APART from his position as a leading poet in the modern tradition, Miraji is also known as a devoted translator of poetry. For him, translating was almost a mission to enrich Urdu’s poetic tradition by borrowing the best from other languages and making them a part of our own tradition.

One of his translations of the katha kahani tradition of Sanskrit has been honoured with a foreword by Saadat Hasan Manto. This piece of fiction was picked out from a poem written by a Sanskrit poet, Damodar Gupta, which may be seen as a versified katha. This selection, after being translated in Urdu, was published under the title Nigar Khana by Book Home, Lahore.

Manto says in the foreword: “I gather from what I have read in this translated work that the poet has studied in depth the dancing girls’ business. The study gives the impression that he has spent much time in their company and has carefully watched their behaviour.” He adds, “I wonder [whether] even now the dancing girls employ the same methods which were taught to them by male members of ancient society. I don’t agree with the theory that the dancing girls learn their intrigues from aged naikain. Since times immemorial, the males have been their guides… He is man, not woman, who has recorded all those fine methods, which the dancing girls employ. Of course, compared to naikains, experienced men have a better understanding of these girls”.

Here I am reminded of a statement by D.H. Lawrence, who wrote in his article, “Give Her a Pattern,” that “it is always the men who provide a pattern for women, and they faithfully try to live up to those patterns”.

In Nigar Khana we hear from Miraji the story of Malti, a dancing girl who knocks at the door of a woman well experienced in the art of coquetry. She pays compliments to her for her mastery in this art and begs to be taught.

The old naika, impressed by Malti’s dazzling beauty, agrees to be her teacher and guide. She starts giving her lessons and initiates her into the fine art of coquetry. She reveals the subtle methods of winning the heart of foolhardy wealthy men. The book ends on this last advice to Malti. But researchers of Miraji’s writings inform us that Damodar Gupta goes further in his poem and narrates how Malti puts into practice what she has learnt from her mentor. Later Miraji added a few more chapters to this narrative depicting Malti implementing the teachings. Those chapters had appeared in installments in the literary journal Alamat.

In the foreword, Manto is all praises for Miraji’s prose style: “We find a happy blend of Urdu and Hindi. Miraji is, no doubt, a fine prose writer”.

Miraji had also been writing articles while attempting to introduce new trends of poetry borrowed from other poetic traditions. In this process he developed a prose style that was diametrically different from that of Urdu critics in general. He wrote his critical analyses with ease and did not rely on Persianised expression.

But while writing the story of Malti, he has borrowed from Damodar Gupta and kept in view the cultural and linguistic background of the story. He has accordingly evolved a prose style which is well in tune with the background. This style, with a mix of Hindi, introduces a new flavour for Urdu readers.

The narrative is more a recreation than a translation and thus Miraji makes no commentary; it has been left for Manto to judge the situation critically. Man, according to Manto, has played the role of a tempter in this case.

He tempted woman to adopt this profession.

This is what Damodar Gupta seems to be telling us.