Harf
Script shown with the Urdu

آج رنگ ہے Aaj Rang Hai — Today There Is Colour

Amir Khusrau

1253– 1325

Qawwali

Somebody has come running home with news and cannot get it out fast enough. I found him. That is the whole of this song, said over and over in different words, because saying it once was never going to be enough.

The story goes that Amir Khusrau wrote it after first meeting Nizamuddin Auliya and seeing the light on his teacher's face. Seven hundred years later it is still the piece a qawwali gathering ends on, sung at the shrine in Delhi where both of them are buried. Eleven parts ahead, and none of the difficulty in it is in the words.

01  — aaj rang hai ai maha-rang hai ri

آج رنگ ہے اے مہا رنگ ہے ری
میرے محبوب کے گھر رنگ ہے ری

आज रंग है ऐ महा-रंग है री
मेरे महबूब के घर रंग है री

aaj rang hai ai maha-rang hai ri
mere mahboob ke ghar rang hai ri

There is colour today — oh, such colour. There is colour in my beloved's house.

Rang means more than colour. It is the glow on something, the mood in a room, the state a thing puts you in. Nothing is actually being described here. No scene, no face. Only that everything has taken on a colour. There is also a second way to hear the first line, and singers disagree about it: ai maha, oh great, or ai maan, oh mother. Hear it as mother and the whole song becomes a girl bursting through the door at home with news.

رنگ rang
colour; and the glow, the splendour, the state something puts you in
محبوب mahboob
beloved
ری ri
a call to a girl or a close friend — like saying hey, listen

02  — mohe pir payo nizamuddin auliya

موہے پیر پایو نظام الدین اولیا

मोहे पीर पायो निजामुद्दीन औलिया

mohe pir payo nizamuddin auliya

I have found my master — Nizamuddin Auliya.

This is the one line the song exists to say, and it says it once, plainly, in the middle of everything else. Payo means found, the word you would use for coming into money. And a pir is not a teacher in the classroom sense. A pir is the person you hand yourself over to.

پیر pir
a spiritual master, the one a seeker gives themselves to
پایو payo
found, got hold of — Braj

03  — nizamuddin auliya alauddin auliya

نظام الدین اولیا علاء الدین اولیا
علاء الدین اولیا فرید الدین اولیا
فرید الدین اولیا قطب الدین اولیا
قطب الدین اولیا معین الدین اولیا
معین الدین اولیا محی الدین اولیا

निजामुद्दीन औलिया 'अलाउद्दीन औलिया
'अलाउद्दीन औलिया फ़रीदुद्दीन औलिया
फ़रीदुद्दीन औलिया क़ुतुबुद्दीन औलिया
क़ुतुबुद्दीन औलिया मु'ईनउद्दीन औलिया
मु'ईनउद्दीन औलिया मुहिउद्दीन औलिया

nizamuddin auliya alauddin auliya
alauddin auliya fariduddin auliya
fariduddin auliya qutbuddin auliya
qutbuddin auliya moinuddin auliya
moinuddin auliya mohiuddin auliya

Nizamuddin Auliya, Alauddin Auliya. Alauddin Auliya, Fariduddin Auliya. Fariduddin Auliya, Qutbuddin Auliya. Qutbuddin Auliya, Moinuddin Auliya. Moinuddin Auliya, Mohiuddin Auliya.

The excitement stops and turns into a list. This is a silsila, a chain of teachers, where each name taught the one before it. Nizamuddin learned from Baba Farid, Fariduddin Ganj-e-Shakar. Farid learned from Qutbuddin Bakhtiar Kaki of Delhi, and Qutbuddin from Moinuddin Chishti of Ajmer. Sung out loud it sounds like a rope being passed hand over hand. She is not just saying she liked someone. She is showing where he came from, and how far back it goes.

اولیا auliya
friends of God — a title for the saints; the plural of wali
سلسلہ silsila
a chain — the line of teachers running back from any Sufi master

04  — vo to jahan dekho more sang hai ri

وہ تو جہاں دیکھو مورے سنگ ہے ری
ارے اے ری سکھی ری
وہ تو جہاں دیکھو مورو بر سنگ ہے ری

वो तो जहाँ देखो मोरे संग है री
अरे ऐ री सखी री
वो तो जहाँ देखो मोरो बर संग है री

vo to jahan dekho more sang hai ri
are ai ri sakhi ri
vo to jahan dekho moro bar sang hai ri

Wherever I look, he is with me. Oh — listen, my friend! Wherever I look, my bridegroom is with me.

The line comes twice, and the second time it adds one word. First he is simply with her. Then he is her bar, her bridegroom. That single word changes the whole claim. And she is telling her sakhi, the friend a bride tells everything to, who is the audience songs like this have had for centuries.

سنگ sang
with, alongside — Braj
سکھی sakhi
a girlfriend; the close friend a bride tells everything to
بر bar
bridegroom

05  — aahe aahe aahe va

آہے آہے آہے وا
منہ مانگے بر سنگ ہے ری

आहे आहे आहे वा
मुँह माँगे बर संग है री

aahe aahe aahe va
munh mange bar sang hai ri

Ah — ah — ah. The very bridegroom I asked for is here beside me.

Munh mange means asked for with your own mouth: the exact one you named, not whoever you were handed. For most of the people who have sung this over seven hundred years, choosing was not how marriage worked, so the phrase carries a real charge. The line before it is not words at all, just the sound qawwals stretch between phrases, and nobody has ever taken it out.

منہ مانگے munh mange
asked for by name; exactly the one you wanted

06  — nizamuddin auliya jag ujiyaro

نظام الدین اولیا جگ اجیارو
جگ اجیارو جگت اجیارو
وہ تو منہ مانگے بر سنگ ہے ری

निजामुद्दीन औलिया जग उजियारो
जग उजियारो जगत उजियारो
वो तो मुँह माँगे बर संग है री

nizamuddin auliya jag ujiyaro
jag ujiyaro jagat ujiyaro
vo to munh mange bar sang hai ri

Nizamuddin Auliya lights up the world. Lights up the world, lights up all creation. And that bridegroom I asked for is here beside me.

Jag ujiyaro is village Braj: he lights up the world. Khusrau knew the whole Persian vocabulary for divine light and used it freely in his other work. Here he reached for the word a child would use, and then said it twice. The second time it grows from jag to jagat, from the world to everything there is.

جگ jag
the world — Braj
اجیارو ujiyaro
one who lights up, brightener

07  — main pir payo nizamuddin auliya

میں پیر پایو نظام الدین اولیا
گنج شکر مورے سنگ ہے ری

मैं पीर पायो निजामुद्दीन औलिया
'गंज-शकर' मोरे संग है री

main pir payo nizamuddin auliya
'ganj-shakar' more sang hai ri

I have found my master, Nizamuddin Auliya. And Ganj-e-Shakar is with me too.

Ganj-e-Shakar, treasury of sugar, is Baba Farid, Nizamuddin's own teacher. So the chain she sang earlier stops being a list and becomes hers. By finding one master she has been given everyone who taught him, and she names the closest of them as though he had walked in too.

گنج شکر ganj-shakar
treasury of sugar — the name Baba Farid is known by

08  — main to aiso rang aur nahin dekhiyo sakhi ri

میں تو ایسو رنگ اور نہیں دیکھیو سکھی ری
میں تو ایسو رنگ دیس بدیس میں ڈھونڈ پھری ہوں

मैं तो ऐसो रंग और नहीं देखियो सखी री
मैं तो ऐसो रंग देस-बिदेस में ढूँड फिरी हूँ

main to aiso rang aur nahin dekhiyo sakhi ri
main to aiso rang des-bides mein dhoond phiri hoon

I have never seen colour like this before, my friend. I went looking for colour like this from country to country.

Des-bides, home and abroad, is the everyday phrase for everywhere there is. The order matters. She says first that she found it, and only then how long she spent looking. That is how anyone actually delivers good news. The searching gets remembered afterwards, from the other side of it.

دیس بدیس des-bides
home and abroad; everywhere
ڈھونڈ پھرنا dhoond phirna
to go about searching, to wander looking for something

09  — ai tora rang man bhayo nizamuddin

اے تورا رنگ من بھایو نظام الدین
منہ مانگے بر سنگ ہے ری

ऐ तोरा रंग मन भायो निजामुद्दीन
मुँह माँगे बर संग है री

ai tora rang man bhayo nizamuddin
munh mange bar sang hai ri

Your colour has taken my heart, Nizamuddin. The bridegroom I asked for is here beside me.

Man bhayo is about as plain as language gets: it pleased my heart, the sort of thing you say about a sweet or a song. She finally speaks to him directly, by name, and she does it in the smallest words available. After a whole chain of saints and the light of the world, this.

من بھانا man bhana
to please the heart, to be liked

10  — sajan milavra is angan ma

سجن ملاورا اس آنگن ما
سجن سجن تن سجن ملاو را
اس آنگن میں اس آنگن میں
ارے اس آنگن میں وہ تو اس آنگن میں
ارے وہ تو جہاں دیکھو مورے سنگ ہے ری

सजन मिलावरा इस आँगन मा
सजन सजन तन सजन मिलाव रा
इस आँगन में उस आँगन में
अरे इस आँगन में वो तो उस आँगन में
अरे वो तो जहाँ देखो मोरे संग है री

sajan milavra is angan ma
sajan sajan tan sajan milav ra
is angan mein us angan mein
are is angan mein vo to us angan mein
are vo to jahan dekho more sang hai ri

My love is met with in this courtyard. Love, love — my whole body — my love is met with. In this courtyard, in that courtyard. In this one, and in that one too. Wherever I look, he is with me.

An angan is the open courtyard in the middle of a house, where the family actually lives. This courtyard and that one. Mine and his, here and there, the world and whatever lies past it. The lines refuse to pick between them, and then say he is in both. It is the closest the song comes to stating a belief, and it does it using the floor plan of an ordinary house.

سجن sajan
beloved, sweetheart — Braj
آنگن angan
the open courtyard at the centre of a house

11  — ai mahboob-e-ilahi main to aiso rang aur nahin dekhi

اے محبوبِ الٰہی میں تو ایسو رنگ اور نہیں دیکھی
آج رنگ ہے اے مہا رنگ ہے ری
میرے محبوب کے گھر رنگ ہے ری

ऐ महबूब-ए-इलाही मैं तो ऐसो रंग और नहीं देखी
आज रंग है ऐ महा-रंग है री
मेरे महबूब के घर रंग है री

ai mahboob-e-ilahi main to aiso rang aur nahin dekhi
aaj rang hai ai maha-rang hai ri
mere mahboob ke ghar rang hai ri

Beloved of God — I have never seen colour like this. There is colour today, oh such colour. There is colour in my beloved's house.

Mahboob-e-Ilahi, Beloved of God, is Nizamuddin Auliya's title, the one his shrine in Delhi still carries. And mahboob, beloved, has been sitting in the very first line of the song the whole time, sounding like an ordinary pet name. Only here do you find out it was his name. Then the song circles back to the line it opened with, which is how a rang ends: back at the beginning, with the words changed underneath.

محبوبِ الٰہی mahboob-e-ilahi
Beloved of God — the title Nizamuddin Auliya is known by

Reading it whole

The excitement is the whole thing. This is gossip rather than a sermon. The voice belongs to a girl telling her sakhi, the friend a bride tells everything to, and the news is that the bridegroom she asked for is here, beside her, in this courtyard and that one and everywhere she looks.

Khusrau was a man, and he writes as a bride, a new wife, a daughter coming home to her mother, constantly. It is not a disguise. In this poetry the one who searches is the woman and the one being searched for is the bridegroom, so writing as a woman is simply writing as somebody looking for God.

Halfway through, the excitement stops and the singing turns into a list of names. Nizamuddin, then Alauddin, Fariduddin, Qutbuddin, Moinuddin, Mohiuddin. That is a silsila, a chain of teachers reaching back through one master to the one who taught him. She has not merely taken a liking to somebody. She has been handed a rope, and the rope goes back a long way. Which names get sung, and in what order, depends on the family of qawwals on stage. You sing your own chain.

Read the first line and the last one together and you catch what the song has been doing all along. It opens with colour in my mahboob's house, using the ordinary word for the one you love. Near the end she calls him Mahboob-e-Ilahi, Beloved of God, which happens to be Nizamuddin Auliya's actual title, still carved at his shrine. The song has been using it as a pet name for eleven parts and only lets you hear what it really was at the very end.

Jag ujiyaro, he lights up the world, is village Braj. Khusrau had the entire Persian vocabulary of divine light available to him and used it freely elsewhere. Here he writes the way a child talks, and that plainness is what has kept the piece in the shrines for seven hundred years. Fareed Ayaz and Abu Muhammad sing it where it belongs, at the dargah. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's is the concert-hall version, and the one most people outside the shrines have heard.

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Text and rights

Devanagari text supplied and checked by a reader who knows the language. The song is in Braj Bhasha, so the Urdu and Devanagari here are two ways of writing one older language rather than translations of each other.

A rang is sung, not recited, and singers repeat and reorder lines for as long as the gathering wants them. This is a reading text: every distinct line is here, but the repetition a performance builds up has been cleared away so the sense can be followed.

Amir Khusrau died in 1325. The poem has been out of copyright for far longer than copyright has existed. The translation and commentary on this page are Harf's own.