September 25, 2021

Muhammad Shanazar/ a Poet of Humanity

6 min read

War is a source of misfortunes and tragedies that accompany human beings for ages. All military conflicts lead not only to economic devastation but, above all, to human suffering also. They degrade society and deal with brutality and death, helplessness leads to changes in the psyche of the people who survive the conflagration of war.

A war impoverishes man and tragic events are remembered, additionally hurting the debilitated psyche. Literature abounds in writings devoted to conflicts and wars. Poets through their poems shout, appeal to those for whom human life has no value. They stand on the side of humanity in describing the tragedies of innocent beings who go through hell in their lifetime. One of the great poets who writes against war is Muhammad Shanazar.

Muhammad Shanazar was born in 1960, Rawalpindi, Pakistan. He is a poet and professor of English Literature. He is the First President of the World Nations Writers’ Union Kazakhstan, he has emerged as a poet and translator in the world and got many international awards and literary honors like Universal Inspirational Poet, World Icon of Peace, 1st Four Stars Ambassador in the World, Extraordinary Ambassador for Gratis Culture, World Laureate in Literature 2017, The World Best Poet 2017, Pride of the Globe 2017, Ambassador of Humanity, Ambassador De Literature, World Icon of Literature, World Ambassador of Literature, Living Legend Of 21st Century and many more. He served Higher Education Department for 34 years and got retirement as Associate Professor on 19-03-2020. He writes against war, his work has been published worldwide in different anthologies. He has written several books of poetry and translated many poets from India and Pakistan.

I Shall Keep Crying

(This poem written by Muhammad Shanazar was read out by Melissa Tuckey in Washington D.C on 27th Feb. 2007, in a huge gathering of Poets Against War)

O! Heedless Generals of the parading troops,

Overloaded with the warring martial contents,

I shall keep crying aloud, at the top of my voice,

Though my tongue is plucked out of the roots.

You are the blind dummies of the sightless kings,

Only you pillage, plunder the world to increase a row 

Of brassy stars upon your thick broad shoulders, 

Or to gather a medal worth a dime to embellish,

Your hollow heartless rattling cold-blooded chests.

You obey the master kings without knowing,

To kill, kill and kill humanity: the fellow beings.

What aims are yours, what missions you struggle for?

Just for vain victories imparting pungent pleasures.

You’ve been blood-drunk since the period pre-historic,

You’ve been playing the game, match of butchery,

You’ve been entertaining with the bloody sport,

To kill, kill and kill is your hobby, a painful pastime. 

I shall keep crying aloud, at the top of my voice,

Till guns, cannons thunder, the fighter jets grumble,

The bombs blast, the missiles lacerate the air.

If my sound offends, torments and troubles you,

Prod your fingers into the porches of your ears,

Or block them by pouring into them molten lead.

A single rider doesn’t raise a storm of dust, I know,

Yet I shall perform my task, discharge responsibility,

So that I mightn’t be included in the list of characters,

Who set the fair Earth on fire, deformed it into an inferno.

Muhammad Shanazar is a poet of extraordinary sensitivity but with a hard pen, his poems touch the core of the heart, even of those whose souls are made from stone.

An Unpardonable Crime

Strange is the justification 

To launch a war,

Against the innocent

Against the weaponless.

Strange is the confrontation,

A shell or a missile.

Or a Daisy Cutter against a stone. 

Pretended war has at the back,

The intention to reserve, 

The reserves of the world,

For descendants of the Launchers.

Lands are being occupied,

The oil-wells are being usurped, 

The rights are being snatched, 

The multitude of homeless is being enhanced,

Hunger is being sponsored,

Smiles and laughter are being stolen,

The sons are being slaughtered,

The brothers are being murdered,

The husbands are being smashed, 

The properties are being damaged,

The blackened airs are to inhale, 

Fire, smoke, and fume are ready to consume,

The human existence on the earth,

To the verge of extinction.

O! The leading heads,

Chase, not the personal well-being,

Be aware of the fact,

We all are brothers and sisters,

Children of the same parents,

Though the colors of skin are different,

Yet in the networks of our bodies,

The same red substance flows.

War is an unpardonable crime, 

A crime against humanity,

A crime against descendants,

A crime against God, 

Though it is fought in the pretension of peace.

Muhammad Shanazar has a title which no other poet has till now and that is ‘Master of War Imagery’, no doubt he is a master in depicting horrible war scenes.  In his poem, ‘The Dance of Darkness’ which is also the title of his book, he on the wings of his imagination flies back into history and makes commentary as an eyewitness on the doom of either Hiroshima or Nagasaki, read how factually he depicts the scene:

The Dance of Darkness

(Dedicated to the Victims of Nuclear Weapons)

Though in the later years I was born,

Yet history makes me forlorn,

Rocks me back in the past behind

To the horrible event and tragic morn.

I see the roses with blighted faces,

Satchels on backs, toddling to schools,

Playing in parks, swimming in pools,

The men, women, and the old folk,

Busy in their worldly doings.

Teenagers move with flowing passions,

With longings for better times,

Brighter future and happier days.

The stream of life goes with dancing waves.

The lovers are still on the beds, bending

Over one another peeping into the eyes,

Measure the depth of bottomless love.

Oh no! Now my receptive ears clearly hear,

The incredible rumbling roaring of thunder,

And eyes see the huge yellow bluish flame

Whose dazzle makes us all blind.

All blackness of humanity spurts out

In the shape of a sooty mushroom,

Upon the earth spreading sable shadows;

The explosion smashes and blows up

The whole structure of civilization,

The hopes resting in the beating hearts,

And cherished longings in the minds.

I see humanity being fallen

Into the meanest level of savagery,

Cruelty and abyss of brutality.

What game has played the pioneers of peace,

The busy men, women, and sucking infants,

Being nourished in the soft soothing laps,

Burn as the rosy petals do,

When thrown into the furnace,

Where terrible enormous heat

Melts metals hard, like butter.

The Darkness dances all around,

The echoes of laughter have changed

Into wailing, crying, and painful shrieks.

Who are these who move like ghosts,

Charred bony figures with hanging shreds,

Lamenting upon the horrible deed,

And despised nature sighs and sobs

That who knows when time takes a turn,

Who knows moments of calm and peace,

Might contain the centuries of sorrow.

Most of his poetry is against war, here, I have the pleasure provide you his first poem that he wrote against war,  it very clearly interprets his idea on war, in face he wants to see the world devoid of human conflicts and destructive weapons:

On The War

The war, and exhibition of human shreds, 

A show of skulls, flesh, blood, and bones, 

A bestial game, turning men into beasts, 

And abhorrent spot on the fair forehead, 

A dance of death with the exploding, 

Music of blasts and thundering of canons, 

For fond glories, and vain victories, 

For a piece of land or contradicting creed. 

A field where aggression pretends righteous, 

Where Carnage and Greed the twin sisters, 

Always indiscriminate to false or fair, 

Ravage about with roaring howls, 

Upon the hapless weak innocence, 

Who being offended vainly defends. 

Oh, Man! 

Change not the world into an inferno, 

Forbear patiently the existence, 

Of fellows infesting upon the Earth, 

Intrude not the limits of liberty, 

Fixed to breathe with solace and ease, 

For tactics are ripe to the culmination, 

Slight recklessness might result in havoc, 

Leaving behind neither winner nor loser.

Every war is a nightmare and cruelty towards its immediate participants. The history of mankind is a history of cruel wars, but as long as a man is aware of evil, there is a chance to win the fight for truth, justice, and peace.

Ewelina Maria Bugajska – Javorka

* The article contains four poems by Muhammad Shanazar

I Shall Keep Crying

An Unpardonable Crime

The Dance of Darkness

On The War

09.08.2021 Stockholm

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