By Humair Ishtiaq
THOUGH regrettable, reading Urdu literature is a trend not in vogue in our social scheme of things. The reality, however, is that unfortunate are those who are unable to appreciate and enjoy the variety and genius of pen-pushers who have enriched the body and soul of Urdu literature, and have defined and glorified its contours with their enviable writing tools. Since ignorance is said to be a bliss of sorts, the ‘in’ crowd today may, therefore, never realise what it is missing out on, but, to be true to the masters, calling such souls ‘unfortunate’ is nothing but an understatement.
Amid this gloom, the Pakistani Adab Kay Maimar series comes as a timely and wonderful reminder to society of all the legendary figures who contributed their bit to develop and nurture what we can today delightfully call Pakistani literature within the broader spectrum of Urdu literature. Ironically, this is one of the rare areas where we, as a nation, can take pride after more than six decades of independence.
Geographical boundaries and other obvious limitations may have deprived the series of a mass of legendary names — from Wali right down to Fani — but this has indirectly added value to the series itself by underscoring the fact that the post-Partition era has not been as barren as it is generally taken to be.
The series already has close to 70 biographical titles, and has yet to cover the likes of Noon Meem Rashid, Mushtaq Yusufi, Mukhtar Masood, Ahmed Faraz and several giants who have plied their trade as Pakistani nationals.
Unencumbered by the restraints of geography and nationality, however, the range of personalities covered by the series in its regional segment is huge; from Shah Bhittai and Bulleh Shah to Rahman Baba and Mast Tawakkali, down to the more contemporary Tanveer Abbasi and Ata Sha’ad, among several others.
Conceived and initiated in the early 1990s by the Pakistan Academy of Letters, the series was soon disrupted by the transfer of eminent poet Iftikhar Arif who was heading the Academy at the time. It continued to gather dust till his return some years later and it has only been in the last few years that fresh titles have started to roll out of the press.
The Academy has often come under criticism from certain quarters, and not entirely without reason, but with this series alone it has done a service to the national cause within its defined parameters that should allow it to hold its head high.
While the series editor Saeeda Durrani deserves a mention for her painstaking effort to keep in touch with so many writers simultaneously and to go through initial drafts handed over to her by individuals from a variety of social and linguistic backgrounds, it has to be conceded that consistency in quality in such an assignment is a difficult target to set for anyone. Some of the writers have clearly not been able to do justice with the personalities they chose to write on.
The Pakistani Adab Kay Maimar series comes as a timely and wonderful reminder to society of all the legendary figures who contributed their bit to develop and nurture what we can today delightfully call Pakistani literature within the broader spectrum of Urdu literature. Ironically, this is one of the rare areas where we, as a nation, can take pride after more than six decades of independence.
Take, for instance, the case of Colonel Mohammad Khan. There are very few names in Urdu literature whose fame is inversely proportional to the quantum of work they have produced. Patras Bokhari was one, with Col Khan being a close second.
He produced very little, but what he did clearly stands out above the ordinary. He was a true trendsetter in his own inimitable way. The book in the series, however, does not do justice to the great life it deals with. Even though it is the biographer’s second effort, he has still not been able to be clear in his mind what aspects of the colonel’s life he wants to discuss and what he wants to leave out. His often used refrain is, ‘who are we to touch on issues that he didn’t want to.’ If that is the spirit, he should have chosen not to write instead of now having written two volumes on the same personality without shedding any light on the life concerned.
Another disappointing work is on Perveen Shakir, which is, at best, a stuttering compilation of who said what about the poetess instead of being the writer’s own input. Besides, the obvious manner in which Perveen’s troubled marriage has been left by the wayside has made the text jerky at places.
The work dealing with the rather colourful life of Josh Maleeh-abadi also falls under the same category, taking the somewhat stale route of describing him as a revolutionary individual with a strict sense of self-esteem. There is no harm in having personal opinions, but in the context of the book it would have been better to at least touch upon the writings of respected scholar Mushfiq Khwaja about Josh – later compiled in a book form titled, Josh Aur Khama Bagosh. If such opinions were found to be biased by the writer, he should have at least made use of Josh’s own letters that have been compiled by his longtime and trusted friend Raghib Muradabadi. The Josh of these titles is decidedly different from the stereotype of a self-respecting revolutionary.
The problem with these volumes is that the writers have become overzealous in their efforts to steer clear of anything that they perceived as negative in the personalities they were writing on. The fact is that these giants do not need such protection; their literary worth is not as fragile as some of their enthusiastic admirers think it is.
The series has consciously resisted the temptation of ascertaining the status of individuals on the literary ladder. It simply celebrates the genius of each poet/writer and leaves credible material for historians of tomorrow to make their own judgment.
The titles on Faiz, by Ashfaq Hussain, and Manto, by Mubin Mirza, prove the point. Without being disrespectful or impolite to the personalities, the writers have covered their lives as they chose to live it, and all the controversies that surrounded their existence.
The book on Shahid Ahmed Dehlavi is also an honourable exception in this respect. One of the best in the entire series, it has portrayed the person as he was; a human being with all his greatness and, indeed, his shortcomings. This does no harm to the famed editor of Saqi; in fact, the text has ensured that he would now be remembered with much more understanding and for much longer. Had he been around, the moonlit prose and the flowing narration would have earned a nod of acknowledgement and praise from the man himself.
That the writer, Taj Begum Farrukhi, happens to be Shahid Dehlavi’s niece does not have much to do with the higher readability that the title enjoys compared to some others in the series. Had it been so, the book on, say, Nasir Kazmi should have enjoyed the same status having been written by his son Basir. But it basically depends on Nasir’s published diary, interviews and dialogues as the source material which makes it stale for those who have already gone through them. To the memory of a man who transformed poetry while he lived, the wooden compilation does little service, which is kind of sad.
Away from these fluctuations in the readability factor, the best part of the series is that it has consciously resisted the temptation of ascertaining the status of individuals on the literary ladder. It is always a tricky undertaking; more so, when the individuals in question and the jury happen to belong to the same era.
The series simply celebrates the genius of each poet/writer and leaves credible material for the historians of tomorrow to make their own judgment.
With so many commendable titles in hand and several more in the pipeline, it is regrettable that these are not available in the open market.
Those interested have to get in touch with the regional office closest to their area of residence – and there are only four of them across the country. The titles have been so reasonably priced and so elegantly published, that they are bound to attract readers across the land.
It surely has to do with lack of a proper distribution network, but the Academy is negating its own efforts to promote Pakistan literature by being negligent towards such a key aspect of the scheme. The series, beyond doubt, is worthy enough to deserve a wider audience.
Pakistani Adab Kay Maimar
Published by
Pakistan Academy of Letters, Islamabad
051-9250570
www.academy.gov.pk
courtesy DAWN books
