February 5, 2002

The only time I met Dr Farman Fatehpuri was with the late Professor Sajjad Baqar Rizvi. It was in the early fifties. He had a few old and some new books before him, whose texts he was comparing to see the degree of plagiarism in a new one. That gave me an idea, for the first time, of the patience and commitment that true scholarship demands. Since then, every piece from him that I have read, has confirmed that impression. I always learn from him.

Amali tanqeedein has twenty-eight pieces, each of which requires undivided attention. Their subjects range from literary criticism to pen portraits and cultural and historical studies. Here, we learn that Urdu poetry freed itself of ellipticism under Wali’s influence. The great master from Ahmedabad used Persian expressions but without rejecting Urdu’s Sanskrit roots. Another piece is about Seemab’s social poetry, which has obviously not been accorded its due place.

Discussing Iqbal and ghazal, Dr Fatehpuri says, “Poetry is not just realism. Realism cannot succeed without a veil of romance and imagination.” Praising Iqbal is our national pastime. And no doubt, he has given us the great thought of the infinite capacity of man for action. However, being an idealist, he attributes our decadence to the sterility of our thought in which sufism takes a generous portion of blame. However, it could be the other way. Intellectual growth ceased because material progress came to an end.

Dr Fatehpuri identifies Faiz’s penchant for the use of old symbols to express new thoughts, which is perhaps the poet’s most important contribution to Urdu literature.

Fatehpuri’s statement that Ghalib had written most of his best Urdu poetry by the age of nineteen, seems true. But Ghalib’s own claim that he turned to Persian because Urdu was an inadequate medium for his thought, calls for two comments. He saw that he was over-shadowed by Momin and Zauq. So he escaped into Persian. Secondly, as Faiz says, all languages are rich. So if Ghalib did not find Urdu measuring up to his demands, it could be because he did not have adequate mastery over the language, at least in the beginning.

The author is right that Jigar was not able to transcend the body in any sense, except perhaps towards the end. But the spontaneity of his expression of longing is more appealing to an ordinary person than, for example, the sophistication of a Firaq.

The author’s research on the sources of Naseem’s masnavi shows Dr Fatehpuri at his best — the patient search for sources, the rigorous standards, the judicious conclusions — everything is there. True, the poem suffers from the defects of the Lucknow school. But it is, in some ways, more attractive than Hasan’s work. It is a piece of filigree to Hasan’s majestic, graceful arches.

On Pakistan’s culture, Dr Fatehpuri has le dernier mot — the culture must be vertical in the absence of material homogeneity. Similarly, on the cultural background of the Pakistan movement, he says the linguistic conflict was not the cause of South Asia’s partition. But it was its starting point.

Akbar Allahabadi may have agreed basically with Sir Syed, as Dr Fatehpuri says, and may only have wanted him to moor the modern education in “our tradition”. But the general impression remains that he counterpoised his concept of religion against rationalism. After all, Aligarh was not another “League of the Godless”. If, as the author says, Akbar’s influence turns out to be more durable than Sir Syed’s, it is because our society has not been able to evolve a satisfactory approach to ijtihad up to now.

It is clear that Ram Mohan Roy had a narrow communalist outlook, as against Sir Syed’s inclusive vision of India. And that problem persisted right down to Independence, leading to partition. The Hindu leaders, including Tilak, Gandhi, Patel etc., automatically reduced Indian nationalism to Hindu nationalism. Where did that leave the Muslims, the second majority?

Then there are articles on an early Persian poetess, Rabia, Maulana Ahmed Raza Khan’s naats, Nasikh, Europe’s epic poems, Ahmed Nadim Qasmi’s symbolism, Muslim contribution to classical Hindi poetry, Insha’s Rani Ketki etc., each absorbing and each giving one new insights into the subject.

If these writings are prim rose beds, the Adab-o-Adabiat is a vast Chinese garden. There are little pieces and exhaustive reviews. There are sketches, discussions of etymology, pieces on culture, on critiques and critics — all drawn from Nigar. It is a book to be kept on the bedside table, to be enjoyed at leisure. Let’s open it haphazardly. There is a piece about a collection of Qabil Ajmeri. “In fact Qabil Ajmeri had, to an astonishing degree the will to struggle with the problems of life and to cheerfully face its ups and downs”. And then the couplet at the end of the paragraph.

Or, here, another example of Dr Fatehpuri’s rigorous approach to research. This is about Tarana-i-Shauq: “The story in the Tarana appears at first glance as a creation of the poet himself. But it is not so. Its various aspects and parts have been taken from other famous tales. One can actually say that its main structure rests upon Sahrul Bayan and Gulzar-e-Naseem.”

Or some lines quoted by Dr Fatehpuri from the poets whose works he has reviewed:

There are many misprints here, which is common in nastaaliq but also some lapses of memory in quoting the masters’ famous couplets. These are minor faults, which one hardly notices in the flow of a master’s prose and erudite criticism.

Amali tanqeedein
By Dr Farman Fatehpuri
400pp. Rs250

Adab-o-adabiat
By Dr Farman Fatehpuri
Maktab-i-Aliya, Urdu Bazar, Lahore
416pp. Rs250

Please Visit our Sponsor (Ads open in separate window)