The Sunday Times, New
Delhi, April 10, 1994
‘URDU POETRY WILL KEEP THE LANGUAGE ALIVE’
Says Kaifi Azmi,
speaking to Shamsul Islam about mushairas, Urdu and its future in India and
Pakistan.
Jis tarah hans raha hoon pee pee ke garam ashk, yun doosra hanse to
kaleja nikal pare. (I laugh even as I swallow my tears; were someone else
to do the same, the heart would split into pieces). Kaifi Azmi was only 11 when
he composed this, his first ghazal. Sung later by Begum Akhtar, it turned Urdu
poetry into the main occupation of this scion of a Muslim zamindar family of
eastern U.P.
He chose, however, to break away
from the conventional format of Urdu poetry which suffered from an overdose of
romanticism. And in doing so he was among those who pioneered the trend of
political poetry in the language. Kaifi soon joined the struggle against the
British and in the midst of the Quit India Movement joined the Communist Party
of India. Assigned to work on the cultural front, he spent years amongst the
textile workers of Kanpur
before joining the central cultural squad of the party at Bombay.
Those years comprise the most
memorable ones of Kaifi Azmi’s life. For he lived in the Party commune with
Sardar Jafri, Sahir Ludhianvi, Jigr Morabadadi, Josh Malihabadi and Balraj
Sahni. It was here that he married Shaukat Usmani, and Shabana was born. It was
here that he earned popularity as a Hindi song writer.
But now the poet has given up
Bombay and gone back to the village of his birth in Azamgarh district. It is an
attempt to stem the tide which has seen the political system and progressive
intellectuals abandon the countryside alike. Disillusioned with the
parliamentary system the poet writes: Parlimany
siyasat main hum uljhe be tarah, Aur to iske siwa koi gila humko nahin.
And yet Kaifi Azmi, above 70 and
part paralysed, has not lost his commitment nor zeal for building a just
society. He is still a party whole timer, for he has not stopped dreaming. “Sabse khatarank hota hai hamare sapno ka
marjana” (It is most dangerous when even our dreams die out) he says,
quoting Pash, the martyr poet of Punjab. As a
popular Urdu poet, the president of IPTA and a social activist he is always on
the move, participating in Mushairas, public meetings and seminars. He thrives
in the thick of the struggle against exploitation, communalism and castesim.
And always accompanying him, like his very shadow, is his wife, a renowned
actress since her day in Prithvi Theatre.
Born optimist, Kaifi Azmi is in
anguish these days, though. Casteist forces playing with the lives of people in
this country have shaken him to the core. The demolition of the Babri mosque
brought forth the already famous Doosra
Banwas (A Second Exile), which had Ram lamenting the events of December 6,
1992.
The same resentment of the
casteist forces has forced Kaifi to react strongly to the canard being spread
against Mahatma Gandhi. His latest poem is a first person by Gandhi: Piyar ki rehgai kiya fizan mere baad, mutmain
kion mera qatil na hua mere baaad. Maine
dushmano ko bhi who shabd na kaha hoga kabhi, mujho jo kuchh meri beti ne kaha
mere baad (These is no love left after my death. My murderers are not
content by slaying me. A daughter of mine is now using for me words that I
never used even for my foes).
In such a scenario Kaifi calls
upon the Bhakti poet Kabir to rise from his grave: Kabir, tumne kabhi kaha tha sare bazaar, jo ghar ko phoonk kar aaye
chale hamare saath. Ham gehan se watan ko churane aaye hain, Mazaar se nikal
aao, chalo hamare saath. (you once proclaimed, Kabir, that whosoever could
sacrifice his all could be with you. Today when we are attempting to rid our
motherland of its eclipse, why don’t you come out of your grave and be with
us.) Kaifi is quick to emphasise that caste divisions are for more destructive
than a communal split.
There’s something else Kaifi Azmi
laments: the status of Urdu in the land of its birth. “Urdu is being sacrificed
for no fault of its own. It is a pawn in the communal game,” he says. But he
takes heart in the fact that in spite of the withdrawal of state patronage,
Urdu is gaining popularity.
He compares the love for Urdu in
India and Pakistan: Though an official language there, you hardly find any
mushairas being help in Pakistan; but they are so popular in our country. “And
mushairas as an institution in our country have great secular foundation,” he
proudly adds. “Those who bracket Urdu with Muslims must sit in mushairas to
know the truth.”
On a visit to Pakistan Kaifi Azmi
was naturally interested to note that Urdu poetry had two distinct identities
there: refugee and non-refugee. “Refugee Urdu poetry uses lots of Hindi words
and Indian symbols. It is akin to Hindi poetry,” he points out. Such
expressions greatly lessen the pain of uprootment and alienation, the poet feels.
But Kaifi sees no future for Urdu in Pakistan as people in none of its
provinces speak the language. On the other hand, he is sure that Urdu will
never disappear from India.
“Urdu poetry will play a crucial role in keeping the language alive,” he asserts.
But for that, Urdu poetry must come out of its romantic garb and confront
social and political issues. He describes Javed Akhtar and Nida Fazili as the
two most prominent Urdu poets.
Kaifi dismisses any suggestion of
adapting the Devnagri script for Urdu. “That would strike at the roots of Urdu and
wipe out the 200-years-old heritage of the literature,” he feels.
