Harf
Script shown with the Urdu

تم اک گورکھ دھندا ہو Tum Ek Gorakh Dhandha Ho — You Are One Impossible Puzzle

Naz Khialvi

1947– 2010

Qawwali

This is a poem addressed to God by a man who has run out of patience with him. It is devotional, it has been sung at shrines for decades, and it is made almost entirely of complaints and trick questions. Nobody ever tried to shut it down, because everybody hearing it understood that you have to believe in someone very much before you can be this annoyed with them.

A gorakh dhandha is a puzzle you cannot get out of. The name comes from the yogi Gorakhnath, and it is what people call those interlocking metal rings you get handed at a fair, the ones that clearly come apart and clearly will not. Seventeen sections ahead, moving in stages: first the search, then the traps, then a long list of what happened to everybody who went looking.

01  — kabhi yahan tumhen dhuunda kabhi vahan pahuncha

کبھی یہاں تمہیں ڈھونڈا کبھی وہاں پہنچا
تمہاری دید کی خاطر کہاں کہاں پہنچا
غریب مٹ گئے پامال ہو گئے لیکن
کسی تلک نہ ترا آج تک نشاں پہنچا

कभी यहाँ तुम्हें ढूँडा कभी वहाँ पहुँचा
तुम्हारी दीद की ख़ातिर कहाँ-कहाँ पहुँचा
ग़रीब मिट गए पामाल हो गए लेकिन
किसी तलक न तेरा आज तक निशाँ पहुँचा

kabhi yahan tumhen dhuunda kabhi vahan pahuncha
tumhari did ki khatir kahan kahan pahuncha
gharib mit gae pamal ho gae lekin
kisi talak na tera aaj tak nishan pahuncha

I looked for you here, then went there. For the sake of one sight of you, the places I have been. The poor have been wiped out, trampled underfoot — and to this day not one of them has received so much as a sign of you.

The poem opens as a report on a search, and the report is negative. The ones doing the searching are gharib, the poor, who in Urdu are also strangers, people far from home. And the last line is worded very carefully. Not that God does not exist. Only that no sign has arrived, which is a complaint about delivery.

دید did
the sight of someone; being granted a look at them
پامال pamal
trampled underfoot, ground down
نشاں nishan
a sign, a trace, an address

02  — ho bhi nahin aur har ja ho

ہو بھی نہیں اور ہر جا ہو
تم اک گورکھ دھندا ہو

हो भी नहीं और हर जा हो
तुम इक गोरख धंदा हो

ho bhi nahin aur har ja ho
tum ik gorakh dhandha ho

You are not there at all — and you are everywhere. You are one impossible puzzle.

The line the whole qawwali hangs on, and it is a flat statement of a contradiction rather than an attempt to solve it. A gorakh dhandha is the trick puzzle of interlocking rings sold at fairs: obviously separable, and it will not separate. That is the charge, and it is filed as a compliment and an accusation at once.

ہر جا har ja
in every place
گورکھ دھندا gorakh dhandha
an inextricable tangle; the ring puzzle named after the yogi Gorakhnath

03  — har zarre men kis shan se tu jalva-numa hai

ہر ذرے میں کس شان سے تو جلوہ نما ہے
حیراں ہے مگر عقل میں کیسا ہے تو کیا ہے
تجھے دیر و حرم میں میں نے ڈھونڈا تو نہیں ملتا
مگر تشریف فرما تجھ کو اپنے دل میں دیکھا ہے

हर ज़र्रे में किस शान से तू जल्वा-नुमा है
हैराँ है मगर 'अक़्ल में कैसा है तू क्या है
तुझे दैर-ओ-हरम में मैं ने ढूँढा तू नहीं मिलता
मगर तशरीफ़ फ़र्मा तुझ को अपने दिल में देखा है

har zarre men kis shan se tu jalva-numa hai
hairan hai magar aql men kaisa hai tu kya hai
tujhe dair-o-haram men main ne dhuunda tu nahin milta
magar tashrif-farma tujh ko apne dil men dekha hai

With what splendour you show yourself in every speck of dust — and yet the mind is left standing there wondering what sort of thing you are. I looked for you in the temple and in the mosque and did not find you. But I have seen you sitting comfortably in my own heart.

Two ways of knowing are set against each other and one of them loses. The intellect gets the whole universe as evidence and still cannot say what it is looking at. Then the couplet turns domestic. Tashrif-farma is the polite phrase for an honoured guest who has taken a seat. Not a vision, not a revelation. Just someone already comfortable in the room you had been searching outside of.

ذرہ zarra
a mote, a speck of dust
جلوہ نما jalva-numa
showing itself, appearing in splendour
دیر و حرم dair-o-haram
the temple and the mosque; the two rival addresses of religion
تشریف فرما tashrif-farma
seated, in the polite formula used for a guest of honour

04  — jab ba-juz tere koi dusra maujud nahin

جب بجز تیرے کوئی دوسرا موجود نہیں
پھر سمجھ میں نہیں آتا ترا پردہ کرنا
تم اک گورکھ دھندا ہو

जब ब-जुज़ तेरे कोई दूसरा मौजूद नहीं
फिर समझ में नहीं आता तेरा पर्दा करना
तुम इक गोरख धंदा हो

jab ba-juz tere koi dusra maujud nahin
phir samajh men nahin aata tera parda karna
tum ik gorakh dhandha ho

When there is nothing in existence except you, then I cannot for the life of me see the point of your veiling yourself. You are one impossible puzzle.

The neatest trap in the poem, and it takes four seconds to spring. Veiling requires somebody to be veiled from. If the doctrine is true and nothing exists but God, then the veil has no audience, so either the doctrine or the veil has to go. He declines to choose and files it under puzzle.

بجز ba-juz
except for, apart from
پردہ parda
a veil, a curtain; the act of keeping oneself hidden

05  — koi saf men tumhari kho gaya hai

کوئی صف میں تمہاری کھو گیا ہے
اسی کھوئے ہوئے کو کچھ ملا ہے
نہ بت خانے نہ کعبے میں ملا ہے
مگر ٹوٹے ہوئے دل میں ملا ہے

कोई सफ़ में तुम्हारी खो गया है
इसी खोए हुए को कुछ मिला है
न बुत-ख़ाने न का'बे में मिला है
मगर टूटे हुए दिल में मिला है

koi saf men tumhari kho gaya hai
isi khoe hue ko kuchh mila hai
na but-khane na kabe men mila hai
magar tuute hue dil men mila hai

Someone got lost standing in your ranks — and it is that lost man, and only him, who found anything. Not in the idol-house, not in the Kaaba. It was in a broken heart that he was found.

The section turns on a single verb. Milna means both to find and to be found, so the last two lines can be read either way. And the arithmetic is upside down: the man who came out of it lost is the one who gained. Both of the great addresses are ruled out in a single line, which is a very old Sufi move and never a safe one to make in public.

صف saf
a row, a rank — as in the lines of people standing at prayer
بت خانہ but-khana
an idol-house, a temple

06  — adam ban kar kahin to chhup gaya hai

عدم بن کر کہیں تو چھپ گیا ہے
کہیں تو ہست بن کر آ گیا ہے
نہیں ہے تو تو پھر انکار کیسا
نفی بھی تیرے ہونے کا پتا ہے

'अदम बन कर कहीं तो छुप गया है
कहीं तू हस्त बन कर आ गया है
नहीं है तू तो फिर इंकार कैसा
नफ़ी भी तेरे होने का पता है

adam ban kar kahin to chhup gaya hai
kahin tu hast ban kar aa gaya hai
nahin hai tu to phir inkar kaisa
nafi bhi tere hone ka pata hai

Somewhere you have hidden yourself by becoming nothingness. Somewhere you have arrived by becoming existence. And if you are not there, then what is there to deny? Even the negation is an address where you can be found.

Adam and hast, non-being and being, are the two technical terms of the philosophy this poem keeps needling. He puts God on both sides of the pair, so there is no position left from which to deny him. The last line turns on pata, which means both a trace and a street address, so the denial is not an argument against God, it is directions to his house.

عدم adam
non-being, nothingness
ہست hast
being, existence
نفی nafi
negation — as in the first half of the creed, there is no god
پتا pata
a trace; also an address

07  — main jis ko kah raha hoon apni hasti

میں جس کو کہہ رہا ہوں اپنی ہستی
اگر وہ تو نہیں تو اور کیا ہے
نہیں آیا خیالوں میں اگر تو
تو پھر میں کیسے سمجھا تو خدا ہے
تم اک گورکھ دھندا ہو

मैं जिस को कह रहा हूँ अपनी हस्ती
अगर वो तू नहीं तो और क्या है
नहीं आया ख़यालों में अगर तू
तो फिर मैं कैसे समझा तू ख़ुदा है
तुम इक गोरख धंदा हो

main jis ko kah raha hoon apni hasti
agar vo tu nahin to aur kya hai
nahin aaya khayalon men agar tu
to phir main kaise samjha tu khuda hai
tum ik gorakh dhandha ho

This thing I keep calling my own existence — if it is not you, then what is it? And if you never entered my thoughts at all, how did I come to understand that you are God? You are one impossible puzzle.

Two more traps, both aimed at the same wall. The first says he cannot locate the boundary between himself and God. The second is sharper. The standard doctrine holds that God cannot be contained in human thought, so if that is true, the idea he is currently holding got in from somewhere. Every one of these questions is a way of saying I cannot get you out of my head and I cannot get hold of you either.

ہستی hasti
existence, one's own being

08  — hairan hoon

حیران ہوں
میں حیران ہوں اس بات پہ تم کون ہو کیا ہو
ہاتھ آؤ تو بت ہاتھ نہ آؤ تو خدا ہو
اصل میں جو مل گیا لا الہ کیوں کر ہوا
جو سمجھ میں آ گیا پھر وہ خدا کیوں کر ہوا
فلسفی کو بحث کے اندر خدا ملتا نہیں
ڈور کو سلجھا رہا ہے اور سرا ملتا نہیں

हैरान हूँ
मैं हैरान हूँ इस बात पे तुम कौन हो क्या हो
हाथ आओ तो बुत हाथ न आओ तो ख़ुदा हो
अस्ल में जो मिल गया ला-इलाहा क्यूँ कर हुआ
जो समझ में आ गया फिर वो ख़ुदा क्यूँ कर हुआ
फ़लसफ़ी को बहस के अंदर ख़ुदा मिलता नहीं
डोर को सुलझा रहा है और सिरा मिलता नहीं

hairan hoon
main hairan hoon is baat pe tum kaun ho kya ho
haath aao to but haath na aao to khuda ho
asl men jo mil gaya la-ilaha kyuun kar hua
jo samajh men aa gaya phir vo khuda kyuun kar hua
falsafi ko bahs ke andar khuda milta nahin
dor ko suljha raha hai aur sira milta nahin

I am at a loss. I am at a loss over this one thing: who are you, what are you? Come into my hands and you are an idol; stay out of them and you are God. If a thing has actually been found, how is it still the one beyond all gods? If it has been understood, how is it God any more? The philosopher does not find God inside an argument. He keeps untangling the thread and never comes to the end of it.

The section opens by saying the same two words twice, hairan hoon, then hairan hoon again with the whole question behind it. That is how qawwals set it up, holding the phrase before letting the line run. Then the most quoted couplet in the qawwali: anything you can hold is a made thing, and the only quality separating God from an idol is being out of reach. That is a definition rather than an insult. And the section ends on a philosopher with a tangled ball of string, working at it patiently, never reaching an end. The poem is not sneering at him: the thread simply has no end to reach.

بت but
an idol
لا الہ la-ilaha
there is no god — the negation opening the Muslim creed
فلسفی falsafi
a philosopher
سرا sira
the end of a thread; the loose end you need to unravel it

09  — chhupte nahin ho samne aate nahin ho tum

چھپتے نہیں ہو سامنے آتے نہیں ہو تم
جلوہ دکھا کے جلوہ دکھاتے نہیں ہو تم
دیر و حرم کے جھگڑے مٹاتے نہیں ہو تم
جو اصل بات ہے وہ بتاتے نہیں ہو تم

छुपते नहीं हो सामने आते नहीं हो तुम
जल्वा दिखा के जल्वा दिखाते नहीं हो तुम
दैर-ओ-हरम के झगड़े मिटाते नहीं हो तुम
जो अस्ल बात है वो बताते नहीं हो तुम

chhupte nahin ho samne aate nahin ho tum
jalva dikha ke jalva dikhate nahin ho tum
dair-o-haram ke jhagde mitate nahin ho tum
jo asl baat hai vo batate nahin ho tum

You don't hide, and you don't come out in the open. You show yourself, and having shown yourself, you don't show yourself. You don't settle the quarrels between the temple and the mosque. You don't tell anyone what the real matter is.

Four flat accusations, all of them about withholding. The second line is absurd on paper, you show yourself and then do not, and that is the exact experience being described. And the third has a body count behind it. People have been killing each other over the temple and the mosque for centuries, and the poem's complaint is not that God takes the wrong side but that he will not say anything at all.

جلوہ jalva
a showing of oneself; beauty made visible
دیر و حرم dair-o-haram
the temple and the sanctuary; the two houses of worship
اصل asl
the real thing, the root of a matter

10  — hairan hoon mere dil men samae ho kis tarah

حیراں ہوں میرے دل میں سمائے ہو کس طرح
حالانکہ دو جہاں میں سماتے نہیں ہو تم
یہ معبد و حرم یہ کلیسا و دیر کیوں
ہرجائی ہو جبھی تو بتاتے نہیں ہو تم
بس تم اک گورکھ دھندا ہو

हैराँ हूँ मेरे दिल में समाए हो किस तरह
हालाँकि दो-जहाँ में समाते नहीं हो तुम
ये मा'बद-ओ-हरम ये किलीसा-ओ-दैर क्यूँ
हरजाई हो जभी तो बताते नहीं हो तुम
बस तुम इक गोरख धंदा हो

hairan hoon mere dil men samae ho kis tarah
halanki do-jahan men samate nahin ho tum
ye mabad-o-haram ye kalisa-o-dair kyuun
harjai ho jabhi to batate nahin ho tum
bas tum ik gorakh dhandha ho

I cannot work out how you fit inside my heart, when the two worlds together are not big enough to hold you. And why all this — the shrine, the mosque, the church, the temple? You must be unfaithful, and that is exactly why you won't say. You are simply one impossible puzzle.

He calls God harjai, which is what you call a lover who goes everywhere, the word Urdu poetry keeps for someone who cannot be relied on to stay with one person. Having four houses of worship instead of one is, on this reading, not theology but evidence. It is the boldest line in the qawwali and it is delivered as though it were an obvious deduction.

دو جہاں do-jahan
both worlds — this one and the next
معبد mabad
a place of worship
کلیسا kalisa
a church
ہرجائی harjai
one who goes everywhere; an unfaithful lover

11  — nit-nae naqsh banate ho mita dete ho

نت نئے نقش بناتے ہو مٹا دیتے ہو
جانے کس جرمِ تمنا کی سزا دیتے ہو
کبھی کنکر کو بنا دیتے ہو ہیرے کی کنی
کبھی ہیروں کو بھی مٹی میں ملا دیتے ہو

नित-नए नक़्श बनाते हो मिटा देते हो
जाने किस जुर्म-ए-तमन्ना की सज़ा देते हो
कभी कंकर को बना देते हो हीरे की कनी
कभी हीरों को भी मिट्टी में मिला देते हो

nit-nae naqsh banate ho mita dete ho
jaane kis jurm-e-tamanna ki saza dete ho
kabhi kankar ko bana dete ho hire ki kani
kabhi hiron ko bhi mitti men mila dete ho

Day after day you make new designs and rub them out. God knows which crime of wanting it is that you are punishing. Sometimes you turn a pebble into a chip of diamond. Sometimes you grind diamonds back into the dirt.

Here the poem stops asking questions and starts describing behaviour. Jurm-e-tamanna, the crime of longing, assumes there must be a charge, because there is clearly a sentence. And the two directions of the second couplet are the real complaint: not that God destroys, but that he does both, at random, with the same hand.

نقش naqsh
a design, an imprint
جرمِ تمنا jurm-e-tamanna
the crime of longing for something
کنی kani
a chip or splinter of a gem

12  — zindagi kitne hi murdon ko ata ki jis ne

زندگی کتنے ہی مردوں کو عطا کی جس نے
وہ مسیحا بھی صلیبوں پہ سجا دیتے ہو
خواہشِ دید جو کر بیٹھے سرِ طور کوئی
طور ہی بڑھ کے تجلی سے جلا دیتے ہو
نارِ نمرود میں ڈلواتے ہو خود اپنا خلیل
خود ہی پھر نار کو گلزار بنا دیتے ہو

ज़िंदगी कितने ही मुर्दों को 'अता की जिस ने
वो मसीहा भी सलीबों पे सजा देते हो
ख़्वाहिश-ए-दीद जो कर बैठे सर-ए-तूर कोई
तूर ही बढ़ के तजल्ली से जला देते हो
नार-ए-नमरूद में डलवाते हो ख़ुद अपना ख़लील
ख़ुद ही फिर नार को गुलज़ार बना देते हो

zindagi kitne hi murdon ko ata ki jis ne
vo masiha bhi salibon pe saja dete ho
khvahish-e-did jo kar baithe sar-e-tur koi
tur hi badh ke tajalli se jala dete ho
nar-e-namrud men dalvate ho khud apna khalil
khud hi phir naar ko gulzar bana dete ho

The one who gave life back to so many of the dead — even that messiah you set out on a cross. And if someone on Sinai goes so far as to ask to see you, you let the mountain itself rise up and burn him with your blaze. You have your own friend thrown into Nimrod's fire — and then you turn the fire into a rose garden yourself.

Three cases, all with the same structure, where the gift and the punishment come from one source. Saja dena means to arrange or decorate something, which is a chilling verb to use of a crucifixion. And the third case is what stops the argument being simple. Abraham is called khalil, the friend of God, thrown into the fire by God's own arrangement and then saved by it. Nothing here is consistent, and the poem's case is that inconsistency is the pattern.

مسیحا masiha
the messiah; in Urdu poetry, anyone who heals
طور tur
Mount Sinai, where Moses asked to see God
تجلی tajalli
a blaze of divine manifestation
خلیل khalil
the friend — the title given to Abraham
گلزار gulzar
a rose garden

13  — chah-e-kanan men phenko kabhi mah-e-kanan

چاہِ کنعان میں پھینکو کبھی ماہِ کنعاں
نورِ یعقوب کی آنکھوں کا بجھا دیتے ہو
بیچو یوسف کو کبھی مصر کے بازاروں میں
آخر کار شہِ مصر بنا دیتے ہو

चाह-ए-कन'आन में फेंको कभी माह-ए-कन'आँ
नूर याक़ूब की आँखों का बुझा देते हो
बेचो यूसुफ़ को कभी मिस्र के बाज़ारों में
आख़िर-ए-कार शह-ए-मिस्र बना देते हो

chah-e-kanan men phenko kabhi mah-e-kanan
nur yaqub ki aankhon ka bujha dete ho
becho yusuf ko kabhi misr ke bazaron men
aakhir-e-kar shah-e-misr bana dete ho

One day you throw the moon of Canaan down the well of Canaan, and put out the light in Jacob's eyes. Another day you have Joseph sold in the markets of Egypt — and end by making him the king of Egypt.

The whole story of Joseph in four lines, and the wordplay is exact. Chah is a well and mah is the moon, one letter apart, so the most beautiful thing goes into the deepest hole. His father weeps himself blind. Then the market, then the throne. The poem lays out the sequence without comment, because the sequence is the argument.

چاہ chah
a well
ماہِ کنعاں mah-e-kanan
the moon of Canaan — a name for Joseph, for his beauty
نور nur
light

14  — jazb-o-masti ki jo manzil pe pahunchta hai koi

جذب و مستی کی جو منزل پہ پہنچتا ہے کوئی
بیٹھ کر دل میں انا الحق کی صدا دیتے ہو
خود ہی لگواتے ہو پھر کفر کے فتوے اس پر
خود ہی منصور کو سولی پہ چڑھا دیتے ہو
اپنی ہستی بھی وہ اک روز گنوا بیٹھتا ہے
اپنے درشن کی لگن جس کو لگا دیتے ہو

जज़्ब-ओ-मस्ती की जो मंज़िल पे पहुँचता है कोई
बैठ कर दिल में अनल-हक़ की सदा देते हो
ख़ुद ही लगवाते हो फिर कुफ़्र के फ़तवे उस पर
ख़ुद ही मंसूर को सूली पे चढ़ा देते हो
अपनी हस्ती भी वो इक रोज़ गँवा बैठता है
अपने दर्शन की लगन जिस को लगा देते हो

jazb-o-masti ki jo manzil pe pahunchta hai koi
baith kar dil men anal-haq ki sada dete ho
khud hi lagvate ho phir kufr ke fatve us par
khud hi mansur ko suli pe chadha dete ho
apni hasti bhi vo ik roz ganva baithta hai
apne darshan ki lagan jis ko laga dete ho

When somebody finally reaches the stage of absorption and ecstasy, you sit down inside his heart and give the cry: I am the Truth. Then you have him declared an unbeliever — and you are the one who puts Mansur on the gallows yourself. And whoever you infect with the longing to see you loses even his own existence, one of these days.

Mansur al-Hallaj was executed for saying anal-haq, I am the Truth. The poem's version of the story is that God said it, from inside him, and then had him killed for it, and the word khud, yourself, is repeated twice so nobody can miss who is being accused. What follows is the general rule the case illustrates: give a man the longing and you have taken his life, on a schedule of your choosing.

جذب jazb
absorption; being drawn out of yourself towards God
انا الحق anal-haq
I am the Truth — the cry Mansur al-Hallaj was executed for
کفر kufr
unbelief
لگن lagan
a fixed longing; an attachment you cannot shake

15  — koi ranjha jo kabhi khoj men nikle teri

کوئی رانجھا جو کبھی کھوج میں نکلے تری
تم اسے جھنگ کے بیلے میں اڑا دیتے ہو
جستجو لے کے تمہاری جو چلے قیس کوئی
اس کو مجنوں کسی لیلیٰ کا بنا دیتے ہو

कोई राँझा जो कभी खोज में निकले तेरी
तुम उसे झंग के बेले में उड़ा देते हो
जुस्तुजू ले के तुम्हारी जो चले क़ैस कोई
इस को मज्नूँ किसी लैला का बना देते हो

koi ranjha jo kabhi khoj men nikle teri
tum use jhang ke bele men uda dete ho
justuju le ke tumhari jo chale qais koi
is ko majnun kisi laila ka bana dete ho

If some Ranjha sets out in search of you, you scatter him in the scrubland at Jhang. If some Qais starts walking with the longing for you, you turn him into the madman of one Laila or another.

Here the poem leaves scripture and brings in the lovers of Punjab and Arabia, and the charge changes shape. It is no longer that God destroys the seekers but that he redirects them. A man goes out looking for God and ends up ruined over a woman. Majnun simply means possessed, and Qais only became it after Laila. The complaint is about a search being switched onto the wrong object without the searcher noticing.

بیلہ bela
riverside scrub and thicket
جستجو justuju
a search, a seeking
مجنوں majnun
possessed, driven mad — the name Qais was given

16  — jot sassi ke agar man men tumhari jaage

جوت سسی کے اگر من میں تمہاری جاگے
تم اسے تپتے ہوئے تھل میں جلا دیتے ہو
سوہنی گر تم کو مہینوال تصور کر لے
اس کو بپھری ہوئی لہروں میں بہا دیتے ہو

जोत ससि के अगर मन में तुम्हारी जागे
तुम उसे तपते हुए थल में जला देते हो
सोहनी गर तुम को महिवाल तसव्वुर कर ले
इस को बिफरी हुई लहरों में बहा देते हो

jot sassi ke agar man men tumhari jaage
tum use tapte hue thal men jala dete ho
sohni gar tum ko mahinval tasavvur kar le
is ko biphri hui lahron men baha dete ho

If your flame wakes in the heart of a Sassi, you burn her up in the blazing sands of the Thal. If a Sohni so much as imagines you as her Mahiwal, you carry her off in the raging water.

The two Punjabi heroines, and the two elements. Sassi went into the desert after Punnun and died of the heat. Sohni crossed the river to Mahiwal on a clay pot and drowned when it dissolved. Both are here for the same reason as Mansur and Joseph: they wanted, and the wanting killed them. Putting village lovers in the same list as prophets is the most Punjabi thing in the poem, and the least respectable.

جوت jot
a flame, a lamp lit in devotion
تھل thal
the Thal — the desert Sassi died crossing
تصور tasavvur
imagining, holding a picture in the mind

17  — khud jo chaho to sar-e-arsh bula kar mahbub

خود جو چاہو تو سرِ عرش بلا کر محبوب
ایک ہی رات میں معراج کرا دیتے ہو
تم اک گورکھ دھندا ہو

ख़ुद जो चाहो तो सर-ए-'अर्श बुला कर महबूब
एक ही रात में मे'राज करा देते हो
तुम इक गोरख धंदा हो

khud jo chaho to sar-e-arsh bula kar mahbub
ek hi raat men meraj kara dete ho
tum ik gorakh dhandha ho

And when you feel like it, you call your beloved right up to the throne and grant him the whole ascension in a single night. You are one impossible puzzle.

The poem's last card, and it changes the colour of everything before it. The same power that burnt the mountain and filled the well does this: one night, the whole distance, no waiting. So the complaint was never that God cannot be reached. It is that there is no method, nothing you can do to get the one outcome instead of the other. That, at the end of an hour of argument, is what he means by an impossible puzzle.

سرِ عرش sar-e-arsh
at the highest heaven, at the divine throne
معراج meraj
the ascension — the Prophet's night journey to the heavens

Reading it whole

The tone is the whole achievement here. This is not doubt and it is not blasphemy. It is the exasperation of somebody who has been let down repeatedly by a person he has no intention of leaving, and anyone who has had that relationship with a human being will recognise the register immediately.

The first half is built out of arguments that fold back on themselves. If nothing exists except you, why bother with a veil, and who is being hidden from? If negation itself points at you, then denying you is a kind of proof. If I never imagined you, where did I get the idea? Each one is a small trap, and each has the same shape: the poem catches God in a contradiction and then, rather than concluding that he is not there, concludes that he is a puzzle. Everything depends on that distinction.

The frustration running through the whole poem has a name by the eighth section. Come into my hands and you are an idol; stay out of them and you are God. Anything that can be held is a made thing, and the one quality keeping God from being an idol is being out of reach. So the complaint and the devotion are the same gesture: what he cannot reach is the only thing he would bother reaching for.

The second half stops arguing and starts listing, and the list is a strange one. Jesus given the power to raise the dead and then hung on a cross. Moses asking to see, and the mountain set alight. Abraham thrown into Nimrod's fire, which is then turned into a rose garden. Joseph dropped down a well, sold in a market, made ruler of Egypt. Mansur taught to say I am the Truth and then executed for saying it. The same hand does both things every time, and the complaint is not that God is cruel, only that there is no telling which way it will go. Then the list turns homeward, to Punjab's own lovers. Ranjha scattered in the scrubland at Jhang, Qais turned into Majnun, Sassi burnt up in the Thal, Sohni carried off by the river. All four went looking, all four were destroyed by the looking, and they are filed in exactly the same column as the prophets. Anyone who came looking is on the list.

And then the ending, which is why the poem never turns bitter. When you feel like it, he says, you call your beloved right up to the throne and grant him the whole ascension in a single night. The same power that burns the mountain does that too. There is no rule, no method, nothing anybody can do to make it come out one way rather than the other, and that, finally, is what he means by an impossible puzzle. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's recording is the one everybody knows, and live it runs well past an hour.

How it rhymes

Every second line closes on the same word — تم اک گورکھ دھندا ہو , tum ik gorakh dhandha ho. That repetition is the radif. Hearing the two land together at the close of every section is most of what makes this form sound the way it does.

Recordings

Read next

All 128 poems, A to Z

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 qawwali as performed is far longer than any printed text, and qawwals fold in couplets by other poets between Naz Khialvi's own. The order of sections varies between performances.

One of the interpolated couplets — come into my hands and you are an idol, stay out of them and you are God — is older than this qawwali and is generally credited elsewhere.

Naz Khialvi died in 2010, so this poem is still in copyright. It is quoted here as the subject of Harf's own criticism: the translation, the reading of each section 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.