EYE CULTURE

Deep jiska mahallat hi mein jale, Chand logon ki khushiyon ko lay kar chalay, Wo jo saaye main har maslihat kay palay; Aisay dastoor ko, subh-e-be-noor ko, Main nahin maanta, main nahin jaanta. [Where light only shines in palaces; That which only seeks to serve a few, That which prospers from compromises, Such a norm, such a dawn bereft of light, I do not accept, I do not acknowledge]

Obviously, this is not Karl Marx, although, given his strident aversion to inequality, he might as well have written these lines had he known the Urdu language. This is part of a very famous (at least in Pakistan) poem titled Dastoor by Habib Jalib, who is also known as the shayar-e-awaam, or the people’s poet. It isn’t just the bold rebellious words why this poem matters; more crucial was the timing. Jalib wrote this in 1962, deep into General Ayub Khan’s dictatorship, and in a year when he was imposing a new constitution in Pakistan, which gave the president sweeping powers. Jalib’s words gave vent to the Pakistani people’s deep resentment that the government was only concerned with the welfare of just a few elite families while the rest of the country faced abject poverty. In another verse of the same poem, Jalib hit out at the government's propaganda of all round well-being used to delude people into believing that things were getting better. Phool shaakhon pay khilnay lagay, tum kaho; Jaam rindon ko milnay lagay, tum kaho; Chaak seenon kay silnay lagay, tum kaho; Iss khulay jhoot ko, zehan ki loot ko, Main nahin maanta, main nahin jaanta. [You say, the flowers are blossoming; You say, the cups are overflowing; You say, wounds are being healed; Such outright lies, such insults of intellect, I do not accept, I do not acknowledge]

In another outstanding gem, Musheer (an advisor), Jalib poked fun of those advisors of General Ayub who spared no elbow grease in building up the dictator’s image. Musheer, though equally bold as Dastoor was less rebellious and more sarcastic. In it, Jalib lashed out at the people who, instead of being the conscience of society, kept quiet and allowed the country to become a virtual detention centre. Jin ko tha zaban pe naaz Chup hain wo zaban daraaz …Apne kharch par hain qaid Log tere raaj me [Those who prided themselves as speakers Stand tongue-tied today …At their own expense, people Find themselves in a prison, under your rule]

Jalib was born in 1928 in Hoshiyarpur in British India. During Partition, he migrated to Pakistan and worked for a newspaper Daily Imroz. As a poet he came into his own almost as a reaction to Pakistan’s slide into dictatorship. His lonely vigil against authoritarianism wasn’t just during General Ayub’s tenure. He was equally scathing during the other military dictator, Zia-ul Haq's tenure. He was none too happy about the government apathy even during Pakistan’s stints under democracy. But Jalib stubbornly resisted any help from the establishment. Once, during illness, he reportedly rebuffed former prime minister Benazir Bhutto’s help stating “Can't you see the rest of patients in the ward?”

Predictably, Jalib spent a lot of years behind bars. But he was undeterred in taking on the establishment. According to one anecdote, the jail warden chided Jalib by holding back his access to pen and paper. Jalib reportedly shot back, “I will recite my poem to your guard, he will recite it in the town square, and so it will reach Lahore.”

Being hailed as the people’s poet, however, did not mean Jalib shied away from speaking the truth about them. In Musheer he states: Main usse yeh kaha, ye jo das crore hain, Jahl ka nichod hain, Inki fikr so gayi, Har umeed ki kiran, zulmaton me kho gai [I told him(the advisor), these 100 million people; Are distilled from ignorance, they do not care; All hope is lost in this darkness]

Possibly because he fought for the rights of the common people, highlighting the sickening inequality in society, Jalib is often portrayed as a Marxist. To be sure, he was a member of the Communist Party of Pakistan. But it would appear, what he fought against was the absolute perversion of what Marx suggested as the eventual solution. Jalib spent his whole life either resisting dictators, who centralised all powers unto themselves, or demanding greater accountability from the democratically elected governments whom he found to be equally unconcerned about the plight of the common people.

Many of Jalib’s words resonate even in India — even in today’s India, where democratically elected leaders pass diktats on what we should eat, if we should drink, and with complete impunity assert that even our own bodies are not completely our own. It is, as Jalib said, a prison we have paid for, it seems.

Jalib then wasn’t a Marxist, or a rebel or even a poet. He was a humanist as the following couplet shows. Jo sadayain sun raha hun, mujhe bus unnhi ka ghum hai Tumhain sher ki padi hai, mujhe aadmi ka ghum hai [The cries I hear, are what I am concerned with: You fret over a couplet, I despair for the people]