| May 14, 2003 | Wednesday | Rabi-ul-Awwal 11, 1424 |
Pakistan batsmen all at sea on seamer-friendly tracks
If I say that the 1970s was a time to remember in the literary circles of Karachi, I am sure that I am not exaggerating. Some of the players of those days are alive and cannot resist wondering and laughing what it was to live in those days. It was the Prose Poe-Cult which had gripped the writers associated with the Radio Pakistan circle of Qamar Jameel and it looked as if the traditional poetry was to be thrown into the River Indus simply because it had dawned upon Qamar Jameel and his young friends that it had become obsolete, rather dysfunctional.
Radio Pakistan canteen and the Saddar restaurants were the haunts of the writers who were found supporting or opposing the fad of ‘Prose-Poem’ in 70s. This fad had turned Miraji, N. M. Rashid and Faiz Ahmed Faiz into ‘traditional poets’. Their free verse was regarded as too, too traditional because it stuck to a certain rhythm. The more it was thought to have a rhythm of sorts the more it was regarded a traditional mode of expression like ghazal.
My goodness, I have seen some young poets discussing Faiz Ahmed Faiz, N. M. Rashid and Wazir Agha as the traditional poets, not dissimilar to Hasrat Mohani, Asghar and Jigar. Iftikhar Jalib’s Nai Shaeri had already debunked Miraji, Faiz and Rashid for employing a mode of expression which was anachronistic to the new sensibility. Their free verse, it was contended, had not liberated Urdu poetry from the clutches of an unwieldy and restrictive rhythm in the free verse. And hence they could not be considered as poets of ‘free’ expression.
In having the banner of Prose-Poem unfurled we saw a lot of affinity developing between Mubarak Ahmed and Qamar Jameel. Mubarak was a crusader in the typical sense of the word. Riding his cycle, this Gujrat-born Kashmir origin poet looked like a possessed individual. He believed in convincing poets to switch over to the prose-poem form in order to free themselves from the clutches of ghazal, metrical nazam and free verse. He reminded us of a lonely crusader who thought that the nation was to be saved from the restrictive prosody of ghazal in order to realize its potential. For him the prose-poem was not different from an atom bomb as he himself thought so. The former was “to be a deterrent against the obsolete ideas” and the latter was a deterrent against the enemy. Any other form, except the prose-poem was ‘enemy’ to him. Quite a strange logic and Mubarak Ahmed’s Kulliyat published in 1999, contains a piece which takes pride in the fact that Samar Mubarak, the nuclear scientist associated with the Chaghi explosion in 1998 and Mubarak Ahmed — close neighbours in the Shadab Colony, Temple Road, Lahore, should be treated as the two ‘important personalities’ who detonated the ‘bomb’. Mubarak Ahmed contended that he and the scientist Samar Mubarak had served the cause of world peace and human progress in equal measure. (Actually Samar Mubarak went to our poet’s auditorium — Mubarak Auditorium — to respond to the poet’s invitation to share the common pride of rescuing humanity from the twin dangers of obsolete poetry and inveterate enemy.)
As I said that the 70s and 80s in our literature represent a time when it was not possible to talk against prose-poem without expecting the mid-might knock from Mubarak Ahmed who would ring the bell of an imagined or real adversary’s door to proceed with the dialogue: Either accept the prose-poetry fad or face the Munazra (public confrontation). He was a prose-poem activist out to convert others to his point of view. Perhaps never before in the history of Urdu poetry we saw such a fervour.
In Karachi the prose-poem circle was formed in which Ahmed Hamadani and Himayat Ali Shair teamed up with Qamar Jameel to risk their credentials as the progressive writers. They knew that Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Ahmed Nadim Qasimi — along with Majnoon Gorakhpuri, Akhtar Hussain Raipuri and Zaheer Kashmiri — had opposed the crusading fervour of the prose-poem.
Among the young poets, Azra Abbas, Sara Shugafta, Afzal Syed and Tanwir Anjum were being promoted as they were the young ‘Fidais’ of the movement. Fatima Hasan in particular has the knack of siding with every non-traditional movement. Rais Faroogh enjoyed the rank of a companion of Qamar Jameel with Zamir Badayuni acting as the Exegestist of the Movement. It was really a mad, mad time. Anyone who did not subscribe to the Qamar Jameel and Mubarak Ahmed’s Pincer Movement was in danger of losing his literary career.
Any how the time rolled on and we came to a situation when the Movement lost its steam even when the advocates of the New Poetry also joined its bandwagon. Perhaps this columnist, in the 70s and 80s, had tried to capture the atmosphere to some extent in these columns because the prose-poem bogey was not as innocent as it sounded. Granted that it was more ‘comic’ than tragic, it wanted to sound as a death knell to ghazal and traditional modes of expression without realizing that it was not possible to break loose from the tradition.
In the end the comedy became pronounced when Mubarak Ahmed declared that the prose-poem, as it was being written by Kishwar Naheed, Azra Abbas and Qamar Jameel, was not a prose-poem and they did not know what the prose-poem was. How strange!
The comic part of the Prose Poem Movement was that while the movement ruled out ghazal as a suitable vehicle of poetic expression Qamar Jameel surprised us all when he eulogized Athar Nafees’s collection of ghazals Kalam at its launching ceremony. One felt relieved that exceptions were possible in practice whereas they were non-existent in theory.
SHEHR-I-SUKHAN Not that the ghazal poets gave up writing ghazals. John Elia, Alamtah Tashna, Razi Akhtar Shauq, Obaidullah Aleem, besides many senior poets, continued to seek shelter under the panoply of ghazal. Another poet who held the torch of ghazal aloft was Anwar Khalil whose collection Shehr-i-Sukhan reminds us of the strange times Karachi had to pass through in the 60s, 70s and 80s. His collection is a nostalgic collection in a sense that it successfully sums up the mood of the city through the sensibility of a perceptive ghazal poet who is wedded to the tradition and knows the art of ventilating contemporary concerns without losing track of pre-requisites of ghazal-ethos.
Anwar Khalil’s collection, which is being launched this week in Karachi which has been central to Anwar Khalil’s ghazal poetry, is surely a collection to prove that Karachi did not respond to the prose-poem poetics the way its advocates had envisaged. Even Ahmed Hamadani and Himayat Ali Shair kept themselves glued to their romance with ghazal and ignored the agenda of the Prose-Poetry Circle which they had founded.
As one who knows Anwar Khalil’s career as a poet quite closely, I can vouchsafe to the fact that Anwar Khalil is a delectable ghazal poet. He adores Rasa Chughtai’s ghazal. It is only natural that he should not be very far from his ideal.
Anwar Khalil’s ghazal has made me revive the ‘feel’ of the times. It is good to recollect what it was for us to live in the city of our youthful days. Truly this is a poetry of remembrance of a time which could only enhance its experiential significance in a work of art defying the ruthlessness of time.
PAKISTAN’S batting continues to be brittle and all at sea on wickets that are seamer-friendly. Pakistan has been unlucky too in the first two matches, having lost the toss and made to bat first.
But the new-look batsmen are showing the same fallibility as did their more illustrious seniors and much work lies ahead for the coach. Daryl Tuffey and Shane Bond bowled exceptionally well with the new ball and conditions were ideal for them. Indeed the wickets at Dambulla have been wholly unsuited for the one-day game but this does not quite mitigate some clueless batting.
The problem with this new-look Pakistan team is that the first three batting slots are occupied by batsmen who are still raw and Pakistan needs at least one experienced batsman at the top. To lose early wickets regularly means that by the time the more established batsmen come in, the innings is in need of repair.
Some serious thought must be given to a change of batting order. In the one-day game, there is no requirement of specialist openers. Both Sachin Tendulkar and Saurav Ganguly are a case in point.
Abdul Razzaq who should be quite used to being shuffled about may be the answer and either Yousuf Youhana or Younis Khan should come one down. At the present, all the experience is packed in the middle and lower middle order.
The bowling has looked good, though, when the matches move to Colombo, Pakistan’s spinners will face sterner tests. We all have our fingers crossed but Shoaib Akhtar has bowled as well as he has ever bowled.
Shoaib is still lightning quick but he has become a thinking fast bowler, which many may consider an oxymoron, but he using the slower ball more effectively, switching to round-the-ticket to get a better aim at the rib-cage and the he won the little duel he had with Chris Cairns hands down. Cairns did not just look ill at ease, he looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car.
If Shoaib Akhtar can retain this form, I will back Pakistan to win the tournament. Of course, he will need some help from the batsmen. Shoaib top scored in the match against New Zealand but that does mean that he merits a promotion in the batting, coming ahead of Abdul Razzaq and Rashid Latif as he did against Sri Lanka.
Despite the rather heavy loss against New Zealand, I can’t help feeling that it might have been another story had New Zealand batted first on a wicket which may have been brown in colour had all the characteristics of a green-top.
But the Pakistan team still has an unsettled look but it seems to have vitality and the fielding has been sharp. At least, the effort is being made and so far the only thing sloppy about the team is that one or two players could do with a shave.
One thing that Australians cannot be ‘accused’ of is being magnanimous. Three up in a four-Test series, they went about the quest of a ‘whitewash’ with the same fierceness and bad-humour that marks their way of playing cricket.
Brian Lara and Steve Waugh had an exchange of fiery words and Lara was subjected to a barrage of short-pitched bowling. The umpire, David Shepherd had to intervene like a referee separating two boxers in a clinch. Sledging is now called ‘verbals’ as if this change of terminology makes it less coarse and less boorish.
But I was shocked by the attitude of the match referee Mike Procter who shrugged his shoulders and said that this was what Test cricket was all about. So too was body-line! And the Australians made such a song and dance about it and even threaten to break-off diplomatic relations. I do not agree that this what Test cricket is all about.
A lot of very young cricketers watch the matches and try and copy the gestures of the players. The persistent, earsplitting appealing is bad enough, which to me amounts to the intimidation of the umpires but to see two Test captains squaring-off is unacceptable. Even more unacceptable is the match referee’s cheerful justification.
Having said that, Lara’s innings was pure magic. It didn’t last very long but while it did, the glum expression on Waugh’s face said it all. Lara played one cover-drive and it had happened so fast, the ball delivered, the ball hit and the ball crossing the boundary-rope that the commentator was left speechless. Just as well, it would have needed a poet to do it justice.
I notice that Jermaine Lawson, the West Indian fast bowler’s action is to be examined. He took seven wickets in Australia’s first innings. Is it a coincidence that both Muttiah Muralitharan and Shoaib Akhtar were called for ‘chucking’ when bowling against Australia?