Are fine arts on way to extinction?

By Afzal Hussain Bokhari

Literary, educational and cultural circles in City felt immensely saddened by the death of eminent poet and scholar Abdul Aziz Khalid who passed away at the age of 83 on January 28, 2010 in Lahore's posh Defence Housing Society. Prominent men of letters converged on his residence at 67-U to offer their condolences. The 'Qul' ritual was also largely attended in Jamia Masjid Allah-o-Akbar in DHS's Phase I.

Religious circles in the country took notice of his contribution to Islam when the Lahore-based monthly magazine 'Qaumi Digest' started serialising his versified Urdu translation of the holy Quran under the title 'Furqan-i-Javeed'. Again, when the same magazine published its special issue on Hazrat Ali (AS), it carried a long religious poem (manqabat) by Khalid containing 313 verses.

In December 1950, he cleared the civil service competitive examination and was appointed as income tax officer. He retired as commissioner IT on January 13, 1987. Having a full command over and a deep knowledge of Arabic language, his highly Arabicised, obtuse Urdu poetry was not every body's cup of tea. It was very rare that he appeared in popular mushaira sessions but whenever he did, his difficult and outlandish diction left the audience high, dry and cold.

During an All Pakistan Writers' Conference in Islamabad in the days of General Ziaul Haq, a fellow writer borrowed a pen from Khalid to note down a phone number. The fellow writer rubbed the pen on a piece of paper for a while but it did not work. Humourist Syed Zamir Jafari, who stood by watching quietly, commented satirically: "In ka qalam salees Urdu nahi likhta!" (His pen would not write plain Urdu).

The first book of criticism on Khalid's art and life titled 'Mohimaat-i-Khalid' was written by Kamil-ul-Qadiri. Later, monthly magazines 'Fanoos', 'Sayyara' and 'Tehreerain' brought out in three volumes special issues on Khalid. Two research papers at the MA level were written on Khalid's art of 'Naat Nigari' and 'Manzoom Drama Nigari' in Punjab University's Oriental College in Lahore.

Commenting on his death, critic Nasir Abbas Nayyar said that Khalid rediscovered the lost links between Urdu and the Arabic literatures especially at a time when the Western influences had inundated the creative writings on the Indo-Pak subcontinent.

Research writers may be interested in knowing that Khalid was born on January 14, 1927 into the home of schoolteacher Shah Mohammad in village Parjiyan Kalan in tehsil Nakodar of Jalandhar district, East Punjab. In 1944, he obtained second position throughout Punjab in the matriculation exam. He passed his FA exam in 1946 from Islamia College, Lahore.

The same year when the Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah visited the college and noticed Khalid receiving most prizes, he said: "My child, leave some prizes for others as well". In 1947, when his family switched over to Pakistan, they settled in Jhang. At one place, while recalling the memories of his native village, he wrote: "Kalan Parjiyan ki sohani faza'on ko chora; tu ankhon se ashkon ka sailab thamta na tha".

After doing his BA in 1948, Khalid continued to study in Islamia College where he did his Master's in Economics in 1950. As long as his studies lasted, he additionally worked as editor of the college magazine 'Crescent'. His college friends included Nasir Kazmi, Jeelani Kamran and Irshad Ahmad Haqqani. Khalid benefited from the presence of teachers such as Professor Ilmuddin Salik, Professor Hameed Ahmad Khan and Rafiq Khawar. While reciting his national poems in the meetings of the Anjuman-i-Himayat-i-Islam, he won the Allama Iqbal gold medal for poetry.

Paying tribute to his art, writer Amjad Islam Amjad said that he started taking interest in his poetry after reading Khalid's poem "Wida-i-rang ka manzar kisi ne dekha hai?" The poem was written on the death of the Painter of the East, Abdur Rehman Chughtai.

When we talk of painting in Peshawar, the name that immediately comes to mind is that of Gulgee. Like Gulgee, Peshawar has produced other great men that won fame in various walks of life. These men included Zulfikar Ali Bokhari, Ahmad Shah (Patras) Bokhari, Raj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar, Madhu Bala and many others.

Up to 1977, Peshawar had been a place where the fine arts flourished and the residents were no longer entertainment-starved. Peshawar had 15 cinemas, which screened popular Urdu, Pushto and English films. Heads of families took out children to watch a new film in one of the local cinemas. The environment in cinemas was tolerable enough to allow the family members to sit in the medley crowd for three hours.

But things appear to have radically changed. Whether we like it or not, cinemas have become synonymous with vulgarity, obscenity and pornography. No responsible citizen today will probably allow his son to hang around a cinema for so much as having a quick look at the posters of a forthcoming film.

At least three to five cinemas have willingly contributed to the gradual pollution, distortion and even destruction of the City's culture. By continuously screening third-rate movies, liberally interspersed with pornographic clippings, they have shooed away the educated and sophisticated cinema lovers.

The result is that while in Islamabad, Lahore and Karachi multiplexes are emerging to win back the cinema audience, entrepreneurs in Peshawar are having second thoughts about investing money in the field of entertainment. Indeed, five cinemas - including Falak Sair, Metro and Ishrat - have been turned into shopping plazas.

Owners of the remaining 10 cinemas are not happy with the output. The provincial government has withdrawn the entertainment tax but still running a cinema is considered to be a losing proposition. The arrival of cable television has driven the last nail into the coffin silver screen. An average Pushto film can be completed at a cost of Rs6.5 to 8.5 million.

However, very few cinemas even in NWFP are prepared to buy the film and screen them in their theatres. The result is that the producers feel compelled to give away the reels to Afghan distributors for Rs200,000 to 300,000. It is high time that big names in the Pushto film industry brainstormed on saving the art from utter extinction.