Aap Ka Akhtar Shirani: Shakhsi Khaakay, Tajziya Aur Matan
By Professor Muhammad Akram Saeed
Maqsood Publishers
288pp.

Akhtar Shirani, the legendary Urdu poet who transformed the traditional contours of romantic poetry, has been rediscovered in a recent book — Aap Ka Akhtar Shirani: Shakhsi Khaakay, Tajziya Aur Matan. It is a timely intervention in an era where Urdu’s romantic tradition risks fading from public memory.

For many millennials, the name might ring a faint bell — perhaps from a fleeting moment of television humour, when the iconic comedian Umar Sharif, meeting cricketer-turned-commentator Ramiz Raja, teasingly asked why he was giving an “Akhtar Shirani look.” For a generation more attuned to memes than mushairas, the name may sound like a relic from another time. Yet, behind that lighthearted reference lies the story of one of Urdu’s most celebrated romantic poets — a man whose verses once defined love, beauty and youth for an entire literary age.

A recent biography resurrects the aura around Akhtar Shirani, one of Urdu’s most influential but often forgotten romantic poets

For someone like me, who discovered the work of the great Saadat Hasan Manto only after turning 18, I first came across Akhtar Shirani as one of Manto’s pen sketches. Manto admired Shirani’s emotional purity and lyrical idealism but also hinted at how that same sensitivity consumed him. He portrayed the poet as passionate in love, vulnerable to pain, and neglected by a society that adored his verses but ignored his suffering — “a man forever searching for the same beauty and affection he created in his poetry.”

Aap Ka Akhtar Shirani by Professor Muhammad Akram Saeed picks up this thread, reintroducing the forgotten romantic poet of yore through a collection of sketches and analyses by various authors. A lecturer with over two decades of teaching at Government College, Sheikhupura, Saeed’s portrayal moves beyond the textbook image of Shirani as a “poet of love”, revealing instead a craftsman of language and feeling whose verses still echo with tenderness, longing and timeless human emotion.

What sets Saeed’s work apart is his refusal to romanticise the poet’s ruin — instead, he pieces together the contradictions of Shirani’s personality with compassion and literary discipline, allowing readers to see the man behind the myth. With carefully chosen excerpts and biographical reflections in the 288-page book, the author reminds readers that Akhtar Shirani was not merely an echo from the past — he was, and remains, a voice of timeless yearning.

The book reveals the true creative power and poetic depth of Shirani. Admired by the renowned critic Agha Sorish Kashmiri and the celebrated playwright Agha Hashar, Shirani was influential in shaping literary greats such as Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi and Abdul Hamid Adam, who held him in the highest regard. Larger than life in his days, he slipped away quietly — his funeral, held two days after his death on September 9, 1948, was overshadowed by the passing of the Father of the Nation, Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah.

Tributes flowed at the time from some of Urdu literature’s finest voices, which are included in the book. Among them is one by Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi, who openly acknowledged that it was Akhtar Shirani’s poetry that inspired him to become a poet. His tender romanticism and lyrical grace stood in refreshing contrast to the political and reformist tones that dominated his era. The book also carries pen sketches of Shirani by luminaries such as Shoukat Thanvi, Sadiq-ul-Khairi, Mirza Adeeb and Nawabzada Nasrullah Khan, aka Baba-i-Jamhooriat.

Each chapter transports the reader back in time, vividly recreating the Lahore of the 1930s and 1940s — its gatherings, its charm, and the vibrant literary spirit that defined an age. The clip-clop of tongas Shirani once rode, echoing alongside chants of “Pakistan Zindabad”; the serene Lahore where he received love letters from “parda-nasheen” [veiled] admirers; and the city’s vibrant culture of mushairas, literary magazines and roadside hotels — all come vividly to life once again.

Born in 1905 in Tonk in Rajasthan, Akhtar was named Daud by his father, Hafiz Mehmood Shirani, a distinguished professor of Persian. When Daud was nine, his father returned from the United Kingdom, full of dreams and expectations for his only son — but destiny had other plans. Father and son were seldom on the same page, a clash that nearly every writer has touched upon in their sketches of him.

Akhtar moved to Lahore with his family at the age of 15 where, after a few years of half-hearted attempts at studies, he abandoned academics for journalism and then later poetry — a decision that would define his life. Restless and impulsive, he threw himself into literary pursuits, founding and later folding several literary magazines with equal passion and impatience. Known for his love of cigarettes and drink, Akhtar lived a life of shifting focus — brilliant yet erratic, devoted to art but perpetually at odds with order.

Shirani was the first major Urdu poet to change the gender of the ‘mehboob’ [beloved] from male to female, introducing a more personal and emotionally direct form of romantic expression. This shift gave Urdu poetry a new intimacy and made Shirani’s work accessible to broader audiences, particularly younger readers who saw their own emotions reflected in his verse.

One of the most fascinating aspects highlighted in the book is Shirani’s frequent use of the name “Salma” — a symbolic presence throughout his poetry. To many, Salma was both real and imagined, a poetic ideal through which Shirani expressed love, beauty and longing. In doing so, he broke from classical tradition.

Admired by the renowned critic Agha Sorish Kashmiri and the celebrated playwright Agha Hashar, Akhtar Shirani was influential in shaping literary greats such as Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi and Abdul Hamid Adam, who held him in the highest regard.

Many believed that Salma was merely a metaphor — like Zuleikha, Rehana or Azra, names he also used — yet others insisted, with evidence in hand, that Salma was very much real. Whether real or imagined, “Salma” became the prism through which Shirani explored the interplay between longing and loss — turning personal yearning into a universal idiom of love.

The book recalls Shirani’s deep admiration for Maulana Muhammad Ali Jauhar, the celebrated journalist, poet and freedom fighter. Jauhar recognised Shirani’s extraordinary talent early on, praising his lyrical voice and inviting him to write for his influential magazine Hamdard. This association not only affirmed Shirani’s place among the literary elite of his time but also connected him to the vibrant intellectual circles of pre-Partition India.

There was a moment when Shirani, as editor of a literary magazine, approved a poem critical of Dr Allama Iqbal, when Iqbal was the crowd’s favourite. As the poem stirred controversy and fears for Shirani’s safety, friends advised him to go underground — but Shirani only smiled at their concern.

As a reader, I believe Akhtar Shirani’s life has all the elements of a feature film — a blend of passion, conflict and tragedy, vividly reflected in the book. His story is marked by a lifelong clash with his father, whose death — just months before his own — left Shirani weeping like a child. The mysterious presence of “Salma” who, according to one account, came to pay her respects at his funeral, adds a layer of poetic intrigue. His growing distance from his family due to his indulgent habits, and the eventual betrayals by friends and confidants, complete the arc of a life that was as dramatic as the verses he wrote.

In revisiting Akhtar Shirani, Professor Saeed does more than resurrect a forgotten name — he restores a voice that still whispers to anyone who has ever loved, lost or dreamed. Shirani’s verses remind us that, while times change, the ache of beauty remains eternal.

The reviewer writes on old films and music and loves reading books.

X: @suhaybalavi

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, November 30th, 2025