Punjabi Poem "Ambri" [Mother] by Anwar Masood, with English Translation

A very well-known poem [Nazm] titled "Ambri" [Punjabi: امبڑی. English: Mother] written by a very renowned Poet from Pakistan Anwar Masood. Although, he is widely known because of his humorous poetry, but he has also written some very serious pieces. This poem is probably among one of the most serious works by him.

I'm sharing a video of Anwar Masood reciting his famous poem "Ambri", with a short description in the start, taken from a TV program. I have attempted to translate this entire video, including the poem in English for those who don't understand Punjabi. Please note that this translation is not literal.

[Anwar Masood speaks]

"You have said something really nice in the start about this topic [i.e. Mother], and it surely is very hard to talk about it.
It took Ten Years to write me this poem. I was in Pindi Gheb that time, and one night this poem asked me to write it. And then I attempted to pen it down. I realized it afterwards that this poem was sort of revealed entirely upon me in this complete form and composition.

This poem is a true story, and the names of two student in this poem are real as well.
One boy is named Bashir, while his other class-fellow is Akram.
Bashir was late in the class, and the schoolmaster, called "Munshi", asked for the explanation why he was late.
Here, I'm telling it in front of all the audience that I was the schoolmaster in this poem."

[Schoolmaster asks Bashir]

You are so late today, Bashir!
Even when your village is quite nearby.
You'll surely get some severe beating as punishment,
As you have almost missed two periods.

[The student, Bashir, replies]

Dear Sir, please listen to my reason first.
Akram has really did the worst today.
He beats his mother, and beats real harsh
And this rascal has crossed the limits today.
He thrashed her till that butter-churning-staff broke.
But when some people gathered from nearby
He picked up his books and ran to school.

Sir, his mother then came to our home
Her face was full of bruises, her hands were swollen much
Her eyes were wet with tears, and lips were bleeding too.

She asked me "O sweet Bashir!
Please do me a favor today, dear!
Take this lunch to my son Akram
As he was cross with me and went without it"

She has cooked these special "Paratha" [bread] for him
And egg-pudding prepared with such care.
She has carefully wrapped his lunch
And handed over to me.

She was repeatedly saying this to me
"Please hurry up dear
Please don't be late.
My son must be fainting with hunger.
That poor soul went to school without eating"

She handed me the lunch
And I headed towards this school.
This Akram has really did the worst today...

---

Pleasure and the tongue

A Zen master was resting with one of his disciples. At one point, he took a melon out of his bag and cut it in two so that both could eat it.

While they were eating, the disciple said:
'Wise master, since everything you do has a meaning, perhaps your sharing this melon with me is a sign that you have something to teach me.'

The master continued eating in silence.

'Your silence obviously conceals a question,' the disciple insisted, 'and it must be this: does the pleasure I am experiencing in eating this delicious fruit reside in the melon or in my tongue?'

The master said nothing. The disciple went on excitedly:

'And since everything in life has meaning, I think I am close to finding the answer to that question: the pleasure is an act of love and interdependence between us, because without the melon there would be no object of pleasure and without my tongue...'

'That's enough!' said the master. 'The real fools are those who think themselves terribly intelligent and spend all their time trying to interpret everything. The melon is delicious, and that's enough, now let me eat in peace!'

- Paulo Coelho,  "Stories for Parents, Children and Grandchildren - Volume 1"

---

Nasrudin always makes the wrong choice

Every day Nasrudin went to beg for alms in the market, and people used to make fun of him by playing the following trick: they would show him two coins, one worth ten times more than the other, and Nasrudin would always choose the smaller coin.

The story went round the whole province. Day after day, groups of men and women would show him the two coins, and Nasrudin would always choose the smaller one.

Then one day, a generous man, tired of seeing Nasrudin ridiculed in this fashion, beckoned him over to a corner of the square and said:

‘When they offer you two coins, you should choose the larger one. That way you would earn more money and people wouldn’t consider you an idiot.’

‘That sounds like good advice,’ replied Nasrudin, ‘but if I chose the larger coin, people would stop offering me money, because they like to believe that I am even more stupid than they are. You’ve no idea how much money I’ve earned using this trick. There’s nothing wrong with looking like a fool if, in fact, you’re being really clever.’

---

"Stories for Parents, Children and Grandchildren. Volume 1"

by Paulo Coelho