The 493rd annual Nashist of Halqa-e-Tashngan-e-adab was held on 21st May ,2017 at Press Club of India.
My family has been hosting the May nashist (sitting)since 1983. What started as a legacy of Saqib Bareillivi (my grandfather) , is now in its 35th year. My father hosted this sitting for 28 years – the one day in the entire year for which he used to prepare for days in advance. It started as a small group that got accommodated in our living room. Then came a time, when we had to remove all our furniture out to host everyone. The entire family, led by Papa, giving all they could to host the special day. As the gathering grew bigger, we moved out to Community Centers, and finally to Press Club.
We carry this tradition forward after my father since 2012. Halqa has been the single most reason that pushed me towards whatever poetry I can manage to cobble up together. The respect for poetry, and poets came from being part of this event, the importance of “daad” for a “shayar” – the lessons on grammar from seniors – everything I learnt about poetry in my early years , was here (remember, these were days without internet, so no IIN )
But, what was special this year ?
My son, Adrit – the 4th generation of the great Saqib Bareillvi read out his self written poem for the first time in this forum – exactly 31 years after his father did the same in May, 1986. While I remember myself as a nervous 9 year old , barely managing to stutter out the 5 lines I had written . Compared to the 9 year old Amit, the 9 year old Adrit was far more confident – handling the mike as a pro, and speaking confidently.
I reproduce his first poem he read out here –
बादल आया बादल आया ज़ोर ज़ोर से गरजा बादल जब गया मैं बाहर तो आसमान से गिर रहीं थी ठंडी ठंडी बूँदे इतनी ठंडी जैसे में बरफ़ में हूँ बादल से यह सीखा मैंने मौसम हो चाहे जितना भी गरम एक न एक दिन ज़रूर आएगी बारिश