AMILUDDIN Aali, as is now known to us, is the outcome of a missed opportunity. This I am saying on the basis of what I have learnt from the sketch he has written of Saail Dehlvi. What a fine portrait of the poet, who stands at the tail-end of the great ghazal tradition of the Delhi school. It forms part of the collection of Aali’s prose writings published by Coopera under the title Bas ik Gosha-i-Bisat.
What an odd collection of writing! It begins with the fine sketch of Saail Dehlvi and ends on hastily written pieces for the flaps of verse collections of some poetesses. This kind of a mixture of high and low offers to the reader an opportunity to make a choice of his own. And here, it is so easy for an intelligent reader to do so. In the beginning, we find a gallery of portraits. Maulvi Abdul Haq, Nawabzada Liaquat Ali Khan, Makhdoom Talibul Maula, Mumtaz Hasan, Jamil Nishtar, Inayatullah, Muhammad Hasan Askari, Salim Ahmad — what an array of personalities. And Aali does not always depict the man in detail. But he brings out the best in him in a lively way.
These portrayals have undoubtedly literary merit. The rest is a hotch-potch of journalistic writings.
Aali is at his best in his portrayal of Saail Dehlvi. Nawab Saail’s personality had something which tempted a number of people to write about him. Of them, Malik Ram’s sketch deserves special mention. Malik Ram, as he tells us, had developed with him a close relationship, which helped him to see the man from close quarters. But Aali, because of his family relationship with him, was perhaps in a more advantageous position.
Nawab Saail was a cousin of his father’s and so was his uncle. He had all the advantages a nephew has in relation to his uncle. Because of his involvement in ghazal writing from his early years, he had all the chances to flourish as his favourite disciple and eventually elevated to the status of a Janasheen. He appeared destined for this envious position when he was still a student and was soon going to be designated as the shagird of Ustad Saail Dehlvi. But, alas, he missed this golden opportunity because of his childish haughtiness. In his later years, he might have rued the moment when in the midst of the ceremony of shagirdi he refused to submit to the suggestion of a correction in his couplet by the great ustad.
Had he behaved in the traditional way, his rise as a poet would have been different. To the envy of his contemporary poets, he would have enjoyed the reputation of being the successor to Saail Dehlvi and the tail-ender of the distinguished array of poets of the Delhi school.
Saail Dehlvi was among the most distinguished disciples of Dagh Dehlvi. In addition, he also had the honour to be his son-in-law. This added qualification gave strength to his claim of being a successor to Dagh. But he found himself confronted with a rival known as Baikhood Dehlvi, who made his claim in an aggressive way. Saail’s was an amiable personality. His cultured ways hardly allowed him to confront his rival with the same kind of aggressiveness. But the poet had to endure within his own family the aggressiveness of his elder brother. I wonder why Aali has not cared to talk about another uncle of his known as Taban Dehlvi. In fact, it was in contrast to the aggressiveness of his contemporary Baikhood Dehlvi and to the anger and fury of his brother Taban Dehlvi that his amiable personality finds meaning and makes its impact.
Aali tells us that he had arranged meetings of Miraji with Saail. They were the two poets standing poles apart. But for a man who bore the brunt of the aggressions of Taban and Baikhood, it was not much of a test to face Miraji with his free verse. The traditionalist poet, stuck stubbornly to the strict rules and regulations of the ghazal, listened to the free verse of Miraji and observed his idiosyncrasies and yet kept his peace of mind. He branded him as Shair-i-Namauzoon. That was the only comment from him.
In fact, in his person the man spoke of a whole culture. And if Aali doesn’t talk about his other uncle, I can well understand the reason. He could hardly talk to him in the vein he talks to Saail. Nawab Taban had no patience with trivialities. One could take liberties with him only at the risk of being snubbed. Aali, though just a boy, was wise enough to choose Chacha Saail for his insolence.
Aali could have contributed much more meaningfully to Urdu prose, had he concentrated on this kind of writing.
AMILUDDIN Aali, as is now known to us, is the outcome of a missed opportunity. This I am saying on the basis of what I have learnt from the sketch he has written of Saail Dehlvi. What a fine portrait of the poet, who stands at the tail-end of the great ghazal tradition of the Delhi school. It forms part of the collection of Aali’s prose writings published by Coopera under the title Bas ik Gosha-i-Bisat.
