Mukhammas

Mukhammas (Arabic مخمس 'fivefold') refers to a type of Persian or Urdu cinquain or pentastich with Sufi connections based on a pentameter.

It is one of the more popular verse forms in Tajik Badakhshan, occurring both in madoh and in other performance-genres^[1].

Details of the form

The mukhammas represents a stanza of two distichs and a hemistich in monorhyme, the fifth line being the “bob” or burden: each succeeding stanza affects a new rhyme, except in the fifth line, e.g., aaaab + ccccb + ddddb and so forth.

Every stanza of a mukhammas includes five lines.

• In the first stanza, all five lines rhyme.
• In the later stanzas, the first four lines rhyme, but the fifth line breaks the rhyme. It can be repeated, or else its rhyme can be that of the first stanza.^[2]

Themes

A recurrent theme of the mukhammas is praise of Imam Ali and his companions but other themes also occur.

Poets

Many Urdu poets have contributed to the mukhammas. The important among them include:

• Mirza Ghalib
• Bahadur Shah Zafar
• Wali Mohammed Wali
• Zauq
• Ram Prasad Bismil

Poets who have written the mukhammas in other languages include:

• Sipandi Samarkandi
• Qatran Tabrizi^[3]

Examples

The shades of evening mark the close of day;
The sunset fades, the world grows cold and grey;
Across the plain the length'ning shadows play;
“O tentsman, haste, and strike the tents, I pray!
The caravan's already under way.”

In haste the travellers together come;
"Some all unready, long expectant some;
Their voices rise like swarming bee-hive's hum;
“The drummer sounds already the first drum;
Their loads the drivers on the camels lay.”

Another bilingual example of Ram Prasad Bismil in Urdu^[4] and English

A Martyr's Morale (English translation of Jazb-E-Shaheed)^[5]

हम भी आराम उठा सकते थे घर पर रह कर, हमको भी पाला था माँ-बाप ने दुःख सह-सह कर , वक्ते-रुख्सत उन्हें इतना भी न आये कह कर, गोद में अश्क जो टपकें कभी रुख से बह कर , तिफ्ल उनको ही समझ लेना जी बहलाने को ! अपनी किस्मत में अजल ही से सितम रक्खा था, रंज रक्खा था मेहन रक्खी थी गम रक्खा था , किसको परवाह थी और किसमें ये दम रक्खा था, हमने जब वादी-ए-ग़ुरबत में क़दम रक्खा था , दूर तक याद-ए-वतन आई थी समझाने को ! अपना कुछ गम नहीं लेकिन ए ख़याल आता है, मादरे-हिन्द पे कब तक ये जवाल आता है , कौमी-आज़ादी का कब हिन्द पे साल आता है, कौम अपनी पे तो रह-रह के मलाल आता है , मुन्तजिर रहते हैं हम खाक में मिल जाने को  ! नौजवानों! जो तबीयत में तुम्हारी खटके, याद कर लेना कभी हमको भी भूले भटके , आपके अज्वे-वदन होवें जुदा कट-कट के, और सद-चाक हो माता का कलेजा फटके , पर न माथे पे शिकन आये कसम खाने को ! एक परवाने का बहता है लहू नस-नस में, अब तो खा बैठे हैं चित्तौड़ के गढ़ की कसमें , सरफ़रोशी की अदा होती हैं यूँ ही रस्में, भाई खंजर से गले मिलते हैं सब आपस में , बहने तैयार चिताओं से लिपट जाने को ! सर फ़िदा करते हैं कुरबान जिगर करते हैं, पास जो कुछ है वो माता की नजर करते हैं , खाना वीरान कहाँ देखिये घर करते हैं! खुश रहो अहले-वतन! हम तो सफ़र करते हैं , जा के आबाद करेंगे किसी वीराने को ! नौजवानो ! यही मौका है उठो खुल खेलो, खिदमते-कौम में जो आये वला सब झेलो , देश के वास्ते सब अपनी जबानी दे दो , फिर मिलेंगी न ये माता की दुआएँ ले लो , देखें कौन आता है ये फ़र्ज़ बजा लाने को ? Original in Urdu by Ram Prasad Bismil & English Translation by 'Krant' M.L.Verma

We too could take the rest at home, We too could enjoy the pleasure of 'foam', We too had been the sons of someone, To nourish us what they have not done. At the time of departure from our home, We could'nt say at least to them- "In case if the tears drop in lap, Think as if your child is there." In our's fate was the torture since birth, We had the dole, the distress & dearth. Who had the care and dare so dire! When we took our step in fire. Till farther had tried the country to sheer. We have no woe of self but bother, Why downfall does the country disorder. When cometh the year of freedom in nation, Ours is the race that feels us a 'passion'. It's only we, who are anxious to die everywhere. O Youths! in case if it clicks to you, Remember "us" ever for a while in view. Whether your body be cut into pieces, And your mother be drench in distress, Yet your faces should be fresh with flair. In our veins runs the blood of a moth, We have now taken for the Nation an oath. So are performed customs of a Martyr, The brothers embrace their swords altogether, And the sisters are ready to sit on the pyre. We dedicate head and sacrifice heart, To our motherland we offer every sort. We know not where to dwell & dine, Be merry friends! we march align, To inhabit any solitude somewhere. O Youths! it's the proper time to face, Wear every sort of suffering for the race. It's nothing if you bestow for country,your blood. Take the blessings of Mother in a flood. Let us see! who cometh next to share?

See also

• Musaddas
• Doha (poetry)
• Marsia
• Masnavi
• Ram Prasad Bismil

References

1. ^ http://thepoetsgarret.com/quintet/limerick.html
2. ^ terms_index
3. ^ Azeri Literature
4. ^ In Devnagri Script
5. ^ http://krantmlverma.blogspot.com/2011/03/pt.html

External links

• Full text of Ram Prasad Bismil's Mukhammas Jazv-E-Shaheed in English script