Poetry and violence
The launch of Rasa Chughtai’s complete poetical works was set for December 27, 2007, the day Benazir Bhutto was assassinated by terrorists in Rawalpindi. The incident triggered an unprecedented cycle of violence across Karachi – killings, arson, vandalism and looting. Naturally, the event was postponed for an indefinite period.
Born in 1928 as Mirza Mohtashim Ali Baig in Sawai Madhupur district of the one-time Indian state of Jaipur, the poet is no stranger to law and order situations. He was stuck in an Indian camp in 1950 and arrived in Karachi several months later – in 1951 – because of the volatile situation both in India and Pakistan.
He frankly admitted that he did not want to leave India and settle in Pakistan. “I had become an alcoholic. My parents were deeply religious and I didn’t want to embarrass them any longer. I even told my newly-wed wife that she was free to decide whether she could get along with me and my addiction,” he said. In other words, like other drinkers, he could part with anything in the world but alcohol.
After doing his matriculation in India, he taught for a year and then joined the Indian police department as a clerk. But he left everything behind -- except the bottle -- and came to Pakistan and made this country his permanent abode. Here he joined the treasury department and was later transferred to the City Courts.
Rasa sahib said he quit his job in 1977 after the election. “I was head of an election cell. At around 3am, a magistrate rang up, asking me to make some alteration in the results list. I said it wasn’t possible as the document had been ‘gazetted.’ But the official didn’t listen to reason and the acrimony grew. The next day I submitted an application for early retirement and it was accepted,” he said.
He got an offer from the daily Hurriyat, an erstwhile sister publication of Dawn, and worked there for more than 12 years.
Writing mostly in short metres and simple Urdu, coupled with his humble and friendly manner, Rasa is one of the most popular poets of Karachi. Although the bulk of his poetry comprises ghazals, gham-i-rozgar (the anguish of life) and gham-i-yaar (the pangs of love), both occupy their deserving space in his poetry, but Karachi’s events have not escaped his purview.
In his youth he composed highly emotive verses such as: Kaun dil ki zuban samajhta hai/Dil magar yeh kahan samajhta hai; Tere aanay ka intizar raha/Umr bhar mausam-i-bahar raha. And his most-quoted couplet: Sirf maneh thee haya banday quba khulnay talak/Phir tau woh jan-i-haya aisa khula, aisa khula.
Self-effacing and modest as he is, his verses never appeared in Hurriyat. “Even if I was asked by colleagues for a piece of poetry, I politely refused their request. I thought people would think that I was being published only because of my association with the newspaper and not on merit,” said Rasa. “I never wrote to editors of other newspapers and literary magazines for the publication of my poetry. But they published my verses courtesy my friends and admirers.”
So far he has four collections to his credit. His fifth, published by the Arts Council, Karachi, is ready for launch. The event is now delayed by the preoccupation of Sindh Governor Dr Ishratul Ibad, a patron of the Arts Council who is supposed to preside over the event. This book, titled Tere aanay ka intizar raha, includes all his earlier collections: Rekhta, Tasneef, Zanjeer-i-hamsaigi, and Chashma thanday paani ka. He praised the Arts Council management, which has arranged the printing -- for the first time – of the books of three poets: himself, Anwar Shaoor and the late Khalid Alig.
He said he got along well with almost all literary figures, particularly those who attended meetings at the Halqa Arbab-i-Zauq. His strategy was simple: “I took care not to hurt anybody. But that doesn’t mean I appreciated their works for nothing. Rather, what I really liked I praised lavishly. But if I did not enjoy a piece of poetry or verse, I kept quiet. If somebody insisted on its appraisal, I said it was okay.”
His closest friend, however, was Habib Jalib, who was highly popular for his poetry for the working class. Rasa cherishes many fond memories of Jalib’s. Sarshar Siddiqui and Yousuf Jamal were also his good friends and continue to be so.
Inspired by the classics
He is inspired by the classical poets such as Meer, Ghalib and Iqbal and likes them in that order. He endorses Iftikhar Arif’s assessment that the 18th century belonged to Meer, 19th to Ghalib and 20th to Iqbal. He, however, has his own arguments to disagree with critics who rate Ghalib as number 1. “Ghalib was only smarter as he selected a rather thin volume with the consultation of his friends, and it really clicked. On the other hand, Meer’s treasure is buried in his voluminous collections,” he claimed.
He admires Josh with a ‘but:’ “I haven’t found an equivalent to Josh’s line in a poem titled Shahzadi (Princess): Gari guzar chuki thee, patri chamak rahi thee. (The train had steamed off, the tracks were shining). How imaginative of Josh, who attributes the tracks’ shine to his sweetheart’s travel on it!
“Josh was really a great poet of nature. But he did not stay on course. Instead, he tried to beat Iqbal, and in this effort lost his appeal,” he said. To make his point, he cited the example of Anees and Dabeer, the two great Marsia writers. “Dabeer tried hard to emulate Anees, put all literary ingredients into his poetry. But the discerning readers did not accept him as his equal,” he said.
He is an admirer of Faiz and despite his old age and falling health (he had a heart attack some two years ago), he recited Faiz’s verses fluently to highlight his poetic genius. He said Faiz was very “mehrban” (kind) to him. He has several anecdotes to share about his meetings at poetry recitals with Josh Maleehabadi, Jigar Muradabadi, Qamar Jalalvi, etc, and how they appreciated his ghazals.
Beyond politics
Rasa sahib said he had rejected offers to join a political party as he did not want to identify himself with a particular group. Nevertheless, he is critical of the Jamaat-i-Islami. “Maulana Ameen Islahi told Maulana Maududi that they would produce young Saliheen (pious youths). But see what Saliheen they had produced! It was the Jamaat activists who fired the first shots in Karachi University,” he claimed.
He is greatly perturbed over the current situation prevailing in the country, particularly in the NWFP and the tribal areas. He also suggested that people shouldn’t quarrel among themselves on the instance of their political leaders. “Politicians come and go, but the people have to live together permanently. They should be wary of the politicians seeking to serve their personal interests at the cost of national cohesion.”
He has remained in Karachi since his arrival here from India, except for brief visits to Multan, Lahore (twice) and Canada to attend mushairas. “Once I went to Islamabad, too, to receive the Pride of Performance Award from then president Rafique Ahmed Tarar,” he added. He excitedly recalled the Lahoris’ traditional enthusiastic response he received at the two poetry recitals he attended in the Punjab capital.
“They are really very lively people,” he said. It was a young Lahori poet, whose name he does not remember, but whose couplet seems to be preserved in his memory: Suraj ko jagnay mein zara deir kia hui/Chiryon nay aasman ko sir per utha liya. (The sun was only a bit late in rising and the sky began reverberating with the chirping of birds).
When I visited Rasa’s home, he sat resting against a couple of round pillows on the mattress spread across his small room with a bookshelf and a TV set in his modest double-storey Korangi home. His home also houses the families of his son, a daughter and a grandson. His two great-grandchildren -- a boy and a girl of three-four years -- also arrived after a while. The girl, being the elder, shook my hand, but the boy shied away.
“Most of the time I arbitrate their disputes,” remarked Rasa sahib. “Sometimes when I’m away, they sneak in and scribble, in my imitation, on my books and notebooks and proudly announce that they have also written something important,” he remarked.
None of his five children has an interest in literature. But it doesn’t disturb him much. What really distresses him is the conditions prevailing in the country, and in agony he asks:
Woh jo ik khwab dekha tha hum nay/Khwab he umr bhar rahay ga kia? (Will the dream we had dreamt remain a dream forever)?