The poet who stole my heart
This reminiscence is a tribute from a staunch Ghalibian to Faiz Ahmad Faiz. Diwan-e-Ghalib in my twilight years has become a bedside book. It serves as an oracle, in addition to being an emotional sanctuary for me; never failing to provide a healing touch to my recurring trials and tribulations. But if I have ever fancied another poet beyond Ghalib — he is indeed Faiz.
While going down memory lane, one is often held in a trance that is overwhelming with the radiance and glow of the bygone era. Nostalgia is mystically believed to have its own joy and enthrallment.
It was probably sometime in 1965 when I was at the cusp of leaving teenage that Urdu poetry started to fascinate me. Faiz Ahmad Faiz, at the time, used to live in Karachi near PECHS Girls College, or somewhat closer to Khayyam Cinema, another famous landmark of that area of the time, but not anymore as it was replaced by a shopping plaza many decades ago. It was my daily routine to walk from my home in PECHS Block 6 to Block 2 for visiting a coterie of friends residing there in a close neighbourhood. So, I had to go past the legendary poet's house some halfway down the path towards my destination. I would often catch a glimpse of Faiz, mostly alone, taking puffs of a cigarette; or at times in the company of his wife, Alys Faiz, leisurely walking in the balcony of the upper story where they resided. Seeing him driving his Volkswagen (beetle) was also a common sight in the vicinity of Nursery - a busy marketplace to this day. Then there was a popular restaurant on main Shahra-e-Faisal by the name of Asker's, quite close to the famous lal kothi. Ironically, lal kothi assumed prominence, not because a retired major general, Akbar Khan, resided there; who deserved distinction for taking pride in writing rangroot within brackets after his high-ranking designation in the several books that he had authored. Lal kothi got its widespread fame due to a bus stop named after it in those days
Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Z.A. Bokhari and many other luminaries used to frequent Asker's restaurant and spend time in literary chit chats. We also had a smaller group of friends who visited the same restaurant for a cup of tea with a delectable pastry or patty whenever our collective pockets could afford this luxury once in a while. Our by chance encounter with the literati, especially Faiz, at the restaurant culminating in a salaam, would make me feel elated and more tempted towards revolutionary poetry, a hallmark of Faiz.
It was much later (around 1967) in life that I started dabbling in poetry. How Faiz influenced my passion would be visible from these two shers of the very first ghazal l conceived sheerly through labour of love.
tawaaf-e-koocha-e-jana na baam-e-jalwagari,
mizaaj-e-baada kashi hai na jaam-e-shab basari;
nishan-e-halqa-e-yaaran na dushmanon ka pata,
malal-e-zakhm-e udu hai na lutf-e-charagari
I then went to the US for higher education soon after the fall of Dacca at the end of December 1971. Sometime in 1972, a group of Indian and Pakistani Muslim students of the greater Boston area held a mushaira somewhere on Harvard University Campus in which I too was invited. I was quite edgy to recite my ghazal in the first- ever mushaira of my life as it happened to be my inaugural participation as a poet.
The verses I recited were in remembrance of the people who lost their lives in the language riots in Karachi when a Bill in July 1971 was passed in the Sindh Assembly for making Sindhi an official language in the entire province of Sindh. This was naturally viewed as marginalising Urdu-speaking people in so many ways. I remember the daily Jang carrying a front-page slogan "Urdu ka janaza hai zara dhoom sai niklay".
Coming back to my maiden recitation, I am recapitulating three shers just to exhibit the flavour that I had subconsciously acquired from Faiz.
tumhari maut hi paigham-- zindagi ho gi,
tumharay khoon sai chiraghon mai roshni ho gi;
khiraj-e-zulm ki her subha dilnashin ho gi,
laho mai doob kai tabinda zindagi ho gi;
hazaron sar sar-e-maqtal pai jab na kham hongay,
ajeeb tarha ki qatil ko bebasi hogi
Later in life, I read most of the works compiled by Faiz a bit more extensively. He was not only a poet with a revolutionary streak reflecting resistance against oppression and disillusionment with the socio-economic disparities; but has given us some fabulous romantic poetry. Like any great poet he expanded Urdu expressions to suit his vast realm of poetry.
While reading Faiz, you surf on a silky blue sea and then suddenly encounter muddy waters; or say, more like velvet patched with coarse fabric here and there. Yet the motley of a distinct political ideology fused with the traditional romantic ethos of Urdu poetry does not really devalue the creative luminosity of Faiz's stunning lyricism.
The nazm or poem Subh-e-Azadi or the dawn of freedom in the context of the Partition of India and Pakistan in 1947 reminds one of a blood spilling and futile journey in search of an illuminating morning that turned out to be the stained and spattered light of the sun.
Faiz's evocative language, glittering metaphors and a serene flow of rhythm enhances the stunning beauty of this poem to resonate louder and louder as time travels.
Similarly, another poem of Faiz hum dekhenge or 'we shall see' is amongst his precious gems. It is an apt example of how poetry transcends physical borders and becomes a symbol of fighting oppression and human rights' abuses — be it a fundamentalist Pakistan or a bigoted India. In 2019, the students of Jamia Millia Islamia Delhi sang this poem in unison for voicing their dissent against the Citizenship (Amendment) Act while facing the brunt of the brute force. They were soon joined by students at Indian Institute of Technology, Kanpur and many other institutions.
Faiz's lyrics resonated with piercing crescendo in the length and breadth of India. The ruling government got so unnerved that it tried to put a ban on the recitation, citing a trivial excuse that the poem is derogatory to Hindu religion. These two verses were picked out of context in support of ignited religious sentiments.
jab arze khuda ke kaabe se,
sab bout uthvaye jaenge;
hum ahle safa mardud-e-haram,
masnad pe bithaye jaenge
The intellectuals of India, particularly retired justice Markandey Katju, came to the forefront for rubbishing this conceptual aberration. It was explained that literature and poetry of the world is replete with such allegorical expressions. There isn't an iota of disrespect or profanity towards Hinduism. In fact, a verse of Ghalib with similar poetic imagination readily comes to my mind.
kaabe se in bouton ko bhi nisbat hai dur ki,
go wan nahin pa wan ke nikalay huwain to hain
The canvas of poetry is as huge as the universe itself. I would like to quote my two solitary shers and a ghazal that in my estimation are a modest tribute to an iconic poet with whom I merely share a feeling of neighbourhood and contemporaneity. In my two solitary shers Faiz's name has also been used in a literal sense. These are in context of the rotten political environment rampant in our country.
kuchh to huwa hai Faiz chaman mai wagarna yan,
mahkoom ki sada kabhi pehle suni na thi
itna huwa hai faiz tumharay kalaam se,
akhir bahar ayee hai lekin khiza kai saath
The ghazal is my monologue with the greatest poet of the twentieth century.
lazim to nahin tha dekhenge,
ham Faiz sahar ki jalwagari;
tum ja bhi chukay maikhanay sai,
baqi hai tumhari tishna labi;
han dekhye kab hoti hai sahar,
kab ja kai thamay ashufta sari;
woh sung uthaye phirtay hain,
kartay hain yahan jo charagari;
her dar pe gaye us dar kai siwa,
qismat may likhi thi dar badari
Haroon Rashid Siddiqi is a retired professional from the oil and gas industry and dabbles in Urdu poetry as a pastime
All facts and information are the sole responsibility of the writer