In our ancient region of Sapt Sindhu (the land of seven rivers), later extended to the northern and eastern parts of today’s India, the festival of lights has always been a major celebration.
For many of the followers of Hinduism and those with Vedic roots, it marks the return of Lord Ram and his companions to Ayodhya after defeating Ravan. Some other reasons relating to other deities are also cited. For followers of other related faiths, the reasons or emphases may have differed over the years but the Deepavali, commonly referred to as Diwali, is marked each year with much pomp and festivity.
In Sanskrit, Deepavali means ‘the row of lights’, when earthen lamps are lit in an array symbolising the triumph of light over darkness. I remember one of the Diwali nights in Tharparkar many years ago, when a friend took me to the large sandy hill overlooking the city of Mithi. The lights emanating from the lamps in Mithi made it look as if it was a reflection of the starry night. In quiet deserts like Tharparkar, one can see constellations and stars glowing in a clear sky, as if the universe is closer. It felt like we had a shining sky above and a shining sky below in Mithi.
A few days ago, I had the same feeling of being encircled by earthen lamps radiating poetic light, while sitting and reading a new compendium of seven poets on a rather dark and damp night in Lahore. Spread over 295 pages and titled As One Lamp Lights Another — A Collection of Pakistani Poems in English, it is essentially a volume of original poems but some English translations of Urdu, Sindhi (via Urdu), Persian and Punjabi poetry by one of the contributors, besides other major poets, are also included. It is compiled and edited by the well-known lawyer, poet and litterateur Basharat Qadir. The collection is published by Emel Publications, Islamabad.
In quiet deserts like Tharparkar, one can see constellations and stars glowing in a clear sky, as if the universe is closer. It felt like we had a shining sky above and a shining sky below in Mithi. A few days ago, I had the same feeling of being encircled by earthen lamps radiating poetic light while sitting and reading a new compendium of seven poets…
The poets in the collection include Mekyl Ali Qadir, Ghazal Qadir, Raabia Qadir Zia, Junaiyd Qadir, Khurram Qadir, Asghar Qadir and Basharat Qadir, the editor himself. These seven are the grand, great grand and great-great grandchildren of Lady Abdul Qadir (Anwar Begum), one of the earliest proponents of female education in Punjab, and Sir Sheikh Abdul Qadir (1874-1950), the founding editor of the pioneering Urdu literary journal Makhzan from Lahore.
Sheikh Abdul Qadir also held other notable positions and served as a leader of the Muslim community, particularly through the Anjuman-i-Himayat-i-Islam, before Independence. The generations coming after have not only continued the family’s penchant for literature, poetry, academic excellence and scholarship in various disciplines over generations, but produced enjoyable and meaningful works of poetry.
Reading the two young women (Ghazal and Raabia) in the collection, along with the five men of multiple age groups, brings forth how they have, in their own ways, embraced a compassionate and a plural discourse when it comes to dealing with the intellectual and social concerns of our times. On the one hand, there is the angst that comes from within, due to the material and spiritual desires that delude us. On the other hand, there is this global human condition that envelops the poet’s being without her/him knowing.
The youngest contributor Mekyl Qadir’s poem ‘The Tragedy of Notre Dame’ is haunting, in which the poet not only meets the devil but also holds a brief conversation with the devil’s son. Ghazal Qadir has fewer entries but the directness in her work is driven by her rejection of social oppression and the hostilities she witnesses. Raabia Qadir’s ‘The Wind Trapped in a Cage’ has seven stanzas but I quote three lines: “I am a flame — on your palm;/ I am the wind — within a cage;/ I am a cloud — upon a page…”
To me, Junaiyd Qadir is a powerful poet who uses despair and sorrow to oil his lamp of hope. From Palestine to personal loss, the meaninglessness of humdrum existence and the ruthlessness demonstrated by the powers that be, he captures varied themes and emotions. “…Embrace the Darkness all around you,/ Embrace the Silence and the Storm.” Khurram Qadir has a few poems in the collection which celebrate the inner self and asserts its importance in the universe. He charts a somewhat different course from the other contributors, who recognise strife and torment but do not take it in stride as he does. His poems reminded me of themes in Bulleh Shah’s work.
Asghar Qadir is the most erudite among all the poets here. Erudition without aesthetics does not make poetry. Asghar has the ability to knead the two together in his creative responses to life, love and separation. He has also rendered accessible and meaningful translations of works from Urdu into English.
The last poet and translator in the collection is the editor Basharat Qadir himself. His translations have a wide range. Beginning from Mir, Ghalib, Urfi, Bulleh Shah, Mian Muhammad Bakhsh and Allama Iqbal, one finds many major and important poets coming after them. Basharat Qadir is a natural poet, whose work is laced with intertextual strength. He writes provocative poems of any length with equal facility. Basharat writes: “… And oh for that ecstatic bliss/ Of long and laboured breath:/ Though death itself is sweet, yet this/ Is far sweeter than death.”
The columnist is a poet and essayist. His latest collections of verse are Hairaa’n Sar-i-Bazaar and No Fortunes to Tell
Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, July 26th, 2026