Some qawwalis and folk songs of Khusrau tradition

Qawwalis and folk songs, the most popular genres in the Khusrau tradition, have kept his name alive amongst the masses for more than seven centuries. The following popular verses, just like the rest of his Hindvi dohas and riddles, have reached us through oral traditions rather than authentic document sources. There is a strong possibility that some of them may have been composed by much later Qawwals and poets who tried to relate to Khusrau's legendary association with Nizamuddin Aulia.

Today you may find differences in words, or sequence of couplets, and even addition of new couplets in their performance or documentation, in two different places. This page contains mostly Urdu / Hindi Qawwalis - other Farsi ghazals of Khusrau that are sung as Qawwali may be found elsewhere. The following have been collected from various sources including transcriptions from actual Qawwali performances.

Note that the English translations here - a bit literal - are meant only to guide the readers about the contents of these songs. For a better appreciation of the poetry, knowledge of Urdu/Hindi and even Persian will be an advantage.

Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Prem bhatee ka madhva pilaikay
Matvali kar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Gori gori bayyan, hari hari churiyan
Bayyan pakar dhar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Bal bal jaaon mein toray rang rajwa
Apni see kar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Khusrau Nijaam kay bal bal jayyiye
Mohay Suhaagan keeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay

You've taken away my looks, my identity, by just a glance.
By making me drink the wine of love-potion,
You've intoxicated me by just a glance;
My fair, delicate wrists with green bangles in them,
Have been held tightly by you with just a glance.
I give my life to you, Oh my cloth-dyer,
You've dyed me in yourself, by just a glance.
I give my whole life to you Oh, Nijam,
You've made me your bride, by just a glance.

Man kunto maula,
Fa Ali-un maula
Man kunto maula.
Dara dil-e dara dil-e dar-e daani.
Hum tum tanana nana, nana nana ray
Yalali yalali yala, yalayala ray Man tunko maula......

"Whoever accepts me as a master,
Ali is his master too."
(The above is a hadith - a saying of the Prophet Mohammad (PBH).
Rest of the lines are tarana bols that are generally meaningless
and are used for rhythmic chanting by Sufis.)

Aaj basant manaalay suhaagun,
Aaj basant manaalay;
Anjan manjan kar piya mori,
Lambay neher lagaaye;
Tu kya sovay neend ki maasi,
So jaagay teray bhaag, suhaagun,
Aaj basant manalay…..;
Oonchi naar kay oonchay chitvan,
Ayso diyo hai banaaye;
Shaah-e Amir tohay dekhan ko,
Nainon say naina milaaye,
Suhaagun, aaj basant manaalay.

Rejoice, my love, rejoice,
Its spring here, rejoice.
Bring out your lotions and toiletries,
And decorate your long hair.
Oh, you’re still enjoying your sleep, wake-up.
Even your destiny has woken up,
Its spring here, rejoice.
You snobbish lady with arrogant looks,
The King Amir is here to see you;
Let your eyes meet his,
Oh my love, rejoice;
Its spring here again.

Bahut Kathin hai dagar panghat ki,
Kaisay main bhar laaun madhva say matki?
Paniya bharan ko main jo gayi thi,
Daud jhapat mori matki patki.
Bahut kathin hai dagar panghat ki.
Khusrau Nijaam kay bal bal jayyiye
Laaj rakho moray ghoonghat pat ki.
Bahut kathin hai dagar panghat ki.

The road to the Well is much too difficult,
How to get my pot filled?
When I went to fill the water,
In the furor, I broke my pot.
Khusrau has given his whole life to you Oh, Nijam.
Would you please take care of my veil (or self respect),
The road to the well is much too difficult.

Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay,
Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi;
Mohay apnay hi rung mein……
Humri chundariya, piyaa ki pagariya,
Woh to donon basanti rung day;
Tu to saaheb mera …….
Jo kuch mangay rung ki rungaai,
Mora joban girvi rakhlay;
Tu to saaheb mera…….
Aan pari darbaar tehaaray,
Mori laaj saram sab rakh lay;
Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi,
Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay.

Dye me in your hue, my love,
You are my man, oh beloved of Almighty;
Dye me in your hue.
My scarf, and the beloved’s turban,
Both need to be dyed in the hue of spring;
Whatever be the price for dyeing, ask for it,
You can have my blossoming youth in mortgage;
Dye me in your hue.
I have come and fallen at your door step,
For you to safeguard my pride, my dignity,
You are my man, Oh beloved of Almighty,
Dye me in your hue.

Tori soorat kay balihaari, Nijaam
Tori soorat kay balihaari.
Sab sakhiyan mein chundar meri mailee,
Dekh hansain nar naari, Nijaam........
Ab ke bahar chundar meri rang de,
Piya rakh lay laaj hamari, Nijaam......
Sadqa baba Ganj Shakar ka,
Rakh lay laaj hamari, Nijaam........
Qutab, Farid mil aaye barati,
'Khusrau' raajdulaari, Nijaam.......
Kouo saas kouo nanad say jhagday,
Hamko aas tihaari, Nijaam.....
Tori soorat kay balihaari, Nijaam.

Beholding your appearance, Oh Nijaam
I offer myself in sacrifice.
Amongst all the girls, my scarf is the most soiled,
Look, the girls are laughing at me.
This spring, please dye my scarf for me,
Oh Nijaam, protect my honour.
In the name of Ganj-e Shakar (Nizamuddin Aulia's pir),
Protect my honour, Oh beloved Nijaam.
Qutab and Farid have come in the wedding procession,
And Khusrau is the loving bride, Oh Nijaam.
Some have to fight with the mother-in-law,
While some with sisters-in-law,
But I have you for support, Oh Nijaam.

Main to piya say naina lada aayi ray,
Ghar naari kanwari kahay so karay,
Main to piya say naina lada aayi ray.
Sohni suratiya, mohni muratiya,
Main to hriday kay peechay samaa aayi ray;
Khusrau Nijaam kay bal bal jayyiye
Main to anmol cheli kaha aayi ray,
Ghar naari kanwari kahay so karay,
Main to piya say naina lada aayi ray.

Hey, I’ve just had an affair with my darling,
Don’t care what the neighbourhood girls say;
Just had an affair with my darling.
Oh, his beautiful face, charming like an idol,
I’ve just made a place in the bottom of his heart.
I, Khusrau, give my life to Nizamuddin in sacrifice,
I’ve just had him call me his most favourite disciple;
Don’t care what the neighbourhood girls say,
Just had an affair with my darling.

(This song, in the form of a dialogue between the married daughter in her in-laws’ home and her mother, is sung by girls in North India at the onset of Monsoon rains - usually while swinging on the Jhoolas in a garden.)

Amman meray baba ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera baba to boodha ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Amman meray bhai ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera bhai to baala ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Amman meray mamu ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera mamu to baanka ri - Ke saavan ayaa

Dear Mom, send my dad across; the rainy season has come.
Oh, dear daughter, how can I?
Your dad's too old; the rainy season has come.
Dear Mom, send my brother across; the rainy season has come.
Oh, dear daughter, how can I?
Your brother's too young; the rainy season has come.
Dear Mom, send my uncle across; the rainy season has come.
Oh, dear daughter, how can I?
Your uncle's too dandy; the rainy season has come.

© Yousuf Saeed -- Contribute for our Cause