Love and Revolution Faiz Ahmed Faiz: The Authorized Biography

204 Pages·2016·3.71 MB·English

by  Ali Madeeh Hashmi

Published by
Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd 2016
7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj
New Delhi 110002
Copyright © Ali Madeeh Hashmi 2016
Text photos courtesy the Faiz Foundation Trust, Pakistan.
Cover portrait by Saeed Akhtar. Courtesy Moneeza Hashmi
The views and opinions expressed in this book are the author’s own and the facts are as reported by him/her, which have been verified to
the extent possible, and the publishers are not in any way liable for the same.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-81-291-3777-7
First impression 2016
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
This edition is for sale in the Indian subcontinent only.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated,
without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.
To the future—Hamzah, Mahir, Faiz, Zainab, Alina, Anya, Ahmer and Amr
‘Bala se hum ne na dekha tau aur dekhen ge’
Contents
Preface
1. The Envy of the Kings of Ages
2. Fantasy and Reality
3. Arrival
4. Bewildering Dream
5. Lahore, My Love!
6. An End and a Beginning
7. A Love That Lights Up the Sky
8. The Lamenting Image
9. The Iron Corpse of Night
10. Independence
11. Workers of the World, Unite!
12. The Conspiracy-I
13. The Conspiracy-II
14. Slings and Arrows
15. The Lenin Peace Prize
16. Karachi
17. Bloodstains
18. Wanderer-I
19. Wanderer-II
20. Free at Last
21. Man and Myth-I
22. Man and Myth-II
Destinies in Love: Faiz Today
Acknowledgements
Preface
The idea of writing a biography of my Nana (grandfather) actually materialized gradually over a
number of years. He had been a towering (in some ways an overwhelming) presence in our lives. The
Zia dictatorship of the 1970s and 1980s was a difficult time for people like my family (liberal, Left-
leaning). I remember being teased and taunted in my schoolyard about being the grandson of a
‘communist’ and an ‘atheist’ (and feeling mystified about what that meant!). At that time, my main
concern was to distance myself from him as much as possible. Years later, living in the US, I could
look at his life more objectively. I knew that in spite of all that had been written about him, there had
never been a full-length biography. I had access to close family members and friends as well as his
personal papers and books. It also gave me a chance to get into his mind and understand him from the
inside out (which, as a psychiatrist, I’m interested in). I made a deliberate effort while writing the
book to avoid making a family connection and keep myself ‘out of the action’, so to speak, for
several reasons. I wanted the book judged on its own merit and not as a product of someone related to
Faiz. I also wanted to avoid adding to the ‘Faiz industry’ where people have turned a brief meeting
with him into articles or whole books about him, mainly employing Faiz as a prop to project
themselves—which to me appeared distasteful (although Faiz probably wouldn’t have minded!). I
wanted to keep the focus where it belonged, on Faiz and his life. Being a psychiatrist is an advantage
since we are used to peering beneath the surface of things and I was also very keen to write about the
human side of Faiz. I paid close attention to the events in his life which were emotionally significant,
like his father’s death at a young age, his brother’s death while he was in prison, his family life and
his pain at the thought of his family suffering because of his political stance. Yet, I don’t think the
book ‘psychologizes’ Faiz and it is most definitely not a ‘psychological analysis’ of his life or work
but if the reader does find some ‘psychological’ nuances in the book, it is because that is what I do
every day so some of it may have seeped in. People often ask me about my personal memories of
Faiz, but, regretfully, there are not too many. He was always travelling, and even when home, was
always surrounded by friends and admirers. I do remember him giving me an Urdu lesson. It was
probably in his last years. I remember he was a little breathless and wheezy because of his lung
problem. He was explaining a poem by Allama Iqbal (I don’t remember which one) and made a
sarcastic comment about ‘pan-Islamism’. Once we went to receive him at the airport didn’t recognize
me when I went up to greet him because he had been away so long and I had grown much taller in his
absence. He kept laughing about it. Ironically, my sharpest memories are of his last night and his
funeral. I remember him getting sick and my father and uncle and I taking him to the hospital. I was in
the backseat and he was in the front, semiconscious. I kept feeling his neck for a pulse and was
relieved that it was there. Then, of course, the funeral a couple of days later—the crowds, the
cameras; it was quite surreal. That’s why I have started the book with his death and his funeral, which I
remember most vividly.
The best part about writing the book was definitely to be able to really get to know him from the
inside out. It really felt like he was there at times, speaking to me through his poems and other
writings. It helped that his life has been documented so well (although in a scattered way). The prison
letters were a revelation too. To be able to hold on to hope and happiness under those conditions was
hugely inspiring.
It’s been quite a journey through a tumultuous life, a life ‘fully lived’. It’s up to the reader to
decide if I have been able to do justice to the life of this amazing man.
Needless to say, all those who helped in this book including those who are quoted in it are in no
way responsible for any errors which may appear in it. Any errors are entirely my own
responsibility.
Dr Ali Madeeh Hashmi
Lahore, November 2015