Seven Sparks, Rafiq Raaz

At midnight the seer’s soul caught fire; he began to dance—

In frenzy he danced, and in splendor. I was still, fearing,

When he made me a gift of paper. I trembled to see there

Sparks, there were seven, wrapped in folds of paper like silk.

I was overcome. I fell into sleep, dreaming there the dancing seer

Was stilled. I made a fold of my hands, and pressed them together

And asked after his gift: “Tell me, let me not be the one left out

of the secret tonight—what is this? In the name of God,

What would you have me do with these? How keep them? The sparks

will burn, how can they not, through these folds as fine as silk.”

“They will burn,” he said, “and the sparks go out. And seven

are the places that shall catch fire, burning for so many years.”






Rafiq Raaz, adapted from Kashmiri by Sonam Kachru, October 2011.








Instead of a commentary to this poem, I should like to offer two small fragments; the first, a quote that could have served as an epigraph to the poem, and second, an oblique essay: notes for a biography of the number seven. The latter is are notes towards an entirely idiosyncratic response to the poem. 


First, the epigraph, from Ghalib:




              For painted silk to enfold flames of fire is facile--
              It takes ingenuity to conceal burning grief in the heart.


(lipatnaa parniyaan men shulah-e aatish kaa aasaan hai
vale mushkil hai hikmat dil men soz-e gam chhupaane ki)
For more on this verse see the discussion here.
















And now, for something completely different: The Number Seven. 




As an envoi to this essay yet to be written, I would ask you to recall that:

When a sincere man begins to dance, 

The seven heavens, and the earth, and all creatures 

begin to dance." 

How far is it from Tabriz to Srinagar?




There is a Sunni hadith, (from the Sahih Muslim): "Verily Allah is 'odd' [for he is one, and one is an odd number] and he loves the odd numbers best." Seven is an odd number, loved by God. Thus some have said, when he is remembered, as in the Shahada, it is seven words that gives commitment its shape:


لا إله إلا الله محمد رسول الله
(lā ʾilāha ʾillallāh, Muḥammad rasūlu-llāh--the seven words are more easily scanned in Arabic script).



Before it was clear that God loved the odd numbers, men have found reason to suspect something was in this number...


















* NOTES ON RAFIQ RAAZ 


For more on the poet, see Abir Bazaz's entry on Rafiq Raaz on his excellent website Kunear devoted to the Kashmiri language and the literature of Kashmir in every language used in the valley. It is enough to say that Rafiq Raaz is perhaps the preeminent master of lyricism in language writing today, (favoring among all forms the ghazal), and in general, along with Rahman Rahi, is among the most prescient of poets working in Kashmir. At the level of image alone, he is often unforgettable:


Outside you would see the likeness of Mughal palaces--
Inside, there is a lantern, a sickness and a dream.


(Nyebra cha baasaan Mughlan hanz shahkar haveel
Andre chu akh chatgeer tae akh bemaar tae khwab)




I would like to take the opportunity here to point to an earlier, and beautiful rendition of this poem by Muneeb ur Rahman. Any student of Kashmiri literature ought to feel indebted to Rahman's ongoing efforts to keep alive literary expression in Kashmiri, through his own efforts as a fine translator, but also as the editor of the only Kashmiri journal dedicated to literature: Neab, revived in an online incarnation largely through the efforts of Rahman.  His translation of this poem is available on his blog Kashmiri Writing Today. 


This translation appeared in the book Language for a New Century: Contemporary Poetry from the Middle East, Asia and Beyond, a groundbreaking book for poetry in translation, along with two other poems from Kashmiri, Amin Kamil's ghazal 'In Water' rendered in a beautiful English form respecting the requirements of the ghazal by Rahman, and a poem by Rahman Rahi translated by Shafi Shauq. I believe that this is the first time poems from Kashmiri have been featured in 


an anthology of world literature in English; they certainly represent among the finer achievements in the translation of Kashmiri into English. One of the things I greatly admire about Rahman is his unified vision of Kashmiri literature. In a time where we are apt to forget the achievements of our earlier poets (when we think of poetry at all), Rahman was quoted as hoping to include even Nadim, to my mind among the strongest of poets in Kashmiri, certainly among the most influential, but a poet seldom mentioned in the same breath as Raaz or Rahi: "I regret Dinnath Nadim's "Candy & Absinth" was dropped from the selection at a later stage during a review by a professor at the Kashmir University." I thank Muneeb ur Rahman for wanting to include our strongest poems, even where their immediate relevance to our current climate is not immediately apparent. 












Photo Credit: The Telegraph, Picture of the Day, 14 January, 2011. School Children in Jammu at recess.