A COMMON MAN’S PHILOSOPHER

Ali Faraz Ali

Amongst a large number of Wasif Ali Wasif’s readers, a very few, in spite of their wish, ever met him personally. He never went to any public gathering and seldom invited anyone home. He once said, “I feel the best in solitude. I tolerate meetings.” Even in a gathering he could be witnessed enjoying solitude; he was so much given to silence. He spent most part of the day in this tranquillity, but when he spoke there was nothing that was not quotable. His written and spoken words are quotable for their content as well as their construction. Master of aphorism, he has almost a miraculous ability to capture a rainbow of meaning in a few dewdrops of well chosen words. Consider these, for example:

• Life is not only Newton, it is also Milton.
• Fortunate is the one who is pleased with his Fortunes.
• History gets changed with change of historians.
• Islam is there to save the Muslims and not vice versa.
• One who has no beloved in the country can never love the country.
• The sage who fulfils the desires is someone else and the one who rids of all the desires is someone else.
• The most lovable person is the one on seeing whom the heart cries out, “I have seen this person before.”
• Democracy is the name of the period between two martial laws.

Though translation from the original Urdu text certainly reduces the literary beauty and flow of the words quoted above but still they show in their terseness the quality of his thought and diction.

Of the people who knew him in his lifetime, no one could claim to have known him fully or for that matter intimately. He once said, “ There has been no one who ever called me by my first name only.” His personality was enigmatic, shrouded in opaque curtains of self denial, someone who had always tried to hide himself deliberately from the admirer’s eye. In the last ten years, following his demise, four books and numerous articles have been written on his life and work but his true person remains ever elusive. The most appropriate introduction to his personality would always be his own writings. Going through his biographies, a reader who has seen him too, is perplexed at the haze, an attempt to elaborate can produce. The meanings of his own sayings become dramatically sharp and clear at this stage. “Words tend to camouflage the reality.” He believed that the best communication takes place without words. The few people who have sat with him quietly for a while can never come out of the charisma of silence through out their lives. The only irony is that they cannot express it. Again using his own words: “Reality is like the dream of the dumb.”

The critics and writers who have tried studying his life have found themselves in a blind alley. He study mathematics at the master’s level, taught English for twenty two years and wrote in Urdu. Of this it were writings in newspaper that secured him a permanent place in the gallery of stylist prose writers. Though his main claim to fame is his writings, a select circle knows that he was an equally great a conversationalist. A majority of his most ardent fans comprises the people who were spellbound by his spoken word. Mujeeb-ur-Rehman Shami once observed, “I have experienced the immense power of words in my sitting with him as nowhere else.” Similarly Hanif Ramay is of the view that “Wasif’s prose influences like the poetry of Iqbal.”

Wasif’s prose is en example of what is known in Urdu literature as Sehl-e-Mumtannay, something that is apparently simple but has a latent cascade of captivating connotations; and trying to replicate the feat is not simple at all. Consider this, “We desire the life of Pharaoh and the afterlife of Moses.” Words that are used for their second value constitute the rare quality of Wasif’s prose that is the hidden music. Closest parallel of this prose can be drawn with the writings of Muhammad Hussain Azad, especially his masterpiece Aab-e-Hayat. The critics called it the poetic prose and it has never been replicated by any writer ever since. Wasif Ali’s prose is simpler, using figures of speech less frequently and thus sounds more natural but it has distinctive qualities of fine poetry. At times, words are rhymed together at the end of two sentences or words of similar sounds are used consecutively in a sentence.

For an objective literary overview, the mystical facet of the writer’s personality has to be overlooked for a while. Maulana Jalal-ud-din Roomi is one of the classic masters of Persian poetry and should be evaluated irrespective of his saintly reverence; at the same time it would be a mistake to brush his spiritual contribution aside because his foremost identity was of a mentor in his times. This phenomenon is no coincidence. Mystic experience which is nothing other than the experience of love at its extremes gives the saltish sweetness to the words that is characteristic of the Kalam of all the Sufis. It might be pertinent to note that with millions of copies of his book sold, Roomi is the most popular poet in USA since the event of 9/11. As a matter of historical recurrence from Wali Dakkani (the first renowned Urdu poet) to Iqbal, the best of Urdu literature has been intrinsically inspired by the mystic tradition.

Ashfaq Ahmad, the conversationalist par excellence of our time has said, “The sentences we concoct are our piece of craft, Wasif’s lines came from somewhere else.” Another famous writer said that Wasif’s words had the unique potential of transforming a person at the unconscious level.

Defining his ideals, Wasif once wrote, “The best literary creation is the one that has fewer words and maximum meanings.” He adhered to his stated standards fully. His written or spoken sentences cannot be abridged; removing a single word would render the sentence meaningless while altering a word would distort the literary beauty and the underlying rhythm.

Though his first book Shab Chiragh was a collection of poetry, his claim to fame has come through his prose. Another interesting aspect of his literary masterpieces is that these originally appeared as columns in an Urdu daily defying the strongly held belief that journalism cannot produce pure literature which can have a long life. Late Siraj Muneer wrote, “we took them as columns but they were another aalam (world).”

Among his most popular book of prose are Kiran Kiran Sooraj, Dil Darya Samander, Harf Harf Haqeeqat and Qatra Qatra Qulzam. Two of his books including the Punjabi poetry Bharay Bharolay were published posthumously. The books containing his own writings have been surpassed in number by the eleven volumes comprising his transcribed conversation all of which are published posthumously. A number of intricate issues facing an ordinary man especially those encountered by a seeker of truth have been discussed in these conservations. Down to earth simplicity, time old wisdom, sharp wit and a touch of nurturing love constitute these recordings. Few original thinkers have expressed so lofty thoughts in so simple a style. He is as such a common man’s philosopher.

A discussion of his peculiar style would be incomplete without mentioning that all his writings have a lot between the lines too. He believed that a thought can never be expressed fully in words, a reader should be alive to this fact and should try comprehending the portion that was impossible to be carried in words.

Above all, it is the openness of his prose that will keep it evergreen. Comprehension of one reader will different from that of another, every individual will relate the message to his specific circumstances and mental approach. Some readers believe that understand Wasif as no one else, many others believe this but about themselves. Since his demise his readership is increasing with every passing year, typical of his personality that preferred obscurity in his own lifetime.