In this age of creeping fascism through the rise of right-wing populism and personality cults across the globe, a growing intolerance for any difference — intellectual or physical — and dehumanisation of the ‘other’ through systematic lies and shameless deception leading to violence, it is good to have a few friends who can look beyond all that is happening around us and who remain calm and composed.

It’s even better if some of them suffer from an incorrigible bibliophilia, keep introducing you to old and new books and then quietly convince you to seek knowledge from both the present and the times gone by in order to keep the hope alive in these testing times. I am really happy to have some friends like that around me but the five, all younger than me, who have introduced me to amazing books over the years should be acknowledged. They include Irfan Ahmad Khan, Jim Roth, Divya Singh Kohli, Faisal Buzdar and Mehmood-ul-Hasan.

A few days ago, Hasan brought me another book I was trying to find for some time. It is a translation of the Bhagavad Gita by Dr Khalifah Abdul Hakim, done decades ago. As many of us know, the Bhagavad Gita is considered a divine text in the Hindu faith and a highly regarded religious classic across diverse cultures in the world. It is said to have been written 2,000 years ago.

In the form of a versified dialogue on a battlefield, it deals with the dilemmas of existence, if and when a war can be justified, what is the higher spiritual understanding of human beings negotiating an insurmountable world and the grey areas between what is right and what is wrong. The dialogue takes place between the dejected and conflicted warrior Arjun and his charioteer, the Lord Krishn. Krishn reveals the truths of how the universe is run and how people should make their choices.

Hakim blends the Sanskrit names, the Persian terms and the Hindustani idiom in such a way that the translation reads like a poem written originally in Urdu, accessible to a common reader.

Along with other essential texts such as the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Puranas, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata (of which the Gita forms a part), the Bhagavad Gita has been translated into major world languages. Since most of us here in Pakistan access these texts through English or Urdu, there are quite a few translations available to us as well. It is also interesting to note that, besides being translated with the Mahabharata, the Bhagavad Gita has not only been translated into Urdu once but scores of times.

However, Hakim’s translation, titled Shrimad Bhagwat Gita, is not only a translation in verse that somehow captures the depth of the narrative, but it also ensures the seamless continuity of thought and expression. Hakim blends the Sanskrit names, the Persian terms and the Hindustani idiom in such a way that the translation reads like a poem written originally in Urdu, accessible to a common reader. The copy of the 2008 edition I have was published by Sang-e-Meel Publications, Lahore. I am not sure if they still have some copies left or if they plan to bring out a new imprint.

The idea is to share the joy of reading a good translation of a classic Sanskrit text, but by no means can justice be done to either the text or the translation in a few lines of appraisal. I would just like to give one example from the fifth chapter of the poem:

“Ta’alluq ke lazzaat faani hain sab
Tamannaein yaan aani jani hain sab
Har ek lutf se aakhirash dil hai sard
Ke dunya mein paida hai lazzat se dard
Woh lazzat hai bunyad jis ki saqeem
Nahin uss mein phansta hai mard-i-hakeem.”

The closest English translation of this thought I once read was done by Barbara Stoler Miller many years ago: “Delights from external objects/ Are wombs of suffering;/ In their beginning is their end,/ And no wise man delights in them.”

Dr Khalifah Abdul Hakim was a leading academic, thinker, scholar and author of the last century. Of Kashmiri origin, he was born in 1893 in Lahore. After initial education in his birthplace, he moved to Aligarh for two years and then proceeded to St Stephens College in Delhi, from where he topped in both his bachelor’s and master’s examinations. He also did a law degree from Lahore and earned a doctorate from the University of Heidelberg, Germany. As an academic in philosophy, culture and arts, Hakim served across South Asia, from Srinagar to Hyderabad Deccan.

In 1949, he finally returned to Lahore and established the Idara-i-Saqafat-i-Islamia [Institute of Islamic Culture] the following year. He championed progressive thought in Islam and some of his major books on Islam and communism including one on the teachings of the Prophet of Islam (peace be upon him) are considered seminal in nature. His literary works include books on Maulana Rumi, Mirza Ghalib and Allama Iqbal. Hakim passed away in 1959.

Hakim’s translation of the Bhagavad Gita with such integrity and passion confirms that true scholars can be steeped in one culture or sub-culture while being fully appreciative of other traditions of knowledge and wisdom in the world. They can be concerned about the well-being of their own community without being communal or prejudiced.

This also reminds me of Syed Zaheer Abbas, considered a deeply religious man, who offered a superb versified translation in Urdu of the hundred odd poems in Rabindranath Tagore’s Geetanjali. Abbas first published in India in the 1960s and the translation was published much later in Pakistan, about 15 years ago.

The writer is a poet and essayist. His latest collections of verse are Hairaa’n Sar-i-Bazaar and No Fortunes to Tell

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, May 24th, 2026