An Exclusive Interview 𝒃𝒚 Najam-uddin Ahmad

I was lucky enough when I was told by a mutual friend of us that Mushtaq Soofi was going to visit Bahawalnagar on 6 & 7^th March, 2024. I didn’t let the chance slip out of my hand and made my ever first meeting with him on 6^th March because I had to proceed to Lahore in the early morning of 7^th March. Later on, we had long discussions on telephone until 22^nd May, 2024, when our final session of interview held at Punjabi Adabi Board, Lahore.

Born on 05-09-1948 in Sahiwal, Punjab, Pakistan, Mushtaq Soofi is a poet, writer, and critic and music maker. He also writes weekly column “Punjab Notes” for “Dawn” — an English language daily. His columns generally explore and analyze literature, language culture, cultural history, mythology, music and social issues.  

Mushtaq Soofi’s family migrated from Jalandhar, India, to Sahiwal, Pakistan in 1914 where his ancestors got agricultural land in the wake of establishment of canal colony network. He did his graduation and post-graduation in English literature from Government College, Lahore. However, he chose Punjabi for his poetic and creative expression. He has so far published following books: Poetry: (1) “Saavi da Dhola”1972 (2) “Haith Vagay Darya” 1975 (3)“Mitti da Maas” 1977 (4)“Taa” 1997 (5) “Din Pani” 2003 (6)”Khamb Saneha” 2021  (7) “Orakk” 2024; Folklore: A collection of folksongs titled “Bar de Geet” 1984; Criticism: (1)”Aashiq: Aakhri keh Navin (Hafiz Barkhurdar De Qissay “Sahban vich” 2010 (2) “Muhaad” 2021 (3) “Kach Pakk” 2023; Translations: (1) “Bertolt Brecht (A selection of his poems into Punjabi)” 1996 (2) “Communist Party da Manshoor (translation of Communist Manifesto” 2022; Literary editing: (1) Co-edited “Qissa Sahiban” by Hafiz Barkhurdar (2) Editing and glossary of “Heer Damodar” 2024.

Mushtaq Soofi co-produced more than 25 albums of non-commercial acoustic music with the top singers including Fateh Ali Khan (Gwalior Gharana), Mubarak Ali Khan, Farida Khanum, Reshman, Hari Haran, Mehnaz Begum, Humaira Channa and Gulbahar Bano under the aegis of Sachal Studios. He has also worked as a Programmes Producer, Programmes Manager and Controller Programmes at Pakistan Television Corporation (PTV). He also worked as a professor for the “Institute of Art and Culture, Lahore” for some years. Currently, he heads “Pakistan Punjabi Adbi Board, Lahore” as its president.

Mushtaq Soofi plays a leading role in the movement aimed at restoring the rights of Punjabi language. He lives in Lahore.

****

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

You have good command of English language but you preferred poetry in Punjabi. Why? You could have become a poet of English language.

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

I am comfortable in my mother language — Punjabi — which has a long literary tradition spanning over nine hundred year. Secondly, creative expression especially poetry draws heavily on one’s subconscious which can best be explored in their mother language that has organic links with psychic energy and intuitive power of its speakers. Composing poetry in a foreign language whether it’s English or Urdu means for me translating my experience and vision.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Did anyone inspire you in particular and urged you to become a poet of Punjabi language?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:  

Being born in a village I was brought up as a child in a community whose sole language was Punjabi. So I got hang of it quite early. Poetry and eloquent conversation fascinated me. What triggered the process of my becoming a writer of Punjabi language has a little story: When I was a fourth year student at Government College Lahore, my co-hostler at the New Hostel was late Ajmal Niazi, my two year senior. A few weeks before leaving the college he asked me in whispers if I was interested in literary activities. If so, being an outgoing secretary he would recommend me to the concerned professors as a candidate for the office of secretary of Punjabi Majlis of the college though the secretary is routinely an MA student. I as a young student jumped at the idea. He took me to Prof. Jilani Kamran and Prof. Saleem Mir. Both were highly cultured men. The former later was my teacher at the English Department. After a short interview both the gentlemen nodded their approval. I was on top of the world. Young men and women crave for visible profile. So did I. After a few years as a result of interaction with left leaning poets and intellectuals — Najam Hoasin Syed, Shafqat Tanveer Mirza and Asif Khan and others — I overcame such a craving born of ego. For the inaugural session of the Punjabi Majlis Prof Jilani Kamran asked me to invite Najam Hosain Syed, a poet of Punjabi language, as the chief guest. Mr. Syed served in Audits and Accounts service of Pakistan. I went to his office, big and spacious in a colonial style, and was met by a turbaned man, probably his peon, who went in with my slip. To my surprise, I was immediately allowed to go in. Mr. Syed stood up from behind his large table and warmly greeted me with a handshake which surprised me even more. It was a non-bureaucratic gesture, to say the least. Punjabi civil servants are atrociously stiff-necked and puffed up with self-importance. He came to the inaugural session and recited some of his poems which I couldn’t fully understand but I was familiar with the language used and it inspired me. That was the beginning of a long association with him which helped me understand literature and culture. One day out of nowhere a young man by the name of Tanveer Zahoor (a writer and editor) landed in the college and met me. He invited me to present one of my poems in the weekly session of Punjabi Adbi Sangat at YMCA, the Mall. I told him: “I hadn’t composed any poem.” He said, “Compose one” which, to my surprise, I did after a few days. When I presented my poem I was heaped with accolades. Shafqat Tanveer Mirza, a politically conscious intellectual and a committed rights activist, especially praised it to the sky. Now I realize that the poem didn’t deserve that kind of praise. The appreciation was meant to encourage me to write in Punjabi. I would never forget the generosity shown me by these great souls who unceasingly struggled for the rights of our language and culture. After all this there was no turning back.  

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Yours is a bit revolutionary poetry. Am I right? If yes, why is it so?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:  

No, I am not a revolutionary poet in the traditional sense. May be I am a poet who takes critical consciousness as an integral part of creative process. Critical stance of a poet whatever its form looks revolutionary in a traditional society like ours. Critiquing the given and exposing the prevalent has been a strong point of Punjab’s classical poetry that forms the bedrock of our literary culture. My poetry doesn’t titillate nor is it saccharine. I would be happy if it provokes or disturbs the readers and listeners emotionally and intellectually, and enriches the language.   

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Why your talents seem to have come to the fore in music, especially folk music and Kafis? Was it simply your innate interest in mystical poetry or are there some other reasons, too?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:  

Only the brain dead are not moved by music. In our tradition poetry has been organically linked with music. Music has played a significant role in disseminating it and keeping it alive. Folk music is what every child till the recent past used to hear, first lullabies and then riddles and puzzles and nursery rhymes. As to what you call mystic poetry, it’s a misnomer in my opinion. It’s serious poetry that deals with human predicament and basic questions of human existence. People incapable of understanding its depth and social roots have tagged it as mystic poetry/ Sufi poetry implying it has little to do with earthly matters. But it firmly reflects the concrete conditions which have made us what we are. Secondly, in the guise of making certain type of poetry sacred attempt is made to blunt its critical edge.

Kafi has been a wonderfully flexible lyrical genre introduced by Shah Husain in the sixteenth century. Later it caught the imagination of some major poets such as Bulleh Shah, Sachal Sarmast and Khawaja Farid and a score of others.

It’s now a part of musicians’ ensembles. I would like to remind you without sounding boastful that as a young poet I published my second book titled “Haith Wagay Darya” in 1975 in which I experimented with the traditional structure of Kafi in an effort to see if it could express the contemporary experience. I took the structure of Shah Husain’s Kafi as the point of departure for my experiment. So in these lyrics I kept the refrain, usually simple, and the lyrical element but the lines that followed the refrain were composed the way it was done in modern poems; complex and at times abstract, accessible and yet elusive. It inspired the readers and poets. After this publication and the influence it had we see an impressive array of modern poets in Punjabi and Sariaki, even in Urdu, who employed this genre for their poetic expressions.   

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Is it because of your deep affinity with the Sufi poets that you chose suffix “Sufi” with your name or is it for some other reason?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:  

No, I added Soofi to my name when I was a student at Government College Lahore. Why? I don’t know. Rest assured I am not a Sufi. At best I would be a fake Sufi as I can’t perform miracles expected of Sufis. I wish I could.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Do you still stand with your stance on Punjabi as an official language of the Province of Punjab? Do you have further arguments to present?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:  

My position is still the same. I would further say that Punjabi should be our national language. It’s a people’s language and is spoken by majority of Pakistan. National language by definition has to be the mother language of the majority. If not so, it would be an imposition as it has been the case with us for the last seven decades.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

What were the reasons for leaving the “Sachal Studio”?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

It was my dear friend Izzat Majeed who parted ways with me as far music making was concerned, amicably of course. Let me say to his credit, he had provided all the resources, which were massive, to build Sachal Studios and Sachal Music. I came up with my experience and built a team of musicians, almost all of them were personally known to me because of my long stint at PTV.  I have never seen a person generous like him who could spend hundreds of millions on producing the kind of non-commercial high quality acoustic music we loved. Sachal Studios was the first purpose-built studio in Pakistan that could record professional music of international quality. It had the top quality recording equipment and was set up by a London based German sound engineer, recordist and musician Cristopher Bracher. Music has been Izzat’s lifelong passion. He himself is a musician; he can play table (drum). He supported, pampered in fact, a lot of musicians and composers who worked for Sachal Studios. Then something happened in his personal life in 2013, I think, that impacted his music making. Within a span of a few years Sachal Studios was closed down and the studio equipment disposed of. An unexpected and sad end indeed. It happened at a time when Sachal was peaking and was being recognized as a powerhouse that produced serious music in Pakistan which was otherwise a cultural wasteland. Sachal Studios faded out at a time when its group was getting lot of invitations to play at the international stage. One of its versions of a Jazz standard (Brubeck’s Take 5) was number one on ITunes for some days, a rare honour for Pakistani music.  All good things pass. So did Sachal Studios. But those were the happiest years of my life, full of creativity and joy. Let me say again; I would not see a man like Izzat Majeed in my life again, at least not in Pakistan.    

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

When do you expect your next book, and will it be a collection of your poetry?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

A number of books in Punjabi and English are print ready.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

You also review books in your column, so you must be well aware of the literary scene in Pakistan. A good many translators are at work now. How do you rate them?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

I am nobody to rate them. However I am familiar with the works of some of the translators. As far as Punjabi is concerned Hameed Razi is a very competent translator. His translations of some of the novels are marvelous. Another good translator who died some years back was US based Javed Boota. Late Shafqat Tanveer Mirza also did some good translations. Mr. Saleem-ur-Rahman is a great translator. He has enriched Urdu language with his translations. Recently I came across a book “Ishq Nama” by Farrukh Yar on the life and work of poet Shah Husain. His rendering of Shah Husain’s Kafis in Urdu is laudable.  One cannot ignore Yasir Jawad who has been doing translations into Urdu for quite long. Some of his translations are admirable. Problem with the publishing industry is that it doesn’t pay the translators well. That naturally affects the quality.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Someone who translates into or from his/her mother language learns a lot about the art of translation. Nevertheless I rarely find anyone translating from Punjabi to English. Why should it be so? Or our writers, poets and translators fear that what they do or may do will not be deemed good and will be largely ignored?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

That’s not correct. We find a lot of translations coming out from the East Punjab. In the Western part where the rights of Punjabi language are denied in the name of so-called national unity translations are a trickle. The problem is that most of the writers who know Punjabi don’t have command of English while those who know English don’t know Punjabi. No language can afford to be indifferent to translations. It’s through translations that we get to know what happens beyond the boundaries of our own society. So the translators are cultural ambassadors, heralds of cosmopolitan vision.   

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

You have translated from English to Punjabi. What problems did you face?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

I didn’t face any problem when I translated Brecht’s poetry in 1980s. At times proper names and names of places and allusions would cause a bit of confusion. Internet facility now has removed all such irritants. The challenge I faced was: what the translation of a poem should look like. Should it be something familiar as if it’s from your language or something that should definitely look like translation, something different in structure showing that it was originally composed in a language different from the one it’s translated into? I don’t indigenize poetry when I translate it. I am always fascinated by the language structure and the way a poet develops it, not merely by the meanings or message. A poet who fails to discover the creative aspect of the language is no poet for me. Language is all a poet has. That’s what makes him/her a poet. All men and women have poetic ideas but that doesn’t make them poets. My effort as a translator would be to create structure(s) in my language similar to what I find in the original.  It may sound odd but this is what would enrich my language and readers alike. A translated poem should not sound as if it’s translator’s poetry. It should rather stand out as a piece of translation hinting at its non-indigenous cultural origins.

I also translated the “Communist Manifesto” in 1980s but the manuscript was lost during the Zia’s martial law when I felt forced to shift my books a couple of times. Fortunately, some years back I found it hidden in a bag full of books which were anathema to the authorities in the brutally oppressive days of Zia’s dictatorship. ‘Manifesto’ was a big challenge because of its complex philosophical and analytical prose. European languages such as German and English have developed intricate structure that allow you to have long sentences with clauses and subclauses which sound perfectly normal but it’s difficult to do so in our languages. As a reaction to it perhaps, after the demise of Sanskrit, a highly complex manufactured language, complicated linguistic structures became a thing of the past. Another problem was how to render philosophic and political terms born of European tradition into Punjabi. I tried my best to be up to the task.          

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Why didn’t you translate from Punjabi to English to promote your mother language, to familiarize the world with Punjabi fiction and poetry?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

I have co-translated Mian Kamal’s oral stories into English. I also do translations to be used in my weekly column. Translation is time consuming. I want to now focus more on my own writings. 

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

You wrote in one of your columns on music: “The sound is a sign of life. The best sound is that which carries the heard and unheard reverberations of life.” Does it mean that resonance continues even after the sound itself dies?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

Of course it does. That’s what a piece of good music does. Its lingering presence can be felt in silence after it’s gone. It continues to move you with its present absence. Music reflects human flight; it’s palpably accessible and yet intangible. It combines science and art. It has visibly concrete effect on it listeners and yet remains abstract.  That makes it accessibly inaccessible, one may say.    

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

People have an impression that you are inspired by Najam Hussain Syed and from his group. Whether it is poetry or criticism, you’re an extension of him. Please comment.

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

Inspired, yes. I learnt a lot from Najam Sb as a young man. But from the day one I trod my own path. From my first book (published when I was a student) to the last, I have been my own master. Construction of language, style, experience and vision are my own; distinctly different from what you find in his poetry and writings. A bit about language! I was perhaps the first contemporary poet to employ the western idiom of Punjabi in early 1970s for my poetic expression. And that’s what we find in the classical poetry. Najam sb gradually switched over to the western idiom in late 1980s. It’s a matter of record. You can check it. His is Marxist vision. His stance with the passage of time has only hardened regardless of whether he composes poetry or writes criticism. But Marxist thought is just one element of my worldview. As to the group, I was among the founder members of this informal group later called Sangat. Most of its early members were creative young people who shared a common vision of literature, history, culture, arts and music. Above all they decided to strive for the regeneration of Punjabi language. They were independent-minded. Najam sb was of course their senior and was given the respect he deserved but he was treated as first among equals. During the Zia’s martial law he discontinued the weekly group meeting held his place fearing raid from martial law’s goons. Later when it resumed its meetings it gradually underwent a major change due to changed conditions. Some of members left the group, some went abroad. New persons joined the group. Sadly, it gradually turned into a cult which meant no difference of opinion was tolerated and dissent was frowned upon. All agreed with all. Najam sb was taken as a guru and differing with him on any intellectual issue was declared a sin. This obviously wasn’t possible without Mr. Najam’s consent.  I attended the last meeting of the Sangat in 2003 if my memory serves me right. Let me say I allow no one to intellectually dictate me. A poet/ writer has to maintain his intellectual independence in the interest of creative expression. Now you can draw you conclusion whether I am or not his or his group’s ‘extension’. For good or bad, I am the only one among his friends and admirers who differed with some of his views not only verbally but also in writing. I critiqued, for example, his view of Sahiban and Mirza (legendry characters in the annals of Punjab) in my book “Ashiq Aakhri ke Navin”. Had you studied my poetry and literary criticism you wouldn’t have put such a question to me.  

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Punjabi has many dialects. Why? What dialect you think most genuine?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

It’s an absurd question. All dialects are what you call ‘genuine’. Language, any living language, exists on the ground as a dialect. Official and standard language is invariably manufactured and thus artificial. It’s created for complex human needs and it is based on one or more than one dialects. Dialect is natural speech. In our homeland till early twentieth century mainly western dialect was used i.e. a blend of Lehndi and Multani (now called Sariaki). Now more and more the central dialect known as Majhi is employed by writers and poets as the central region dominates the economic and political life. It’s interesting to note that there is no dialect by the name of Punjabi. The language based on a blend of dialects used by classical poets and writers was called Punjabi and understood all across Punjab that was linguistically much bigger and more diverse than present day East and West Punjab. In a nutshell, dialects are peoples’ languages and deserve all the respect.   

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Simultaneously, why it has many scripts and orthographies? Can it be possible that an agreed script and orthography may be adopted?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

Unfortunately, an agreement on a single script doesn’t seem possible in near future. The root cause lies in the different or conflicting historical views of the language and religious cultures held by diverse faith communities of Punjab. Arabic script is sacred for the Muslim Punjabis and Gurmukhi script for the Sikh and Hindu Punjabis. A schism exists between them which doesn’t seem easy to bridge. But it’s not a unique phenomenon. There are also some other languages with multiple scripts. Urdu/ Hindi has two scripts. So has Persian, the Arabic and the old indigenous one, for example. The issue of the script in Punjab is basically of ideological and political nature. It’s a drawn-out battle.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

What would you like to say about the present state of short stories in Punjabi? Where do they stand when compared to the fiction being written in other languages?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

The genre is flourishing. Short stories being produced are amazingly rich. Fiction from the East Punjab is simply world class; it’s richly layered and has humanist vision that can be shared across cultures. Human predicament when creatively explored in any language has universal dimensions. Punjabi short stories are no longer merely local stuff.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Can you tell our readers a few names of contemporary Punjabi short-story writers and novelists, who are producing relatively better fiction?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

Writers from the East Punjab such as Ajit Kaur, Jindar, Veena Varma, Prem Parkash and Baljit, for example, are not to be missed. This side of Punjab we have Khalid Farhad Dhaliwal, Malik Meher Ali, Naseer Ahmed, Hameed Razi, Nasir Baloch, Nain Sukh and Zubair Ahmed who can be taken as representatives of our fiction.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

And the Punjabi poets you like?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

Some of the poets I like and admire are Amrita Pritam, Pash, Najam Hosain Syed, Zamurad Malik, Nasreen Anjum Bhatti, Navtej Bharati, Surjit Patar, Saleem Shahzad, Raja Sadiqullah, Qabal Jafri, Dr. Ayub Awan, Anwar Chaudhry, Tauqeer Chugtai, Abid Ameeq (Saraiki) and Irshad Taunsvi (Saraiki).

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Being President of Punjabi Adbi Board, what efforts you have made for the uplift of Punjabi language and literature, and for the development of the institution?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

The basic responsibility of Pakistan Punjabi Adbi Board is to publish and promote Punjabi language and literature. But awful lack of fund is what affects our publication efforts. But still the Board continues to publish classics and contemporary prose and fiction. It brings out its quarterly literary ‘Punjabi Adb”. It also pro-actively participates in cultural and literary activities aimed at promoting our language and literature. It’s all voluntary work. No office bearer of the Board is paid for his/ her service.

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:

Punjabi culture and traditions are also on collapse, even in the rural areas which are always considered as great preserves. The parents prefer to talk with their children in Urdu mingled with English words. What reason do you see? And, how can it be stopped? What and how a role can be played by the poets and fictionist to ameliorate the situation?

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

Since the state patronizes languages other than Punjabi we face the situation you hinted at. Secondly, people naturally prefer to learn the languages which offer them prospects of jobs. So if Punjabi, our mother language, is introduced in schools and gradually made medium of instruction, things will improve and our children will comfortably use their natural language and thus will be less stressed. Imposition of foreign languages is a colonial legacy which is carried forward by our post-colonial elite which is anti-people like its predecessor. Thirdly, corporate capital tries through devious means to eliminate non-Western cultures and languages with the help of horribly alienated local ruling cliques. Writers and artists can help stall the process of cultural hegemony by exposing its anti-people nature. They can and must raise people’s critical consciousness through their creative expressions i.e. better literary and cultural products.  

NAJAM-UDDIN AHMAD:     

I asked you some hard questions, too. But you answered all politely with a smiling face. Thank you so much.

MUSHTAQ SOOFI:

Welcome.