Lahore Street Scene

#5 by dl
i agree with you on that. many helpless childern bear more helpless children.

rahul_capri:16
Disturbing is the right word.

I c&Pd it but just discovered that it has three errors . From my memory I knew the two words which should be there. So you find them here in bold `corrected` (and as written by the poet.)

With your shairee-mizaaj, you`ll soon know why.


Once riding through old Baltimore
Heart-filled, head filled with glee
I saw a Baltimorian
who kept looking straight at me

Now I was eight and very small
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue and called me ``Nigger``

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December
But of all the things that happened there
That`s all that I remember

tahmed, good poem. Stoic and poignant.
echoboom, #7, That was very disturbing and touching,Thanks.
I am reminded of a nazm by the great Ibn-e-insha -``ye bachcha kiska bachcha hai``.
He proclaims with an innocent finality- ``Is jag me sab kuch rab ka hai, jo rab ka hai wo sab ka hai``` And from another nazm- ``Narasaee ka ab jee me dhaRka kahan, par wo chhota sa alhaR sa laRka kaha``.

A poem like this is supposed to leave a clear impression of the reality its trying to portray--and this poem does this so beautifully with just the right amount of words.

this part has a good impact, a refreshing style

She walks as before
With an expressionless face
Or do I see a tear?
No.
That`s the way it is

this part is a little less strong than the rest of he poem:

You should not be out here child
You should be at home
In a cool living room
Learning and playing, joyfully

delhiwala: Thanks for your appreciative comments.

Ansari: I too once saw a similar scene at Lahore as you mention - the leftover chicken from our plates at Government College Lahore hostel was being placed on the bare floor at the back of the kitchen where young children and old women were busy chewing on the leftover bones. I can still see that scene today, decades later. As for these nouveau riche who talk about their mercedes and vacations and what not - the less said the better.

echoboom: Thanks for the appreciation.

malik: Thanks for the appreciation. But please dont shoo me away from politics and religion. :-)

jang #1 I tend to agree with you on this point of whether people should bring children into this world only if they are capable of giving them a decent life. Indeed, poorer people tend to have more children compared to wealthier people. The reason of course is understandable to so extent - children have always been a form of old age social security for the poor. What is particularly infuriating is that today the nations of the world together produce enough resources that poverty could be eliminated within a generation. 30 percent of south asian people live below the accepted line of extreme poverty (a dollar a day, the amount that is just enough to keep body and soul together).

Mr. t #1: Thanks for pointing out the punctuation. btw, I wrote this poem back in 1969 when I was a student at Government College Lahore and actually witnessed this scene. Wrote it as an outlet for my own feelings of helplessness at the tragically poor living conditions for people there. Never shared it with anyone else until now.

With respect to the third stanza, I had written it back then - and in fact my initial submission to chowk had left it out for the same reason as you indicate. But after looking a the result, I sent a re-draft to chowk with the third stanza. The reason being that I felt that just as the girl in the poem takes her sad lot in life for granted, so in fact do too many of us who grew up in that society. Thus, felt it useful to err on the side of being explicit rather than of subtelty. So, while understanding your point, I think it is useful to leave that stanza in. Only someone who did not grow up in Pakistan (or another poor country) would not need to be reminded that we must not take poverty for granted.

Thanks for your review, and I will correct the punctuation although unfortunately it is too late to do so on chowk. But glad you share with with me the sadness at the daily tragedy that millions of pakistani children go through every day.

I am finally convinced that tauheed (tahmed32) should leave discussing religion and politics. His strength and talent lies in his poetry. This is another good piece of poetry with vivid imagery and evocative description. Good job!

#1 Jang,

Tidh sub kujh karwa dinda.

This is the harsh reality. Some of these unfortunate little girls have to bear more than just the `startle`.

This is the sign of cheap society. a `cheap` and hocha or a sadist does such things.

Echoboom sahab: no, I hadn`t read that poem before. Thank you for sharing!

temporal: no, I haven`t I`m afraid. Insha-Allah, will keep an eye out for it. I`m not sure how similar Mira Nair`s film is to the original even on its own Salaam Bombay! is a very powerful film, especially since it is made in a language and an idiom that we can all relate to. It hits closer to home.

tahmed:
Good sentiments expressed.

You will like this following poem as well. Mr. Ansari, I`m sure with his vast reading of english poetry must have read it. If not, then he & perhaps so many others might like it.

---

Baltimore

by Countee Cullen
...................................................................................................................................
Once riding through old Baltimore
Heart-filled, head filled with glee
I saw a Baltimorian
Keep looking straight at me
Now I was eight and very small
And he was not bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue and called me ``Nigger``

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December
But of all the things that happened there
That`s all I remember

Countee Cullen, African American poet who wrote this poem when he was in his late 30`s.

aamir:

have you seen the original by hector babenco called pixote?

digression: mira never credited babenco

Re: # 1 Jang

Thats an assumption we so easily make about the poor and even the not so poor (though I`ve seen the choice of to have a child or not to have taken away from women across the board in terms of class). The choice is not always theirs to make. Domestic violence, rape, childhood marriages, forced marriages, complete ignorance with respect to contraception. The list goes on. The parent (and I deliberately chose not to say parents) in the social strata the poem talks about - if it can be dignified with such a term given the way society at large treats it or ignores it - rarely has a choice.

dL

Well-said, Tauheed sahab. Have you seen Mira Nair`s Salaam Bombay!?

I remember we were eating out in Karachi once, one of those roadside arrangements with the beggars loitering around. During our meal, a woman came over with her child and we gave them some money. After we`d finished and were waiting for the waiter to clear the plates away, they came back again and we started shooing them off, saying we`d already paid them and they shouldn`t be begging. The woman said, ``We don`t want money but can we just take the food you`ve left on your plates?`` And they scraped away the bones and whatever little salan there was on our plates and walked away to a corner to eat it.

You can`t help but think of people like these when you are at these 5-star buffets where the uncles and aunties are comparing the foie gras they had in a little chateau in Nice with the caviar on a Mediterranean submarine cruise. As somebody once said, ``Misery is not only a social issue. Its cause it not only the privation but also the evil in human souls. Deprivation is its external side and sin is its internal side.``

Tahmed Saab,
Very Good Poem.
It is very sad to note that the scene is still the same in India an Pakistan for Child Labor.
They don`t even question their fate just accept it as reality.