In Assam, Syed Abdul Malik’s Ode to Composite Culture is Being Vilified on Social Media

Jyotirmoy Talukdar

‘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.

Malik, 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 Assamese

The day we left our place

Faraway in the west

Left our stately home

And journeyed east

So we did with august fervour

And sang of victory on the banks of the Luit river

We set foot on the green doob grass

And saw Assam had her own king and top brass

Her flag fluttered, free and sovereign

Tunes of triumph resonated, confident and keen

And, on that day, to show our strength we did will

The invincible Mughals shall gallop and take the wheel

Muslims will reign supreme

Assam will be ours, and Kamrup

Will be won by us – the Mughal troop.

As we debarked on Assam’s battleground

Where lush grass was to be found

The hengdang sword that in a bright afternoon shone

Was Assam’s own

Man or woman, each came to war for a free homeland

Full-hearted, not ones to retreat nor bend

The same Mughals who brought the Rajputs to their knees

Now stood listless before an army

That fed on mere water and hand-pounded rice

Victorious Assam sang paeans to liberty

And to a winning dignity

As the Mughals conceded to a worthier display

Of love for and loyalty to one’s country

The Mughals, defeated, looked around and saw Assam’s beauty

How it was a mine of love and of bhakti

Distant strains could now be clearly heard

As a free-minded Assam sang no holds barred

The Mughals turned back and glanced –

This is Assam, hills faintly visible in the distance all around

Each leaf luxuriant

The emerald grass tickles the feet as you walk

People here make sandals of ivory

And wash their feet in waters that glisten with corals

They wear bangles and toe-rings made of tiger claw

And play the pepa made with buffalo horn

The king builds temples with a sticky egg white and rice mortar

Their feet spall the gold on riverbeds

Pool barbs wear golden earrings

And the toads a precious stone

Here, sluggards successfully build a state road

New ‘sagar’s are dug in backyards,

And are built Rang Ghar and Kareng Ghar, pretty as paradise

A golden Assam it is

Where gemstones abundantly mingle with dust

Gold and silver are found aplenty

The sweet-toned songs can melt a rock

Is there another such Assam on earth, another Assam so beauteous?

Foreigners from a far-off land

Enchanted by another that resembled heaven

The Mughals were now a champion of Assam’s beauty

That day on, Ahoms are our kings

That day on, Kamrup is my nation

I live for Assam and die for Assam

The incense stick of life burns away here in this land

That day on, I am an Assamese from Assam

My dharma, my jaati, dearer than my soul

Amid Assam’s green foliage do I dream of happiness

I am Assamese until I am alive

And after I die

If I were to be born again

I would be born an Assamese here, carrying memories past

Assam’s nature has composed my language

My words, my songs

Birds and celestial performers

Stand still when they hear an Assamese song

Soon after my birth

I cried “Aai” (mother)

And when I die

My two lips will quiver, “jaao” (bye).

When I am up there in heaven

A bright place sans memories

If someone remembers my name

In Assam’s mellifluous Assamese

I will still comprehend, I will still recognize

And I will hang on her words

Even from the skies

I am Assamese in life

And in death

I am Assamese when alive

And when I die

It’s a peaceful Assamese death I crave

(Jyotirmoy Talukdar is a senior writing fellow at the Centre for Writing and Communication, Ashoka University.)