HAPPY NEW YEAR, 2011

Happy New Year to all my blog visitors, contributors and friends, with the prayer that this year would be the happiest, most successful and most brilliant for all of you...I pray you all be blessed with faithful year ahead...I also hope your appreciative visits of my blog with expert and scholarly suggestions and contributions....
Mubarak Ali Lashari
PhD Scholar
Islamabad

Quadruplet of Ustad Bukhari

Quadruplet of Ustad Bukhari

We aren’t chaff; we’re tad of clay;

If you dare walk over, you may!

We aren’t gram, are we, stuff of steel;

If you dare chew up, you may!

اسين بهه نه آهيون، اسين ڀونءِ آهيون،

لتاڙي سگهو ٿا ته بيشڪ لتاڙيو!

اسين چڻا ڪين آهيون، جي آهيون ته رڪ جا،

چٻاڙي سگهو ٿا ته بيشڪ چٻاڙيو!

Translated from Sindhi into English by Muhammad Iqbal Bozdar

MY SCATTERED DREAMS: Poem by Hamza Hassan Shaikh

MY SCATTERED DREAMS 

Poem by Hamza Hassan Shaikh

Papers on canvas, taking brush in hand,

Drawing up the marvelous love of land.

It was the scene of the past and today,

Who slew my feelings in pathetic way.

On a sheet I drew a coquettish face,

A fairy was posing with smiling grace.

Whose eyes were staring at me with love’s shine,

The scene was charming, the weather was fine.

But all vanished and she was near me,

Like butterfly, flew away abruptly.

To catch her, in moment, advanced my hand

When canvas fell, my dreams dashed in sand.

Culture, Language, Literature: The Taste of time. Poem by Mushtaq Gabol

Culture, Language, Literature: The Taste of time. Poem by Mushtaq Gabol: "The Taste of time Poem by Mushtaq Gabol Its (time’s) speedIs like oceanic horse’s momentumAnd menAnt-speed trudge.How can they race?It do..."

The Taste of time. Poem by Mushtaq Gabol

The Taste of time

Poem by Mushtaq Gabol

Its (time’s) speed

Is like oceanic horse’s momentum

And men

Ant-speed trudge.

How can they race?

It doesn’t remain steady, besides,

For some, it is twisting

Kind, for some and

Beast for others,

And men

Are, almost, prey to it;

Since last twenty eight years,

Besides dispossession, duress and grieves

What have I gotten from it?

Then

How can I taste the flavor of life?

For me

The time, however, doesn’t change its taste.

Translated from Sindhi into English by Mubarak Ali Lashari

Culture, Language, Literature: Penitence Poem by Saeed Memon

Culture, Language, Literature: Penitence Poem by Saeed Memon: "Penitence Poem by Saeed MemonGetting the pain in extremeI smashed my lipsIn the inauspicious life I suffered a lot!I erected numerous..."

Penitence Poem by Saeed Memon

Penitence  

Poem by Saeed Memon

Getting the pain in extreme

I smashed my lips

In the inauspicious life

I suffered a lot!

I erected numerous dreams

And

Razed all those accordingly.

Always on the way to beloved

Unknowingly, why have feet been jogging up towards!?

Neither stopped the innermost craving

Nor feet did discontinue!

In the finale

I drowned, and with me,

 Some innocents too!

Didn’t think over their bleak tomorrow

Now

Youth had departed

And

Aged hands are hectic wiping out tears..

نظم

سعيد ميمڻ

مليو درد ايڏو

اسان چپ ڀڪوڙيا

اڀاڳي حياتي رڳو ڏينهن لوڙيا

سوين خواب جوڙيا

سوين خواب ٽوڙيا

سدائين پرين جا پئي پنڌ ووڙيا

اسان جا قدم ڇو اجايو پئي ڊوڙيا؟

نه من ئي مڙيو پئي نه ئي پير موڙيا!

پڄاڻي اها ٿي

ٻڏاسين اسان ڀي

۽ معصوم ٻوڙيا

نه سوچيو انهن جي سياه آئيندي تي!

جواني جدا ٿي

پيا هاڻ ڳوڙها اگهن هٿ پوڙها!

Translated into English by Mubarak Ali Lashari

Shaik Ayaz: the Poet of Liberty and Land

Shaikh Ayaz (1923-1997) is considered philosophical poet of Sindhi Language. Not only in Sindhi but he also contributed to the literature of Urdu and Seraiki language. His full name was Shaikh Mubarak Ali but later on came to be known as Shaikh Mubarak Ayaz or Shaikh Ayaz. He gave us more than 60 books of high caliber literature having written in many literary genres. His writing style and diction was as unique in all the language as he had command over many languages. In Dr. Badir Ujan’s words, “Shaikh Ayaz is the man who is a poet of high caliber, a well-read scholar, a multi-lingual master and a popular prose writer.” Yes, it is fact that Ayaz was a well-read poet who loved books and knowledge like mom loves her toddler. His this tendency and deep study of the world literature, literary trends and movements, philosophy, politics and humanity is sprouting out of his books, poetry, stories, poetic dramas and essays like the torrent of pure water.

It was the December of 1997, when I heard the news of the giant leaving this world for eternal abode. I felt like a colossal fortification of our generation came down, and the sound and new writings of that giant would never be heard again. Yet it was the deep satisfaction that he had erected such a massive China Wall in the world of literature and humanity that would never be dampened until and unless the world is alive. I felt so burdened to hear that there seemed mirages of the birth of such a persons to replace him till centuries.

In the perspective of his poetical foundation, if someone seriously and critically may think, the idea of owning the indigenous culture and liberty will seem on towering. He says about the liberty of humanity as:

I leave in my legacy for you,

The liberty of thought,

It is the liberty,

Birds have inherited,

Liberty!

For you it is

My heritage, my prayer!

مان تو کي ورثي ۾ خيال جي

آزادي ڏيان ٿو

آزادي جا پکي جو ورثو آهي.

“آزادي”

اهو منهنجو تو لاءِ

ورثو به آهي، دعا به آهي.

Someone having aesthetic sense, sympathetic values, love for humanity and importance of nature may look deep in the above lines of Ayaz that the liberty is his legacy as well as his prayer. He relates this liberty not only the right of man but it is as the part of nature as birds inherited and mankind espoused. Due to that liberty today’s world is thinking in terms of inspirations and aspirations to the advancement and welfare. He emphasized over this liberty because he had felt the suffering mankind historically and read the tears and bleedings in the pages of history and literature. Thus his vision was for the whole world irrespective of any boundary. This is affirmed by Dr. Malik Naddem as, “Shaikh Ayaz is a great poet of not only Sindh, but he is universal poet. He has collected in his poetry the roses of tears & sorrows of ours in particular and human being of the world in general.” He learned a lot from the sorrows of human suffering and adopted the way on Mansoor, Socrates, Spartex, Shah Inayat, Makhdoom Bilawal, and all the freedom lover icons in the world history. He knew it all completely that there should never be any compromise on freedom, no surrender, no submission, no acquiescence, and never giving up. So he never laid his arms of resistance and liberty down. He says;

Never in my life

Did I submit to anyone?

Happy is the moment

That lives in liberty!

ڪنهن جي اطاعت، آءَ نه ڪئي عمر ۾،

سرهي سا ساعت، جنهن ۾ آزادي هجي.

He thus preferred rather living a short moment in liberty than the longer life in slavery and compliance to someone else. That’s why he being a poet was put into prison because of his love of freedom and his faith in humanity. It is justified by Dr. A. R Malik, ex Vice Chancellor of Shah Abdul Latif University, Kahirpur Sindh in the words, “Shaikh Ayaz earned great name and fame for his wisdom & literary contribution in his time. The message of great poet as we all know, the world need today than any other time before, hence made available for all fans of Shaikh Ayaz today and fond of good poetry irrespective of caste & color, race and religion.”

Furthermore his greatest contribution to the indigenous poetic conception is his defiance to external influence in the literature. The seed to own one’s native language, culture, trends, and values was sowed by the greatest poet Shah Abdul Latif, hundreds of years ago saying:

فارسي پڙهيو توءِ گولو ۽ غلام،

عامن سندو عام، خاصن مان نه ٿئي.

If you study align language (discarding own) you would remain slave,

You will be considered man of straw, never legitimate one.

That cultivation was enriched by Shaikh Ayaz who sung the songs of the land and used the local poetic device like metaphors, similes, paradoxes, personification, puns, and symbols and so on. He preferred to sing his sorrows in the native language and in native tone. He affirmed as,

Tearful tales my talent has given me

I have sung the sorrows of whole country.

ڏنيون مون کي ڏات، ڳوڙهن ڀريون ڳالهڙيون،

لنوي منهنجي لات، ڏکڙا ساري ڏيهه جا.

In the above couplet he expressed the sorrows he has gotten from his deep study of suffering of the people which degenerated due to his sensitive feelings and acute talent. Consequently, his songs sang the sorrows of the native brethren in their own terms and provisos. It is because before this movement of adopting native vocabulary and terminology, the poets were used to depend on alien and foreign terms, words and poetic techniques. They were influenced by the far-off poets and poetic figures of speech. Thus poets like Shaikh Ayaz came up with the idear to come to terms with indigenous lifestyle and poetic expressions. In all of those literary figures, Shaikh Ayaz is towering and unmatchable icon. He would ever be remembered beyond the restrictions of time and space.

(Written to commemorate Shaikh Ayaz on his occasion of his anniversary in the month of December, 2010)

mubaraklashari78@gmail.com

Why I studied and Started Writing: An Innocent Opinion

Why I studied and Started Writing: An Innocent Opinion

When I came to the wits, almost at the end of schooling, I observed the panorama of things around me. It was quite startling for my innocent feeling and thinking what I have educated from the books, took notice from teachers and became acquainted with from TV icons; found this world quite opposite to the orientations. It was though already supposed by my mentors for me that I have precocious talent, but later on I found that I am sensitive enough regarding the contradictions of the allusions and practical happenings. When I took bird’s eye view with the following some points, which led me and demanded doing more than what I assumed for my life to have approach towards the wider world.

First of all, it was difficult enough for me, locally, to adjust the learning of the education and books with the real world; where there were always broken rules and regulations, disregard for the human sympathy, unfairness in the fair conduct of life and so on. There might be argumentation, as I always found, that it was long enslavement of the people blurring their way of life, code of conduct and deformity of the cultural values; more painful thing was that there was no road leading to improvement. I stood up bearing the flag of change in mind, enthralling the knowledge to utilize, and accumulating energy to exercise in that direction but almost in vain. There were no sufficient sources, libraries, institutes, encouraging elements, and responses to the slogan.

On the other hand, nationally, there was wretched picture surrounding me. Governments were formed and broken more often through coup d’etat, constitution was torn into pieces by all and sundry, institutions were incarcerated by personal interests and gains. Apart of all above problems, there was no integrity in people, no strong ingrained ideology, devoid of true of developmental and progressive vision. People were divided into ethnic groups, localities, tribalism and self-centered motivations.

Last but not least, when I looked around to the world scenario, there were appalling features from the olden times. Likewise, I came to discern the horrors of World Wars in the twentieth centuries, which prospected my world compass reading with the aim of broadening my epistemological possibility. Furthermore, the cold war, ethnic cleansing in the miscellaneous parts of the world, and the current economic recession forced me to stand out of the cabin. Thenceforth, I decided to stand for the world welfare in order to outstanding work and realization.

Throughout the course, I remained unstill to find the way of lofty humanistic non-pandemonium that may take me to the universal values and vision, which is never possible in a corner, where I live, of the huge complexities of the world. I imagine that all the objectives stated are not undemanding in today’s world for the reason that it is the world of simulation and signs of the postmodernism where there is much more tumult than ever in the human history. That way I can get my fellowmen service dream true through getting the true epistemology of knowledge over there.

mubaraklashari78@gmail.com

A Walk

Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke

A Walk

My eyes already touch the sunny hill. going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; it has ITS inner light, even from a distance- and charges us, even if we do not reach it, into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are; a gesture waves us on answering our own wave... but what we feel is the wind in our faces. Translated by Robert Bly

Book Review:Democracy the only Way for Pakistan

Book Review

Title of Book: Democracy the only Way for Pakistan

By Benazir Bhutto

Published By: Shaheed Benazir Bhutto Archives SZABIST, Karachi

Pages: 177

Price: 360 PKR

Reviewed By: Mubarak Ali Lashari

Living political History and Affirmative Stances

“and he would take us to the lands” she describes her political bringing up by the hands of her father Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, “and he would tell me, ‘Look at the way these people sweat that you will have the opportunity to be educated, and…And you have a debt and you’ve got to come back and pay that debt by serving your people”. And having the sense of heavy responsibility on her shoulders she did not bow down unless given her precious life in the name of stabilizing the democracy in the country where according to her ‘politics was a man’s world’. And in this way she continued to work as politician though entered reluctantly and accidentally after the hanging up of her father by a dictator and thus paid the heavy debt of it.

The book titled “Democracy the Only Way for Pakistan” of her interviews, a talk and articles, Shaheed Benazir Bhutto depicts a panorama of checkered Pakistani political history and her personal experiences and aspirations ranging from her childhood to the height of ruling country, remaining under male obsession, exiled life and dethroning conspiracies as well. She sometimes according to the interviewers skirts the issues directly but often speaks out openly and thoroughly though knowing that ‘Tomorrow they may decide to kill me because I know too much’, affirming.

            She according to her own opinions expressed, up to reaching the political dignity has sought the influence of two persons in her life which surely determined her political career and personal approach to face the challenges ahead. One of the influencing personalities was obviously her father, Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, who according to her was the person who showed the world according to her, to live a life of lion’s one day rather than the Jackal’s life of thousand. She seemed so much under the influence of Shaheed Bhutto and his political aspirations that in Pakistan’s later development she imagined his perspective and behaviors. On the other hand she admits the influence of, ‘my teacher in the Convent of Jesus and Mary, Mother Eugene’.  In affirmation of both the persons she says, “My father gave me a love for books. He loved reading books and he’d make sure that I bought books and he’d buy me books. And then Mother Eugene made my imagination run wild through Shakespeare~Twelfth Night and Julius Caesar~and Keats and Browning and Byron”.

By such perspective she comes to become determinant Benazir Bhutto to change the politics of Pakistan from ‘man’s world into human’s world’. In the course of her political career to lead Pakistan People’s Party, initially faces the ‘factionalism’ of her father’s party and legacy. Yet she according her acclamation did not loose her struggle because she says there is a natural process of the politics, ‘those who are with you stay with you and those who are not, let the parting come’.

Thus the book of her interviews and articles, in which 17 detailed and snapshot interviews and 6 most useful articles are included, seems like an umbrella covering the many facets of Shaheed Benazir Bhutto’s life, political career and the multifaceted political history of Pakistan, in which she describes detailed accounts of conspiracies and backdoor influences during her two term government. Not only to this, she has also honestly describes the acts that have been missed to materialize and were the stakeholder for the betterment of common people and country during her two tenures in government but she also gives a good future vision for establishing democracy and prosperous Pakistan in the world. When asked about the mistakes she committed during her two terms of governance, she openly admits, “The stories of corruption hurt. Foreign policy was hawkish. Defense purchases were controversial”. And she also gives her future vision if came in power, that can be a beacon light for the present PPP government. She manipulates her program as, “I hope to have the support of the press next time round through a more open policy enabling full facts to reach them and the public”.

The well-published book having standard paper and excellent title cover with Shaheed Benazir Bhutto’s live picture, in the due course is replete with the historical affirmations of the Martyred Leader of the country and appeals to read it thoroughly in order to understand the palace-conspiracies as well as the MI intervening in the political arena of Pakistan. For instance she says, “in December 1988, within a week of my forming the government, Brigadier Imtiaz working at the ISI Internal began contacting political parties to overthrow my government”. She also forms her opinion in interviews that she has been tortured on being a woman Prime Minster of a Muslim country where woman is a private property of man and lives within four walls of a house and been refused by some military personnel to accept her premiership and authority. In this perspective she enters into ‘fervor feministic rhetoric’ to justify her points.  Furthermore she has been saying ‘battling with presidents’ because they wanted presidential system of democracy in contrary to her parliamentary democratic aspirations. moreover, she complaints of being a victim of personal prejudice of the president Farooq Laghari during her second tenure when she quotes a relative of President Laghari saying that he (Laghari) could not tolerated the government of Ms Bhutto when her husband Asif Zardari made a video of one of his child. Thus the President’s ghairat did not allow him to continue her government.

In this book Shaheed Benazir Bhutto at the one hand complaints against internal military intrusion fiasco and on the other hand laments over immature political parties and their programs. But one thing is believable that she had an acute eye on internal as well as external affairs of the country. Because when President Musharaf goes to India for Agra Summit, she shows the concern of ‘legitimacy crises of the Musharaf government and backup. By the same time she looks into the economical and budget affairs as well.

Szabist, and Madame Nusrat Lashari have taken an admirable step to collect the interviews and valuable intellectual assets of Shaheed Benazir Bhutto in publishing the book, which verily be an excellent addition in the political history of Pakistan.

Engrossed in the Princess!

Engrossed in the Princess!

Life is not wrought itself, neither unreservedly preordained, as can be taken- even fortune has given vent to the objective influences to figure it socially, psychologically and personally. I observed in infancy, the tender heart of mom…positivity and inclination of dad to raise me up to the adolescence in cheerful and pleasant atmosphere. Taking my little finger (regarding conduct) taught me the ways and manners of life and gave my tongue words sweeter rather than hurting ones, and both immersed in my pleasure and good bringing up. In the multitude of figures around even icons found hither and thither, have littlest or hugest sway over me, might be on more than a few like me, Princess lady Diana, of Wales, had abound. I imagined her smiling face, silvery shining teeth and blonde hair, rather gold like..but proliferate in her smile and jovial. First of all it patented my thinking enormously and undyingly, not because of her Royalty, which was superfluous or irrelevant for me then though, but because of her activism in the world ebulliently.

Not cramped to it for me, in her idealism, I sensed the activism of the charming, brilliant-compassion Lady Diana , in the meadow of sympathetic work towards painful humanity, in distress, in gloom, in utter devastation, to eradicate that from them, to inspire, share the bits of majestic pleasure with them. I established the microbes in me, then and now and perhaps in entire of my life, serving on the level of downtrodden strata, allocating my tinny energetic thoughtful provocations for the needy. I imagined Princess’s presence among the handicapped people, war-stricken disables, unable for themselves, AIDS inflicted innocent, who knowing or unknowingly touched the death-stone and were in craving stage for death; might have felt the soft hands of the princess, her squashy and loving words; how joyfully had they wished for life like…! Their yearning I felt from the depth of my sensitivity and yearning their prayers while raising their hapless and helpless hands pointing injured fingers, all those blessings what were for the Princess, seeing her among them. I then visited, unconsciously and unwontedly, towards my grandmother feeling softness of her wrinkled hands, which trembled like a fish out of water. I tried to discern the situation, were I there, among those, consoling, smiling, embracing…..! The accomplishment of the regal Princess in the arena of human-welfare had had me from top to bottom. I even dreamt of the mission undertaking beyond the limits of colour, caste, class, category, like her magnificence. In the school, street, alley, neighbour, and even home, my senses remained engrossed to be concerned with anything anywhere anytime. Once found a cat on way to home from schooling could not cross the periphery without alighting from the dad’s car and grabbing that irrespective of the blood-stains, messiness and the looks of the people. Although verily such animals are burrowed into the menial and inferior sensation and significance yet it was lofty and pleasing for me, even ignoble to think so. I immediately requested dad turning towards the nearby hospital and have full treatment to utmost satisfaction and even liked to take them home and tend to the liveliness not to mention the ill-children and beggars. Their sight even brought the reasonable shower and flow of tears to marking the cheeks, which even wasn’t affordable for my affectionate parents. The look of hospitals teeming with the ill-fated patients, peoples of under-privileges on the one hand disappointed and gave dejected vent to my infant senses and also roused my aspirations to work and dedicate myself like the Princess on the other. Consequently, the figure of the Princess develops into my mind as the beacon light in the direction of working for the well-being of this world and preserving it for the coming generation.

Moreover her intrepid daring in the world of males; voyaging all the nooks and corners of the world was another saga for me to brood over. Her femininity had such a marvelous undertaking that under-shadowed my fears in the world all around. Her courageous endeavourers led me to imagine broadly; across the self and surrounding. With the intention of functioning in her way, I took for granted my scope of living that gave me wide-perspective paradigm of being and welfare of it at all costs and at all stipulations. That is my capital and earning, now and then to forthcoming times. In every step of life, academic and extra-academic deeds I ever muster my steps, fancying the courage of the noble Princess.

Negative Capability or Self-Merging?

Negative Capability or Self-Merging?

What goes on all the way through one’s entire life is not possible to inculcate the record of the things. There may be some too important things while some too trivial to discourse. Sometimes larger facts are ignored sometimes minute happening are instilled. This too happened with my serene mind and innocence contemplation. I was unaware, though may be yet too, the things surrounded my mind, cognition and ingenuousness. Seeing my father’s engrossed attention towards me, sacrificial spirit and granting all the worthy requirements at finger tips created weird and wonderful feeling in my intellect. I still too much experience absorbed in the sense of endowing oneself with the happiness of others-- loosing for finding something. At the stage of sensing poetry especially the eastern Mystical one, gave me much corresponding counter and opened the window of merging-self existence to something in addition. In the perspective, nevertheless not at too lofty stage of appreciation of the self-denial poetry, yet too touchy and closely readings of John Keats solved my enigma to much extent. His creation of Negative Capability is what?... I pondered over—taking the context of my parents; reviewing my child-like occupation of the cognition; why one finds oneself in others’ happiness? Though parents, lovers, fond of persons- in flowers, scents, books, money- not to be counted things at all! Isn’t Negative Capability that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, mystery, doubts, without any irritable reaching after facts and reasons…? If taken so Keats proposes the theory of Negative Capability for the sake of expressing the immortality of the beauty of the song of bird. Is that immortality that I have been seeing in the eyes of parents…? Or even found my own innocent indulgence absorbed to tackle the phenomenon? How much the commencement of the poem “Ode to nightingale” is paradoxical when he says:

A drowsy numbers pain

My senses,

A bivalent emotion of sane and sensibility prevails to create the sensory beauty of drowsiness to feel not for escape but share the ecstasy with the bird:

‘T is not through envy of thy happy a lot,

But being too happy with thy happiness,

This cliché ‘happy with thy happiness’ has prevailed on my senses now and again. Surely! That is the absolute willing submission and surrender of individual to explore the pleasure of full swing of the song of Nightingale (in concealing outfit, though), which I have been observing and thoughtfully overtaken…so Keats denied his existence and merges with the soul of bird. Is it the thing to be looked for..worked.. Shouldn’t be taken to perfection? That isn’t the Eastern Hindu and Mystical mortification? Or so…! Because it is not the ecstasy of bird but the inner happiness of Keats (person’s selfloosing in other things and discovering unification). It seems like the soul of Nightingale and Keats are fused together. Eh..Not only one thing but are referents….or one’s escapism? From objective things to subjectivity…. strange? Is it the vision of Keats that not only pleases embroiders on reality but giving the spiritual interpretation behind this phenomenon world or is he overwhelmed by sense of beauty of the song that blinds to account what is around him?:

I can’t see what flower is at my feet,

Nor what soft incense hangs upon the bough,

But, in embalmed darkness, uses each sweet

Where with the seasonable month endows

The grass, the thicket, and the fruit tree wild:

Lets see… wonderful, it is dark but his sensuous beauty recognizes each fruit and flower elusively. I feel the transcendence in the light of imagination to the mysterious scene where Keats sees that song is listened thousand years ago by Ruth, a Biblical character and even a young Maid, who is captivated in a mysterious castle near a for sea shore. In the sequence my flight of imagination bores the relation on my being, soul, body, structure, colour, race religion so on and so forth. Am I not the part of the lineage… seen in individual… continuity of great great grandfathers and grandmothers? It seems me like the whole structure of the universe divided into pieces; letters, words, sentences, language, communication, human conduct, culture, humanity, civilizations, cosmopolitan, universe…never ending! Similarly drops of water forming mighty oceans, little grains of sand forming large mounds…! Then don’t I live in my fore fore fathers..mothers..? Don’t they live in me? I am not now but I was then too and would be ever after in future! They were not then; they are now too and would be ever after. I took the point of may parent’s delight, their sacrifices, their subduing before offspring before me.. other children. This mortification of life and life is destined to mortify as like all other things. I did away the fear of death, fear of loosing anything; loosing something is actually achieving other…! Then my favourite concept expressed in Keatsian terminology Negative Capability? Self-Merging? Diversity in Unity and Unity in Diversity? Why negative… it is actually positive capability… the globe is alive in diversity that is unity in truth!

 

Culture, Language, Literature: Happy Valentine’s Day

Culture, Language, Literature: Happy Valentine’s Day: "Happy Valentine’s Day The sun, to evaporate your tears Fresh cool breeze, to blossom your life Clouds, as a blessed umbrella for your shelte..."

Culture, Language, Literature: Education

Culture, Language, Literature: Education: "Education: an ever underestimated sector The world is well aware of the importance of the education in this age of ultra-swift communicati..."

Homi K. Bhabha’s Concept of Mimicry

Homi K. Bhabha’s Concept of Mimicry

General Statement---Bahabha’s Concept of Mimicry---Use of Ambivalence in Mimicry by Bhabha---Fanon’s Psychoanalysis---Mimicry as Resemblance not Resistance---conclusion

The aim of this task is to explore the meaning of mimicry with relation to the study of postcolonial criticism and theory in Homi K. Bhabha’s interpretation in his book “The Location of Culture”. According to Oxford Advanced Learners Dictionary; “Mimicry is the art of mimicking somebody/something”. And mimic is to copy somebody’s voice, gesture, etc. in order to amuse people.

“When colonial discourse encourages the colonial subject to ‘mimic’ the colonizer, by adopting the colonizer’s cultural habits, assumptions, institutions and values, the result is never a simple reproduction of those traits. Rather, the result is a ‘blurred copy’ of the colonizer that can be quite threatening”.

(Bill Ashcroft et al, 1990: p.139)

In the above sense of to mimic the traits of colonizers is not complete beneficial for colonizers, its ends are spoiled image and caricature of the masters, though may it be desirable for them too. That “blurred” copy is threatening to colonizers, their civilizations and images.

Homi K. Bhabha’s concept of mimicry is a strategy of colonial power/knowledge which has a desired goal for the inhabitants of approval and changed outlooks in terms of inclusion and exclusion. Inclusion aims the acceptance of “good natives” as the colonizers programmers and exclusion puts the goal of disavowal and denouncing the majority “bad natives”. Bhabha further defines mimicry in the term of ambivalence as similar and dissimilar. Similarity defines its resemblance to the masters, colonized subjects to be like masters and dissimilarity: “a difference that is almost the same, but not quite”. (Bhabha 1994:86)

Again the concept of Bhabha’s mimicry is related to Sartre’s Existentialist theory of “inauthenticity and role-playing” but Bhabha gives mimicry different inflection of the individual crisis which is contrasted to, the mimicry that comes from “colonized subject’s peculiar awareness of cultural, political, and social inauthenticity, of being ideological constructed and fixed in representation”.(An Introduction to Postcolonial Theory p. 130) Further Bhabha draws a line of mimicry and inauthenticity calling it as menace to the mimicry; “A sudden  awareness of inauthenticity, of authority’s constructed and assumed guise, is the menace of mimicry”.(ibid. P.130)

Bhabha takes his initial point from Fanon’s psychoanalysis model in Black Skin, White Masks. Bhabha takes his point of interest from the ‘mask’, due to its menacing effect. Moreover he takes example from the essay “Algeria Unveiled”, in which there is an image of camouflage. “In this Bhabha sees a representative fear of veils, covers, and masks in the actions of the French: “-the veil conceals bombs. The veil that once secured the boundary of the home-the limits of woman-now masks the woman in her revolutionary activity”. (ibid. P.130). Therefore in that context the veil becomes the mark of cultural and religious difference, possibly disguised terrorism. While the term camouflage Bhabha takes from Lacan in his essay “Of Man and Mimicry” in “The Location of Culture” as:

Mimicry reveals something in so far as it is distinct from what might be called an itself that is behind. The effect is camouflage….It is not a question of harmonizing with the background, of becoming mottled-exactly like the technique of camouflage practiced in human warfare.

(Bhabha 1994: 85)

But mimicry at Bhabha is not a representation of resistance but resemblance according to the desires of colonizer master revealed in the Minutes of Macaulay as: “A class of interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern-a class of persons Indian in blood and colour, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and intellect”. (ibid. P.87)

In other words a mimic man may be raised through English school as a missionary educationist wrote in 1819, “to form a corps of translators and be employed in different departments of labour”. (ibid P.78) Descendants of the above sown seeds of colonizers Bhabha traces in the literary mimicry works of Kipling, Forster, Orwell, Naipal etc.

Mimicry in Bhabha’s terms though is the colonial strategy to create the people “to be Anglicized is emphatically not to be English” and though it is clear that Bhabha’s concept of mimicry is repetition not representation, yet this resemblance is threatening to the basis of power and discrimination while preserving difference of, for example, liberty, status, and rights because when Stokes says, “there is a distinctive quality of English civilization……” (An Introduction to Postcolonial Theory; p.132) is threatened.

Knowing this Bhabha too comes to the conclusion that mimicry is both threatening as well as supporting to colonial powers, thus he calls it the metonymy as:

In mimicry, the representation of identity and meaning is rearticulated along the axis of metonymy. As Lacan reminds us, mimicry is like camouflage, not a harmonization of repression of difference, but a form of resemblance, that differs from or defends presence by displaying it in part, metonymically. Its threat, I would add, comes from the prodigious and strategic production of conflictual, fantastic, discriminatory ‘identity effects’ in the play of a power that is elusive because it hides no essence, no ‘itself’.

(Bhabha 1994: 90)

References

 McLeod J. (2007) Beginning Postcolonialism, Manchester University Press New York

Bhabha H.K. (1994). Location of Culture

Ashcroft B. et al (2003) Post-colonial Studies, key concepts, Routledge Taylor and Francis Group: New York

Ashcroft B. et al (  ) An Introduction to Postcolonial Theory

Happy Valentine’s Day

Happy Valentine’s Day
The sun, to evaporate your tears
Fresh cool breeze, to blossom your life
Clouds, as a blessed umbrella for your shelter
A rain of good opportunities, all around you
The rainbow, as a mirror of my reflection
The stars, to show you the right way
And wishing you the bright mornings;
To cheer up your days
Plus velour, for dreaming beyond limits
I am not sending you the flowers
Because they wither very soon
And nature is the only thing
This will last till dooms day
Happy Valentine’s Day

Life and Survival

Life and survival

Life is not a joke
But every so often I feel
It is the survival
That plays pranks
Sometimes makes us happy
At times we weep aside
Happiness fades away very soon
Whereas sorrow lives deep inside
However, if we ask for patience
Allah grants it to us
So we shall lose our hopes
Because hopes are the only ropes
Which can lead us back to life
With more strength and courage beside
and we find in the long run
That life is really full of fun.