet in Siraiki Language, was born in 1845 A.D. at Kot Mithan, in a family of Arab settlers who had come to this country along with the Arab forces
Khawaja Farid was conversant with seven languages Viz, Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Multani, Sindhi, Hindi and Sansakrat. He led a life of purity and was utterly devoted to the righteous path of the Holy Prophet(PBUH) of Islam. May his soul ever rest in peace.
The lyrics of Khawaja Farid speak of the sadness of his separation from God and Muhammad, the beloved of Allah. He never reckoned himself away from his goal. But at times he felt a great separation and so he cried, groaned and sang in his ecstacy of the love which united him to his creator but with a veil in between them. The body acts as a most obedient slave, the sould gives life to the body and the spirit infuses the mechanical power in man. All these faculties he utilised only for the sake of Allah to approach Him, the only Goal for the man to attain.
The spiritual yearing, purification and elevation depends on so many factors which have been explained by saints and spiritualists. The shortest way to the creator is Love and Khawaja used this Method of attaining sublimation. All the attributes of Allah, we know are the off- shoots of Love. Khawaja Farid expressed this love in his fine verses.
Khawaja Ghulam Farid rendered numerous services for spreading Islam and left behind disciples in Lacs. His most notable disciples are noted below:-
1. Nawab Qaisar Khan Magassi of Balochistan and his subjects.
2. Nawab Sadiq Khan 4th of Bahawalpur State and his subjects.
3. Mirza Ahmad Akhtar, the grand son of Bahadur Shah Zafar.
"Meda Ishq Vi Tu – You are also my Love.Pathanay Khan’s beautiful rendition of this Kafi by Khawaja Gulam Farid"
Khawaja Ghulam Farid is one of the most read sufi poets. He was born in 1845 at Chachran Sharif (a city in Tehsil Khanpur, District Rahim Yar Khan, Punjab. This city is situated at the east bank of Indus River). He died at Chachran Sharif in 1901 and was buried at Mithankot in District Rajanpur. Mithankot is located across the river Indus on its west bank.
Khawaja Ghulam Farid traveled to different cities and preached Islam and peace. Khawaja Farid’s poetry is all love for Allah and human beings. He was fluent in Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Sindhi, Braj Bhasha, and Saraiki. He wrote several books which are;-
Dewan-e-Farid (Saraiki poetry in 1882)
Dewan-e-Farid (Urdu Poetry in 1884)
Manaqabe Mehboobia (Persian prose
‘These knots, knots…my beloved, these knots by the hundreds
The material world, the difficulties, the pain, the splendor, oh how they have taken over my eyes and ended me in difficulty…knots…these knots
These eyes weep, they weep, complain, turmoil, recalling the troubles that emerge from you, these knots are attained, over and over again
Oh friend, Farid, they are surely blessed who are attached to the beloved’
Even though God ‘bestows’ knots, difficulties in the body and eyes of the believer there still remains a passion of attaching/associating oneself to the Beloved (God).
Translated by Asif J Naqshbandi
You Are My Ardour
You are my ardour, my friend, faith, creed.
You are my body, you are my spirit, heart, soul.
You’re the direction towards which I pray.
You are my Mecca, my mosque, my pulpit.
You are my holy books and my Koran.
You are my religious obligations,
My Hajj, charity, fasting, call to prayer.
You are my asceticism, worship,
My obedience and my piety.
You are my knowledge and you’re my gnosis .
You’re my remembrance, my contemplation
You are my tasting and my ecstasy.
You are my love, my sweet, my darling, my honey
You are my favorite, and my soulmate!
You’re my spiritual preceptor, my guide ,
You are my Shaykh and my Enlightened One
You are my hope, my wish, my gains, losses.
You’re all I see, my pride, my deliverance.
You’re my faith, my honour, modesty, glory
You’re my pain, sorrow, my crying, playing
You are my illness and my remedy.
You are what lulls me to a peaceful sleep.
You are my beauty and my fate, fortune, fame.
You are my looking, enquiring, seeking
You are my understanding, my knowing
You are my henna, my collyrium,
My rouge, my tobacco, my betel-leaf!
You are my terror, my passion, madness
You’re my crying and my lamentation.
You are my Alpha and my Omega,
My Inner, Outer, Hidden, Manifest.
If, O’Belovéd, you accept Farid
You are my Sovereign and my Sultan.
Who is the ‘you’? What does this ‘you’ really mean to us? If God is love then the entire material world, ritualized life must be imbued in that love which pushes us to consider how can such a passionate world view be physically manifested? Is this a wrong view of spirituality? Love can never be idolatry – love is always God.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lyrics of ‘Aye Husn-e-Haqiqi Noor-e-Azal’
Aye husn haqiqi noor-e-azal
tanuu wajib tay imkan kahoon
tanuu khaliq zaat qadeem kahoon
tanuu hadis khalq jahan kahoon
tanu mutlaq mahaz wajood kahoon
tanuu almiaa ayaan kahoon
tanuu aien haqeeqat maheeat
tanuu arrz sifat tay shaan kahoon
anwa kahoon ozhaf kahoon
atwar kahoon, ozaan kahoon
tanuu arsh kahoon, ablag kahoon
tanuu naaz naeem janaan kahoon
tanuu takhat jamat na baad kahon
haywaan kahoon, insan kahoon
tanuu masjid mandar dayer kahoon
tanuu kothi tay koran kahoon
tanuu masjid mandar dayer kahoon
tanuu kothi tay koran kahoon
tasbeeh kahoon, zunda kahoon
Tanuu kufar kahoon emaan khaoo
tanuu badal barkha dajj kahoon
tanuu bijli ta baran kahoon
tanuu aab kahoon
tanuu khak kahoon
tanuu baad kahoon weeran kahoon
tanuu dsurat lejman ram kahoon
tanuu seeta ji janan kahoon
baldev ja souta nand kahoon
tanuu kishn kahenaya kan kahoon
tanuu bhrama vishn ghanish kahoon
mahadev kahoon, bahgwan kahoon
tanuu geet ka rang tay byaihd kahoon
tanuu gyann kahoon agyan kahoon
tanuu ibrahim hawahishees kahoon
tanuu nooh kahoon toofan kahoon
tanuu ibrahim khalil kahoon
tanuu moosa bin imran kahoon
tanuu har dil da dildar kahoon
tanuu ahmad aali shaan kahoon
tanuu shahid malk hijaz kahoon
tanuu baies kaun makaan kahoon
tanuu nazz kahoon andaaz kahoon
tanuu hoor pari walmaan kahoon
tanuu nauog kahoon
tanuu toug kahoon
tanuu surkhee bedaaa paan kahoon
tanuu tabla tay tamboor kahoon
tanuu dholak sur tay tan kahoon
tanuu husn-te har singhar kahoon
tanuu ashawa ghamza aan kahoon
tanuu ishq kahoon
tanuu illam kahoon
tanuu waham yakin gumaan kahoon
tanuu husane da ve idrrak kahoon
tanuu zouk kahoon wajhdan kahoon
tanuu sadar kahoon, sadraan kahoon
tanuu hairat tay hairaan kahoon
tasleem kahoon, talveen kahoon
tmkeen kahoon, irfan kahoon
tanuu sumbal soo sand sard kahoon
tanuu nargis nafarman kahoon
tanuu lale adaagh ta bagh kahoon
gulzar kahoon, bustaan kahoon
tanuu lale adaagh ta bagh kahoon
gulzar kahoon, ustaan kahoon
tanuu khanjar teer toofang kahoon
tanuu barcha baang sanaan kahoon
tanuu teer fairang kaamaan kahoon
soofar kahoon, beekan kahoon
berang kahoon, bemisal kahoon
besurroot har har aan kahoon
sukdoor kahoon, qudooos kahoon
rehman kahoon, subhan kahoon
Aray tobaa dard Farid sadaaa…
Har shea nu par Nuksaan kahoon
tanuu bohut alag be aib kahoon
tanuu haq be naam nishaan kahoon
tanuu bohut alag be aib kahoon
tanuu haq be naam nishaan kahoon …
A Kafi of Khawaja Ghulam Farid. Also see its English translation.
Musag malyndi da guzar gaya dinh sara,
Singhar karyndi da guzar gaya dinh sara.
Kejjla payom, surkhi layom, keetom yar visara,
Kang udynday umer vihanri, Aaya na yar piyara.
Roh dongar tay jungle bala, Rolyom Ishaq awara.
Hik dam aish di sayj na manrum, bakht na ditrum vara.
Parh Bismalla gholum sir knu, chatum Ishiq ajara.
Ranjhan manda, man ranjhan di, rooz azal da kara.
Hijer Fareeda lambi laie, jal giyom muft vchara.
English Translation:
I wasted my day (the entire lifetime) in shining my teeth with Musag (a tree root) .
I spoiled all my day in makeup and in beautifying myself.
I made linings about my eyes with eyeliner; I colored my lips red with lipglass.
I decorated myself for my love.
I spent all my life in scaring crows (traditionally, crows cackling is an indication of some guest coming to see you) but my beloved did not come.
I wandered in the dry land, in desert (rohi) and in woods and jungle, I wandered for my love.
Never did I sleep well, not for a moment. My fate did not give me the turn (of good fortune) .
With the name of Allah I uncovered my head and picked the burden of love.
Ranjha (the beloved of Heer; traditional) is mine, I am for him (here the name of Ranjha is used metaphorically for beloved), such is written in the sacred book of fate, right from the day of creation of the universe.
O Fareed! separation has taken too long a period, I have almost burnt to ashes. Pity!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Translated by Asif J Naqshbandi
You Are My Ardour
[A Punjabi Poem by Khwaja Ghulam Farid (1845-1901)]
●●●●●●●●●●●●●
You are my ardour, my friend, faith, creed.
You are my body, you are my spirit, heart, soul.
You're the direction towards which I pray.
You are my Mecca, my mosque, my pulpit.
You are my holy books and my Koran.
You are my religious obligations,
My Hajj, charity, fasting, call to prayer.
You are my asceticism, worship,
My obedience and my piety.
You are my knowledge and you're my gnosis .
You're my remembrance, my contemplation
You are my tasting and my ecstasy.
You are my love, my sweet, my darling, my honey
You are my favourite, and my soulmate!
You're my spiritual preceptor, my guide ,
You are my Shaykh and my Enlightened One
You are my hope, my wish, my gains, losses.
You're all I see, my pride, my deliv'rance.
You're my faith, my honour, modesty, glory
You're my pain, sorrow, my crying, playing
You are my illness and my remedy.
You are what lulls me to a peaceful sleep.
You are my beauty and my fate, fortune, fame.
You are my looking, enquiring, seeking
You are my understanding, my knowing
You are my henna, my collyrium,
My rouge, my tobacco, my betel-leaf!
You are my terror, my passion, madness
You're my crying and my lamentation.
You are my Alpha and my Omega,
My Inner, Outer, Hidden, Manifest.
If, O'Belovéd, you accept Farid
You are my Sovereign and my Sultan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*A Desire in the Bangles*
A desire is in the girl’s bangles:
first they will break on his bed
then on the threshold of his house.
But why on the threshold?
Because in the girl there is a woman
mourning — who is not yet
a widow
but a widow to be.
The girl’s fear throbs in her veins
as far as her bangles
The girl’s desire throbs in them
The girl’s mourning throbs in them
Mourning?
Where is the girl’s man
for whom mourning runs in her veins
for whom desire is in her bangles?
Her man is caught
in some other body
some other dream
sorrow, other tears
His every sorrow, dream, tear
is beyond the reach of the mourning girl…
But the girl is only a girl
in her is that primal innocence,
madness, death,
whose punishment
she will give to that man
one day
when she will break her bangles…
[The literal translation of this poem was made by Lucy Rosenstein
The final translated version of the poem is by Jane Dura
original poem
literal translation
translated poem
by Gagan Gill]
