Josh Malihabadi: A Flawed Genius
By Dr Asif Javed
US
“I am a poet, lover, seeker of knowledge and a friend of humanity,” writes Josh of himself in his autobiography, “Yadoon ki barat”.
In his memoirs, he went to extraordinary lengths to bare it all: he fondly recalls his love affairs (18 to be exact), his upbringing in Lucknow, education at home and Agra, an ill-fated short stay in Aligarh University and his family with all their glamour and eccentricities (his grandfather had 30 wives and concubines, fathered around 120 children, all except one of whom remained illiterate. He hardly ever spent a night without a female companion and died of syphilis at 88). Yadoon ki barat is a remarkably candid account of the tumultuous but exciting life of a man who rubbed shoulders with literary giants and saw history being made around him.
Josh was born in great affluence in a conservative family of Afridi Pathans in Malihabad, near Lucknow in 1903. His father was a poet of considerable merit and it was with him that Josh started to go to literary gatherings. In his autobiography, Josh recalls his first recital in a mushaira where his poem received more applause than his father’s. With tongue in cheek, he writes of his father’s admonishment for having surpassed him. There was no looking back for the young poet who was to write awe-inspiring poetry and has been considered by many to be one of the finest of his generation.
Josh made some interesting observations of his contemporaries: Faiz wrote good poetry but spoiled it by poor recital; Iqbal was a genius but borrowed his idea of shaheen from Nietzsche; Majaz took 75%of his poetry to grave because of early death, otherwise he may have surpassed everyone else; Faraq was a jewel in the crown of Urdu poetry but remained unappreciated in India; Mustafa Zaidi’s poetry was modern, graceful and unique; others receive scathing remarks: Hafiz Jalandheri was an intellectual dwarf and Faraz immature.
Josh had the opportunity to spend six months with Tagor at his school, Shanti Nakatan. He found Tagore larger than life, sensitive, frank and fond of beauty but somewhat of an exhibitionist.
Nehru was perhaps Josh’s ideal. Josh considered him a man who is born once in a century, a thorough gentleman, a shining star and his benefactor who shared Josh’s love of Urdu. Josh recalls a conversation when Nehru lamented the threat to Urdu in India. “I favor Urdu but my hands are tied since majority of my party favors Hindi,” Nehru is reported to have said. Josh’s decision to immigrate to Pakistan was painful to Nehru; having failed to dissuade Josh, Nehru conceded that the “narrow-minded patriotism of Hindu was a real threat to Urdu in India.” Some time later, Nehru toured Pakistan, clad in a sherwani and was amazed at having been received by Pakistani officials and dignitaries mostly in western attire. Nehru was given the welcome address in English. Being fluent in Urdu, Nehru put his hosts to shame by giving his response in Urdu.
Josh was obsessed with language and spared no one for a mistake. After all Mirza Hadi Ruswa, famed author of Umrao Jan Ada, had been one of his teachers. Famous journalist and writer Hamid Akhtar reports Sahir Ludhianwi being publicly admonished by Josh in a literary gathering for having mispronounced one word in his poem, Tajmahal. On another occasion, Josh went looking for a magnifying glass in a Bombay market, kept asking for mukabbar-ul-wujh and returned home without one. It seems, none of the shopkeepers understood this Urdu word and Josh refused to compromise on his beloved Urdu. Hamid Akhtar also saw actor Prithwi Raj Kapoor, then in his prime, advising young actors to read Josh to improve their language skills. With some amusement, Josh narrates a visit to Nehru when he presented to him a book. Nehru thanked him by saying,”Main ap ka mushkoor hoon”. Josh corrected him on the spot, “Should have said, Shakir hoon.”
Josh was a prolific writer; he had 24 books of poetry published in his life time while another seven or so never saw the light of the day. Josh wrote often against the British and was proclaimed Shaer-e-inqalab. He befriended Jawar Lal Nehru, Maulana Azad, RN Tagore and Sarojni Naidu and was greatly respected by the leadership of the Congress for having written against the British when some of his contemporaries like Faiz and Hafiz Jallandhri — later to write Pakistan’s national anthem -- were serving in the British Army.
Despite his undeserved reputation for bluntness, Josh was by nature, a simple almost naïve kind of person. As the story goes, a distressed former Raja of a princely state needed some of his property restored to him by the Indian government. He approached Josh and gave him the keys of a new car. Josh called on PM Nehru and broached the subject. Nerhu directed Josh to the interior minister, Sardar Patel. Having thought over it, Josh said: “I have no desire to see that man (Patel) with the criminal face and by the way, what am I supposed to do with the car keys”. An exasperated Nehru, having understood his poet friend’s dilemma, ended up by calling Patel himself, and the issue was resolved.
Josh was sensitive as well as uncompromising and suffered as a result. After his immigration to Pakistan, his well-wishers, including government officials, made numerous attempts to produce a steady source of income for him; they all failed.
Here is a hilarious example: Josh was once given the allotment papers for a residential plot by a government official but tore it to pieces incensed that the official did not stand up as Josh departed. An ill-fated interview that was recorded to be broadcasted posthumously was hacked from Radio Pakistan and used by the hostile right wing media to relentlessly hound him for the rest of his life. Financial worries, barrage of criticism and prohibition of alcohol made life very difficult for Josh whose drinking had become the stuff of legends — he once described it as “I begin to rise as the sun sets in,” a reference to his drinking that would start precisely at sunset.
Those who visited Josh in his last days saw a sad, forlorn figure slowly fading away, having been disowned by his adopted country. Josh once wrote
Adab kar us kharabati ka, jis ko Josh kahtay hain
Ke wo apnee sadee ka Hafiz-o-Khayyam hai saqee
Little did he realize that he will be lowered to his grave by only a few and will be quickly forgotten. He lies buried in a simple grave in Islamabad with hardly any mention of him on his anniversaries; strange indeed are the ways of our nation.
(The author can be reached at asifjaved@comcast.net)
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