Parvaaz 🕊️

This was roughly a decade back…I was in my early 20s, doing my post-graduation in Mass Communication and Journalism. While scrambling to understand this world and its workings, I used to eagerly think about the day I’d finally step out of the college with my degree, all geared up to make this world a better place.

Yes, those were the days when world seemed to be, overall, a good place with people who cared deeply, who said what they meant and meant what they said. When trusting people and their stories with all my gut came effortlessly; when i believed that if I look up at the sky for long enough, I can become one with it for a while and feel its vast expanse of calm blue, heaving in my soul (I still believe in this part about the sky)... I digress. This one, for another time.

And so, most of my time as a young Mass Communication student was spent analyzing media, reading through newspapers and magazines; passionately watching debates during the prime time; thinking to myself, “I’ll be part of this fast-paced media fraternity soon...but how?! Do I have what it takes? I don’t even half understand the world out there, let alone having strong well-informed opinions about what really matters.”

Those were days of self-doubt, existential crises, trying to understand my own self, discovering my own niche and of what made me feel belonged. While I was in this limbo, I remember one weekend distinctly. It was a sunny, summer morning. My house was abuzz with breakfast-prep and as usual, dad had neatly stacked up the day’s newspapers on the table for his post-breakfast reading session.

I remember pulling out one of the newspapers while sipping chai, planning to carefully read — like everyday — through the Editorial and Op-eds first and moving on to the news pages later. But that summer morning was different.

For some reason, I picked up the supplement, fully expecting it to be brimming with Page 3 stories — men and women jazzed up posing for the paparazzi, interviews of budding stars who were asked the silliest questions like, ‘Who would you like to stay on a deserted island with, if you could take only 2 people with you?’ and beauty and cosmetics advertisements that screamed, ‘Hide your authenticity! Be like everyone — fair and ofcouse, lovely, wrinkle-less, age-less and size-zero. Duh! Who cares about what’s on the inside?!’

In the middle of all this Page 3 noise, my eyes darted to a corner of the page that looked unusual— there was a tiny painting of a whirling dervish and alongside were some lines in a mix of hindi and urdu. I read and re-read the lines trying to pull out every layer of meaning that it held. It seemed to be just what I was looking for in my moments of seeming insurmountable chaos and self-doubt.

These were lines penned by Allama Iqbal — an author I had never heard of until then.

I cut out this little gem and stuck it carefully in a tiny photo frame in my study. In times to come, whenever pangs of self-doubt crept back into my gut, tightening every nerve of body, swearing to wreck my confidence in one blow — these lines were one of the many that gave me courage, buoying me back into the world, rekindling the fire in my belly and hope in my heart.(Thanks to the supplement editor that weekend..though I would never know who you were.)

Since then, one Urdu word in particular, from these lines, stuck with me forever — ‘Parvaaz’ meaning ‘the first flight of a bird’…

Years later, I learnt that this was one of Allama Iqbal’s famous Ghazals. Here, sharing this ghazal with you, that is close to my heart. I hope it brings you hope and comfort, like it does for me.

“Sitaron se aage jahaan aur bhi hain.
abhi ishq ke imtihan aur bhi hain

tahi zindagi se nahin ye fazaen
yahan saikdon karvan aur bhi hai

qanaat na kar alam-e-rang-bu par
chaman aur bhi ashiyan aur bhi hain

agar kho gaya ik nasheman to kya gham hai
maqamat-e-ah-o-fughan aur bhi hain

tu shahin hai parvaz hai kaam tera
tere samne asman aur bhi hain

isi roz o shab me ulajh kar na rah ja
ki tere zaman o makan aur bhi hain

gae din ki tanha tha mai anjuman men
yahan ab mere razdan aur bhi hain”

~Allama Iqbal

Find this ghazal and its translation at Rekhta