Praveen Gadhvi

When Nadir Shah Arrived

We were seated in diwan-e-aam, intuned

To the beat of the mujra, intoxicated,

Swaying like the serpent before the snake-charmer.

Suddenly someone cried,” Nadir Shah has reached India Gate.”

We shrugged and laughed it off.

Let him, we also once came crossing Hindukush.

The news was conveyed to His Majesty.

He was bathing in the Hamam with the houries of heaven.

All dressed up , perfumed, we went to the camp of Nadir Shah.

We prayed,”your Majesty, please settle down in this country!

A cool breeze wafts across this land

And its mujra is enchanting.

Whoever came here, has stayed back.

The Aryans,the sakas, the Persians, the huns,the turks,the mughals.

There is magic in the eyes of this land.”

But Nadir Shah was unmoved.

He took into possession the courtesans we had brought.

We were stripped and driven away like dogs.

He lifted the sword

Against the Mughal sun blazing above the Red Fort

And cried:” Kill! Kill! Kill!”

We cowered in terror like chicken .

We laid the pomp and pride

Of Delhi at his feet.

The emperor too brought gifts: diamonds,

Gems,pearls,the silk of Ahmedabsd.

The perfume of Navsari, princesses and much more.

Rivers of blood flooded the Chandani Chowk .

There we stood watching our naked reflections.

The Iranians raped Mumtaz Mahal

On the Aurangzeb road in broad daylight.

Like the pandavas, we stood with bulging eyes.

We wept, prostrating at the feet of Badshah.

But Nadir Shah did not budge.

It was momentous decision.

Looting, killing, reducing the city to ashes,

Flinging the naked bodies of the princess on the road,

He rode away with his army like Chengeis Khan.

We let out a sigh of relief at last.

Then we listened to the mujra

Of vultures above the blood-dripping Delhi.

When those who had fled returned

A wretched ghazal rose from our lips:

“Let the courage of faith ignite the crusader’s heart,

And the sword of Hindustan will conquer London!”

(Translated by Dr.E.V.Ramakrishnan)

Shadow

O woodcutter,

Cut my shadow.

Lorca

I can be a Hindu,

A Buddhist,

a muslim.

But this shadow

Shall never be severed from me.

The kuldi is gone,

The broom is gone.

But the shadow

Still stalks me.

I can change my name,

My job,

My village,

My caste.

But the shadow

Will never leave me alone.

The language has changed,

The dress,

The gestures.

But the shadow

Plods on resolutely.

I can compose a new smriti,

A new constitution,

A new penal code,

Become a new…

No, for this shadow

Shall stick to me forever.

Pravin Gadhavi
Pravin Gadhavi, born 13 May 1951, is retired  IAS Officer in the Government of Gujarat. A prolific writer, his collections of poetry are Bayonet (1985), Padchhayo (1996) and Tunir (2002). His short story collections are Pratiksha (1995), Antarvyatha (1995) and Surajpankhi. The last publication was given Govt. of Gujarat Award.He has efited ‘Dalit Kavita’ fot Gujarat Sahitya Academy and’Svakiya’(Anthology of Gujarati  Dalit Literature for  Gujarat Sahitya Akademy) along with Harish Mangalam, Dalpat Chauhan

His address: B/17, Someshwar-I, 132 Feet Ring Road, Ahmedabad 380015. Cell: 09427305236