Mad Hush Ala

MADHUSHALA

Madhushala is one of Shri. Harivansh Rai Bachchan's most famous compositions. Here is a text of some of it (not the whole of it though), which was initially put on the India Discussion Digest by Najid Hussain. The translation was done by him too. The twenty stanzas which follow were chosen for the audio cassette by Manna Dey in which the first one was sung by Harivanshrai himself. Bachchan's open pleading for Wine and Love, a la Omar Khayyam was meant to deliver a shock to the practitioners of hidebound poetry. However, soon his own Halavad (cult of Wine and Love) changed when he recognised the presence of a superior reality casting its shadow from behind the veil of Nature, reminding him of another home from which human beings come into this world. Thus soon he realised that Halavad had its limits..... Ads by Google • •• Madhushala ••• With the intention of going to the pub, the drink-seeker starts from home He is confused as to which path should he choose to reach there Different people show different paths, but I suggest only one thing Take one path (any one) and just keep going, you will get MADHUSHAALAA. Sounding like a spring, the liquor's falling and filling the lives There are sounds like those of pretty, intoxicating girls playing at the water We have almost reached, just a few more steps to go The very thought is making the drink-seekers sway and MADHUSHAALAA redolent. It flares like a red sword, but don't call it fire Don't even call it the abscess of the heart Pain is its intoxication and receding memories its bar- tender That who endures or enjoys pain only must come to my Madhushaalaa That, whose fire from within, has burnt all holy books of his religion That, who has demolished all his personal religious structures- temple, mosque or church That who has freed himself from the clutches of religious priests- Pandit, Imam or Bishop That alone is today welcome in my Madhushaalaa. If one has not yet kissed a "drink" with his lips, And has not yet felt the " pail" with delight and trembling hands. If one has not yet held the hands of the bashful "bar-tender" and pulled her towards oneself, Such a person has totally wasted his life's wonderful Madhushaalaa.

He imagines the beloved bar-tender as the priest, and the drink as holy water of Ganges, And counts rapidly on the rosary of his pails, His only mantra is "Take more. Drink more." he becomes the image of Shiva and his temple, Madhushaalaa. Once a year celebrate holi by lighting a fire and Only once a year celebrate diwali with fire-crackers and illuminating houses However, someday should come and see in the "bar" Every day holi and every night diwali, celebrates Madhushaalaa. Whatever may come to lips, tastes only "liquor" at the tongue Whatever may come in hands, feels only like the "pail" Every face turns into the face of the "bar-tender" In front of eyes there may be anything, but in eyes, there's only Madhushaalaa.) Hey charming lady, your beautiful face is like the golden "pail" which is teeming with the wonderful, sweet, intoxicating wine. I am the bar-tender and I alone is the one who drinks Wherever we two get together, we have Madhushaalaa. Within two days of presenting me with the wine, the bar-tender got tired. Now she just fills the pail and quite curtly places it before me. That enticing and seducing charm in presenting the drink no more exists. Now the only one who still fulfills its obligation is Madhushaalaa In this brief life, how much can I love, how much can I drink Right on arrival in this world, I became 'destined-to-go' Parting and farewell arrangements I have seen just following welcome Barely upon opening, started to close my life's wonderful madhushaalaa. Nire-of-the-heart ever got abated after drinking Every one who drinks, only asks for more and more The departer leaves behind himself so many desires and ambitions All those aspirations get buried under the grave of Madhushaalaa. Yam will arrive as a wineserver and will bring with him dark wine After drinking it, the cheerful drinker will never regain conscious again This is the last intoxication, last wineserver and the last pail Hey Traveller, drink it with love, for you will never again get Madhushaalaa. Day by day, the beloved wine of my existence is dropping down Day by day, the pail of my body is disintegrating Day by day, the beautiful wineserver of my youth is getting annoyed with me And day by day, my lovely life's Madhushaalaa is drying up. The last thing on my lips shouldn't be the basil but the "pail" The last thing on my tongue shouldn't be the holy water from ganges but the wine Those who join my last procession, must remember one thing They shouldn't say "Ram is the truth", instead say the truth is Madhushaalaa. Only that must weep on my corpse, whose tears are full of wine Only that must sigh, who is intoxicated after drinking Only those must lay shoulder to me whose legs jerk and quaver And I must be cremated on the site where once stood Madhushaalaa.