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Books and Authors

February 23, 2002




AUTHOR: Abdul Ghani Khan: Pilgrim of beauty



By Sher Alam Shinwari


In 1921, Bacha Khan founded the Anjuman-i-al-Islah-i-Afghana with the idea of introducing social changes in the life of the Pakhtoons. The basic goal of the organization was to eliminate enmity from the ranks of the Pakhtoons and forge unity among them. Bacha Khan sought to eradicate the social evils which had been eroding Pakhtoon society for a long time, and, in addition, he wished to inculcate the love for their motherland in the hearts of his people.

The Anjuman set up the the home town of Bacha Khan, and his sons Ghani Khan (1914-1996) and Wali Khan were the first to be admitted to it. Others were inspired by their example and admitted their sons to the Azad school as well. Quran, Hadith, Islami fiqh, Islamic history, Pashto language and Mathematics were the core subjects to be taught there.

Soon, the branches of the Free Islamic school were established in other places and continued to impart education to the people. The volunteer teachers and students would go to every village and motivate the general masses to send their children to these schools. This trained Ghani Khan in the skills needed to step into the thorny realm of politics. He used to accompany the teachers and students, make fiery speeches and compose poems to inspire and mobilize the people.

In 1929 Ghani went to England for higher education. He had begun composing poetry at the age of fourteen and was quite well-versed in Hindi, Greek and modern European philosophies. But his forte was aesthetics, first defined by Gawlan who, however, failed to identify as a separate discipline of philosophy. Plato put forward the idea of unification of ethics and aesthetics, describing aesthetics as another aspect of morality. Inspired by these thoughts, Ghani Khan developed a strong aesthetic sense which was drenched in the love for humanity. According to Plato, every kind of beauty is the imitation of the ‘Absolute Beauty’. Ghani Khan followed the same course.

Ghani Khan studied chemical engineering in the US and graduated in 1935. In a letter to Jawaharlal Nehru, Bacha Khan once wrote, “Teach Ghani Khan our culture. He has been Americanized during his stay in America.”

In all likelihood this prompted Ghani Khan’s admission (at the same time as Indira Gandhi) to Shantinekatan, the arts school set up by Rabindranath Tagore. Just a few months before Independence in April 1947 Ghani set up the Zalmai Pakhtoon Organization. But politics was not in his soul. He was once elected to the Central Legislative Assembly and was in India at the time Partition was announced in June 1947 when he returned home deeply disheartened with politics. On July 4, 1947, he was put behind the bars by the authorities, for his nationalistic views. Ghani Khan remained in different jails of Pakistan for six years and was lastly, released in 1954. He devoted the rest of his life to the service of his mother tongue.

Ghani Khan has not advocated any theory of philosophy but he was definitely a philosophic poet as his verses demonstrate:

I am truly and really a lunatic,
I see life in the eyes of death.
Another verse runs as follows:
I do not believe that death is the end of life,
because ecstasy does not end with the end of wine in the cup.


Ghani Khan has his own style of rationalizing his emotions. He loved peace, humanity, and images of beauty. Different parameters are laid down to judge whether he was an expressionist or impressionist, while he himself once said, “Open your eyes and observe a thing deeply, then shut your eyes, think about that thing for sometime, it might have left an effect on your mind, this is impressionism but when you put that impression on a piece of paper or paint it on a canvas, this will be expressionism.”

Few critics have bothered to analyze Ghani Khan’s poetic art and his sublime artistic vision. To break off from the Western style of life was in itself a great contribution of Ghani Khan to his own cultural background.

He always expressed his gratitude to Shantinekatan for giving him a sense of national pride.

When I see my clay-made homes
I forget about the cities of the world.
When you embrace a simple Pakhtoon brother,
You may forget about the lands and seas of the world.
I am thankful to Allah for having created me among the nation of Pakhtoons.

Ghani Khan attained the height of public appreciation of his poetry when Sardar Ali Takkar sang some of his inspiring poems. At times one feels that Ghani Khan has not composed poetry. He has breathed it out like the fragrance of a flower. He addresses every beautiful scene in his poetry, at times, even talking to the flowers and birds in their own language.

Ghani Khan’s poetry collections published in his lifetime are Palwashey, Da penjeray chaghaar, and Panoos, and The Pathans - a sketch (English prose), translated into Urdu by Gulzar Jalal Youseaf Zai.

The seventh anniversary of Ghani Khan’s death falls on March 16. Will it go unnoticed as in the past? If a poet of Ghani Khan’s stature is not remembered, then what will be the fate of other poets and writers? We should not let our literary treasures remain unsung and unhonoured.

Ghani Khan, who was a singing soul, a hermit with a boyish smile on his face, a great lover of peace and humanity and a pilgrim of beauty, shall live eternally through his creative works.

Written and translated from Pashto by Ghani Khan

O my country
O my country my treasure of pearls
In every one of your valleys are
The marks of our swords
May my eyes be sacrificed
On your mud houses
May my brain burn into ashes
Thinking of your glory
O how I adore and worship
Your mountains and the rivers
In your passes are
The marks of our swords
O my country my treasure of pearls
I am born of your dust and
You are born of my love
You are made of my honour
And colourful code of Pashto
You are of the blood of my father
and grandfather


In your heart are sleeping all
The brave legends of my past
O my country my treasure of pearls
What good are fame and respect to me
When you are poor and suffering
What use are glory and honour to me
When your head is bowed in shame I will make your dust majestic
With my young proud blood
O my country my treasure of pearls
Either I will make you the equal of
Everyone in the world
Or I will turn into black dust
Serving at your feet
will break myself into many bits
But make you great and prosperous
I am a man — I am a Pathan, don’t you
Remember all my deeds
O my country my treasure of pearls




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