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ISBN: 978-969-696-992-1 (PRINT)
ISBN: 978-969-696-993-8 (EBOOK)

Foreword

(July, 1985)

I am nearer seventy than sixty. Yet, at this ripe age, I am coming out with poetry, at places, tasting of the lyric. This needs some explanation. I have had this predilection for poetry from my very boyhood. Exposure to English poetry through Tipping’s primers started me on this road. Small anthologies and later, translations of Arabic poetry to English kept me going on till I completed my education. Serious business of life weaned me away from it for nearly a quarter of a century. A personal tragedy led me to translate into English, classical style verses of the well known Punjabi mystic master poet Sultan Bahoo of the seventeenth century. This sustained me in long hours of grief. Alongside, now and then, poured out words of sorrow, which formed themselves into verses in classical style or poems in free, blank verse or prose, as they liked. My link with literature had been cut off twenty-five years earlier. I honestly did not know whether these self-expressions conformed to the current form and idiom of English poetry. But I let them be. I set them apart.

Then came exposure to the West, the most western of the West. There was this completely different environment and there was my conservative upbringing plus my grief plus my compunctions. The impact resulted in some romantic verse, even though I became more withdrawn than I was in my own society. Hence, whatever I observed or whatever touched me in any manner, found expression in whatever form it liked. This is true of all my travels abroad - as well as at home. Later, observations took the place of lyric. Then came a nagging illness followed by surgery reflected in poems written in hospitals, the longest one after a sextuple bypass of my heart. Some more poems followed, but the fire seemed to have been reduced to cinders - mostly because, to my disbelief the world went its own way and, therefore, I thought there was no course except I go mine. And that is what I did to myself.

But these expressions or effusions - they had piled up over another quarter of a century. They beckoned me from time to time to ask whether they too will remain in their seclusion or breathe fresh air ever. So I decided to arrange them year wise - which could be the only natural order, and took them to Ikram Azam. I told him: These are “Poems for You” (referring to his tiny little book “Flowers for You”) to whet or whatever you like to do with them. He made and suggested changes, but avoided comment, this way or that. Before this, I had written to my pen-friend of twenty-five years, Marie Myers of South Pasadena (LA, USA), a devoted editor of literary works and natural poetess. About her poetry she wrote in January, 1985:

“I write the way I feel the words should be strung together, like a rosary. For yes, words in my poems count the prayers I have lived in love and life, unrestricted by convention so is my poetic output unrestricted by any literary convention except that which I dictate.”

A quarter of a century after our pen-friendship, I sent her my poems for polishing. A few changes of words were suggested here and there. She summed up:

“I think your poetry bespeaks a poetic soul as well as a soulful poet. Your philosophy shines through, and you are able to capture beauty as you see it.”

She expressed eagerness to go through my outpourings. Like one of my grandsons who has started school recently, I can proudly parade the stars awarded to me by Marye. This has been an act of ample reassurance for something the ink of which otherwise may have dimmed with time to illegibility. My deep-felt thanks, therefore, to Ikram and to Marye.

As for the need for this publication, which could be labelled as personal, I have to own that many pieces are personal, but is not the person of a person also the universal person? My griefs and sorrows, my predicaments, my appreciations, my longings, my observations, my feelings, views, apathies, sympathies, empathies, my expressions may also have been experienced by many a person in this wide, wide world. They may like the way I have looked at human and natural beauty and the words I have used to express such appreciation. The English-speaking world may appreciate the eastern form and rhythm, which surely is noticeable in some of the pieces. Their hearts may beat with mine along with my words and rhythm. Is that not something for me, something for them?

(September, 1992)

This compilation could not go into print mostly because of my hesitation and my own reclusive ways. Then the Margalla Voices drew me into its fold. I took courage to recite old pieces as well as compose new ones, even though it meant one piece a month or even more infrequently. But I was on the move, thankfully.

I arranged my compositions year-wise. That is significant for me in more than one way. The time and place serve as reminders to me of incidents in my life, in the life of my country, on the horizon of the world. These may offer a peep into my heart and mind also. Some of these appeared in the weekly Islamic Times of Islamabad under the appreciative and vigilant eye of the late Maulvi Muhammad Saeed, a veteran editor.

These compilations, whatever their quality, may yet have remained scattered, neglected, and hand-written, but for the remarkable determination shown by my youngest child, my daughter, Onaiza. She, it was who, despite my indifference and disorderly habits, fished out every bit and piece, arranged them date-wise, typed and re-typed, and corrected them many times over, divided them into sort of sections, and even found suitable headings for each and for the book itself, out of the compositions themselves. This shows her watchfully deep interest in my poems. This is despite her daily twenty-mile trek to her office and hours of devoted work at a computer at home. Whatever time she could snatch from her household chores in the evening, she sweetly persuaded me to sit by her side at her personal computer to cast a critical look at each replaceable word, every punctuation mark, and each vague idea, uttering in inimitable low tones her suggestions, her appreciation as we went along. But for her single-minded devotion, I would not have seen my own work in print.

I have had to get excised my rotten spleen last year. As the phrase goes in this part of the world, I should now be without any ire, for they say anger springs from the spleen. For the time being, however, ire and the poetic fire seem to be lying low within me. But who knows, there may be revival in the last final flashes!

I am nearer mid-seventies now. I hope that I shall not have to add to this introduction once again.

Forward! O Foreword!

(April, 2010)

Cross the last hurdles and touch the tape after a long race. Maybe. Maybe. There is a note of response, waiting, from a kindred hummingbird.

I have mentioned Marye Myers above. As a functionary of the International Students Association, she had arranged for my hotel accommodation in Los Angeles and my programme. She came over to brief me about my visits to places in and around Los Angeles. This was our first and last meeting in life, formal and short, on the last day of 1962. On my return to Harvard, I wrote a formal letter of thanks to her as I did to others. This was the beginning of a pen-friendship lasting for more than forty years. It ended only at her demise.

The number of my poems is twice or even more than what was received by Marye. I am grateful to my well-wisher Mr. Lutfullah Mufti who read these poems with interest and urged me to get them published. I am deeply grateful to Dr. Ikram Azam for helping me in many ways despite troubled vision. My thanks are also due to Mr. Muhammad Nadeem who typed the post-92 pieces, some of them from scribblings.

My daughter, Dr. Onaiza, found time not only to type most of the poems but very aptly finding headings for poems of various periods from my poems as well. Everyone who sees the compilation praises it and her. The credit must also be shared by my family who left me alone to follow my pursuits.

Dr. Maqbool Elahi

Preface
“Words and Vision”

Introduction

The title of my preface is the captivating caption of an engaging poem in the book of poems being referenced. It is quoted selectively below for both introduction and effect:

“I am but the miracle

of your vision

You cast your eyes on me

I come into life

You take them off

I disintegrate!”

(Words and Vision)

With this, I will reserve my bird’s eye view or aerial overview of his poetry for the later part of this Preface, to first say something about him.

The Person - Poet

Dr. Maqbool Elahi Saheb is my Murshed-Mentor: both spiritual and literary. He was once my most benevolent boss, as a civil servant for a few years in the early 1960s (1961-1964) when I was just a toddler, professionally and career-wise, and he taught me how to walk confidently. Those are unforgettable years of our “personal friendship”... which was really a resilient link in our three-generational tenacious family friendship… One could go on and on, indefinitely, but this is an introduction to his poetry, rather than his person. Yet the two are simply inseparable. Our mutual friend, Muhammad Lutfullah Mufti Saheb, is writing a Preview of this book, thus reserving the right to comment on his poetry. However, I retain the pride of privilege to see him reflected in his poetry.

My one and only comment and core point is that Dr. Saheb’s poetry is a true reflection of his personality and his life. The present volume is his magnum opus and labour of love in terms of his original verse in English. It is his poetic autobiography: the story of his soul and the legend of his life, his heart. His recurrent themes are: nature, human nature, and the human situational dilemmas: war and peace, exploitation, poverty, imperialism, colonialism, and serfdom versus freedom. Its several parts under different titles are really so many slim books of poetry… slim by choice because of his selectivity. They are arranged in chronological order, the first poem “The Walls” (Part I: Edifice of Destiny) is dated Karachi, 1955.

Many Myriads of Maqbools

Rene Guenon (Abdul Wahid Yahya: 1886-1951) wrote about human spiritualism in his learned book, “The Multiple States of being”^[1]. One is convinced by his whole work, including English verse, that Dr. Saheb has actually experienced many of these states of being during MashaAllah a long and fulfilling, noble, and exemplary life. Thus, he writes like a devout Muslim and a patriotic Pakistani, in the tradition and spirit of Pakistan’s founders, especially Allama Muhammad Iqbal and the Quaid-i-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah. All of them were Islamic Pragmatic Visionary Futurists^[2]. Dr. Maqbool Elahi is a distinguished innovative Iqbal scholar, interpreting him in the fresh new light of Islamic Futurism and Futuristics, as an Islamic Visionary Futurist[3].

Thus, Dr. Maqbool Elahi Saheb is a Sufi seer and sage, mystic and futurist, thinker, researcher, analyst, multi-linguist, translator, prose-stylist, and poet par excellence. His globe-trotting and wide and varied learning are amply reflected in his poetry. As a poet, he is sensitive, but sensibly so. He is both sympathetic and empathetic… profoundly so. His poetry is honestly subjective when he talks about issues close to his heart, like love at its sublimest and subtlest self. But this being a universal human sentiment and experience makes his poetry altruistically global. Dr. Saheb is not just a true Muslim and a loyal Pakistani… he is also, thereby, sincerely humanitarian and thus, a citizen of the world. Dr. Maqbool Elahi’s poetic style is his own. It is, above all, succinctly elliptical and epigrammatic, in the best classical Arabic and Farsi tradition, especially the elliptical and epigrammatic quality of the Holy Quran, so soulfully noted by Muhammad Asad[4]. Thus, he is true to the Urdu saying:

“Kuzay mein darya band karna”

“To collect the sea in a small container.”

His diction is crystalline and pearl-pure.

As a creative artist, poet, and linguist, Dr. Saheb is most interested in, and expressive of the innate nexus between thought, feeling and word, expression and language: their articulation for effective communication. Many of his poems are about the sensitive linguistic issue of subtle and sublime creativity. Dr. Maqbool Elahi has expressed himself most successfully in various poetic genres, including the Rubaye. But it is touchingly lyrical above all. His verse is sacred as well as secular, particularly Islamic, political, and Pakistani.

Whatever the form and expression, style, mood, or mode of his verse, Dr. Saheb’s poetry is truly experiential. Therefore, honestly, truly and sincerely, straight from his heart and soul. Thus, does it rapport touchingly with the reader’s psyche.

The Margalla Voices was born in 1976 at 6/4 Civil Lines, Rawalpindi (Cantonment). The PFI in July 1986 at 37, School/Bhitai Road, F-7/1, Islamabad.

Dr. Maqbool Elahi Saheb has been their co-founder, patron, and active participant right from their creation. Therefore, we, of the PFI and the Margalla Voices, welcome Dr. Saheb’s latest contribution to contemporary Pakistani English Literature and Culture and feel proud and privileged to publish it.

Dr. Ikram Azam

Chairman, The PFI and MVs

Dated: Tuesday, 5^th October, 2010.

Reflections

Dr. Ikram Azam’s insistence that I write ‘a few words’ left me in a dilemma. I have been trained in science, not arts, and none of us (my four siblings and I) have inherited my father’s talent for writing poetry, not even in one language, whereas Abba jan writes beautifully in five.

I have, however, often had the privilege to be the first one to read a poem written by him, and thus its first audience and critic. Reading English and Urdu poems have been relatively easy. Reading Persian, Arabic and Punjabi ones, I must admit, is quite a test for me - I am sure listening to my reading them is a greater test for him. Yet, he has always shown patience, always a great deal of encouragement. Indeed, this is a trait I much admire in him: his interest in people’s well-being, his sincere advice to them (sometimes misinterpreted due to his straightforwardness), and his genuine delight in their successes. This bespeaks a generous soul, so rare to find.

It is through his poetry over the years, some of it written before I was born, that I have come to know him better. His wide spectrum of interests and knowledge is reflected in his poems. Whether it be religion, history, current affairs, literature, sports (and many others), discussions with Abbajan are illuminating, for he has been blessed with remarkable memory and diction. My brother once observed, ‘Sometimes we do not like what he says or agree with it, but more often than not it turns out to be true.’ This can be said about his writings and poems as well.

I find his writings particularly appealing because they are a singular combination of age-old human emotions and contemporary knowledge; they reveal ‘the mind of a researcher and the soul of a poet’.

His poems reflect his remarkable journey through life. Given their depth and breadth, I am sure that people of varied backgrounds and ages will find in this collection something to identify with, something to delight in, something to dwell upon, and something to cherish…

Dr. Onaiza Maqbool

Dedication

All my Family Members,

Onaiza in Particular

Contents

Why These Diseases?. 7

Farewell! 8

Wherefrom... 9