IndiaStar: A Literary-Art Magazine


Varis Shah's Hir-Ranjha

by Suzanne McMahon

 

[Editor's intro: "Hir-Ranjha is an ancient folk romance of Punjabi literature. In early versions, all the characters are Hindus. Later versions, influenced by Punjabi poets like Bulleh Shah, include allusions and terminology of sufism, which itself was shaped by Vedantic philosophy.

Suzanne McMahon is the South Asia Librarian at the University of California, Berkeley and chairs the Townsend Center Working Group for Computers and the Humanities. One of her projects is the development of web resources for the study of South Asia and the implementation of Unicode and other standards for handling South Asian languages in non-Roman scripts on the web." -- C.J.S. Wallia]

 

 

 

The influence of the Hir-Ranjha folk romance in pre-modern Punjabi secular

literature is unrivalled. Even in contemporary Punjab the story continues

to enjoy enormous popularity. Varis Shah's Hir is widely regarded as the

most brilliant rendering of the Hir-Ranjha tale and it is most likely this

Hir that Insha refers to when he writes:

sunai ek kahani jo hir ranjha ki/

to ahl-i dard ko uanjabiyon ne lut liya//

When they recited the tale of Hir and Ranjha

The Punjabis ravaged the hearts of their listeners.

 

Critical Interpretations of Hir Varis Shah:

Varis Shah's poem is a qissa, a Punjabi narrative form related to the

Persian masnavi. Because Hir Varis Shah does not follow the traditional

qissa formula of love untainted by sexuality, critics have speculated

about the nature and intent of the poem. In earlier poetic versions of

the Hir folktale, the story clearly tells of the union of the soul, Hir,

with the Lord, Ranjha. Bulleh Shah's couplet describes the soul's merging

or annihilation (fana) in God through repetition (zikr) of the His Name.

Ranjha Ranjha kar di ninh men

ape Ranjha hui

Repeating Ranjha Ranjha in my mind,

I myself have become Ranjha

 

Varis Shah's presentation is very different from Bulleh Shah's and the frank

carnality of Hir Varis Shah might lead us to believe that Varis Shah has

abandoned the spiritual theme altogether and yet spiritual interpretations

of the poem persist. Commentators seem to agree that contradictory forces

are at work in the poem but each has offered a slightly different

interpretation of what's going on. Denis Matringe asserts that the sensual

aspect of the relation between Hir and Ranjha is not in contradiction with

spiritual purity but instead partakes of the ironical world view which

runs throughout the qissa. Christopher Shackle refers to the ironically

ambiguous power of the poem. Ziya Muhammad offers only two possible

views of Hir Varis Shah, those of the orthodox Muslims, for whom Hir is

impious rubbish and those of the ignorant sufis for whom it is their Masnavi,

a Quran in Punjabi. But if Varis Shah wanted to write a poem in the tradition

of the mystical romance then why has he adopted such a worldly

tone. One the other hand, if his intention was to produce impious rubbish

surely there was ample scope for that outside of the Hir-Ranjha tale.

 

In this article, I examine one aspect of opposition in Hir Varis Shah, the

juxtaposition of the intensely spiritual and the intensely sensual, as a

modeling of the sufi concept of paradox. Taking up a consideration of

paradox is a little problematic since the concept has fallen into

disrepute after New Critics like Cleanth Brooks tried, ambitiously if

unsuccessfully, to define this special case of opposition as the driving

force behind all poetry. But my ambition is much more modest. I am

looking specifically at how Varis Shah uses paradox, as one oppositional

tool among many within his poem.

 

Paradox has played an important role in the sufi tradition, resolving

the seeming conflict of two elements of a binary pair by affirming both

elements. Ayn al-Qudat said the very conjunction of opposites is

reflected the concept of God in Islam shown in the shahadah, or confession

of faith--la ilaha illa Allah . To pass from la ilaha [there is no god, that is,

the realm of the malevolent divine attributes] to the realm of illa Allah

(but God) requires the sufi wayfarer to confront God's chamberlain,

who stands guard at the threshold of illa Allah. Who is the chamberlain?

None other than the devil Iblis. The use of paradox as a hermeneutic tool

is common in sufi thought. Al-Ashari (d. 935) settled the question of free

will vs. predestination by affirming both as true. Interestingly, he also

denied the intrinsic goodness or badness of human actions, maintaining

that an action is considered good or bad only because God has determined it

is so. In the eleventh century, Ansari of Herat went so far as to claim that

the relationship of lover and Beloved moves them to a level where even the

five pillars of Islam seem superfluous.

 

This emphasis on paradox, and an ethic of love that contradicts the

orthodox code, is reflected strongly in the Persian Divan-i Shams-i

Tabrizi by Maulana Rumi. Inspired by Rumi's love for his Master, Shams

i-Tabriz, the work draws on all the elements of human experience, using a

traditional mystical vocabulary as well as shocking elements of anger,

cruelty, and sexuality to describe the spiritual experience of annihilation (fana).

Varis Shah was almost certainly familiar with this work and with many

of the concepts of paradox described above.

 

Background:

Varis Shah, a sayyad of Jandiala, completed Hir in 1767. It is set in the

districts of Multan and Sahival. Varis Shah uses bhagbhari , meaning fortunate

one, as an epithet for Hir throughout the poem and conjecture has arisen that

Varis Shah had an unhappy love affair with a Jat woman named Bhagbhari,

but any autobiographical implications are pure speculation. While Varis

Shah, a devotee of Baba Farid Shakarganj, was grounded in the sufi,

particularly Chisti, tradition (his pir was Makhdum Qasuri), he had not yet

lost his taste for the sensual world:

varisa saha javani di umara guzari/

aje taba nah hirasa thi baza//

Oh Varis Shah! The time of youth has past,

but the stamp of desire still remains.

 

Paradox in Hir Ranjha:

A number of renderings of the Hir-Ranjha tale preceded Varis Shah's.

Annemarie Schimmel says that the romance of Hir-Ranjha has been

elaborated in more than a hundred versions in Punjabi, Urdu, Sindhi,

and Persian. In early versions of Hir-Ranjha, the characters are Hindu,

but the story slowly took on secondary Muslim accretions and by the

time of Ahmad Gujjars 1693 version, Ranjha, now a Muslim, is defending

the sufi concept of love against the asceticism of the Naths. Varis Shah,

as we will see, synthesizes a number of Hindu and Muslim elements.

In Persian style Varis Shah tells that his friends have come and asked him

to tell anew the tale of the love of Hir, reciting a poem of that marvelous

spring, make us meet with Ranjha and Hir, so whenever friends assemble

we may relish the taste of the love of Hir.

 

The subject of Varis Shah's poem is love and he gives it primary importance

in his invocation to God in the first stanza, the hamd, of the poem.

avvala hamada khudai da virada kije/

isaqa kita su jagga da mula mia//

pahile apa hi rabba ne isaqa kita/

masuqa hai nabi rasula mia//

isaqa pira faqira da maratabah hai/

marada isaqa da bhala ranjula mia//

khile tinha de baga qaluba andara/

jinha kita e isaqa qabula mia//

 

First I sing the praise of the Lord

Who made Love the foundation of the world.

In the beginning it was the Lord Himself who loved,

And His Beloved is the Prophet, His Messenger.

Love confers the rank of pir and fakir,

The man who loves becomes well acquainted with suffering.

Whoever will accept this love,

His heart blossoms like a garden of flowers.

 

The reference in the hamd is to true love. The basic ideology of the

qissa form is the establishment of an analogy between isq-i haqiqi and

isq-i majazi. Isq-i majazi , always untainted by sexuality, is a symbol

or reflection of the higher true love, isq-i haqiqi. While Varis Shah

does not totally abandon this idea, he emphasizes isq-i majazi and isq-i

haqiqi as two elements of a paradox, it is not through the rejection of the

sexual elements of symbolic love, isq-i majazi, as in the tradition of

asceticism, but through their total acceptance that the soul finally

experiences the true love, isq-i haqiqi and attains fana or annihilation

in the beloved.

 

The first meeting of Hir and Ranjha sets the course of their love.

After being cheated out of his inheritance by his jealous brothers, Ranjha,

who is also addressed by the name Dhido, abandons his family in Takt

Hazara and sets out for Jhang, the home of Hir, to seek his fortune. On

the way he encounters opposition from a narrow-minded mullah who

refuses him shelter in the mosque and from Luddan the ferryman, who

refuses to take him across the river Chenab. But Ranjha effortlessly

seduces the two wives of the ferryman, and, in the end Luddan is happy

to take him across the river to be rid of him. On board the ferry, Ranjha

falls asleep on a comfortable couch, which turns out to be the property

of Hir. When she hears her couch has been defiled by some unknown Jat,

she marches wrathfully towards the ferry to beat him. But her anger

evaporates with Ranjha's first words: vah sajjana. In the meeting of the

eyes they both are lost. Ah, Varis, nothing can help when eyes meet on

the battlefield of love! Ranjha explains to Hir that life is like a dream

and that she must abandon pride of youth and beauty, give up attachment

to possessions, and be ever prepared to leave the world. He asks Hir to

take an oath to love so that she will not desert at the first assault for the

way of love is the hard, strait way. This is isq-i majazi, but it will be

experienced fully, embraced fully. Hir and Ranjha are willing to sacrifice

everything for love; in the end they even lay down their lives. This kind of love

raises them to the status of the pirs and fakirs. The worldly people,

following an orthodox ethical code, may decry the actions of the lovers

and oppose their union. But in sufism, as Sant Singh Sekhon tells us, the

fakirs regard themselves as exceptional for having attained, through some

kind of spiritual discipline or divine grace, the privilege of transcending

social convention and restraint.

 

Keeping this in mind, sanctioning of the love of Hir and Ranjha by the

Five Pirs is a pivotal event. In order to keep Ranjha near her Hir

entreats her father, Cucak, to accept him as a cowherd, and immediately

after Cucak agrees, the Five Pirs appear to Ranjha, and tell him that the

Lord has granted him the love of Hir. Each of the Pirs give him a gift,

traditional for a betrothal-- a tuft, a shawl, a ring, a dagger, and a cow

of light brown colorindicating that the union of Hir and Ranjha is sealed

through divine grace.

 

Varis Shah has described Ranjha in images that could just as easily refer

to Krishna.

Flute under his arm, rings on his ears and wisps of hair playing

in the wind,

With thin-plucked eyebrows, kohl-lined eyes,

Dhido shows a face fair as the moon.

 

The similarity of Ranjha to Krishna in the poem is in line with a whole

system of double cultural reference, partaking of both of Islam and

Hinduism, that was a part of the social system in rural Punjab during Varis

Shah's time. (This system of double reference shows up in other

events in the poem, for instance, in the fixing of the wedding date for

Hir and Saida by the Brahmins and in the acceptance of a yogic vows by

Ranjha.)

 

After Ranjha becomes a cowherd, he and Hir meet secretly each day and the

scenes by the River Chenab are reminiscent of Krishna and the gopis. At

noon Ranjha takes the buffaloes to the river for water and Hir comes with

her companions to swim. Ranjha plays on his flute; Hir and her

attendants sing along. Their water sports are very pretty. One wrings the

water from her hair over Ranjha, one draws him

close to her. One encircles his waist with her arms, and another rubs her cheek

against his. This invoking of the Krishna image, besides reflecting the social

realities, also points to the Chisti affinity with Krishnaite Bhakti,

where the erotic love of Krishna and Radha is a comfortable concept.

Varis Shah is moving this concept into a Muslim context using a vocabulary

of Krishna very familiar to the Chistis.

 

Of course, the clandestine meetings of Hir and Ranjha are soon discovered

causing great scandal. Cucak suggests to Hir's mother Malki, that since

she did not strangle Hir at birth, ( female infanticide was not unknown), she

should strangle her now and bury the scandal deep. But the Five Pirs

appear again to reassure the lovers and counsel Hir and Ranjha not to

degrade their love.

 

Children, remember the Lord and do not degrade your love.

All hours of the day and night,

carefully practice the dhikr (remembrance) and earn the merit.

O Varis Shah! The five Pirs are commanding:

Children! Do not disgrace the love.

 

If the point of their injunction is that Hir and Ranjha not sully their

love with sensuality, then it is a little late in coming. Degrading love

here seems to have nothing to do with sensuality and the Pirs remain

pleased with the lovers. The worldly people are not so understanding.

Cucak dismisses Ranjha from his service and Hir is quickly married off

against her will to Saida, the son of a neighboring Khera chieftan. After

Ranjha is separated from Hir he becomes a yogi, taking initiation from the

guru Balnath, and, in this disguise, escapes with Hir from Rangpur,

though the two are quickly recaptured. After a plague of fire is visited

on Rangpur all opposing parties relent and agree to the marriage of Hir

and Ranjha. But when Ranjha returns to his own home to bring the bridal

procession, Hir's family, afraid of public shame, poison her and send word

of her death to Ranjha, who on hearing of the murder of his beloved, dies

of grief.

Rajhe vagu farihada de aha mari/

jana gai su hoi havai mia//

dove dara fanaha thi gae sabata /

jai phire ni dara bakai mia//

dove rahi mizaji de rahe sabata/

nal sidaka de gae vihai mia//

varisa sah isa khaba sarai ute/

kai vajare gae vajai mia//

 

Like Farihad Ranjha uttered a moan,

his soul joined Hir in the upper air.

Both passed the House of Life Eternal,

whole and true from this House of Death.

Firm in this earthly shape of love,

they lived it out with the utmost truth.

Waris, in this place of dreams have many

blown trumpets and left for nowhere.

 

In this the verse describing the death of Ranjha re we would expect to see

verification that paradox has a resolution. As Ranjha explained to Hir at

their first meeting, the world is a place of dreams, and their time to

leave it came very quickly. Varis Shah tells us that the lovers were firm

in this earthly shape of love, the mizaji which had the character of the

erotic love of Krishna and Radha. At this point you might expect some

affirmation that through symbolic love Hir and Ranjha also achieve true

love and rise into fanah, annihilation in the beloved, the goal of true

love for the Sufis. In death the two lovers are united, but here Varis

Shah throws in an intriguing twist, almost deconstructing his own model.

Fana appears in the verse but in the phrase dara fanah, the destructible

world, which he contrasts with dara bakai, the imperishible world.

Finally, Varis Shah comment that after the fanfare of this life many have

left for nowhere. His word is vanjhare, and it leaves the reader

wondering, have the lovers achieved sufi annihilation, or in Buddhist

fashion have they gone into the Void, or in fact was the sufi model itself

was just a dream leading not to ecstasy but a wasteland beyond.

 

Gender:

Usually the description of the ideal appears as narrative, while the

coarser elements are introduced through dialog. One of the most

intriguing dialogs in the poem is the case of gendered opposition

portrayed in the bawdy exchange between Ranjha and Sahiti, Hir's sister

in-law, that comprises nearly one third of the poem. The badinage could

be interpreted as a battle of the sexes, and I will follow it up as a

continuation of the 9th century debate started by Rabia Basri and Hassan,

but it also shows elements of a clash between the orthodox and unorthodox,

a proud daughter, defending the privilege of her family and the pride of

her station against an unknown itinerent yogi. Another aspect of the

interchange could be the bhabhi-nand relation of Hir and Sahiti. Or

taking a different approach, Sahiti could also be viewed as an alter-ego

for Hir, much as Sandra Gilbert has described Bertha Rochester, Madwoman

in the Attic, as the darker half of Jane Eyre.

 

Translation:

This section with Ranjha and Sahiti was almost totally expunged by Charles

Frederick Usborne, a member of the Indian Civil Service, who served in the

Punjab, when he translated the poem at the beginning of the twentieth

century. Usborne's handling of the poem raises some interesting questions

about the translation in general that deserve futher investigation. He

skipped some of the more difficult sections of Hir and the version

contains many mistranslations. A misguided Victorian fastidiousness

impelled Usborne to edit out most of Varis Shah's more earthy banter,

imposing an uncomfortable propriety on the poem and doing violence

to both the mystical and secular themes. The cynical irony of some of Varis

Shah's characterizations, contrasting the ideal with the actual, is lost.

For instance, the coarser jibes of Ranjha's exchange with the mullah are

toned down. In the original, Ranjha chides the mullah, "A maid, a wife, a

widow, a sheep, a she-ass, none is safe from you," which provides a

caustic contrast with the original description of the mullah as erudite

and noble. Usborne renders the sentence as, "You lead the village women

astray; you are a bull among cows," which sounds more like a praise of the

mullah's virility than a scathing denunciation of a sexually predatory

rural clergy. Usborne's censorship significantly impeded the workings

of oppositional elements within the poem. To capture the deeper structures

of a poetic work, rather than simply to convey content, a translator needs

what Coleridge calls speculative instruments, familiarity with the author,

the language, and how social being left its imprint on syntax. Usborne's

translation leads us to ask whether Coleridge's speculative instruments

might be affected adversely when the translator is not conscious of

potential dangers inherent in imbalance of linguistic power, as in the

case of moving from a work from an indigenous language into a colonial

one.

 

The translation by Sant Singh Sekhon, a scholar, writer, and native

Punjabi speaker, remains the best translation even though the language

strikes the modern reader as a little stilted. The critical edition by

Denis Matringe includes a French translation of strophes 1 through 110.

This translation preserves the poetic form, follows the original text

almost word for word, and includes an introduction and extensive

etymological and cultural annotations. A full translation on this order in

English would greatly expand the possibilities for investigating the

poetics of Hir. While the lack of a full critical edition and

translation can't be used as an excuse to reserve comment on the poem,

there's no denying that it hampers efforts to draft any comprehensive

statements about the philosophical, linguistic, and poetic workings of

Hir Varis Shah.

 

Summary:

In summary, it is possible to say that Varis Shah juxtaposes a number of

other oppositional forces in Hir, some explainable through sufi paradox,

some not so easily resolved. But through all these oppositions, at least

the quest for synthesis remains clear. The lovers struggle to remain true

to love and to make sense of a world that is riddled with hypocrisy and

falsehood. Hir and Ranjha are timeless and Varis Shah's masterful telling

of their tale remains compelling even today.

 

Hukama manna ke sajjana piaria da/

qissah ajaba bahara da joria e//

fiqarah jora ke khuba durusata kita/

nava phulla gulaba da toria e//

bahuta jiu de vicca tadabira kara ke/

nal farahada pahara nu phoria e//

sabbha vinnha ke zeba bana ditta/

jeha itara gulaba nacoria e//

 

Obeying the order of my dear friends,

I have composed this tale of a marvelous spring.

I have fashioned the phrases elegantly,

like the blossoming of the new rose.

The labor within my soul was very great,

as when Farhad hewed through the mountain,

Blending it all, I have adorned it,

just as the rose emits its fragrance.

 

While this article reflects only my initial efforts towards an understanding

of the poetics of this qissa, I hope that, in spite of its limited scope, it

has conveyed a little of the fragrance of the love of Varis Shah's Hir.