Daily Times

Born in Shikarpur, Sindh in 1938, Akbar Barakzai ranks amongst the stalwarts of modern Balochi literature.

Akbar Barakzai’s poetry mainly traverses along two somewhat unparalleled lines. Themes like love and intimacy, pleasure of union and agony of separation are what one can encounter in his ghazals. While in verse, he seems like a man deeply concerned with objective realities of life. He prefers the affliction of masses to his personal agony. Love for his motherland, peace and prosperity and dignity of a man are the commonplace themes of his poetry. His love for human dignity is not for a certain region. Rather it transcends all geographical and cultural frontiers and becomes universal. His remarkable poems like “Who Can Perish the Sun?”, “I am Veit Cong” and “The Traveller Without Destination”, are some glaring manifestations of his unflinching love for human dignity and his struggle for freedom, peace and prosperity.

His love for human dignity is not for a specific region. It transcends geographic and cultural frontiers

In a literary journey that spans over half a century, Barakzai has only managed to contribute just two anthologies of his poetry. The first, “Rocha Ke Kosht Kant” was published by Azat Jamaldini Academy Karachi in 1988 and the second collection “Saraani Chirag”, is recently brought by the Baloch Adbi Majlis, Bahrain.

“I Need Not Your Sky”

Since aeons,

Someone within me cries

And pleads

With the deaf and blind gods of the lofty heavens

and impregnable sky

May forever be blessed onto you

Your vast universe of the sun moon, stars and galaxies

I need not your affluent world of light, splendid moons and galaxies

For I am a man made of clay

And this sacred earth is all

I render my life for

Indeed

You are the masters you worth the heavens

This dark and barren plain is suffice for me

Let me breath in peace

Here on the very piece of the earth

O, sovereign lords of the suns and stars

I need not your impregnable sky

Pray render me my motherland

That’s my heart and soul,

My faith and devotion

But why lords of the heavens

Bother themselves to such worthless pleas and cries

Since aeons

Someone within me

Cries ceaselessly

“Motherland”

Even if it’s a wasteland

Burnt and blazed

Yet

Motherland is but motherland

I crave not for the land of the sun

Where flows the river of lights

Even if it’s dark and swarthy like a prison

Yet

Motherland is but motherland

“Our Dreams Still Belong to Us”

We are a nation, Not a nation

We are a race, Not a race

These date-palms are ours, Not ours

These harvests are ours, Not ours

This place is ours, Not ours

These homes are ours, Not ours

These cities are ours, Not ours

These towns are ours, Not ours

These rivers are ours, Not ours

These mountains are ours, Not ours

This land is ours, Not ours

These godowns are ours, Not ours

O, Akbar!

Tell the tyrants and brutes of the day

We know

Indeed

There’s nothing left for us to own

Yet

Our collapsed bodies still belong to us

Our souls

Our sprits still belong to us

Our hands

Our arms still belong to us

Our sense

Our wisdom still belong to us

Our sobs

Our cries still belong to us

We still have the memories of our bygone glory

Our guffaws

Our smiles

Our pains still belong to us

We still have our yearnings

Madness and passions

We still own our dignity

What we had gained still belongs to us

What we have lost is still ours

Our words and voice

Our songs and melodies still all belong to us

Our passionate hearts still throb

Our hope

And expectations still belong to us

We still have the beautiful dreams of a new day

Indeed

Ours dreams still belong to us

Our dreams still belong to us

Still belong to us!

The writer is a lecturer at the Government Atta Shad Degree College and can be reached at fazalbaloch144@gmail.com