(Translated from original Sindhi)
By JHAMANDAS D. BHATIA, B.A., M.R.S.T. (London)
[Murad Faqir (man of God) of Kandri (near
Rohri, Sind) came from Baloch tribe and was originally an inhabitant of Dera
Ghazi Khan. In the prime of his life he made his living by committing
dacoities, his accomplice, among others, being his cousin Rohal, who, later on,
became one of the renowned Sufi poets of Sind. His notoriety spread
striking terror everywhere and he had ultimately to be externed from Punjab. He
then went to Rajputana and continued his marauding until the Prince of
Jessalmir drove him out of that territory. He then established himself in
Umerkote in Sind. Subsequently, the then Kalhora rulers in Sind offered him and
Rohal the gift of lands and they readily agreed to give up their nefarious
activities. Later on, Rohal became a minister and Murad, too, became a high
official. It was Rohal, however, who, urged by the irrepressible power within
him, renounced all worldly possessions and wandered in quest of his Divine
Charmer. Murad, too, joined him in these wanderings. The turning-point in
Murad’s life came when once some cattle of a neighbouring Syed (religious
preceptor) trespassed in Murad’s lands repeatedly even after Murad had brought
this to the Syed’s notice. He then complained to Rohal saying that in
case the Syed would not arrange to stop that nuisance, he (Murad) would
curse the Syed which would indeed be deplorable for a descendant of the
Holy Prophet. Thereupon, Rohal exclaimed that speaking to the Syed would
not avail; better he who was excited by anger should, slay his ‘self’.
These words pierced Murad’s consciousness like a sharp-pointed spear. There and
then, covering himself with a sheet of cloth, this ‘wounded one’ lay down till
he was blessed with the Sufi’s mystic vision of Oneness with his Maker
and His Creation. His death is believed to have taken place a little earlier
than 1800 A.D. His poetry, unlike that of Shah Latif, is tinged with an
unadulterated Sufi touch. His works in Persian go under the name of
“Diwan-i-Murad”.
–Ram Panjwani and S. L. Shahani.J]
I have neither the features, nor the colour, nor
have I any sense;
Neither have I smeared the rouge, nor have I
applied the antimony;
Neither have I rubbed, nor have I braided the hair.
Neither have I parted my hair, nor have I laboured,
But the One, who is beloved of her Lord, she is, Oh
Murad, a real Suhagin.*
2
The lovers came to sell themselves in the market of
love;
Buoyant within, Oh Murad, they ramble about without
like languishing birds.
None but he who has felt the pinch can value the
wounds of the wounded.
The candy or the eater thereof alone knows the
taste of the candy.
3
She, whose beloved is safe, why needs she must
spin?
Recklessly she roams about, she does not set string
to the wheel
Day after day she wears variegated coloured
clothes,
She, who is a favourite of her Lord, Murad, her
stars are ascendant.
4
The pill of pain, administered by the physician,
Love, leaves not a speck of disease.
Not the slight illness remains within, it drowns
all doubt and suspicion;
It tears the veil. It shows the Real to the eyes
Murad, the Beloved is beside the heart, only if you
would peep within.
5
Know the I, that you may have Me, because I reside
in the I;
Do not look for Me in the deserted places but meet
Me in the I;
I am in you and you in Me; do live thus; give up
thy doubts;
The man, Oh Murad, thou must know and in Me and to
Me must thou bow.
6
Don’t carry thy head with thyself if thou woudst
the Beloved meet;
Divest thyself of reason and then step in;
Renounce all the dirty desires of self and rule it
into obedience;
No place is there for the living, Oh Murad, for the
dead alone can enter.
7
Everyone styles himself a lover, but to be a lover
is not easy,
The first symptom of love is to die when alive and
then live,
To drink draught divine from the hands of the
Cup-bearer every breath of your life,
Then alone is it befitting, Murad, to call oneself
a lover.
8
If union be thy goal, make haste to meet,
Place thy foot in the field before others enter;
None but the “headless” * can enter the
bargain
To die alive, Murad, is useful. All else is
useless.
9
The eyes, a merchant, the Beloved, the ware, Love,
a broker, we made;
The Beloved we got; the anxiety we forgot; for the
bargain we thus paid;
The head and the heart and this body, too, a
sacrifice to love we gave
Murad, the Lord hit upon an excuse; we gave a reed,
a lac we got, instead!
* The one blessed with a husband and so fortunate.
* Without ego.