Talk to me, javas, talk to me - Kazi Nazrul Islam

Talk to me, javas, talk to me --
what austerities did you do to get Syama Ma's feet?
Torn from your stems on illusion's plants,
falling scattered to the ground at Her feet,
you got liberation
bursting open
beside yourselves with joy.
If only I could learn from your example
my life might bear fruit.
Thousands of sweet-smelling flowers bloom in the woods,
and they're all such beauties! So how come
you got Ma's feet?
You're just ignoran't javas!

Crimson like you at the Mother's feet,
when will they be flowers
offered to Her, blessed by Her?
When will they turn red
at the touch of Her feet?
When will they, just like you, blush scarlet --
these dull petals of my mind?

English version by
Rachel Fell McDermott

Kazi Nazrul Islam

Syama wakes on the cremation grounds - Kazi Nazrul Islam

Syama wakes on the cremation grounds
to take Her child
at the final hour
to Her lap.
The peaceful Mother sits on the pyre
in fire hidden by Her sari of love.
To hold him on Her lap
She left the Kailasa of Her joy, and
with blessings and fearlessness in Her hands
made the cremation grounds Her home.
Why fear this place
when you'll sleep peacefully at the Mother's feet?
Who dies ignited by the flames of this world,
to him the Mother calls:
"Come to My lap, come to My lap."
To lull you to sleep, Oh Wearied by Life,
Ma takes you to Her lap
disguised as death.

English version by
Rachel Fell McDermott

Kazi Nazrul Islam

Song of Dawn - Kazi Nazrul Islam

It's dawn,-
open the door,
wake up, Khukumoni!
The jasmine flowers
from their vines
are calling you to come running,
wake up, Khukumoni!
Uncle Sun
is crawling out
all dressed in a crimson shirt,
listen -- the gatekeeper
is singing
his song, "Rama hoi."
The birds
are leaving their nests
to fly in the sky,
listen to them
singing continuously,
filling the morning air!
The restless
Bulbul birds
whistle from flower to flower,
this time,
this time,
Khukumoni will open her eyes!
Setting the rudder,
hoisting the sail,
the boat begins its journey,
this time,
this time,
Khukumoni has opened her eyes!
Lazy
she's not--
she's an early-riser,
that's why
Brother Moon
gives a teep everyday for her!
Up
and running--
all the little boys and girls,
listen to them
babbling
about who woke up first!
Night's
wash up
wake up, Khukumoni!
With a hymn
let's begin
asking for a blessing from God!

English version by
Sajed Kamal

Kazi Nazrul Islam

O Nightingale! - Kazi Nazrul Islam

In Garden Plot, O Nightingale, do not
rock upon this flower stem today;
For these buds swinging in deep sleep,
Unbroken dozing slumber lay.

Oh how north winds blow now!
Empty branches bow, day and night!
Absent is the southern breeze,
singing melodies, honey bees are in dismay!

When will that virgin flower
sunder sleeps power, opening wide in blossom?
By morning cheeks in red, breaking slumber's stay.

Springtime wakes the bud wide,
breaking each side, bringing a flowering flood.
Flowering bud's, parting lips pursed
into laughter burst, dimpled cheeks display.

Oh poet! you forgot the scent, so
sinking down low, fail to find that shore.
The flower in past, that had filled your breast,
Now, o'erflowed it lies, 'neath a flood of watering eyes.

English version by
John Thorpe

Kazi Nazrul Islam

Mother, i may have been a naughty child - Kazi Nazrul Islam

mother, i may have been a naughty child,
but i am your child nevertheless!
you own the world, mother, you are the queen of the world,
and look at me, i go about in the habit of a beggar.

you are bent on neglecting me,
but i love you anyway, it is you,�only you that i call upon.
just as a child runs to his mother even after she has scolded him,
so do i run to you.

how could you push me away from you, mother,
you are my mother, are you not?
oh, why did you cast me away, mother,
leave me to play in the dust?
i would have been a better child,
had only you been a little more kind to me.

i am sad and angry, mother,
i shall go away anywhere my eyes and my feet take me to.
i do not care now whether i live or die now, mother,
i am going away.

Kazi Nazrul Islam

Let's Meet Hereafter! - Kazi Nazrul Islam

We will meet again in the life Hereafter;
Here, please, forget me with a simple laughter.
Anything that remained unsaid,
I won't say; Let you also keep silence;
If I offer my love, turn me away;
If I persist, hurt me, in pretense.

Dream is broken abruptly here,
The evening's bud sheds in the dawn;
The heart dries up before love is savored;
The ambrosia here has the taste of poison.

In separation here, heart longs in agony;
When together, quickly we go apart;
Where the fountain of love is never dry,
In that everlasting Garden, remember to seek my heart.

English version by
Mohammad Omar Farooq

Kazi Nazrul Islam

He who has seen my Mother - Kazi Nazrul Islam

He who has seen my Mother
can he hate his brother?
She loves everyone in the three worlds;
her heart cries for all.
With her there's no difference of caste,
no distinction between high and low;
all are the same.
If she sees a Candala
like Rama with Guhak
she clasps him to her breast.
Ma is our Great Illusion, highest Nature, and
Father our highest Self;
that's why one feels love for all
we feel love for all.
If you worship the Mother
hating her children
she won't accept your puja;
the Ten-Armed One will not.
The day we forget the knowledge of difference
on that day only
will Ma come home to us.

English version by
Rachel Fell McDermott

Kazi Nazrul Islam

Come silently like the Moon - Kazi Nazrul Islam

O, my love
Come silently in the middle of the night
As gliding moonlight

With your tender touch
Bring sweet dreams to my eyes

O, my love, never again
I will need to open the door,
Come quietly through the door of my heart
Be there forever in my sweet memory

Come as the fragrance of un-blossomed flowers
Swaying in the evening breeze
Sing out my name over and over again
Like love-stricken evening bird in the wilderness

Come as tear drops in my eyes
Whisper in my ears like soothing tune of flute
Come as my lost love
O my ever lost love
Be there as eternal pain in my heart.

English version by
Gulshan Ara

Kazi Nazrul Islam

The Rebel - Kazi Nazrul Islam

Bidrohi

This is a poem by the poet laureate of Bangladesh.
I can't get over how Rock & Roll his words are.
It's Like Sabbath meets T Rex meets The Clash.
Posted by Richard Bacchus at Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Proclaim Hero
Proclaim: My head is held towering
Bows down the Himalayan peak, that at looking.
Say Hero-
Say: Tearing the firmament of the universe
Outstripping the Moon, the Sun and the Stars
Piercing the Earth and the celestial spheres
Penetrating through the Almighty's sacred throne
Risen have I, the wonder eternal of the God's universe.
With the mark of majestic might
The angry God on my forehead blazing bright!
Say Hero-
Say: My head is held ever towering!

I am irrepressible, imperious and brutal
I am the dancing lord of the great upheaval.
I am the cyclone, the devastation tremendous
I am terrible fear and the curse of the universe
I am turbulent, I crash everything

Wild I am, I trample under my feet all rules and binding
I obey no law, but mine
I cause the loaded boats to capsize
I am torpedo, I am the dreadful floating mine.
I am the God Dhurjati-
The ill timed hair disheveled typhoon of disaster,
I am The Rebel the rebellious son of the global mother.

Say Hero-
Ever towering is my head!

I am the hurricane, I am the whirlwind
I smash everything on my path and leave behind.
I am the dance-insane rhythm
I dance on, with my own beat
I am the heart liberated wit.
I am the different musical modes
I rock, I roll, on move I startleI whistle and swing on sharp notes.

I do whatever this mind wants whenever
I embrace the enemy and fight the death as a warrior.
I am pestilence, the global terror
I am the death of the dictator
I am warm and restless forever.

Say Hero-
Ever high is my head!

I am wine intoxicating
The glass of my heart is ever filled
With the wine sparkling.
I am the flame of the sacrificial fire
I am the God of fire, who keeps it burning.
I am the sacrifice, I am the priest, I am the fire.
I am creation, I am devastation
I am habitation, I am the ground of cremation.

I am the son of Indrani - the queen of the heaven
The Moon on my arm and the Sun on my forehead have risen.
In one hand of mine is the flute tender
The war bugle I hold in the other.

I am the Black-throated
Having the poison churned up from the weeping sea
I am the lord Bomkesh
I hold the bridle of the Ganges-stream with me.

Say Hero-
Ever towering is my head!

I am a saint, a soldier of music
I am the prince in disguise
With the dress of a hermit-mystic.
I am a Bedouin, a Chengis the brute
It is none, but me, I salute.

I am thunder
From the God 'Iswan's pipe, I am the mystic 'Omker'
Alas! from the bugle of 'Israfil', I am the roar danger.
I am Bishyamitra's disciple, Durbasha the furious
I am the fury of forest fire
I will burn to ashes this universe.
I am the heart opening laughter
I am the great anti-creation terror
I am the Eclipse of the twelve Suns of the final disaster.

Seldom I am quiet
Seldom restless and wild, I am the blood-youth
I snatch the God's pride.
I am the breath of typhoon, the ocean's roaring rave
I am radiant and flashing
I am the murmur of stream, the swing of music of the wave.

I am the unbraided hair of a virgin
The flame of her arresting gaze
I am the tender heart's love of a lotus sixteen.
I am the unconcerned mind of the indifferent
I am the sigh in the widow's heart, rending constant.
I am the accumulated anguish of all the homeless sufferers
The agony of the humiliated hearts

I am the bitter sorrows of the estranged lovers.
I am the distressed cry of a heart rending
I am the first touch of a virgin trembling
I am the heart throb of a passionate kiss stolen
I am the secret lady-love's glance twinkle
Her bashful sidelong look

I am the love of a maiden fickle
Her bracelet's sweet jingle.
I am the eternal child, the everlasting youth
I am the scarf of a village maid, afraid of her budding youth.
I am the Northern breeze

From the Malabar range the mode 'Purabi' unconcern
I am the deep notes from a bamboo flute of a poet pedestrian.
I am the great summer thirst, I am the blazing Sun's furies
I am the murmuring desert spring-
I am the chiaroscuro of an oasis.
I rush forth as a crazy with bursting laughter
Oh! I know myself today, all the barriers are broken forever.

I am the rise, I am the fall, I am the consciousness in the soul unconscious
I am the triumphal flag of humanity, over the arch of the universe.
I rush like the clapping storm, holding the heaven and earth in hands
The flying horse and the horse of 'Indra'-the King God are my mounts
I am the volcano in the bosom of earth, the submarine fire
The fire of the universal annihilation

I am the under-earth drunk on tumultuous sea of fire.
Riding on the lightning, I fly with the joy profound
I instill panic and cause sudden earthquake in the world around.
I catch hold the hood of 'Basuki' the snake-king
I clasp the heavenly angel Gabriel's fiery wing.
I am a heavenly child, I am restless, I am impudent
I tear with my teeth the Mother-earth's garment.

I am the flute of Orpheus
I cause the heaving sea sleepy
With a kiss of sleep, I send the world in drowse.
I am in bondage of the tune of flute
I am the God Krishna's flute.
When I fly across the space with great anger
The trembling seventh hell, extinguishes in fear
I carry the revolt in the world all over.

I am the monsoon rain-flood of erosion
Sometime I fill the earth with adoration
Sometime I cause the awful destruction.
I will snatch the twin girls
From the bosom of God 'Vishnu' who sustains the creation.

I am injustice, I am meteor, I am the Saturn
I am the burning Comet, the venomous hood of annihilation.
I am the goddess 'Chandi' with the severed head
I am the war-loving cause of the dead.
Sitting in the hell of fire
I smile the smile of a flower.

I am earthly, I am spiritual
I am ageless, undecaying and immortal.
I am the terror of men, Gods and monsters
I am the invincible power of this universe.
I am the lord of the lords, 'Vishnu' the Supreme Being.
Frantically I move around the heaven the hades and the earth churning.

I am mad, I am mad !!!
I now know myself and all my shackles and constraints have evaporated !!

I am the battleaxe of God 'Parshuram'
I shall exterminate the warriors
And bring the noble peace to this universe.
I am the plough on the shoulders of 'Balaram'
I shall uproot the subject-world with ease
In the new creation of joy and peace.
I the Great Rebel, shall be quiet on that day
When the oppressed people's wail on the sky and air will not resound
The tyrant's dreadful sword will not flash on the battle ground
I, the Rebel, tired of battle, shall be quiet on that day.

I am a Rebel 'Vrigu'-
I mark my footprint on the chest of the creator God
I shall cut open the heart of the grief inflicting whimsical lord.
I am the Hero, Rebel – eternal -
Rose above the universe alone
My head is ever Monumental

Kazi Nazrul Islam

The Dawn of New Creation - Kazi Nazrul Islam

(Aaj Srishti Shukher Ullashey)

Today at the Nativity of New Creation,
A thrill of joy runs riot in me,
My face is aglow, my eyes are radiant,
My blood boils and bubbles and dances in ecstasy
Today at the Baptism of New Life!



Today in the imprisoned well of my heart –
A deluge arises and the flood-tide violently
breaks through the barriers.
There comes smile, there are tears,
Liberty appears, fetters follow,
I learn to speak, today, my bosom is
split up, there comes the joy of
my bitter sorrow,
Lo! There comes the sorrow of
a forlorn heart –
Today at the Baptism of a New world!



There appear the deserted, there wail the dejected,
And heart-rending lamentations beggar description,
The ocean is swelling, the sky trembling,
the wind blowing,
Vishnu's discus piercing the firmament,
the trident of Shiva being hurled.
Behold! The comet and the meteor
Out to subvert the Creation:
At this, in my breast are blossoming
now the flowers of million gardens,
Ay, at the prospect of a Millennium!

- Translated by Abdul Hakim

Kazi Nazrul Islam

Later life and illness of Nazrul

In 1933, Nazrul published a collection of essays titled "Modern World Literature", in which he analyses different styles and themes of literature. Between 1928 and 1935 he published 10 volumes containing 800 songs of which more than 600 were based on classical ragas. Almost 100 were folk tunes after kirtans and some 30 were patriotic songs. From the time of his return to Kolkata until he fell ill in 1941, Nazrul composed more than 2,600 songs, many of which have been lost.[4] His songs based on baul, jhumur, Santhali folksongs, jhanpan or the folk songs of snake charmers, bhatiali and bhaoaia consist of tunes of folk-songs on the one hand and a refined lyric with poetic beauty on the other. Nazrul also wrote and published poems for children.[4]

Nazrul's success soon brought him into Indian theatre and the then-nascent film industry. The first picture for which he worked was based on Girish Chandra Ghosh's story "Bhakta Dhruva" in 1934. Nazrul acted in the role of Narada and directed the film. He also composed songs for it, directed the music and served as a playback singer.[3] The film "Vidyapati" ("Master of Knowledge") was produced based on his recorded play in 1936, and Nazrul served as the music director for the film adaptation of Tagore's novel Gora. Nazrul wrote songs and directed music for Sachin Sengupta's bioepic play "Siraj-ud-Daula". In 1939, Nazrul began working for Calcutta Radio, supervising the production and broadcasting of the station's musical programmes. He produced critical and analytic documentaries on music, such as "Haramoni" and "Navaraga-malika". Nazrul also wrote a large variety of songs inspired by the raga Bhairav.[30] Nazrul sought to preserve his artistic integrity by condemning the adaptation of his songs to music composed by others and insisting on the use of tunes he composed himself.

Nazrul's wife Pramila Devi fell seriously ill in 1939 and was paralysed from waist down. To provide for his wife's medical treatment, he resorted to mortgaging the royalties of his gramophone records and literary works for 400 rupees.[31] He returned to journalism in 1940 by working as chief editor for the daily newspaper "Nabayug" ("New Age"), founded by the eminent Bengali politician A. K. Fazlul Huq.[32]

Nazrul also was shaken by the death of Rabindranath Tagore on August 8, 1941. He spontaneously composed two poems in Tagore's memory, one of which, "Rabihara" (loss of Rabi or without Rabi) was broadcast on the All India Radio. Within months, Nazrul himself fell seriously ill and gradually began losing his power of speech. His behaviour became erratic, and spending recklessly, he fell into financial difficulties. In spite of her own illness, his wife constantly cared for her husband. However, Nazrul's health seriously deteriorated and he grew increasingly depressed. He underwent medical treatment under homeopathy as well as Ayurveda, but little progress was achieved before mental dysfunction intensified and he was admitted to a mental asylum in 1942. Spending four months there without making progress, Nazrul and his family began living a silent life in India. In 1952, he was transferred to a mental hospital in Ranchi. With the efforts of a large group of admirers who called themselves the "Nazrul Treatment Society" as well as prominent supporters such as the Indian politician Syama Prasad Mookerjee, the treatment society sent Nazrul and Promila to London, then to Vienna for treatment.[33] Examining doctors said he had received poor care, and Dr. Hans Hoff, a leading neurosurgeon in Vienna, diagnosed that Nazrul was suffering from Pick's Disease. His condition judged to be incurable, Nazrul returned to Calcutta on 15 December 1953.[34] On June 30, 1962 his wife Pramila died and Nazrul remained in intensive medical care. In 1972, the newly independent nation of Bangladesh obtained permission from the Government of India to bring Nazrul to live in Dhaka and accorded him honorary citizenship.[3] Despite receiving treatment and attention, Nazrul's physical and mental health did not improve. In 1974, his youngest son, Kazi Aniruddha, an eminent guitarist died, and Nazrul soon succumbed to his long-standing ailments on August 29, 1976. In accordance with a wish he had expressed in one of his poems, he was buried beside a mosque on the campus of the University of Dhaka. Tens of thousands of people attended his funeral; Bangladesh observed two days of national mourning and the Indian Parliament observed a minute of silence in his honour.

Exploring religion Kazi Nazrul Islam

Nazrul's mother died in 1928, and his second son Bulbul died of smallpox the following year. His first son, Krishna Mohammad had died prematurely. His wife gave birth to two more sons — Savyasachi in 1928 and Aniruddha in 1931 — but Nazrul remained shaken and aggrieved for a long time. His works changed significantly from rebellious expositions of society to deeper examination of religious themes. His works in these years led Islamic devotional songs into the mainstream of Bengali folk music, exploring the Islamic practices of namaz (prayer), roza (fasting), hajj (pilgrimage) and zakat (charity). This was regarded by his contemporaries as a significant achievement as Bengali Muslims had been strongly averse to devotional music.[22] Nazrul's creativity diversified as he explored Hindu devotional music by composing Shama Sangeet, bhajans and kirtans, often merging Islamic and Hindu values. Nazrul's poetry and songs explored the philosophy of Islam and Hinduism [23].

Let people of all countries and all times come together. At one great union of humanity. Let them listen to the flute music of one great unity. Should a single person be hurt, all hearts should feel it equally. If one person is insulted; it is a shame to all mankind, an insult to all! Today is the grand uprising of the agony of universal man.[24]

Nazrul's poetry imbibed the passion and creativity of Shakti, which is identified as the Brahman, the personification of primordial energy. He wrote and composed many bhajans, shyamasangeet, agamanis and kirtans. He also composed large number of songs on invocation to Lord Shiva, Goddesses Lakshmi and Saraswati and on the theme of love of Radha and Krishna.[4]

Nazrul assailed fanaticism in religion, denouncing it as evil and inherently irreligious. He devoted many works to expound upon the principle of human equality, exploring the Qur'an and the life of Islam's prophet Muhammad. Nazrul has been compared to William Butler Yeats for being the first Muslim poet to create imagery and symbolism of Muslim historical figures such as Qasim, Ali, Umar, Kamal Pasha, Anwar Pasha and the prophet Muhammad.[9] His vigorous assault on extremism and mistreatment of women provoked condemnation from fundamentalist Muslims, many of whom denounced him as a kaffir (heretic).[25]

In 1920, Nazrul expressed his vision of religious harmony in an editorial in Yuga Bani,

“Come brother Hindu! Come Musalman! Come Buddhist! Come Christian! Let us transcend all barriers, let us foresake forever all smallness, all lies, all selfishness and let us call brothers as brothers. We shall quarrel no more”.[26]

In another article entitled Hindu Mussalman published in Ganabani on September 2, 192 he wrote -

‘’I can tolerate Hinduism and Muslims but I cannot tolerate the Tikism (Tiki is a tuft of never cut hair kept on the head by certain Hindus to maitain personal Holiness) and beardism. Tiki is not Hinduism. It may be the sign of the pundit. Similarly beards is not Islam, it may be the sign of the pundit. Similarly beard is not Islam, it may be the sign of the mollah. All the hair-pulling have originated from those two tufts of hair. Todays fighting is alos between the Pundit and the Mollah: It is not between the Hindus and the Muslims. No prophet has said, ‘’I have come for Hindus I have come for Muslims I have come for Christians.” They have said, “I have come for the humanity for everyone, like light’’. But the devotees of Krishna says, “Krishna is for Hindus”. The followers of Muhammad (Sm) says, “Muhammad (Sm) is for the Muslims”. The Disciple of Christ is for Christian”. Krishna-Muhammad-Christ have become national property. This property is the root of all trouble. Men do not quarrel for light but they quarrel over cattles.”[27]

Nazrul was an exponent of humanism.[28] Although a Muslim, he named his sons with both Hindu and Muslim names: Krishna Mohammad, Arindam Khaled(bulbul), Kazi Sazbyasachi and Kazi Aniruddha.

Mass music of Kazi Nazrul Islam

With his wife and young son Bulbul, Nazrul settled in Krishnanagar in 1926. His work began to transform as he wrote poetry and songs that articulated the aspirations of the downtrodden classes, a sphere of his work known as "mass music."[12] Nazrul assailed the socio-economic norms and political system that had brought upon misery. From his poem Daridro (Pain or Poverty):

O poverty, thou hast made me great.
Thou hast made me honoured like Christ
With his crown of thorns. Thou hast given me
Courage to reveal all. To thee I owe
My insolent, naked eyes and sharp tongue.
Thy curse has turned my violin to a sword...
O proud saint, thy terrible fire
Has rendered my heaven barren.
O my child, my darling one
I could not give thee even a drop of milk
No right have I to rejoice.
Poverty weeps within my doors forever
As my spouse and my child.
Who will play the flute?[

In what his contemporaries regarded as one of his greatest flairs of creativity, Nazrul began composing the very first ghazals in Bengali, transforming a form of poetry written mainly in Persian and Urdu.[4] Nazrul for the first introduced Islam into the larger mainstream tradition of Bengali music. The first record of Islamic songs by Nazrul Islam was a commercial success and many gramophone companies showed interest in producing these. A significant impact of Nazrul's "Islamisation" of Bengali music was that it drew an audience amongst conservative Muslims, traditionally averse to music. Nazrul also composed a number of notable Shamasangeet, Bhajan and Kirtan, combining Hindu devotional music.[14] Arousing controversy and passions in his readers, Nazrul's ideas attained great popularity across India. In 1928, Nazrul began working as a lyricist, composer and music director for His Master's Voice Gramophone Company. The songs written and music composed by him were broadcast on radio stations across the country. He was also enlisted/attached with the Indian Broadcasting Company [15].


Nazrul professed faith in the belief in the equality of women — a view his contemporaries considered revolutionary.[16] From his poet Nari (Woman):

I don't see any difference
Between a man and woman
Whatever great or benevolent achievements
That are in this world
Half of that was by woman,
The other half by man. (Translated by Sajed Kamal[17])

His poetry retains long-standing notions of men and women in binary opposition to one another and does not affirm gender similarities and flexibility in the social structure:

Man has brought the burning, scorching heat of the sunny day;
Woman has brought peaceful night, soothing breeze and cloud.
Man comes with desert-thirst; woman provides the drink of honey.
Man ploughs the fertile land; woman sows crops in it turning it green.
Man ploughs, woman waters; that earth and water mixed together, brings about a harvest of golden paddy.[17]

However, Nazrul's poems strongly emphasise the confluence of the roles of both sexes and their equal importance to life. He stunned society with his poem "Barangana" ("Prostitute"), in which he addresses a prostitute as "mother".[18] Nazrul accepts the prostitute as a human being, reasoning that this person was breast-fed by a noble woman and belonging to the race of "mothers and sisters"; he assails society's negative notions of prostitutes.[19]



Who calls you a prostitute, mother?
Who spits at you?
Perhaps you were suckled by someone
as chaste as Seeta.
....
And if the son of an unchaste mother is 'illegitimate',
so is the son of an unchaste father.
("Barangana" ("Prostitute") Translated by Sajed Kamal[20])

Nazrul was an advocate of the emancipation of women; both traditional and non-traditional women were portrayed by him with utmost sincerity.[21] Nazrul's songs are collectively called as Nazrul Geeti.

Revolutionary of Kazi Najrul Islam

Nazrul started a bi-weekly magazine, publishing the first "Dhumketu" on August 12, 1922. Earning the moniker of the "rebel poet”, Nazrul also aroused the suspicion of British authorities.[2] A political poem published in "Dhumketu" in September 1922 led to a police raid on the magazine's office. Arrested, Nazrul entered a lengthy plea before the judge in the court.

I have been accused of sedition. That is why I am now confined in the prison. On the one side is the crown, on the other the flames of the comet. One is the king, sceptre in hand; the other Truth worth the mace of justice. To plead for me, the king of all kings, the judge of all judges, the eternal truth the living God... His laws emerged out of the realization of a universal truth about mankind. They are for and by a sovereign God. The king is supported by an infinitesimal creature; I by its eternal and indivisible Creator. I am a poet; I have been sent by God to express the unexpressed, to portray the unportrayed. It is God who is heard through the voice of the poet... My voice is but a medium for Truth, the message of God... I am the instrument of that eternal self-evident truth, an instrument that voices forth the message of the ever-true. I am an instrument of God. The instrument is not unbreakable, but who is there to break God?[9]

On April 14, 1923 he was transferred from the jail in Alipore to Hooghly in Kolkata, he began a 40-day fast to protest mistreatment by the British jail superintendent. Nazrul broke his fast more than a month later and was eventually released from prison in December 1923. Nazrul composed a large number of poems and songs during the period of imprisonment and many his works were banned in the 1920s by the British authorities.[3]

Kazi Nazrul Islam became a critic of the Khilafat struggle, condemning it as hollow, religious fundamentalism.[3] Nazrul's rebellious expression extended to rigid orthodoxy in the name of religion and politics.[10] Nazrul also criticised the Indian National Congress for not embracing outright political independence from the British Empire. He became active in encouraging people to agitate against British rule, and joined the Bengal state unit of the Congress party.[3] Nazrul also helped organise the Sramik Praja Swaraj Dal, a political party committed to national independence and the service of the peasant masses. On December 16, 1925 Nazrul started publishing the weekly "Langal”, with himself as chief editor.[3] The "Langal" was the mouthpiece of the Sramik Praja Swaraj Dal.

During his visit to Comilla in 1921, Nazrul met a young Hindu woman, Pramila Devi, with whom he fell in love and they married on April 25, 1924. Pramila belonged to the Brahmo Samaj, which criticised her marriage to a Muslim. Nazrul in turn was condemned by Muslim religious leaders and continued to face criticism for his personal life and professional works, which attacked social and religious dogma and intolerance. Despite controversy, Nazrul's popularity and reputation as the "rebel poet" rose significantly.

Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel.

Rebel poet Kazi Najrul Islam

Nazrul left the army in 1920 and settled in Calcutta, which was then the Cultural capital of India (it had ceased to be the political capital in 1911).[6] He joined the staff of the “Bangiya Mussalman Sahitya Samiti” ("Bengali Muslim Literary Society") and roomed at 32 College Street with colleagues. He published his first novel "Bandhan-hara" ("Freedom from bondage") in 1920, which he kept working on over the next seven years.[3] His first collection of poems included "Bodhan", "Shat-il-Arab", "Kheya-parer Tarani" and "Badal Prater Sharab" and received critical acclaim.[3]

Working at the literary society, Nazrul grew close to other young Muslim writers including Mohammad Mozammel Haq, Afzalul Haq, Kazi Abdul Wadud and Muhammad Shahidullah. He was a regular at clubs for Calcutta's writers, poets and intellectuals like the Gajendar Adda and the Bharatiya Adda. In October 1921, Nazrul went to Santiniketan with Muhammad Shahidullah and met Rabindranath Tagore. Despite many differences, Nazrul looked to Tagore as a mentor and the two remained in close association.[3] In 1921, Nazrul was engaged to be married to Nargis, the niece of a well-known Muslim publisher Ali Akbar Khan, in Daulatpur, Comilla. But on June 18, 1921—the day of the wedding—upon public insistence by Ali Akbar Khan that the term "Nazrul must reside in Daulatpur after marriage" be included in the marriage contract, Nazrul walked away from the ceremony.

Nazrul reached the peak of fame with the publication of "Bidrohi" in 1922, which remains his most famous work, winning admiration of India's literary classes by his description of the rebel whose impact is fierce and ruthless even as its spirit is deep:.[7]

I am the unutterable grief,
I am the trembling first touch of the virgin,
I am the throbbing tenderness of her first stolen kiss.
I am the fleeting glance of the veiled beloved,
I am her constant surreptitious gaze...

...

I am the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth,
I am the wild fire of the woods,
I am Hell's mad terrific sea of wrath!
I ride on the wings of lightning with joy and profundity,
I scatter misery and fear all around,
I bring earth-quakes on this world! “(8th stanza)” I am the rebel eternal,
I raise my head beyond this world,
High, ever erect and alone! “(Last stanza)”[8] (English translation by Kabir Choudhary)

Published in the "Bijli" magazine, the rebellious language and theme was popularly received, coinciding with the Non-cooperation movement — the first, mass nationalist campaign of civil disobedience against British rule.[3]

Nazrul explores a synthesis of different forces in a rebel, destroyer and preserver, expressing rage as well as beauty and sensitivity. Nazrul followed up by writing "Pralayollas" ("Destructive Euphoria"), and his first anthology of poems, the "Agniveena" ("Lyre of Fire") in 1922, which enjoyed astounding and far-reaching success. He also published his first volume of short stories, the "Byather Dan" ("Gift of Sorrow") and "Yugbani", an anthology of essays.

The Early Life of Kazi Nazrul Islam

Kazi Nazrul Islam was born in the village of Churulia in the Burdwan District of Bengal (now located in the Indian state of West Bengal).[2] He was born in a Muslim family who is second of three sons and a daughter, Nazrul's father was the imam and caretaker of the local mosque and mausoleum. Nazrul's mother was Zaheda Khatun. Nazrul had two brothers, Kazi Shahebjan and Kazi Ali Hussain, and a sister, Umme Kulsum. Nicknamed Dukhu Mia (Sad Man), Nazrul began attending the maktab — the local religious school run by the mosque — where he studied the Qur'an and other scriptures, Islamic philosophy and theology. His family was devastated with the death of his father in 1908. At the young age of ten, Nazrul began working in his father's place as a caretaker to support his family, as well as assisting teachers in school. He later became the muezzin at the mosque, leading the community prayers.[3][4]

Attracted to folk theatre, Nazrul joined a leto (travelling theatrical group) run by his uncle Bazle Karim. Working and travelling with them, learning acting, as well as writing songs and poems for the plays and musicals.[2] Through his work and experiences, Nazrul began learning Bengali and Sanskrit literature, as well as Hindu scriptures such as the Puranas. The young poet composed a number of folk plays for his group, which included "Chasar San" ("The story of a Farmer"), "Shakunibadh" ("The Killing of a Vulture"), "Raja Yudhisthirer San" ("The story of King Yudhisthir"), "Data Karna" ("Philanthropic Karna"), "Akbar Badshah" ("Emperor Akbar"), "Kavi Kalidas" ("Poet Kalidas"), "Vidyabhutum" ("The Learned Owl"), "Rajputrer San" ("The story of a Prince"), "Buda Saliker Ghade Ron" ("Battered Old Bird") and "Meghnad Badh" ("The Killing of Meghnad").[3]

In 1910, Nazrul left the troupe and enrolled at the Raniganj Searsole Raj School, and later transferred to the Mathrun High English School, studying under the headmaster and poet Kumudranjan Mallik. Unable to continue paying his school fees, Nazrul left the school and joined a group of “kaviyals”. Later he took jobs as a cook at the house of a Christian railway guard and at a bakery and tea stall in the town of Asansol. In 1914, Nazrul joined the Darirampur School (now Nazrul University) in Trishal, Mymensingh District. Amongst other subjects, Nazrul studied Bengali, Sanskrit, Arabic, Persian literature and classical music under teachers who were impressed by his dedication and skill.[3]

Studying up to Class X, Nazrul did not appear for the matriculation pre-test examination, enlisting instead in the Indian Army in 1917 at the age of eighteen. He joined the British army mainly for two reasons: first, his youthful romantic inclination to respond to the unknown and, secondly, the call of politics[5]. Attached to the 49th Bengal Regiment, he was posted to the cantonment in Karachi, where he wrote his first prose and poetry. Although he never saw active fighting, he rose in rank from corporal to havildar, and served as quartermaster for his battalion.[3] During this period, Nazrul read extensively, and was deeply influenced by Rabindranath Tagore and Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay, as well as the Persian poets Hafez, Rumi and Omar Khayyam. He learnt Persian poetry from the regiment's Punjabi moulvi, practiced music and pursued his literary interests. His first prose work, "Baunduler Atmakahini" ("Life of a Vagabond") was published in May, 1919. His poem "Mukti" ("Freedom") was published by the "Bangla Mussalman Sahitya Patrika" ("Bengali Muslim Literary Journal") in July 1919.

The short story of Kazi Nazrul Islam

Early Life | Rebel Poet | Revoulutionary | Mass Music | Exploring Religion | Illness

Kazi Nazrul Islam (Bengali: Kazi Nozrul Islam) (25 May 1899–29 August 1976) was a Bengali poet, musician, revolutionary, and philosopher who pioneered poetic works espousing intense spiritual rebellion against orthodoxy and oppression. His poetry and nationalist activism earned him the popular title of Bidrohi Kobi (Rebel Poet). Accomplishing a large body of acclaimed works through his life, Nazrul is officially recognised as the national poet of Bangladesh and commemorated in India.

Born into a poor Muslim family, Nazrul received religious education and worked as a muezzin at a local mosque. He learned of poetry, drama, and literature while working with theatrical groups. After serving in the British Indian Army, Nazrul established himself as a journalist in Kolkata (then Calcutta). He assailed the British Raj in India and preached revolution through his poetic works, such as "Bidrohi" ("The Rebel") and "Bhangar Gaan" ("The Song of Destruction"), as well as his publication "Dhumketu" ("The Comet"). His impassioned activism in the Indian independence movement often led to his imprisonment by British authorities. While in prison, Nazrul wrote the "Rajbandir Jabanbandi" ("Deposition of a Political Prisoner"). Exploring the life and conditions of the downtrodden masses of India, Nazrul worked for their emancipation.

Nazrul's writings explore themes such as love, freedom, and revolution; he opposed all bigotry, including religious and gender. Throughout his career, Nazrul wrote short stories, novels, and essays but is best-known for his poems, in which he pioneered new forms such as Bengali ghazals. Nazrul wrote and composed music for his nearly 4,000 songs (including gramophone records) [1], collectively known as Nazrul geeti (Nazrul songs), which are widely popular today. At the age of 43 (in 1942) he began suffering from an unknown disease, losing his voice and memory. What was later diagnosed as Pick's Disease, caused Nazrul's health to decline steadily and forced him to live in isolation for many years. Invited by the Government of Bangladesh, Nazrul and his family moved to Dhaka in 1972, where he died four years later.