Monday, 11 June 2007

“Khalilullah Raoofi” a noble poet of the Poets

Panjshir in the Mirror of Civilization

(Part Five)

Written by Salar Azizpour

Translated by: Abdul Ali Faiq

Raoofi might be one of the noble poets who have joined lately with other poets. Raoofi’s association and relations are as the following: as a family of poets, one side, he relates to Khalida Froogh, his nephew and Nepton Raoofi another nephew; on the other side, he relates to Farooq Raoofi who is the eldest brother of poet and so on… The purpose of this introduction in the beginning is to show that Khalilullah Raoofi is not only a poet himself but, he also belongs to the family of poets.

I remember when I was a little boy (the writer); I was acquainted with a group of literatures and well-known people throughout some meetings and parties which were managed by my father at that time. One of these great gentlemen was “Wali Mohammad khan Panjshiri”, who was a constitutionalist and later on, he was elected as senator in the senate. Despite the fact that, his job was tough, however, he never gave up; instead he continued spreading his bright and fruitful knowledge all over. He was one of the great intellectual scholars and who had lots of knowledge in faith as well as in rhetoric.

In that period of time, I was introduced to “Neelab Rahimi” amongst the researchers, whom I can acknowledge; he was the first who began his researching on the province of Panjshir. Amongst his outstanding articles, there is one article about specification of Panjshir’s name in the Ariana magazine.

Then among the comedian I acquainted with “Paeez Hanafi”. Hanafi was young intelligent, bright and brave. Without doubt, we can say, he was our first modern initiator of jokes. In conclusion, he lost his life telling the truths, (like Mansoor, a brave man in the history of Islam). He was a common friend of my father and Mr. Farooq Raoofi as well.

Farooq Raoofi our well-known modern poet and writer was Khalilullah Raoofi’s eldest brother. Later on, I was introduced with Khalillulah in exile, where our mother country was collapsed and we branched out from each other. Although, it is hard to get together once again in any part of the world, however, the only way to keep in touch is to share our ideas. It is easy to express our notions through exchanging letters or communicate over the phone, as dear Raoofi already proved it.

Raoofi is the one who still continues his efforts to rebuild and stable our lost values, and gives it remarkable thoughts and reflections of humanity. This great experience of humanities will go further and beyond our geography and ideology which links a Westerner metropolitan citizen to an easterner citizen, as well as a Khurasani of yesterday and Afghanistani of today. In such variety of ideas and qualities, having another look at our well-known people and reintroducing them to our society is necessary. Writing “Panjshir in the Mirror of Civilization” is one of these values. Therefore, I would like to allocate this part of my writing to Khalilullah Raoofi’s biography. It is worth doing so, because he is a great poet of those famous poets amongst us.

With this preface, I go back to some of Khalilullah Raoofi’s biography, as well as his workbook with his testimony: “I was born in the summer of 1324 in a poetic and educated family. While I was two years old I lost my father Abdul Raoofi. That was the hardest time in my life; however, I grew up with the concentration of my mother. Since after, I took my journey towards learning in the Mosque and school.

Since my subject was related to the military field, hereby I started my study from military class to military college and continued it in university in abroad. Subsequently, I got my master degrees in military. Besides military profession, the other thing that I felt affection and love for Farsi poetry, which was left to us generation to generation as inheritance. On one hand, the poetry was a relaxation for me, in the other hand it gave me a chance to be acquainted with well-known teachers, literatures and poets.

I remember the day when my great teacher “Wasef Bakhtary” said to me: (Mr.Raoofi, if you would stay only in your military mission, indeed your personality will be forgotten and you will be left aside). All pleasure (blessing) and length of life be upon our great teachers whom every statement they made was heart inspiring and unforgettable.

I served many years as an engineer in rocket defense force in my country-Afghanistan. After that I experienced so many tragedies through my life which came one after the other; From Dawood Khan, the communist regime, some Mujahideen, later on the Taliban regime. However, I tasted all good and bad things in my life .The life itself thought me a lots!

In 1962 I was appointed in the military correspondent administration. Then, I worked as a deputy post and director of military magazine as well as director of ministry of defense publication until 1993. When the Taliban tragedy came in Kabul, I decided reluctantly to get out of the country, which I did immigrate to a foreign country, ever since till now I live in Castle city, Germany.

A collection of my poem’s book “Benafshaha” (the flowers) was published in Kabul in 1368, and the second book by the name of { Far from galaxies(stars) and rivers} “Door Az Setaraha-wa-Daryaha” is under work in Kabul, it will be published and distributed soon, and will be available to dear literatures who dearly love poem.

I personally (the writer) did not know Mr.Khalillulah Raoofi before, just I have known him through his articles and poems about Wasef Bakhtari, and later on, I knew him as a beautiful human being, who deserves every thing.

I found Mr. Raoofi as a real writer and poet, who is full of treasures of Persian literature and poetry .Despite, Mr.Raoofi, specialized in military engineering field, and had a little time to become a professional poet, however, he proved his uniqueness that he is a real talented poet and writer! For more justification and testimony here are some (translation) samples of his poems:

A liar dawn (daybreak)

The palace of your age destroyed oh my country-fellow

Why the life became a prison to you, oh my dear country-fellow

Under a massive grief and oppressions

How easy (cheap) became the story of your death

Your blood shed in the street here and there,

It became very inexpensive oh my

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