Date: 11/18/96
To: Kumar, Arun
From: Qadeer Qureshi 

Kumar, thanks a lot for your posting about Muhafiz. I saw it on soc.culture.pakistan. Do you know whether this movie is available somewhere in Austin? 

Qadeer A. Qureshi 

Dear Qadeer, 

    Thanks for your interest. I saw the movie in St. Louis where it played on a big screen. I'll bet that it's available at your local Blockbuster. Certainly MGM Indian Groceries on Lamar has a copy, which currently happens to be with me. I rented it for my visiting parents-in-law. I'll return it to MGM later this week. 

    Are you well up with your Urdu? Could you say what "aagaz-e-tarab" means? Could you please help with the translation? Did Faiz Ahmad Faiz not move from Bhopal to Lahore? (I ask because the movie has him die in Bhopal.) Was he not a prominent communist? Was he not always hounded by the governments of India and Pakistan because of that? Was he not a kind and gentle person who shared everything he had with the poor? Do you know where I could find some biographical data on him? 

    Also, by the way, do you know a good teach-yourself book on Urdu for someone who knows only English? I know that the Urdu Majlis of Lahore has published a wonderful book which I borrowed a few times from the Washington University libraries in St. Louis. Sadly, I didn't save any other citation or ordering information. 

    Pardon this blizzard of questions. 

Regards,
Arun 

Date: 11/18/96
To: Kumar, Arun
From: Qadeer Qureshi 

    Thanks for your quick response. Between you and me, I have stopped going to MGM because of some unpleasant incidents (Notice the 's' at the end!) with the owner. However, for this movie, I may have to go there anyway. 

    I must say that being from Pakistan, I am reasonably well versed with Urdu. "Aghaz-e-tarab" means beginning of happiness (literal meaning), or beginning of celebration. Unfortunately, I don't have the poem in front of me right now, so I can't help you with the translation. If you can send me the poem again, I will try to take a stab at it. 

    I don't know that Faiz was ever at Bhopal. He was born in Sialkot (Pakistan), and spent most of his life in Amritsar and Lahore (except, of course, the time when he was under a self imposed exile), and died in Lahore. The movie may have shown him to be in Bhopal because it may have been more practical from a logistical stand point. Faiz was a certified communist, and because of that, he was always hounded by the pre-partition government of India as well as the government of Pakistan. But he was more directly involved with terrorist activities against the British government (as his memoirs indicate), and was implicated (God only knows whether it was a witch hunt or not) in the murder of Liaqat Ali Khan (the then prime minister of Pakistan). 

    Although he was widely recognized as being extremely kind and gentle person, I don't know whether the stories about sharing everything with the poor is correct. He was a reasonably well off person, and with the kind of poverty we have in the subcontinent, he could not have maintained the living standard if he was that 'diyaloo'. 

    Unfortunately, I am not familiar with any teach-yourself books about Urdu. The reason is obvious: I never needed it :-). But the UT library has a very good collection of South Asian books, which includes a number of books in Urdu, and about Urdu. I am sure you will be able to find such a book there. Also, the UT also has a service where you can request the purchase of some books, if you are able to convince them that (at least) some students might benefit from it. 

    Lastly, feel free to ask me any question about Urdu. I don't promise a prompt reply (or a reply, period), but I will try my best, time permitting, to help you out. 

Re: Muhafiz
Qadeer, 

    Thanks much for "aghaz-e-tarab" and for the biographical information on Faiz Ahmad Faiz. I would like to ask your help with Urdu from time to time, without taking up too much of your time. The words of the first song in Muhafiz, and my transliteration, follow. I'm very eager to find out how close or how far I was. 

    By "ulfat" I understand "desire". Is that correct? 

    Here are the words:

Aaj ik harph ko phir dhoondta phirta hai khayal
Mud bhara harph koi, jahar bhara harph koi
Dil-nashin harph koi, kahar bhara harph koi
Aaj ik harph ko phir dhoondta phirta hai khayal 

Harph-e-ulfat koi dildar-e-nazar ho jaise
Jis-se milti hai nazar bosae-lub ki surat
Itna roshan ki sare-mauza-e-zar ho jaise
Sohbat-e-yaar me aghaz-e-tarab ki surat
Harph-e-nafrat koi shamsheer-e-gazab ho jaise
Aaj ik harph ko phir dhoondta phirta hai khayal.

Today once again in my mind I look for the right words
Words soaked in wine,
Words dripping venom,
Words that comfort my heart,
Or those that portend disaster.

I look for a word like another might look for his love
Hoping to meet her glance for a moment
A glance that would be like a full kiss on her mouth
A look as radiant as a speck of dust floating in the breeze
In the company of my love, in anticipation of the moment of happiness,
Could a word crop up that cuts like a terrible sword
Again today in my mind I look for a word.

Date: 11/19/96
To: Kumar, Arun
From: Qadeer Qureshi 

Arun, you shouldn't think that you don't know Urdu. Your translation is much better than what I could have done myself. Ulfat means love, but can be broadly used to mean desire (in the context of desire for the beloved) also. 

Qadeer

Qadeer, 

    Thank you for your comments. I'm glad to learn that Urdu isn't entirely lost to me. I spent a lot of my childhood in old Delhi, at my grandmother's house, near Chandni Chowk, the avenue that unfurls from the Red Fort. And, while I never did learn to read or write Urdu, the language is not foreign to my ears. In those days, much more so than today, the hindu and the muslim communities in that area were very close to each other. While I grew up in a hindu home, ch-cha Hafiz and ch-cha Muhammed and their large families were just as dear to me, and their beautiful homes as open and inviting, as those of chacha Om and chacha Shree. Ch-cha Hafiz, incidentally, used to publish a Urdu weekly called Shama. That was his consuming passion, and he would come and spend hours shooting bull with my granduncle, who was more at home with Persian and Urdu than with Hindi, and was also a regular contributor to Shama. I believe that Shama is still extant. When they were deep in conversation they would shoo away us little fellows, even give us a little money to go buy some sweets, anything to not have us hang around and interrupt their conversation. 

    Ch-cha Muhammed's oldest daughter, Shahnaz, was one my first great but secret loves --- you know how little children have these secret passions. She was extremely beautiful, not in any overt movie or magazine-ad sort of way, but in some very simple and straightforward way that I cannot quite describe. Very gentle, very shy, and never spoke above a whisper. I could watch her for hours at a time, discreetly, from a distance, and always my heart would ache because she was so much older. Whenever I spoke to her I would blush, and she would too. I was also very much in love with chacha Shree's daughter, but that wasn't anything like my feelings for Shahnaz. It's a wonder how clearly I can see that place and those people in my mind's eye, despite all these years!

    It never did seem strange then, but I remember now with a little surprise, how the muslim men were always ch-cha, the muslim women always ch-chi, while the hindus were always chacha and chaachi. It was something that all us little fellows did automatically and unconsciously. 

    Ghalib had lived and composed his poetry no more than a fifteen minute walk from the house my grandmother lived in. The proximity of that area to the seat of Mugal power had left it with a surfeit of courtly culture. Manners were elaborate, courtesy was real, and there was always plenty of poetry and literature. That era has sadly passed. 

    Thank you again for your help, and I would very much like to take the liberty of addressing a few Urdu questions to you from time to time. 

Regards,
Arun

Date: 11/20/96
To: Kumar, Arun
From: Qadeer Qureshi 

Arun, thanks for your refreshing response. I have always considered people who are born and raised in historical places fortunate (although very few of them actually realize that). I myself was born in Rawalpindi, which, although not a new city, does not have the kind of cultural heritage that Lahore, Delhi or Lucknow do. We moved to Lahore when I was in my late teens, and I immediately recognized certain affinity with the city. 

    As I said, I consider people like you to be fortunate to have been raised in the streets that Ghalib, Momin, Dagh, Zoq, and not to mention, the mughal emperors used to walk in. It is one of my dreams to be able to visit Delhi and visit these places. I am especially fond of Ghalib. I think he was a genius, and the most important literary figures of the 19th century eastern world. Very few people recognize the genius of Ghalib, although many people know him as a great poet. He, in fact, was a lot more than a mere poet. He was also a philosopher, a humanist, a sufi, and an excellent prose writer. 

    One of the reasons I like Ghalib is because he considers human beings to be a lot more than Hindus, Muslims, or Sikhs. They are worth the respect not because they happen to subscribe to the same mythology as you do, but in spite of that. It is a sad affair that this aspect of Ghalib's message is totally forgotten these days. It is encouraging that there are people like you who still seem to see things with a human perspective. The hatred that exists between Hindus and Muslims today is relatively new, and I blame only the 20th century politicians (both from Muslim League and Congress) for this. You may disagree with me on this, but I am convinced that the blame lies equally on the leaders of Muslim League and Congress for this state of affairs. 

    I have seen a few issues of Shama a long time ago, and I must say that I don't really remember the content at all. It is funny though, that many more people know of Shama, the movie magazine, than Shama, the literary magazine. 

    Once again, thanks for your refreshing and candid response. 

Qadeer

Topic: RE: Muhafiz
Sent: 1/7/97
To: Qadeer Qureshi
From: Kumar, Arun Qadeer, 

    My wife and I have a new baby, Anant Krishna, that arrived late November. That, the holidays, my daughter Annandita's winter break, my in-laws visiting from India, and extensive traveling to the west coast kept me too busy to write you a reply I had intended, until now. 

    I too think it a great privilege to grow up in a historical place. Childhood does not much care for history and context, I believe, but childhood surroundings do leave a lifelong impression, and yearnings that are perhaps never fulfilled. I am hardly familiar with the work of Momin, Dagh, and Zauq, though I have surely walked the ground they trod, and that is my misfortune entirely; but Ghalib's poetry is so popular and familiar, and his legend so much a part of the zameen and zameer of Delhi, that nobody will ever think of Delhi without her Ghalib. 

    About the rise of religious intolerance, I think --- at least I hope --- that there are many more of us than there is of them. Intolerance does speak with a louder voice. That is all too evident in forums like soc.culture.indian. I think also that the voices of sanity and reason need to check the invective more often that they do, so that the dominant tone is more representative than it sometimes appears to be. 

    About the creation of Pakistan, I believe that the defining character of a nation state should be inclusive rather than exclusive. Religion, ethnicity, and such other distinctions, are exclusive and divisive, therefore inappropriate. The creation of Pakistan was a tragic event. Too many people died, too many were uprooted. The creation of Pakistan, I would further argue, did a great disservice to the Islamic peoples of the Indian subcontinent, even as it masqueraded as a signal Islamic event. It left the 200 million Muslims of India open to the sort of rhetoric fielded by the right-wing Hindus: "They have their Pakistan. Let them go there." 

    This is false logic of course. People belong where they belong, and no one has a right to uproot us or harass us because of religion or skin-color or whatever. India is so much richer because it is not Hindu alone. What would we do without our Ghalibs, our Shabana Azmis, our Amjad Ali Khans? The India of the Hindu right will be a kabaristan. 

    Be that as it may, Pakistan is accomplished history. All we can hope for now is peace between the two peoples. We have so much to gain from friendship, and so much to lose from hatred, that there seems to be very little choice --- if reason will prevail. 

    Naya saal mubarak. 

Arun 

Arun, 

    thanks for your email, and a very happy new year. Also, congratulations on the new addition to your family. I hope your holidays were very exciting and enjoyable. 

    In my opinion, religion (or at least the intolerant interpretation of religion being practiced in the world today) has done tremendous harm to humanity. In particular, in countries like India and Pakistan (where the literacy rate is low, and people are unreasonably emotional about religious issues), religion had kept us wrapped in the folds of ignorance (which, by no means, is bliss). I have very little exposure to Indian culture (outside of Indian movies) and most of the media coverage I have seen (both in Pakistan as well as in the US) about India is mostly negative. So I can't really say what the actual state of affairs is in India. But, I have the first hand experience of religious intolerance in Pakistan. A glaring and shameful example of this intolerance is the way we as a nation have treated late Dr. Abdussalaam, the greatest scholar and scientist (in my opinion) that we have ever produced. We refused to acknowledge him as a Muslim and a Pakistani, just because he was a Qadiani (a Muslim sect whose followers are considered non-Muslims by the followers of the mainstream sects). 

    I think it was this inherent intolerance that created fear in the minds of more forward looking Muslim leaders that a reciprocal intolerance will be exhibited by Hindu majority after the Britishers leave India. And it was this fear that prompted Muslim leaders to ask for a separate country. With hind sight, I am absolutely convinced that Hindus and Muslims could have worked their problems out, had sanity prevailed in both Hindu and Muslim political circles. I am also convinced, that as late as early 40's, most of the Muslims in India did not think of Hindus as a threat (in a political sense). Whatever happened to change this situation, happened only in a few years. Birtishers had little interest in getting the problem fixed. 

    I also believe that most of the political leaders, in both camps, were basically honest and believed that they were doing what was best for their people. I do not subscribe to the theory that Jinnah was a British puppet, out to destroy Hindus (as many Indians believe today). By the same token, I do not believe that Gandhi/Nehroo were British agents, bent to inflict as much damage to Muslims as they could (as many Pakistanis think today). I think that these leaders had an honest difference of opinion. But I also think that (at least) leaders of the Muslim League did not have the foresight to comprehend the far reaching implications of having a separate country for the Muslims. 

    I have rambled for a long time, so let me stop by saying that I hope that sanity will prevail in the end. With education, and with more communications, people in both India and Pakistan will realize that we have to live together. It will be to our mutual advantage to live in peace. 

    Thanks for reading this boring lecture! 

Qadeer