'Watanam': A Lyrical Landscape of Longing and Belonging
When the Ghazal Becomes a Refuge: Decoding the Layers in Dawood Sarkhosh and Suhrab Sirat's Masterpiece
“All great art contains at its center contemplation, a dynamic contemplation.”
Susan Sontag
Just a few days ago, after Dawood Sarkhosh released his song ‘Watanam,’ the flood of comments and interpretations online caught my attention and prompted me to reflect and write this piece. Coincidentally, at the same time that the song came out, I was reading Susan Sontag's essay 'Against Interpretation.' In her essay, Sontag argues for experiencing art as it is, without over-analyzing or reading too much into it. She believes that modern critics often dig too deep, searching for meanings and symbols, and in doing so, they might miss the pure beauty and emotion of the artwork. This trend, Sontag suggests, confines art to certain boxes and limits its impact. Drawing a parallel to the reactions to ‘Watanam,’ it seems that many of my fellow Afghans are viewing the song through a narrow lens, perhaps influenced by tribal and ethnic biases. This could risk overshadowing the song's innate beauty and the raw emotions it intends to convey.
Dawood Sarkhosh is a renowned name in the Afghan music scene and has a distinctive talent for creating music that speaks directly to the soul. His choice in ‘Watanam’ is no exception, marrying poignant lyrics with a soundscape that tugs at the heartstrings.
The visuals accompanying ‘Watanam’ are deceptively simple, yet deeply evocative. The video is set against a stark black backdrop, with Sarkhosh as the sole focus, clad in a crisp white shirt. This choice of a monochromatic palette, contrasting light and dark, can be interpreted in several ways. At a cursory glance, it presents a classic visual play of contrasts, but delve deeper and it might suggest hope emerging from despair, or perhaps the beauty of art shining through the enveloping darkness of societal expectations.
Central to the video's mise-en-scène is Sarkhosh's beloved instrument, the Dambora, whose soft and nostalgic sounds provide the song's musical backbone. Surrounding him are candles, their gentle glow illuminating his form and casting dancing shadows. This serene arrangement adds to the ambiance, evoking a sense of calm and introspection, which is reminiscent of a traditional 'Ghazal' setting.
The genre of Ghazal, a poetic expression that traces its roots back to ancient Arabian verse, is known for its deep emotional and philosophical undertones. Typically, Ghazals revolve around themes of love, loss, and beauty. By embracing the 'Ghazal vibe’ in ‘Watanam,’ Sarkhosh makes a conscious choice. It's a nod to tradition, to an art form that celebrates depth of emotion and the nuanced interplay of words and melody. The candles, the ambiance, and the Dambora all come together to pay homage to this genre, bringing its essence into a contemporary setting.
In essence, Sarkhosh's ‘Watanam’ isn't just a song; it's an experience. It invites viewers and listeners to immerse themselves, to feel and reflect, rather than merely observe. The choices made in its presentation, from the stark contrasts in the video to the embrace of Ghazal traditions, are a testament to Dawood Sarkhosh's profound understanding of music as an art form, and his respect for its rich heritage.
Sarkhosh's voice combined with Sirat's lyrics is the coming together of two divine forces, reminiscent of the powerful convergences found in Ancient Greek mythologies. It's akin to the meeting of Orpheus, the legendary musician who could charm even the most stoic of beings with his lyre, and Calliope, the muse of epic poetry and eloquence. Together, their union in ‘Watanam’ transcends the realms of ordinary musical collaborations.
Surab Sirat, an eminent figure in contemporary Afghan poetry, weaves words with the precision and delicacy of a master craftsman. His poem, from which the lyrics of ‘Watanam’ are derived, grapples with themes of displacement, longing, and the profound complexities tied to the concept of 'homeland.' Sirat's verses are poignant and resonate deeply, especially in the Afghan context, where issues of displacement and identity are ever-present.
!غزل نشد وطنم، اشکِ بی‌امان: وطنم
فرار می‌کنم از این وطن به آن وطنم
قلمروِ کلماتم مرا که اکنون راند
جزیره شد وطنم، ابر خون‌چکان وطنم
My homeland! A ghazal it’s not; it's my relentless tear, From this homeland I flee, to that homeland so dear. The domain of my words, which once steered me, Now an island it’s become, a sky of blood-tear my homeland has become.
،وطن‌‌فروش نبودم، وطن‌به‌دوش شدم
غزل‌فروش نگشتم، شد آب و نان وطنم
...شبیه گرد که بر بوریای بی‌وطنی
!نشسته‌‌ام به تسّلا که من جهان‌وطنم I never sold my homeland, I became home-sick, I never sold ghazals; it's the water and bread, my homeland. Like dust, on the burden of homelessness… I’m near, comforting myself, saying the whole world is my homeland, drawing it near.
وطن کجاست؟ اگر نیست هیچ‌جای زمین
کجاست بالم اگر هست آسمان وطنم؟
وطن چه است؟ غزل؟ گریه؟ یا فراموشی؟
...وطن کجاست؟ کدامین وطن؟ همان وطنم Where is the homeland? If it's nowhere on this sphere, Where are my wings if the sky is the homeland I endear? What is a homeland? A Ghazal? A cry? Or forgotten cheer? Where is the homeland? Which one? That very homeland, it's here...
وطن کجاست؟ که بر شانه‌ام چه سنگین است
غم ندیدن مادر، کجاست جان وطنم
چه کرده‌ایم که اینگونه نسل اندر نسل
قرار نیست، فرار است سهم مان وطنم؟ Where is the homeland? Such weight on my shoulders, it's clear, The sorrow of not seeing my mother, where is the soul of my homeland, my dear? What have we done that, generation after generation, I fear, It’s not settlement but escape that's our shared fate, oh homeland so dear?
The poem captures the sense of yearning, the ache of belonging to two places simultaneously, both a tangible homeland and the more abstract realm of words and language. Sirat presents the idea that when one homeland becomes inaccessible or inhospitable, another is sought, even if it's within the realm of emotions, symbolized by the tear. The transition from one homeland to another, as depicted in his poem, carries a weight of melancholy but also presents a ray of hope, suggesting adaptability and resilience.
When juxtaposed with the serene visuals of Sarkhosh's video, Sirat's words gain a profound depth. The Ghazal-like ambiance, with its intimate setting surrounded by candles, mirrors the warmth and nostalgia embedded within Sirat's verses. It becomes clear that both the poet and the musician understand the pain of displacement and yearning, and through their art, they offer solace and understanding to their audience.
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
Khalil Gibran
Art is a mirror, reflecting society's intricacies, its beauty and its anguish. In times of socio-political turmoil art can be deployed to serve as a call to action or a tool for resistance. However, it should be emphasised that it's not the primary function of art. The primary function of art is to provide introspection and profound resonance.
An artist is more akin to a healer than an activist. Their canvas, whether musical or poetic, offers a balm for wounds, both societal and personal. In aiding individuals to navigate and metabolize trauma, they play a pivotal role, especially in societies on the brink of transformation. Sarkhosh and Sirat epitomize this therapeutic facet of artistry.
Resisting the allure of over-simplification is crucial. While it's imperative not to drown in over-interpretation, I believe Sirat's use of the term ‘homeland’ in his ghazal transcends the mere geographic. It taps into the profound estrangement from one's linguistic soul, challenging the pedestrian notion of 'homeland' being limited to terra firma.
Sarkhosh's chosen verses poignantly center on the motif of evasion and the inexorable pull it exerts. This message, deeply interwoven with the human experience, gains poignancy for those ensnared in bleak circumstances.
Sirat, in his own unique way, masterfully underscores the intricate dance between the ghazal and the realm of emotion. When the ghazal is insufficient as a refuge or homeland, tears step in, becoming the sanctuary. The narrative is compelling: the ghazal takes solace in tears, suggesting a continuous quest for sanctuary and understanding.
“There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground; there are a thousand ways to go home again.”
Rumi
‘Watanam’ transported me through a myriad of feelings - from the profound sadness of lost eras to the hopeful anticipation of a brighter future. It’s a reminder that, amidst homelessness, homesickness, longing and nostalgia, the spirit of a nation persists, resilient and hopeful.
Every art piece speaks differently to each observer. ‘Watanam’ may echo with varying intensities for different souls, but it's essential to cherish it with an open heart, understanding its profound significance in the cultural and historical continuum of Afghanistan. ‘Watanam’ invites us to appreciate the beauty of the people of spirit of the people of Afghanistan and their unwavering hope, immortalized in the notes and words of Sarkhosh and Sirat.