Writers in Urdu have always been lucky to have had quite a large number of fairly good journals at their disposal. Such was not the case with respect to the publication of their works in the form of books.

Though it is not the case anymore, in days gone by, publishers, seeing the market for literary journals, got interested in this business. At the time of Partition, we had a few a few prestigious journals such as Savaira and the monthly Adab-i-Latif published by well-known publishing houses, in addition to private ventures such as Adabi Duniya and Humayun.

Soon after Partition, a newly-emerged publisher, Mohammad Tufail, brought out a monthly under the name Naqoosh. This soon came to stay as a leading literary journal. The leading publisher of those times, Maktab-i-Jadeed, brought out a journal under the name Urdu Adab, which, under the editorship of Manto and Mohammad Hasan Askari, stirred the literary circles. But it also triggered the kind of controversies which the publisher could not afford and so, after just two issues, it closed down. All the journals referred to above are now part of our literary history except Adab-i-Latif and Savaira, which somehow linger on.

Adab-i-Latif has managed to continue as a monthly while Savaira is no longer a regular journal. There are long intervals between issues, often giving the impression the magazine has discontinued. Then one fine morning it appears unexpectedly. But what goes in its favour is its attempt to maintain the standard Savaira has been known for. Its glorious period has passed, but with Mohammad Salimur Rahman and Riaz Ahmad as editors, it appears to meet its standard.

The present issue is a case in point. It opens with Khursheed Rizvi’s well researched article introducing us to the pre-Islamic period of Arabic literature. In fact, Rizvi is compiling the history of Arabic literature which is being serialised in Savaira. Fifteen segments have been compiled and published in book form and constitute the first part of the proposed history. The second part of the book is under process. The present is the 18th instalment in which Rizvi has discussed in detail the Arabic poet Abeed, who was a contemporary of Imraul Qais. This study of the poet also tells us much about the culture of Arab Jehiliya. This one article stands as a testimony to the high standard of this journal.

The next article runs under the title ‘Zatal Nama,’ where Salimur Rahman introduces us to Rashid Hasan Khan’s research published under the same title. The esteemed scholar has presented here a study of the life and works of a poet who was badly ignored by the literary elites of old Delhi as well as by the later historians of Urdu language and literature. That speaks of the short sightedness of both these groups.

Mir Mohammad Jafar, popularly known as Jafar Zatalli, in spite of his so-called vulgar expression, deserves special attention firstly because of his valuable contribution to the evolution of Urdu language, and secondly because of his standing as an unhappy witness to the worsening socio-political conditions and moral decline of his times. In his verses he speaks bitterly about the depravity of the privileged class and sees no harm in employing four-letter words for them. In response he was dismissed as one talking nonsense. That is what the word zatalli means. But borrowing the meaningful term ‘absurd’ from modern French drama, we may well call him Jafar, the absurdist. And how absurd was his comment, which provoked King Farrukh Siyar to pass a death sentence against him.

The king devised a strange way to kill him. A rope made of leather was employed to strangle Jafar Zatalli.

So at the very start of Urdu poetry we see the appearance of a poet who stands resolutely for freedom of expression and speaks truth at the cost of his life.