I lived from 1913-2000.
I was from India, and am in the Asian category.
Ali Sardar Jafri was born in Balrampur, in Gonda district in the North Indian State of Uttar Pradesh, into a devout muslim family of landlords. As a child Jafri was exposed to the elegiac poetry of Meer Anees. In such an environment he began composing poetry at an early age. By the thirties he was a well-known poet.
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Jafri did his graduation from Delhi University and later on enrolled himself for the Masters course first in Muslim University, Aligarh, in 1936. He was fortunate to have some of the stalwarts of literature and intellectuals of the time as his teachers at Aligarh. Unfortunately The British were still ruling India at the time and Jafri was expelled from the university for his pronounced anti-British views and actions. In the year 1939/40 he joined Lucknow University, his poems at this time were full of anti-war propaganda and he was expelled from this institution too. He was also arrested and imprisoned for eight months.
Jafri was one of the pioneers of the Progressive Writers’ Movement which was founded in 1936. He was the most potent critic and theorist of the progressive school. He was also a skilled literary journalist and edited the magazine Guftgu, which was a leading organ of the Progressive Writers’ Movement.
In 1942 he left for Bombay and spent most of his life in this metropolis. A friend of revolutionary Turkish poet Nazim Hikmat and Nobel Prize winner Chilean poet Pablo Neruda, Jafri remained the leader of progressive Urdu writers till the end.
Ali Sardar Jafri began his literary career as a writer of fiction with his book Manzil a collection of short stories. Jafri mainly wrote in the genre of Urdu poetry Nazm, which is different from the Ghazal. In its structure, though he also contributed to the other genres significantly. His ideals were based on Marxist teachings and his earlier poems are angry and vehement full of revolutionary propaganda. His later poems though are a masterful blend of intellectual insight and genuine emotions. He liked to experiment with form and quite a few of his poems are in free verse a couple being counted among the best poems in Urdu literature. His poetry also contained freshness of imagery, commitment to the man-on-the-street, and intense love for this country and its diverse cultures. His poetry though was not limited or imprisoned within the ideals of Marxism but Jafri encompassed the great humanistic traditions and compassion of the Sufi and Bhakti movements, the love of nature found in the works of Kalidas, and an assimilative vision of India's composite culture.
Jafri also came to be respected as an editor of critical editions of the works of Mir Taqi 'Mir' and Ghalib, the two poets who influenced the course of Urdu poetry the most. He also edited the works of Kabir and Meera. Jafri wrote erudite introductions to all these books, establishing himself as an unusually insightful critic.
Some of his published works are Parwaz, Nai Duniya Ko Salam, Khoon Ki Lakeer, Amn Ka Sitara, Asia Jaag Utha, Patthar Ki Deewar, Ek Khawab Aur, Pairahan-E-Sharar, Lahoo Pukarta Hai, Ghalib and His Poetry (English; in collaboration with Qurratulain Hyder), Mera Safar (Selected poems in Hindi).
Ali Sardar Jafri was honoured by many awards, some of them the highest in the land. The Government of India conferred upon him the PadamShri. He also received the Iqbal Samman, the highest award of Madhya Pradesh and ultimately he was honoured with the utmost mark of distinction for literature the Gyanpeeth Award. In 1986 the same Aligarh University that had expelled him on account of his participation in the freedom struggle, conferred on him the D. Litt. (Dr. of Literature). He was also honoured by the Government of Pakistan with the government's Iqbal Award.
Ali Sardar Jafri was steeped in the best traditions of secularism and symbolized the essential unity of mankind.
He died in August 2000.
My poetry
Don't look at me so lovingly.
In the soft shadow of your eyelashes
21 lines, 2 comments
I'm a play that's many centuries old.
I expire and become immortal.
121 lines
You were slaves till yesterday, so were we.
And then came the season of freedom bathed in showers of blood...
15 lines
Some vow of loyalty, fully moulded, will arrive by the morn;
the love will arrive, albeit limping, yet it certainly will;
55 lines
The vanishing rains, the fine moments of the ensuing winter
are in flight like butterflies.
67 lines
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