Sahir Ludhianvi, Amrita Pritam aur Imroz ki Kahani
— Ek Amar Prem Kahani, Hinglish Mein —
Kahani ki Shuruaat
1944 ka Lahore. Azaadi se pehle ki bechain si fiza. Jawaan shayar sadkon pe nikal aaye the, apni nazmon se inqilaab ki aag jalane ke liye, apne lafzon se bagaawat ki rooh ko khilane ke liye. Isi ubalte hue adabi mahaul mein ek mushaira ho raha tha, "Preet Nagar" naam ki jagah pe.
Neeche baithi thi ek chhabbees saal ki Punjabi shayra. Naam tha Amrita Pritam. Kavita ki kitaabein chhap chuki thi, radio pe programme karti thi, adabi halqon mein apni pehchaan bana chuki thi. Gyarah saal ki umar mein maa ko kho diya tha, solah saal mein shaadi kar li thi Pritam Singh se — ek hosiery ke karobar wale ghar ke bete se, aur wo shaadi thandi chai jaisi phiki thi. Lekin us raat, stage pe khada tha ek teis saal ka jawaan, dubla patla, chehre pe chechak ke daag, lekin awaaz aisi jaise loha taaw ke upar rakha ho. Naam tha Abdul Hay, lekin adab ki duniya usse Sahir Ludhianvi kehti thi — "Sahir" matlab jaadugar.
Sahir abhi apni pehli kitaab "Talkhiyan" chhapwa chuka tha, aur poora shehar is naye shayar ki baat kar raha tha. Uski nazmon mein samaj ke khilaaf gussa tha, na-insaafi ke khilaaf aawaz thi, aur ek aisi narmi bhi thi jo dil ko cheer deti thi. Amrita ne baad mein likha: "Mujhe nahi pata wo uski nazmon ka jaadu tha ya uski khamosh nigaahein, lekin main qaid ho gayi."
Yeh do zindagiyon ka pehla milan tha. Lekin is kahani ko poora hone ke liye kuch saal intezaar karna tha, ek azaadi ki taqseem ka intezaar karna tha, aur ek Imroz naam ke painter ke aane ka intezaar karna tha.
Jaadugar aur Shayra
Sahir Ludhianvi ki poori zindagi shuru se hi taqseem ke saaye mein thi.
1921 mein, Ludhiana ke ek zamindar khaandaan mein paida hua, naam tha Abdul Hay. Bachpan mein koi garmi nahi thi. Baap ek zaalim zamindar tha, maa ne zeher sahti sahti apne bete ko lekar apne maayke chali gayi aur wahin paal pos ke bada kiya. Maa-baap ke darmiyan custody ki ladai saalon tak chalti rahi, Sahir court se court ke darmiyan bhatakta raha, jaise koi samaan ho jise idhar udhar phenka ja raha ho. Is tajurbe ne uski rooh pe ek aisa zakham chhoda jo kabhi bhara nahi — wo aage chalke apne daur ka sabse bada ishq ka shayar bana, lekin kabhi shaadi nahi ki, kabhi kisi aurat ko apni zindagi mein poora daakhil hone nahi diya.
Uskay saathiyon ka kehna hai ki usme "maa complex" tha — aurton se uska pyaar hamesha ek gehri be-aetmaadi ke saath mila hua tha. Usne ek dost se saaf kaha tha: "Agar koi aurat meri zindagi mein aaye aur phir chali jaaye, toh theek hai, do-teen achhe geet likhne mein madad milegi." Shayari hi uski wahid wafadaar mohabbat thi.
Amrita alag thi. Wo us qism ki aurat thi jo "apni sochi hui zindagi jeene ki himmat rakhti thi." Wo kavita likhti thi, novel likhti thi, autobiography likhti thi, apni kitaab "Rasidi Ticket" mein apne pyaar, shaadi aur khwahishon ke baare mein khulke likhti thi, aur laakhon Hindustani aurton ne pehli baar mehsoos kiya ki unki awaaz bhi kaghaz pe gunj sakti hai. Gyarah saal ki umar mein hi bhagwan pe yaqeen chhod diya, kyunki uski duaon ne maa ko bacha nahi paaya. Solah saal mein shaadi ho gayi, lekin wo kabhi wo aaram se silai bunai karne wali Punjabi bahu nahi thi.
1944 ke us mushairay ke baad, Amrita ki shaadi aur bhi zyada khaali ho gayi. Aur Sahir ke saath ek ajeeb sa rishta bana: wo milte, baat nahi karte, bas saath baith jaate. Sahir cigarette pe cigarette phookta. Wo jaata, phir Amrita uske chhode hue thundhe cigarette ke tukde uthaati, jalaati, peekar us dhuen mein mehsoos karti jaise uske hont Sahir ke haathon ko chhu rahe hain.
Ek press conference mein usse likhkar photo dilwane ko kaha gaya. Usne kalam uthai aur bekhudi mein poora kaghaz ek hi naam se bhar diya: Sahir, Sahir, Sahir. Wo apne bachche se haamil thi, lekin chahti thi ki bachcha Sahir jaisa dikhe.
Lekin Sahir ka pyaar, uski shayari ki tarah, hamesha garmi aur doori ka mixture tha. Wo Amrita ko pasand karta tha, shayad pyaar bhi karta tha, lekin wo kisi ke liye rukne wala nahi tha. 1950s tak Sahir Mumbai mein apni jagah bana chuka tha, Bollywood ke sabse mehnge lyricists mein se ek ban gaya tha, "Pyaasa" aur "Naya Daur" jaise filmon ke geeton se Urdu shayari ko ghar ghar tak pahuncha diya tha. Uske aas paas auratein badalti rehti thi. Ek din Amrita ne magazine kholi aur Sahir ki kisi doosri aurat ke saath photo dekhi. Uske haath hawa mein ruk gaye.
Aakhir usne usse ek aakhri khat likha. Usme ek line thi: "Main tumse itna pyaar karti hoon ki toot jaati hoon, kya tumne bhi mujhse aisa pyaar kiya?" Wo khat khud uske haathon mein diya, uske saath aakhri coffee pi, aakhri cigarette pi. Jaate waqt usne Byron ki lines English mein padhi: "Aurat apne pehle pyaar mein apne mehboob se pyaar karti hai; baaki saare pyaaron mein sirf pyaar se pyaar karti hai." Sahir ne pursukoon lehje mein poocha: "Jaane se pehle, iska tarjuma kar dogi?"
Us din ke baad Amrita ne kabhi palat ke nahi dekha. Lekin Sahir ka naam uski zindagi se kabhi gayab nahi hua. Budhape mein usne kaha tha ki wo chahti hai ki uske cigarette ka dhuaan doosri duniya mein jaakar Sahir se mile. Aur Sahir, jo apni zaati zindagi pe kabhi baat nahi karta tha, kehte hain usne Amrita ki autobiography "Rasidi Ticket" padhi thi, lekin ek lafz kabhi nahi bola. Usne jo kehna tha, sab geeton mein keh diya.
Ek Painter ki Entry
1950s ka Delhi. Amrita apni kitaab ke liye cover designer dhoond rahi thi. Kisi ne ek jawaan painter suggest kiya, ek khamosh Sikh, asli naam Inderjeet Singh, lekin pen name Imroz — "Imroz" matlab "aaj."
Imroz Amrita se saat saal chhota tha. Jab usne pehli baar dekha, wo chaalees ki thi, do bachchon ki maa, abhi tak divorce nahi hua tha, aur Sahir ka saaya abhi bhi uske dil pe tha. Imroz taintis ka tha, kunwara, ek magazine mein illustrator, wo tasveerein banata jo koi nahi dekhta tha.
Unki chauthi mulaqat ittefaq se Imroz ke birthday pe hui. Amrita ko pata chala, toh ek cake le aayi, aur usse khilaya. Usne Happy Birthday nahi kaha, usne Thank You bhi nahi kaha. Lekin Imroz ne notice kiya — uski aankhein muskura rahi thi. Usi lamhe usne jaana: "Main is aurat ke saath apni baaki ki zindagi guzarunga."
Amrita ne aakhir wo shaadi chhod di jo kabhi zinda hi nahi thi, aur Imroz ki zindagi mein aa gayi. Unhone shaadi nahi ki, koi rasam nahi, koi kasam nahi. Imroz baad mein samjhata tha: "Hum kabhi 'I love you' nahi kehte. Wo bahut khaali lafz hai." Dono ke apne alag kamre the. Wo raat ko likhti, wo lamp ke neeche painting karta, uski bahut si kitaabon ke cover uske kaam the.
Unki zindagi ek magazine "Nagmani" ke aas paas ghoomti thi. Imroz aur Amrita ne taintis saal is magazine ko mil kar edit kiya — wo lafzon ki, wo tasveeron ki. Do funn ek hi kitaab ke panno mein baat karte the.
Paintalis Saal ki Khamoshi aur Iqraar
Imroz aur Amrita paintalis saal saath rahe, 2005 mein uske jaane tak.
Koi shaadi ka certificate nahi, koi common bachche nahi, yahan tak ki wo ek doosre se wo duniya wale pyaar bhari baatein bhi nahi kehte the. Lekin Imroz kehta tha: "Amrita ke do bachche the, wo 'hamare' bachche ban gaye." Ye kehte waqt uski awaaz mein ek baap ka fakhr tha.
Amrita budhape mein beemar padi, Imroz uski dekhbhal karta raha aakhir tak. Uska aakhri kaam 2004 mein likha gaya, title tha "Main Tumse Phir Milungi," uske liye likha:
lekin zaroor milungi."
Amrita ke jaane ke baad Imroz ne shayari likhni shuru ki. Usne uski yaad mein kabhi likhna band nahi kiya. Ek nazm mein, "Amrita" title se, usne likha: "Kabhi kabhi khoobsurat khayaal khoobsurat jism bhi bana dete hain." Doosri mein likha:
hamare jism andar ki taraf sochte hain,
hamare haath pair phoolon ki maala ke phoolon ki tarah lipte hue,
jaise mandir ke chadhаве,
hamare naam hothon se phisal kar ek pavitra bhajan ban jaate hain.
Kisi ne Imroz se poocha, Amrita nahi hai toh tum kyun zinda ho? Usne kaha: "Amrita kaise mar sakti hai, jab main zinda hoon? Jo humne baanta, wo baant-te rahenge."
Teen Log, Pyaar ki Ek Kahani
Sahir Ludhianvi kabhi kisi ka nahi hua. Uski shayari mazloomon ki thi, sipahiyon ki thi, majbooran jism bechen wali aurton ki thi, sadak pe bhatakte gharon ki thi. Wo apni poori zindagi duniya ki be-rehmi ka shikwa karta raha, lekin khud ko kisi narmi mein thehrne nahi diya. 1980 mein, tash khelte hue dil ka daura padha aur chala gaya, haath mein patte pakde hue. Uske biographer ne kaha, yeh bada tanz tha — wo doosron ke dard pe rota tha, lekin apni zindagi ko kabhi sacchi tarah se jeeya hi nahi.
Amrita Pritam ne Sahir se poori zindagi pyaar kiya, aur wo pyaar kabhi barabar ka jawab nahi mila. Lekin usne is pyaar ko nafrat mein nahi badalne diya. Usne is dard ko kavita banaya, Punjabi adab ki sabse mashhoor nazm "Ajj Aakhaan Waris Shah Nu" banaya — 1947 ki taqseem ka nauha, jisme wo athrahveen sadi ke Sufi shayar Waris Shah ko pukarti hai ki apni qabr se uthkar un logon ke liye maatam karein jo batwaare mein mar gaye. Uska pyaar aur uska dard, dono Arabon logon ki yaad ban gaye.
Imroz ne kabhi Amrita ke dil mein Sahir ki jagah lene ki koshish nahi ki. Wo bas wahin tha. Paintalis saal. Wo uski tasveerein banata, uski magazine edit karta, uska haath pakadta, aakhir tak. Usne Amrita ko azaad fiza mein saans lene di, wo likhti rahi, wo wo aurat bani rahi jo "apni sochi hui zindagi jeene ki himmat rakhti thi."
Hindustani writer Nirupama Dutt ne ek baat kahi thi, shayad yahi is rishte ki sabse achhi tareef hai: "Imroz wo siyahi thi jo Amrita ki kalam se behti thi. Wo zinda raha, isliye hum uski aankhon se Amrita ko dekhte hain."
Sacha Pyaar Kya Hai?
Sahir ka jawab: Pyaar shayari hai, dard hai, wo aag hai jo kabhi kisi ek ke paas poori nahi hoti.
Amrita ka jawab: Pyaar azaadi hai, wo jalna hai jiska jawab na mile toh bhi afsos nahi.
Imroz ka jawab: Pyaar saath hai, paintalis saal ki khamoshi hai, uska jaane ke baad bhi uske liye shayari likhna, aur ye yaqeen rakhna ki ek din, kisi tarah, kahin, wo phir milegi.
Sacha pyaar wo nahi jo paas rehkar dikhaya jaaye —
Sacha pyaar wo hai jo door rehkar bhi kabhi kam nahi hota.