Are you a third rate poet?
By Ashfaque Naqvi
LONG time, a poet who had come all the way from Rawalpindi to read a paper at the launching of one of my books complained to me that Ataul Haq Qasmi, who also read a paper on the occasion, had called him a third rate poet. When I remonstrated with Ata, he did not deny the charge and went on to justify it. “You see,” he said, “Ghalib and Iqbal are first rate poets. Correct? After them come Faiz and Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi who consequently become second rate poets. Correct? Now we who come after them can, therefore, only be categorized as third rate poets. What’s wrong with what I have said?” His argument was convincing.
This incident came to my mind as I picked up my pen to write about the mini-mushaira arranged by the literary organization, Adab Serai, every month at the residence of its chairperson, Shahnaz Muzzammil. If I say that all the third rate poets were present there that evening they would feel insulted. So all I can say is that the usual crowd of poets was there that day who presented their usual poetry in the usual way. I cannot add anything to it.
Earlier that evening, Shahnaz Muzzammil gave a brief review at the sitting of some recently published books. These included the collection of the haiko poet and artist, Sheba Taraz, titled Roopnagar, and another of the Gujranwala-based poet, Irfan Amar, Muhabbat Bayzaban Kiun Ho. The third was also a collection of poetry by Ashar Wakeel Rao, who lives in Sargodha. The book is titled, Tera Milna Zaroori Heh.
Incidentally the same book was launched earlier in the Lahore Press Club with Dr Khwaja Zakariya presiding. However, since the proceedings started more than an hour late as usual, Khwaja Sahib left early to keep another appointment. But he did say a few complimentary words about the poet’s verse which he found highly rhythmic. The presidential chair was then occupied by the veteran writer, Hameed Akhtar, who said in his remarks that he had not known Ashar earlier but after going through his book, he felt as if he had known him for years. He added that he had been associated with several poets during his long career but had always refrained from commenting upon their poetry. However, he felt that Ashar’s poetry had a certain effect in it. The same opinion was expressed earlier by Sarfraz Syed and Dr Khurshid Rizvi.
The present book happens to be the poet’s second collection, appearing only ten months after his first, Abhi Imkaan Baqi Heh. That augurs well for his future. He has tried his hand at the makalmati or dialogue form of ghazal as well. Some of his ghazals are unduly long and some have only four lines. He seems to be overwhelmed by romanticism but manages to make up for it with a measure of sobriety.
The book has been printed on art paper and produced by Syed Shahzeb Bukhari of Viqar-i-Qalam Publications, Urdu Bazaar, Lahore. It is priced at Rs120.
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THIS piece is about Pakistani Literature, a journal produced twice every year by the Pakistan Academy of Letters. It carries English translations of stories and poems written in different languages of the country. The object, evidently, is to make Pakistani writings known to the outside world. The journal has been published since 1992 but has appeared again after a long gap for reasons unknown. Perhaps, as the chairman of the Academy has said in the foreword, it was because of lack of good translators in the country. This is preposterous. There are several who are fully proficient at handling such assignments. I personally know of at least two in the city where the head office of the Academy is located. I can name many more from other parts of the country.
In the present issue, one of the guest editors has added his name as a translator in every section of the journal, probably to give credence to the Academy chairman’s complaint about the lack of translators. This guest editor is supposed to have translated writings of Urdu, Sindhi, Punjabi, Pushto, Balochi and even Kashmiri. He deserves all credit for mastery over all the languages spoken in the country. Wouldn’t it have been better had a Sindhi story been translated by someone like Amar Jaleel? It would at least have been from the original and not from an Urdu translation.
Translation is not a mechanical thing. If it were so, sentences like ‘my heart became gardens and gardens’ would be heard more often. While translating from one language into another one has to grasp the spirit of the original as every language has its own nuances. Even a great linguist and translator like AR Nicholson stumbled pitifully while translating Allama Iqbal’s Asrar-i-Khudi. He had to be corrected by the Allama himself.
This latest issue of Pakistani Literature was launched by the Academy at its Lahore offices. The launch was presided over by Hina Faisal Imam. Most of the speakers on the occasion, especially Yasmeen Hameed, said that the majority of our translators were not properly trained in the art. The same aspect was brought up by the president of the evening who said that our universities should pay greater attention to this aspect.
That reminds me of what the English poet of India, Sukrita Paul Kumar, told me during her last visit to Lahore. She happens to be the daughter of the well known Urdu short story writer, Joginder Paul, who settled down in Delhi after partition and keeps yearning for his hometown, Sialkot.
Sukrita teaches English literature at a college in Delhi and is director of a Unesco project engaged in highlighting Indo-Pak culture abroad. She is also a translator and has selected Bano Qudsia, Intezar Husain and some others from Pakistan for translating them into English. It was she who told me that the technique of translating from one language to another was being taught as a subject in India at university level. Is any high-up from our universities listening?
Getting back to the present issue of Pakistani Literature, I can only say that I have yet to see a more poorly edited journal. Leaving the contents and the standard aside, I would like to point out some glaring faults. For example, in the Punjabi/Seraiki section one does not know which of the published material is from Punjabi and which one belongs to Seraiki. Then, the names of contributors have been spelt and carried wrongly. Now, for all I now, Bushra is no longer Bushra Naqi, unless the editors have her Diorama in view, but is now known as Bushra Shams.
More surprising in this issue is the claim by the chairman that he is the chief editor of the journal. Why does he want to credit the shortcomings of the guest editors to his account when the entire spadework has been done by them? It was they who chose the matter and went about selecting translators. For good or for bad, Iftikhar Arif, is the publisher.

