Saturday, August 13, 2011

The Beauty of Urdu--Nastaliq Calligraphy

                
             One of the forms of art that strikes me the most is calligraphy, the art of writing, which isn't, sadly,  as prominent or as respected as it used to be, especially in English. Still, it's an art form that you can find in some pretty pedestrian places, in newspapers, magazines, coffee house art collections, and art exhibits (although today it can readily be done on a computer, taking away the humanity of simple handstrokes). I've always felt for the elegant curves of Roman letters, depending on context and style, of the beauty of cursive, which never fails to remind me of my great-grandfather Meulendyke, who inscribed a book from 1913 that I still have today with the handsome curliques of his last name. I've often been saddened by the loss of cursive among this generation, and much of calligraphy too, but I still handwrite whenever I can, and not just in English. 
                 Though I can really appreciate calligraphy in Roman script, I've found I have a great appreciation also for calligraphy in Arabic script, and I'm not alone. Traditional Islamic culture believed that the creation of images in art was competition with Allah, a sign of hubris and humanism that defied the main tenet of Islam's humility before Allah. Therefore, since images were haraam (not permitted), the writing of words, particularly passages from the Qur'an, were seen to be the highest from of art, and calligraphy grew to be a main decorative aspect in Islamic culture, especially in architecture and just plain on-the-page writing. The Persians, conquered by Islam early on, developed the Nastaliq style of writing the Arabic script, which is used generally to write Urdu and Farsi (though computers today present most languages written in Arabic script  through the rather plain Naskh style, which the Arabs use almost unfailingly anyway).  We have so much to give credit to the Persians and their obsession with symmetry and mathematics; would it hurt to add this beautiful rendering of Arabic lettering to the list?
                I hope that to my readers who can't read Nastaliq or Arabic in general that this would appear beautiful to them. But, turning philosophical here, I believe that it's hard to truly appreciate the beauty of calligraphy until you can understand what is written down. So, I hope that you can appreciate a little of the Nastaliq samples that I've put down here. And if you want to learn to read or write Arabic (or Farsi, Urdu, etc.), feel free to ask me for some sources on how to read and write. There's a realm of beauty here in the undulating curves of Arabic calligraphy.
                This first sample is a line of Urdu poetry written down in a classical Nastaliq style. It reads "a life without love is like a flower without aroma." ("Zindagi beghair muhabbat aisi hai jaise beghair khushbu ke phul.")

                This sample is a couplet of Urdu poetry penned by the 19th Century poet Ghalib.
                This sample is another couplet of Ghalib, but this time written with a calligraphised English translation underneath.

                This sample is actually not Nastaliq, but just the Arabic words "houb" ( love) and "salaam" (peace) written so make a literal word-picture in the shape of a dove:
                This sample is just another word-picture, but with the Nastaliq lines replacing a man's hairdo:
                Here is a final sample of the Islamic creed written in decorative calligraphy:


Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Patel--Poem of an Immigrant

                Your last name is the badge
                For every brown face around
                For umpteen pages in the yellowbooks
                Between pages of docile names
                Of  New Jersey Amreekans who can't tell where you're from
                And those who can tell
                They call you curryfaced Hindu dothead
                Patel.
               
                You came here from Gujarat to live a cliche
                To open a corner store and sweat all day
                Pinching pennies and making profits off
                Groceries of Indian food and other stuff
                Knowing you'd have to make your name
                Earning hard money was all in your game
                Enduring smiles of  your fellow NRI desis
                And the hate-crusted grimace of xenophobe crazies.

                Your  kem chos mesh with hey-yos
                On the concrete-hedged streets
                On low-down graffiti'd subway stops
                Where you and your silk sari'd wife
                Get stares from inevitable bystanders
                Reminding you that you're still
                Just that shadowy foreigner named
                Patel.
               
                Your business lifts itself up all of the way
                To clothe you in success and shine for display
                The merits of hard work that can pay off
                In your struggle through the grime and the rough
                But when you find a window shattered by rocks
                A scribbled-up hate-note in the mailbox
                You feel you're a victim of some cruel game
                That lunges on your brown skin and your odd name

                You get letters from your family back home
                Asking about your new-found fortunes
                Asking about your success that
                Has left you so quickly
                And they don't know of your downfall
                Which you can't bear to tell
                Was the result of being an Indian, of being a
                Patel.