Khushal Khan Khattak - The Warrior and the Poet
 

[CENTER][U][FONT=Book Antiqua][SIZE=3][B]Khushal Khan Khattak - The Warrior and the Poet[/B][/SIZE][/FONT][/U]

[IMG]http://www.zmong-afghanistan.com/images/khushal.gif[/IMG]

[B] [FONT=Pashto Kror Asiatype][SIZE=3][COLOR=#800000] د افغان په ننګ مې وتړله توره
ننګيالی د زمانې خوشحال خټک يم[/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/B]


I girded my sword for the Nang 'honour' of Pakhtoons.
I am the bravest of men 'Khushhal Khan Khattak' of my age."
[/CENTER]


Khushal Khan Khattak was born at Akora Khattak district Nowshera in 1613. He was an intelligent and bold person from childhood. His father Shahbaz Khan was killed in a tribal clash on 4th January, 1641. Mughal Emperor Shahjehan was the ruler of India during that period. Shahjehan had great regard for Khushal Khan Khattak due to the guts that he possessed. Khushal Khan Khattak was the ally of Mughals during many adventures and was awarded a Jagir and Lakhs of rupees.

The distances between the Aurangzeb Allamgir and Khushal Khan Khattak increased due to some misunderstandings and the latter was not remained a favorable person near the former personality.

[B][COLOR=#000000]"I have taken up the sword to defend the pride of the Afghan, I am Khushal Khattak, the honorable man of the age." [/COLOR]
[/B]
Mahabat Khan who was the governor of Peshawar had tried to keep the relation between Khushal Khan Khattak and Aurangzeb Alamgir and was successful to a great extent. After Mahabat Khan, Syed Amir Khan was appointed as governor Peshawar then the tension increased between Khushal Khan Khattak and Syed Amir Khan, as a result Khushal Khan Khattak was arrested and put behind the bars. Khushal Khan Khattak was later on released and returned to homeland in 1668, but the relations between government and him remained tense. He was a good poet and religious scholar.

He is also called with the name of Baba-e-Pushto. His poetry consists of more than 45,000 poems. According to some historians the number of books written by him is more than 200. But the books, which enjoyed more fame, are Baz Nama, Fazal Nama, Distar Nama and Farrah Nama. The Mazar of Khushal Khan Khattak is situated near the Railway Station of Akora Khattak in Nowshera district.


[U][B]Poems by Khushal Khan Khattak.
[/B][/U][COLOR=DarkOrchid][B]
Life is no life when honor is left.[/B][/COLOR]

[B][I]Life's no life when honor's left;
Man's a man when honor's kept.[/I][/B]

[B][I]Nation's honor and nation's fame;
On life they have a prior claim.[/I][/B]

[B][I]With thoughts of these I do remain;
Unvexed with cares of loss or gain.[/I][/B]




[COLOR=DarkOrchid][B]The knowing, the perceptive man.[/B][/COLOR]



[B][I]The knowing , the perceptive man
is he who knows about himself,[/I][/B]

[B][I] for in self knowledge and insight
lies knowledge of the holiest.[/I][/B]

[B][I]If in his heart there is no fear,
his deeds are not those of the good,[/I][/B]

[B][I] pay no heed to one who's skilled
in quoting the Qur'an by heart.[/I][/B]




[COLOR=DarkOrchid][B]The coming of winter.[/B][/COLOR]



[B][I]When Libra travels from the sun, then does winter come.
The world, once weak with summer's heat, grows stong again;[/I][/B]

[B][I] Man eats with joy and finds the taste of water sweet;
Lovers embrace again, arms and lips entwined.[/I][/B]

[B][I]The warrior welcomes now his coat; the horse, his winter trappings;
The one feels not his armor; nor the other his saddle's weight.[/I][/B]

[B][I] From SWAT the falcon now returns, like traveled yogi coming home;
And in the radiant moonlight hours comes the heron screaming in the sky.[/I][/B]

[I]----Khushal Khan Khattak[/I]

[B]The Adam Khel Afridi Maids
[/B]

The Adam Khel Afridi Maids
Are both rosy and fair;
Among them there are many beauties
With every kind of charm.

With great bright eyes, long curling lashes
And eyebrows arched and wide,
With honey lips and rosy cheeks
And forheads like the moon;

With tiny mouths like budding roses
And teeth even and white,
Their heads all clad in blackest tresses
Fragrant as ambergris;

Their bodies smooth as any egg,
Without a trace of hair,
Their feet petite, with rounded heels,
Their haunches plump and wide;

Their stomachs slim, their bosoms broad,
Their waists perfectly narrow,
Their figures straight as letter "I's"
And shining silver white

Although I wander, like a hawk,
About the barren hills
Many a pretty little partridge
Has fallen prey to me.

Young and unskilled, or old and sly,
A hawk always seeks prey,
And an old hawk's stoop is surer
Than that of a young bird.

Either the waters of Landdai
Or the Bara stream
Taste sweeter, more refreshing both,
Then sherbet in my mouth.

The peaks that flank Matari pass
Rise straight up to the sky;
In climbing, ever climbing them
One's angles soon gain strength.

I came into Tirah county
Among the Adam Khels;
Now, sat at heart, I've taken leave
Of all these gentle souls.

All love's affairs are well portrayed
By fire, O Khushal:
Although you cover up its flames
The smoke will still be seen.