سوچتا ہوں کہ وہ کتنے معصوم تھے Sochta Hoon Ke Wo Kitne Masoom The — I Keep Thinking How Innocent They Were

Shakeb Jalali

1934– 1966

Ghazal

Everything in this poem turns into its opposite, and the man speaking watches it happen. The innocent go hard. The people who used to go about asking for somebody's address end up missing themselves. The loyal turn faithless. His own shadow walks off.

Shakeb Jalali died in 1966, and his first collection, Roushni Ae Roushni, came out six years after his death. Four couplets ahead, in a long slow metre that gives each of them room.

01 — sochta hoon ki vo kitne masoom the kya se kya ho gaye dekhte-dekhte Matla · the opening

سوچتا ہوں کہ وہ کتنے معصوم تھے کیا سے کیا ہو گئے دیکھتے دیکھتے
میں نے پتھر سے جن کو بنایا صنم وہ خدا ہو گئے دیکھتے دیکھتے

सोचता हूँ कि वो कितने मा'सूम थे क्या से क्या हो गए देखते-देखते
मैं ने पत्थर से जिन को बनाया सनम वो ख़ुदा हो गए देखते-देखते

sochta hoon ki vo kitne masoom the kya se kya ho gaye dekhte-dekhte
main ne patthar se jin ko banaya sanam vo khuda ho gaye dekhte-dekhte

I keep thinking how innocent they were, and what they turned into while I watched. The ones I carved out of stone and made my idols — they became God while I watched.

Sanam means an idol, and it also means the beloved, since the two senses have been one word for centuries. So the line reads: I made them out of stone, I made them my beloved, and they became God. He did the carving. He is also the one now standing underneath the result.

معصوم masoom: innocent, without guilt
صنم sanam: an idol — and, in poetry, the beloved
دیکھتے دیکھتے dekhte-dekhte: while you watched; right in front of your eyes

02 — hashr hai vahshat-e-dil ki avaragi ham se poochho mohabbat ki deewangi

حشر ہے وحشتِ دل کی آوارگی ہم سے پوچھو محبت کی دیوانگی
جو پتا پوچھتے تھے کسی کا کبھی لاپتا ہو گئے دیکھتے دیکھتے

हश्र है वहशत-ए-दिल की आवारगी हम से पूछो मोहब्बत की दीवानगी
जो पता पूछते थे किसी का कभी लापता हो गए देखते-देखते

hashr hai vahshat-e-dil ki avaragi ham se poochho mohabbat ki deewangi
jo pata poochhte the kisi ka kabhi lapata ho gaye dekhte-dekhte

The wildness of the heart goes wandering, and it is a catastrophe. Ask me what madness in love is like. The people who used to go about asking for somebody's address — they went missing themselves, while I watched.

The second line turns on a pun English cannot carry. Pata is an address, lapata is without one, missing. Same word, one syllable apart. The ones looking for a door become the ones nobody can find. And hashr is the Day of Judgement, used here the way we would say it was carnage.

حشر hashr: the Day of Judgement; loosely, utter chaos
وحشت vahshat: wildness; the kind of terror that makes you run
آوارگی avaragi: wandering, drifting with nowhere to be
لاپتا lapata: missing — literally, without an address

03 — ham se ye soch kar koi vaade karo ek vaada pe umren guzar jaengi

ہم سے یہ سوچ کر کوئی وعدے کرو ایک وعدہ پہ عمریں گزر جائیں گی
یہ ہے دنیا یہاں کتنے اہلِ وفا بے وفا ہو گئے دیکھتے دیکھتے

हम से ये सोच कर कोई वा'दे करो एक वा'दा पे 'उम्रें गुज़र जाएँगी
ये है दुनिया यहाँ कितने अहल-ए-वफ़ा बे-वफ़ा हो गए देखते-देखते

ham se ye soch kar koi vaade karo ek vaada pe umren guzar jaengi
ye hai duniya yahan kitne ahl-e-vafa be-vafa ho gaye dekhte-dekhte

Make me promises only after you have thought about this: one promise can take whole lifetimes to keep. This is the world. Plenty of loyal people here turned faithless, while I watched.

The advice sounds gentle and is not. He is telling somebody not to promise him anything, and giving his reasons: he has watched what promises cost the people who made them. Ahl-e-vafa, the people of faithfulness, is a formal, respectful phrase, and he uses it about the ones who broke their word.

وعدہ vaada: a promise
عمر umr: a lifetime, an age
اہلِ وفا ahl-e-vafa: the loyal — literally, the people of faithfulness
بے وفا be-vafa: faithless, one who breaks their word

04 — ghair ki baat tasleem kya kijiye ab to khud par bhi ham ko bharosa nahin

غیر کی بات تسلیم کیا کیجیے اب تو خود پر بھی ہم کو بھروسا نہیں
اپنا سایہ سمجھتے تھے جن کو کبھی وہ جدا ہو گئے دیکھتے دیکھتے

ग़ैर की बात तस्लीम क्या कीजिए अब तो ख़ुद पर भी हम को भरोसा नहीं
अपना साया समझते थे जिन को कभी वो जुदा हो गए देखते-देखते

ghair ki baat tasleem kya kijiye ab to khud par bhi ham ko bharosa nahin
apna saaya samajhte the jin ko kabhi vo juda ho gaye dekhte-dekhte

Never mind taking a stranger's word for anything — I do not even trust myself any more. The ones I used to think of as my own shadow left me, while I watched.

The last thing to go, and the biggest. A shadow is the one thing that cannot leave you. It is not a companion, it is what happens because your body is standing there. So this is not an image of being abandoned, it is an image of something impossible. The first line has already set it up: if you cannot trust yourself, your shadow was never yours to begin with.

تسلیم کرنا tasleem karna: to accept, to grant that something is true
بھروسا bharosa: trust, being able to rely on something
سایہ saaya: a shadow
جدا juda: separated, parted from

Reading it whole

The two words this poem repeats do all of its damage. Dekhte-dekhte means while I watched. Not suddenly, and not behind my back. It rules out surprise and ignorance in the same breath, so he cannot claim he was shocked and he cannot claim he did not know. Said four times it stops describing speed and turns into an accusation, and the person being accused is the one saying it.

The first couplet contains the whole method. He takes raw stone, does the carving himself, and the finished thing turns out to be God. Idol-making is an old cautionary story in this part of the world, and he applies it to a relationship. The flattery, the raising up, and then the moment the thing on the pedestal stops taking your calls.

The second couplet contains a pun English cannot carry across. Pata is an address. Lapata is without one, missing. The same word, one syllable apart. So the people who used to go around asking where somebody lived are now the people nobody can find. A translation can only point at that, which is the honest thing for a translation to do.

About the man himself, the only responsible thing is to state the facts and stop. He died by suicide at thirty-two. Reading that back into these four couplets would be easy and would probably be wrong. The poem is about other people changing, not about him.

It is generally sung rather than read, and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's recording took it to a great many people who had never read a line of Shakeb Jalali.

How it rhymes

Every second line closes on the same word — ہو گئے دیکھتے دیکھتے , ho gaye dekhte-dekhte. That repetition is the radif. The rhyme falling just before it is the qafiya: The long -a sound just before the refrain: kya se kya, khuda, lapata, be-vafa, juda. Hearing the two land together at the close of every sher is most of what makes this form sound the way it does.

Recordings

Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan

The recording that carried it to listeners who had never read Shakeb Jalali.

Text and rights

Devanagari text supplied and checked by a reader who knows the language. The Urdu script and the transliteration follow that reading.

The ghazal as usually printed and sung carries no maqta — no closing couplet with the poet's name written into it.

Shakeb Jalali died in 1966. Under Indian copyright, which runs for sixty years after a writer's death, this poem is in copyright until the end of 2026. It is quoted here as the subject of Harf's own criticism: the translation, the reading of each couplet and the essay around them are original work written for this page. If you hold the rights and would like something changed, tell us on Instagram.