New Delhi: ‘Moi Axomiya’ (I am Assamese), an Assamese poem by noted writer-poet-playwright Syed Abdul Malik (1919-2000) has been at the centre of an online controversy since Tuesday. In this poem, Malik, a Padma Bhushan recipient and Sahitya Akademi award-winning author, versifies the Mughal invasion of Assam and narrates how many Muslims who were part of the Mughal soldiery fell in love with Assam and its beauty and decided to assimilate with the Assamese culture by staying back. An ode to Assam’s composite culture, this poem finds itself in the middle of a shocking accusation that it is ‘fundamentalist’, ‘jihadi’ and ‘anti-national’.A stanza from the poem where the narrator speaks in the voice of the invading Mughals and their plans has been quoted out of context and repeatedly shared on social media in Assam. This is not the first time in recent history that poems by a Muslim have been put under rigorous scrutiny in Assam. Slightly less than a year ago, the eminent author Hafiz Ahmed was vilified for writing a poem on the National Register of Citizens (NRC) and as many as four FIRs were filed against him and a set of young poets. Ahmed was also mistakenly accused of plagiarism for the same poem.A native of Naharoni in the state’s Golaghat district, Syed Abdul Malik did his BA from Cotton College and his MA in Assamese from Gauhati University. He taught Assamese literature at the Jagannath Barooah College in Jorhat until his retirement. A popular writer, Malik also presided over the Abhayapuri convention of the Assam Sahitya Sabha held in 1977.Syed Abdul Malik’s Dhanya Nara Tanu Bhal, a biography of Assam’s Vaishnava saint Sankardev, published by Student Stores, Guwahati. Photo: The WireMalik, who wrote many short stories, plays, novels, travelogues, poems, children’s books, had won the Sahitya Akademi award in 1972 for his novel Aghari Atmar Kahini (A Tale of a Nomadic Soul). Another important work of Malik was Dhanya Nara Tanu Bhal (1987), a biography of Sankardev sprinkling on to the pages Brajavali, a language the revered 16th-century saint used to spread his Eka Sarana Dharma, a simplified religion based on Bhakti or devotion to Lord Krishna against Vedic ritualism. The dharma proved to be a significant unifying factor and bond between communities residing in Assam. Sankardev also had pupils from the Muslim community.Considered a pioneer of biographical novels, Malik also wrote the life story of one of Assam’s cultural icons, Jyoti Prasad Agarwala in Rup Tirthar Yatri (1963-1965). Noted Assamese writer and parliamentarian Hem Barua once called Malik “an inspiring creator of character”, taking note of a great variety of characters he used in an Assamese novel.Like Barua, Malik too dabbled in politics. Akin to many youngsters from the Assamese Muslim community, Malik had joined the Muslim League prior to Partition. Like most Assamese Muslim families, he and his family too didn’t move to Pakistan though, and stayed on in his homeland. In Independent India, Malik joined the Communist Party of India (CPI) and thereafter the Congress. He contested from the Jorhat parliamentary constituency as a CPI candidate in 1957 but lost to Congress’s Mofida Ahmed. In 1983, with the Congress’s support, he became a member of the Rajya Sabha.Here is my loose translation of the poem ‘Moi Axomiya’ for the discerning reader to get a sense of Malik’s approach to and the thoughts behind the poem, and his immense pride in being an Assamese or Axomiya first.I am AssameseThe day we left our placeFaraway in the westLeft our stately homeAnd journeyed eastSo we did with august fervourAnd sang of victory on the banks of the Luit riverWe set foot on the green doob grassAnd saw Assam had her own king and top brassHer flag fluttered, free and sovereignTunes of triumph resonated, confident and keenAnd, on that day, to show our strength we did willThe invincible Mughals shall gallop and take the wheelMuslims will reign supremeAssam will be ours, and KamrupWill be won by us – the Mughal troop.As we debarked on Assam’s battlegroundWhere lush grass was to be foundThe hengdang sword that in a bright afternoon shoneWas Assam’s ownMan or woman, each came to war for a free homelandFull-hearted, not ones to retreat nor bendThe same Mughals who brought the Rajputs to their kneesNow stood listless before an armyThat fed on mere water and hand-pounded riceVictorious Assam sang paeans to libertyAnd to a winning dignityAs the Mughals conceded to a worthier displayOf love for and loyalty to one’s countryThe Mughals, defeated, looked around and saw Assam’s beautyHow it was a mine of love and of bhaktiDistant strains could now be clearly heardAs a free-minded Assam sang no holds barredThe Mughals turned back and glanced –This is Assam, hills faintly visible in the distance all aroundEach leaf luxuriantThe emerald grass tickles the feet as you walkPeople here make sandals of ivoryAnd wash their feet in waters that glisten with coralsThey wear bangles and toe-rings made of tiger clawAnd play the pepa made with buffalo hornThe king builds temples with a sticky egg white and rice mortarTheir feet spall the gold on riverbedsPool barbs wear golden earringsAnd the toads a precious stoneHere, sluggards successfully build a state roadNew ‘sagar’s are dug in backyards,And are built Rang Ghar and Kareng Ghar, pretty as paradiseA golden Assam it isWhere gemstones abundantly mingle with dustGold and silver are found aplentyThe sweet-toned songs can melt a rockIs there another such Assam on earth, another Assam so beauteous?Foreigners from a far-off landEnchanted by another that resembled heavenThe Mughals were now a champion of Assam’s beautyThat day on, Ahoms are our kingsThat day on, Kamrup is my nationI live for Assam and die for AssamThe incense stick of life burns away here in this landThat day on, I am an Assamese from AssamMy dharma, my jaati, dearer than my soulAmid Assam’s green foliage do I dream of happinessI am Assamese until I am aliveAnd after I dieIf I were to be born againI would be born an Assamese here, carrying memories pastAssam’s nature has composed my languageMy words, my songsBirds and celestial performersStand still when they hear an Assamese songSoon after my birthI cried “Aai” (mother)And when I dieMy two lips will quiver, “jaao” (bye).When I am up there in heavenA bright place sans memoriesIf someone remembers my nameIn Assam’s mellifluous AssameseI will still comprehend, I will still recognizeAnd I will hang on her wordsEven from the skiesI am Assamese in lifeAnd in deathI am Assamese when aliveAnd when I dieIt’s a peaceful Assamese death I craveJyotirmoy Talukdar is a senior writing fellow at the Centre for Writing and Communication, Ashoka University.
