GONE are the days when mushaera, or poetry recital session, used to be a cultural institution. In the golden olden days the people attending mushaeras and the poets reciting their poetry had to abide by certain mannerism and formalities. For a poet, reciting verses in public was a kind of testing time since the audience consisted mostly of ‘no-nonsense’ kind of literary figures and poetry buffs. Some of maestros were so subtle in their criticism that merely their smiling or repeating a line in a peculiar manner or emphasising a particular word signaled to the poet that something was wrong with his verses; and the poet, too, showing presence of mind, sometimes changed the wordings then and there.

Old mushaeras served well as literary and critical forums in the absence of literary magazines and other cultural gatherings.

They also trained generations of poets and were a place to learn etiquettes and norms. Now in the new environment of a changing world mushaeras too have undergone a sea change. Mushaeras are no more a kind of ‘examination hall’ for poets as not only lovers of literature but common people too, seeking some kind of entertainment, flock to ‘mushaera gah’, or the venue of the poetry recital session, which may incidentally also be a stadium. So it is no coincidence that the audience at mushaeras are in a mood to have a good time by frolicking or what they call ‘halla gulla’, which sounds like hullabaloo.

This writer has attended some mushaeras where whistling and howling was an integral part of the proceedings for younger audience, not to mention clapping which has become a norm these days, though frowned upon in older days. The atmosphere there resembled a one-day cricket match rather than a literary gathering and the only thing lacking was the bugle sounded during cricket matches to celebrate the fall of a wicket or the hitting of a boundary.

Another change the time has brought is that now what we have to bear within mushaeras in the name of poets are, mostly, singers. With due apologies, some female lyricists, especially among those reciting poetry at mushaeras in India, are more like a singer than a poet (Munawwar Rana, an Indian poet recently on a visit to Pakistan, was quoted as saying that in India young female poets are preferred in mushaeras and older ones are not invited because of their age). Ali Jawad Zaidi in his book ‘Tareekh-i-mushaera’ writes that during the late 1920s and 1930s, a ‘mohtaat’ (guarded) tarannum (modulation)’ was already in place and, so he says, Safi Luckhnavi and Aziz Luckhnavi are especially mentioned for this but Hafeez Jalandhari, Saghar Nizami, Jigar Muradabadi and some others added an element of ‘ghinayyet’, or singing, to it. These poets were capable of reciting longer poems with modulation and tune, according to Zaidi, and soon it became the standard.

No doubt it gives a poet an edge and in the past too a poet reciting his or her verses with tarannum used to be more popular.

But popularity at mushaeras is no yardstick to go by and if at all Jigar Muradabadi, by far the most popular poet of mushaeras, would have been greatest of Urdu poets.

I am not underrating Jigar Muradabadi, one of the finest poets of Urdu ghazal that the first half of the 20th century produced, but I just want to say that popularity at mushaeras is not a standard of fine poetry to conform with. During his lifetime, Jigar enjoyed such popularity that the inclusion of his name was considered enough to guarantee the success of a mushaera but when one reads his poetry one feels that the dazzling effects that a poet creates with his modulation in the oral form somehow do not carry along into the pages of a book.

The instantaneous applauds and recognition that a poet receives during a mushaera sometimes become a stumbling block in his progress and in order that the public keeps on appreciating his poetry a poet has to compose poetry according to the taste of the public. Regretfully, Ahmed Faraz is such an example in our times. This writer has been informed by some insiders that Faraz had to revise and ‘simplify’ his verses for mushaeras because he thought they were too ‘intellectualistic’ and had Persian vocabulary that the general audience of mushaeras won’t be able to understand, let alone appreciate. Another glaring example of the efforts on the part of poets to make themselves acceptable at the public gatherings is the poetry of the so-called humour poets who sometimes utter downright immoral verses in order to invoke clapping from the audience. But one has to give credit to Jigar that despite becoming famous and being appreciated at mushaeras during his early phase, he changed his style in the later half.

Jigar’s early poetry spoke of love, wine and the charms and ecstasy of drinking. In those days he had drowned himself in what appreciated most in his poetry. His early poetry, says Dr Abul Lais Siddiqi, does not mirror any political or social conscience or any higher morals. But he was a poet to the core, brimming with creativity and sensitivity. So when his emotional storm subsided, his poetry reflected both romanticism and sensitivity to the harsh realities of the world around him in general and a changed post-independence world in particular. The just published selection of Jigar’s poetry ‘Intekhab-i-kalam: Jigar Muradabadi’ includes the verses that are reflective of his both phases. Edited by Dr Muhammad Reza Kazmi, the book has for the readers a choice of Jigar’s poetry that really made him Jigar: love, romanticism, sensitivity and a number of his popular couplets that have almost become proverbial in Urdu. Published under Oxford’s ‘Urdu Virsa’ series, the book includes a crisp intro by Dr Reza Kazmi, which succinctly covers the issue of popularity at mushaeras and the abilities to become popular at a mushaeras. Jigar epitomised those qualities but for some critics, according to Kazmi, this was a disqualification and many critics, including Saleem Ahmed, Niaz Fatehpuri, Majnoon Gorakhpuri, Hasan Askari and Kaleemudddin Ahmed, considered this popularity against literary stature and real value.

Oxford’s ‘Urdu Virsa’ series is a boon for poetry buffs especially for those who want to read Urdu’s acclaimed poets but either don’t have enough time to read at length or do not have access to a large number of collections of Urdu poetry. The series offers them windows to the world of Urdu poetry. —drraufparekh@yahoo.com