Daastaan-e-ameer Hamza Ka Mutaala

The poetics of the *dastan* demand certain elements, and these poetics are based on specific concepts and assumptions regarding literature and the universe. The original listeners and readers of the *dastan* had their own set of expectations. However, modern critics evaluate the *dastan* through the lens of an entirely different set of poetics and assumptions about literature and the universe. The result is obvious.

(1)

The subtitle of Shamsur Rahman Faruqi's famous and unparalleled book, *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib Qirani* (Magic, Kingship, and Lordship of the Auspicious Conjunction), is *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza Ka Mutala* (A Study of Dastan-e-Amir Hamza). I have chosen this very subtitle as the heading for this chapter of my book. *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib Qirani* was published in three volumes. Hereafter, it will be referred to as *S, Sh, S*. Other scholars have also written on Urdu *dastans*. The first volume of *S, Sh, S* contains a chapter titled Dastan Ke Naqqad (Critics of the Dastan). It offers a detailed examination of the criticism by Kalimuddin Ahmad and Gyan Chand Jain, along with a brief overview of the critical works of Raaz Yazdani, Suhail Bukhari, Waqar Azeem, Rahi Masoom Raza, Suhail Ahmad, Shamim Ahmad, and Muhammad Salim-ur-Rahman.

The third volume of *S, Sh, S* also mentions M. Habib Khan's criticism of the *dastan*. However, the approach of the book under discussion is entirely different from the works of all the aforementioned critics and researchers. The fact is that such a detailed study of Urdu *dastans* has been presented for the first time, and the information provided regarding the elements of the art of the *dastan* cannot be found anywhere else. Truth be told, this book is an encyclopedia of the Urdu *dastan*. To understand the trajectory of Faruqi's study regarding the *dastan*, let us look at the book's introductory details:

*S, Sh, S*, Volume I: *Nazari Mabahis* (Theoretical Discussions). First Edition: October/December 1999. Size: Demy. Pages: 559. Price: 180 Rupees. Publisher: National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language, Delhi. Foreword: Dr. Hamidullah Bhat, Director, National Council. Dedication: To Shahryar, *Aina-e-ma roo-e-tora aks pazeer ast* [The mirror of our soul is receptive to your reflection]. This is followed by a fine point by Mirza Abdul Qadir Bedil:

*Sahra girahist dar dil-e-tang*

*Darya arqest chakida az sang*

*Lakhte ba-dar aa z-alame nang*

*Yaani ke ze kargah-e-nairang*

*Har naqsh ke didi aan qadar nest*

[The desert is but a knot in a constricted heart,

The river is but a drop of sweat trickled from a stone.

Step out for a moment from this world of illusion,

Meaning that, from this workshop of deception,

Every form you see is not as substantial as it appears.]

Table of Contents:

Author's Note

Introduction

Chapter One: The Poetics of the Dastan (1)

Chapter Two: The Poetics of the Dastan (2)

Chapter Three: Oral Narrative (1) - Its Domain is Distinct

Chapter Four: Oral Narrative (2) - Life and Death, Divine Grace

Chapter Five: Oral Narrative (3) - Dynamics

Chapter Six: The Dastan and the Limits of Human Knowledge

Chapter Seven: The Narrator

Chapter Eight: The Audience

Chapter Nine: The Formation of the Dastan

Chapter Ten: Memory, Retrieval, Reconstruction

Chapter Eleven: Critics of the Dastan

Acknowledgments

Index

Volume II: *Amali Mabahis* (Practical Discussions). First Edition: 2006. Size: Demy. Pages: 224. Price: 202 Rupees. Publisher: National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language, Delhi. Foreword: Rashmi Chowdhury, Director In-charge, National Council.

Dedication: As a tribute to the memory of Aal-e-Ahmad Suroor (1911–2002), whose single sentence would not be wrong to consider as the foundation of all *dastan* criticism:

'Before the novel, we possess a magnificent heritage of *dastans*, whose greatness must be acknowledged, but which belongs to an art form entirely different from the novel.'

— Aal-e-Ahmad Suroor, 'Fiction: Kya, Kyun Aur Kaise?' (Fiction: What, Why, and How?), published in *Shabkhoon*, Issue 72, May 1972.

Table of Contents:

Preface to Volume II: Followed by a single page featuring only this verse:

*Che goyad kas az khoobi-e-qissa khwaan*

*Ke dar mulk-e-khoobi ast sahib qiraan*

[What can anyone say of the storyteller's excellence?

For in the realm of excellence, he is the Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction.]

(Hakim Afzal-ud-Din Khaqani Shirvani)

Chapter One: How Many Tomes, How Many Volumes?

Chapter Two: The Arrangement of the Dastan

Chapter Three: Dastan-e-Amir Hamza: How Many Pages?

Chapter Four: Publication History, Arrangement, and Authorship of the Dastan

Chapter Five: Mention of the Dastan-gos (Storytellers)

Chapter Six: The Fiction of the Dastan

Index

After this, the same point from *Nukaat-e-Bedil* (The Subtle Points of Bedil) appears as in the first volume. Here, Point 10 is written in parentheses.

Volume III: *Jahan-e-Hamza* (The World of Hamza). First Edition: 2006. Size: Demy. Pages: 436. Price: 280 Rupees. Publisher: National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language, Delhi. Foreword: Rashmi Chowdhury, Director In-charge, National Council.

Dedication: To the young *dastan-go*, actor, and English journalist, Mahmood Farooqui.

*Dastane nest dar dast-e-jahan beh z-in sukhan*

*Rastan jaan bar sar-e-in dastan afshanda and*

[The world holds no tale better than these words;

The truthful have scattered their souls upon this tale.]

(Hakim Afzal-ud-Din Khaqani Shirvani)

This is followed by the same point by Mirza Bedil presented in the first and second volumes. Then, on a separate page, there are two couplets by Ferdowsi:

*Hami khwaham az dawar-e-kirdagar*

*Ke chandan aman yaabam az rozgar*

*K-az in namwar nama-e-bastan*

*Bimanam ba-giti yake dastan*

[I only seek from the Just Creator,

That I may find enough respite from time,

So that from this renowned ancient book,

I may leave behind a tale in this world.]

Table of Contents:

Preface to Volume III

Introduction

Jahan-e-Hamza

Index

The tables of contents for the first and second volumes give some idea of their contents. However, the title *Jahan-e-Hamza* in the third volume reveals little. In the Author's Note of the first volume, Faruqi outlines a four-volume plan. The first volume deals with theoretical discussions, and the second with practical discussions. Regarding the latter, he writes:

If this volume does not become too lengthy, it will also include discussions on the important agents (Actants) of the *dastan*—such as the *ayyar* (trickster), *sahir* (sorcerer), *sahib-e-qiran* (Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction), *diwana* (madman), *dev* (demon), *parizad* (fairy-born), *qazzaq* (brigand), *dast-e-chapi* (left-hand warrior), *dast-e-rasti* (right-hand warrior)—as well as the laws of the *tilism* (magical realm), *futuwwat* (chivalry), a critical review of the battle cries of Amir Hamza and other warriors, and the element of humor in the *dastan*.

If the discussion of these latter topics requires a separate volume, it will be designated as the third volume, for which I have tentatively proposed the title *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat* (Characters and Places). For the time being, I have titled the final volume *Dastan-e-Dunya* (The World of the Dastan). It will contain an individual critical assessment of all forty-six volumes, and each volume will be ranked according to its literary merit and excellence. (*S, Sh, S*, Volume I, p. 16)

However, the third volume is not titled *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat*, but rather *Jahan-e-Hamza*. And the final volume, *Dastan-e-Dunya*, which would have been the fourth volume, has not yet seen the light of day. In the preface to the second volume, as well as in the preface and introduction to the third volume, Faruqi writes:

Preface to Volume II: The volume based on *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat* has been designated as the third volume under the title *Jahan-e-Hamza*. The fourth volume, God willing, will consist of a study of the individual volumes of the (lengthy) *dastan* as originally intended, and its title remains the same for now—namely, *Dastan-e-Dunya*—as previously proposed.

Preface to Volume III: I had thought of titling the third volume *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat*. However, during the course of the work, I realized that this volume discusses more than just characters and places... Therefore, this volume has now been named *Jahan-e-Hamza*. The name of the fourth volume, God willing, will remain the same (*Dastan-e-Dunya*) as previously proposed.

Introduction (Volume III): In this volume, we will present a brief detailing of certain important events, characters, and literary and narrative characteristics of the (lengthy) *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* in the form of a glossary... Now, please observe the glossary titled *Jahan-e-Hamza*.

Clearly, *Jahan-e-Hamza* is also a highly significant volume. It could aptly be described as a dictionary of the themes found in the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza*. It provides a detailed glossary encompassing all the elements, contexts, and related aspects of the epic. Like the second volume, this too is a major feat of research. The first volume is crucial for understanding the poetics of the art of *dastan* storytelling. If the fourth volume is published, it will undoubtedly be the most valuable in terms of establishing the epic's critical worth.

At this point, to introduce Urdu *dastans* (epics), I believe it is appropriate to outline some essential points, drawing upon Farooqi's work.

(1) Urdu *dastans* comprise eight *daftars* (sections), forty-six volumes, and approximately forty-four thousand pages.

(2) What is meant by a *daftar*? A *daftar* does not simply mean a volume. Rather, a *daftar* is a collection of those *dastans* that share a slightly stronger than usual thematic connection with one another (Vol. II, p. 31). This can be understood through an analogy: just as specific Quranic verses, revealed under various circumstances, were placed into specific chapters (*surahs*) based on divine instruction—meaning they were grouped by thematic coherence—a similar logic applies here. It is highly likely that the *dastans* were organized into *daftars* based on their mutual connections, resulting in seven such sections. An additional *daftar* was created to house *pattay* (notes/outlines), various narrative fragments, and minor, unrelated incidents. Therefore, the eighth *daftar* can be considered a sort of scrapbook or miscellany.

(3) What is a *patta*? A *patta* can be described as a prompt or cue used to expand the narrative. In modern terminology, it would be called a note or an outline.

(4) The Compilation of the *Dastan*...

It is conclusively proven that these *dastans* are not translations from Persian. However, our *dastan*-tellers cannot strictly be called their authors either. It is also quite clear that within the *dastan* tradition, the concepts of translation versus authorship, compilation versus translation, correction versus arrangement, or seeking assistance versus providing it, are all very fluid. Consequently, since the very system of composing a *dastan* is quite unstructured, the coherence and sequencing between its various events and narratives are maintained just enough to prevent the story from becoming completely convoluted. (S. Sh. Vol. II, p. 61)

Farooqi has also noted that:

Not only did a vast oral tradition of the *dastan* already exist, but it is also likely that different storytellers developed their own specializations in specific *dastans*, and they were the ones who exclusively narrated them. (S. Sh. Vol. III, p. 185)

When the idea of compiling these *dastans* was conceived, the task of writing them down was assigned to the very storytellers who had mastered their respective narratives, or they were asked to dictate their stories.

(5) The Origins of Writing and Publishing the *Dastan*... The practice of writing down and publishing the *dastan* began at Fort William College in Calcutta, where Khalil Ali Ashk translated a concise version of the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza*—which he claimed was from Persian. (S. Sh. Vol. I, p. 72) A version of this concise *dastan* was published by Ghalib Lakhnavi (Calcutta, 1855), and with slight modifications, Abdullah Bilgrami published it under his own name from the Naval Kishore Press in Lucknow (1871). In my view, it is also entirely possible that whatever the storytellers remembered of the *dastan*, they either wrote down themselves or dictated to a scribe, adding considerable creative embellishment during the process.

(6) The Formal Publication of *Dastans*... Between 1883 and 1917, various *dastans* and their numerous volumes were published. While reprints of certain *dastans* continued until 1940, the most prolific year for *dastan* publication was 1897. This is evident from the bibliography provided by Farooqi, who explicitly notes 1897 as the peak year of activity. According to Farooqi's research, ten volumes were published in that single year. It is safe to say that the final decade of the nineteenth century rendered an immense service to the publication of Urdu *dastans* in India.

(7) The Publisher and Printer of the *Dastans*... This monumental service was carried out by Munshi Naval Kishore. As the owner of the Naval Kishore Press in Lucknow and Kanpur, Munshi Naval Kishore commissioned storytellers to write down these epics and published them in rapid succession. We can proudly say that this massive and invaluable treasure of Urdu literature was brought to light through the dedication of a non-Muslim devotee of the Urdu language. Had it not been for him, with the eventual decline of traditional storytelling gatherings, we would not even be aware of its existence today. We take immense pride in Munshi Naval Kishore's services to Urdu.

(8) Urdu *Dastan*-Tellers and Their *Dastans*:

(i) Muhammad Husain Jah (died between 1891 and 1893, according to Farooqi's research): Son of Syed Ghulam Husain Rammal, younger brother of Ahmad Husain Qamar, and a resident of Lucknow. *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* (four volumes).

(ii) Ahmad Husain Qamar (died February/March 1901): Older brother of Jah. *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* (six volumes), *Homan Nama* (one volume), *Tilism-e-Fitna-e-Noor Afshan* (three volumes), *Tilism-e-Haft Paikar* (three volumes), *Tilism-e-Khayal-e-Sikandari* (three volumes), *Tilism-e-Nokhez-e-Jamshedi* (three volumes).

(iii) Sheikh Tasadduq Husain (died between 1911 and 1917): *Naushirwan Nama* (two volumes), *Hormuz Nama* (one volume), *Kochak Bakhtar* (one volume), *Bala Bakhtar* (one volume), *Iraj Nama* (two volumes), *La'al Nama* (two volumes), *Aftab-e-Shuja'at* (six volumes).

(iv) Syed Ismail Asar (died before 1927): *Sandali Nama* (one volume).

(v) Pyare Mirza (date of death unknown) and Sheikh Tasadduq Husain (co-authored): *Toraj Nama*, Volume I (one volume).

(vi) Ahmad Husain Qamar, Sheikh Tasadduq Husain, and Syed Ismail Asar (co-authored): *Tilism-e-Zafran Zar-e-Sulaimani* (two volumes). Qamar had begun writing *Zafran Zar* but passed away before its completion. (S. Sh. Vol. I, p. 122)

(vii) Sheikh Tasadduq Husain (with corrections by Syed Ismail Asar): *Toraj Nama*, Volume II (one volume), *Gulistan-e-Bakhtar* (three volumes).

This brings the grand total to forty-six volumes produced by five primary *dastan*-tellers—excluding the authors of the abridged *dastans*, namely Khalil Ali Ashk, Mir Ahmad Ali, Ghalib Lakhnavi, and Abdullah Bilgrami.

(9) Who Exactly is Amir Hamza?... The late Suhail Bukhari’s research suggests that the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is based on a book titled *Maghari Hamza*, which chronicles the life of a Kharijite named Hamza bin Abdullah al-Shari. However, this is mere conjecture. (S. Sh. Vol. I, p. 154) It is not merely conjecture; it should be called an absurd assumption. Indian *dastan*-tellers would never cast a Kharijite as their hero. First, Lucknow was a stronghold of Shiism. Second, the storytellers themselves were Shia. Third, the ruling government of the time was also Shia. In the eyes of all these groups, a Kharijite could hold no significance whatsoever. Therefore, this hypothesis defies all logic. For Shias, Hazrat Amir Hamza (May Allah be pleased with him) undoubtedly holds immense reverence. However, Farooqi also asserts that within the context of the *dastan*, the Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) himself and the Prophet's uncle do not possess their actual historical identities; rather, they are entirely fictionalized constructs.

This is unacceptable to me because Muslims have never dared to use the revered name of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) in fictional narratives. Let alone an angel or a devil assuming the physical form of the Holy Prophet (PBUH), no one can even falsely exploit his exalted name. Therefore, how could Muslim *dastan* narrators possibly do such a thing? Furthermore, it is impossible for any sensible person to take a fictional character—or even a real but non-Syed individual—and falsely present them as a member of the Prophet's family, let alone as the beloved uncle of the Holy Prophet (PBUH).

Ancient traditions regarding the origins of *dastan* narration reveal that stories about Hazrat Amir Hamza were popular across Islamic lands, and this was by the very command of the Messenger of Allah. Furthermore, the Holy Prophet (PBUH) himself would occasionally listen to these stories from Hazrat Abbas (RA). If these accounts are entirely fictional, shouldn't they be classified as fabricated (*maudu*) hadiths? And who would bear the responsibility for this? It certainly cannot be attributed to the Umayyads; the responsibility would fall squarely on the Abbasids. Even if they did concoct such a massive fiction, why would they forge a false lineage or attribution? In my view, while many narratives within the *dastan* might be fictional, the core attribution cannot be false. Therefore, because of this direct association with the Holy Prophet (PBUH), I consider the protagonist of *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* to be the historical Hazrat Amir Hamza himself. I can, however, accept that subsequent iterations—Hamza the Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, and so on—are purely fictional and imaginative characters created by the *dastan* narrators. There is no reason to dismiss as mere fiction the light that the *dastan* narrators themselves have shed on the origins of their craft. Shamsur Rahman Faruqi, referencing Suhail Bukhari, previously expressed the following view:

The origin of *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is most likely Iranian. (Ibid., p. 153)

However, no evidence was provided to prove this Iranian origin. If attributing the royal exploits of figures like Naushirwan, Hormuz, Iraj, Turaj, and Homan to the persona of Amir Hamza serves as proof of the *dastan's* Iranian origins, then their assertion might hold true. This is because *dastans* certainly possess an allegorical dimension. Yet, they also acknowledge that this tradition was prevalent in multiple countries, with each region imparting its own geographical influences. Therefore:

It is incorrect to attribute a *dastan* to any specific country or era. Something that has been passed down from hand to hand and from generation to generation should be considered the heritage of every language and country where it is practiced. (Ibid., p. 150)

One cannot complain about such intellectual generosity. However, in my view, the crucial point is that when this orally transmitted tradition was narrated or written in the Persian language, it belonged to Iran and Persian. Conversely, when the exact same tradition was narrated or written in the Urdu language, it became the property of India and Urdu. This is the unique significance of Urdu *dastans*: they possess their own distinct creative narrative. They contain their own imagination, their own language, their own vitality, their own lived experience, and their own distinct perspective.

(10) The Titles of Amir Hamza — Khalil Ali Ashk has identified Amir Hamza as the uncle of the Final Prophet. Consequently, his titles are as follows:

King of Men and Man of the Battlefield, Bestower of Crowns to the World and Subduer of the Rebellious, Uncle of the Final Prophet, meaning the World-Conquering Amir.

Even if we assume that Amir Hamza refers to some other leader rather than the Prophet's uncle, these titles—excluding Uncle of the Final Prophet—would still perfectly befit his grandeur. For instance, in *Bala Bakhtar*, the titles are:

Pearl of the Ocean of Bravery and Priceless Ruby of the Mine of Courage and Daring, Moon of the Sky of Valor, Sun of the Firmament of Heroism, the Dignified Amir, Master of Intellect and Strategy, Conqueror of Lands and Realms, Pride of the Sultans of the World, King of Kings and Sultan of Sultans, Earthquake of Mount Qaf, the Second Solomon, Hamza, the *Sahib-e-Qiran* (Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction) of the Age.

In *Kochak Bakhtar*, the titles are:

Sultan of Sultans, King of Kings, Subduer of the Rebellious, Snatcher of Men from the Saddle of War, Lion of the Forest of Battle, Breaker of the Bow of Rustam Dastan, Wielder of the Mace of Sam bin Nariman, Earthquake of Mount Qaf, the Second Solomon, the Magnificent Amir Hamza, *Sahib-e-Qiran* of the Era.

Faruqi has also documented similar titles found in other *dastans*. These honorifics clearly indicate that *dastan* narrators both adopted traditional titles and coined new ones. If one considers the necessity of these titles, it becomes evident that the narrators were actually praising the rulers of their own times under the guise of Amir Hamza. In other words, Amir Hamza, the *Sahib-e-Qiran*, was presented as a literary stand-in for the political leaders of the narrators' era.

If we consider why Amir Hamza specifically was chosen as this representative, the reason becomes clear: by using Amir Hamza as a metaphor for their local sultan or nawab, the narrators could channel the deep public sympathy associated with his tragic martyrdom and post-mortem mutilation toward their own rulers. Furthermore, the virtues and excellences of a king or nawab could be projected eloquently and effectively through this persona. Even certain immoral traits of a ruler could be justified as part of his distinctive grandeur. Because it was all framed through the metaphor of Amir Hamza, there was no risk of the actual ruler taking offense. Now, if we consider that the historical Hazrat Amir Hamza (RA) was neither a king of religion nor a king of the world, why was he titled King, or even King of Kings? The reason for this is also quite apparent. Hazrat Amir Hamza (RA) was the deeply beloved uncle of the King of Religion and the World, the Master of Both Worlds, Hazrat Muhammad Mustafa (PBUH). He was martyred in the Battle of Uhud, where Hindah notoriously carved out and chewed his liver. This was such a heart-rending tragedy that the Holy Prophet (PBUH) himself wept tears of blood over it.

Naturally, the profound grief of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) also deeply affected Hazrat Ali (RA). Consequently, on behalf of the entire Muslim *Ummah*, Hazrat Amir Hamza was awarded the ultimate mantle of courage and masculinity, and his valor became a point of universal pride. The greatest feat a valiant king can achieve on the battlefield culminates in martyrdom, and the martyrdom of Hazrat Amir Hamza was the first such sacrifice by a revered member of the Prophet's family. Therefore, there is absolutely no impropriety in bestowing the title King of Kings upon him.

Similarly, there is a valid justification for calling Amir Hamza the *Sahib-e-Qiran*. Originally, *Sahib-e-Qiran* refers to a person born at a time when two major planets—such as Jupiter and Saturn, or Venus—align within a single zodiac sign. Such an individual is destined to achieve great renown in their lifetime. *Sahib-e-Qiran* was famously the title of Amir Timur. According to the *dastan* narrators, as Faruqi points out:

A *Sahib-e-Qiran* is one who has journeyed to Mount Qaf and fought there, who is victorious everywhere, and whose son shares these exact traits. (*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 3, p. 189)

Furthermore:

A *Sahib-e-Qiran* is one who surpasses all men of the world in lineage, intellect, sagacity, strength, and daring. (*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 3, p. 191)

From this perspective as well, Amir Hamza possesses the finest Hashmi lineage. It was due to his wisdom and intellect that the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) held him so dear, and there can be absolutely no doubt regarding his bravery, martial prowess, and martyrdom. He was no less renowned than any king. Therefore, he is undoubtedly a *Sahib-e-Qiran* (Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction). By bestowing this title upon Amir Hamza, the storytellers revived the memory of Amir Timur, and through this connection, they pleased their praised Shia patrons.

(11) *Haza min fazl-e-Rabbi* (This is by the grace of my Lord)... The storytellers have thoroughly depicted the mutual relationships, dealings, and morals—both good and bad—of Amir Hamza's children and descendants. In reality, this was also a way to demonstrate loyalty to the Sultan or Nawab of their time, implying: Since we are your loyal servants, it is our duty to keep our master informed of every good and bad occurrence. Furthermore, even when Amir Hamza has disagreements with allies like Amar Ayyar and Landhoor, his mission never stalls. He is blessed with God's special grace. He has the privilege of the Angel Gabriel's tutelage. He enjoys the love and high regard of his nephew, the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). Therefore, other than the grace of the Lord and divine guidance, what thing or person could he possibly depend upon?

(12) Introduction to Amar Ayyar... Farooqi writes:

Just like Amir Hamza, the detailed titles of Amar Ayyar were first described by Khalil Ali Ashk in his fourth volume, on page 2, as follows:

'The leader of those who kiss the dust of the feet (?) on the expanse of the children of Adam, the revered master, the gatherer of grace and generosity, the relentless runner, the conqueror of forts without a fight, the master of the *Qantoora* and the *Zang* (musical instruments used by tricksters), the commander of men, the halter for the wretched, meaning the one whose abode is paradise, the chief of companions, Khwaja Amar bin Zamri the illustrious, the lamp of the army of Islam.'

In one instance, Amar himself states his name and titles as follows:

The lion of the field of trickery and the crocodile of the vast ocean of cunning, the commander of commanders across the lands of the children of Adam, the revered and honored master, the gatherer of grace and generosity, the relentless runner, the conqueror of forts without a fight, the commander of men and the halter for cowards, the master of the *Qantoora* and the *Zang*, the world-conquering trickster of the respected and magnificent realm, the earthquake of the mountain of Qaf of Solomon, Hamza the Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction, the exalted Amir, the trickster, the deceiver, the schemer, the traitor, and the dagger-wielding Khwaja Amro bin Umayya Zamri the illustrious. (*Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Volume 6, p. 908, referenced in *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Volume 3, p. 320).

A couple of points are worth noting here. First, Khalil Ali Ashk wrote Khwaja Amar (without the silent letter *waw* at the end), whereas Amar introduced himself as Khwaja Amro (with the *waw*). Ashk only wrote bin Zamri, but Amar stated his full patronymic as bin Umayya Zamri. Second, Ashk did not mention the flaws in Amar's character, whereas Amar included trickster, deceiver, schemer, traitor in his own titles. This means he introduces himself with complete frankness, free from any superiority or inferiority complex, acknowledging that just as he has virtues, he also has vices, and unlike the Banu Hashim, he does not possess the distinction of a noble lineage. He is not the *Syed-ul-Ashaab* (Master of the Companions); he is the *Sheikh-ul-Ashaab* (Chief of the Companions). Moving forward, Farooqi writes:

The matter of Amar's name is somewhat complex. Most *dastans* state that Buzurjmehr named both Amir Hamza and Amar... but there are also instances where Khwaja Abdul Muttalib named Amir Hamza 'Abul Ula' and Amar Ayyar 'Amro' (with a *waw*). (*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol. 3, p. 320).

Buzurjmehr says, 'We have named him Amar-o-bil-Fath' (Bilgrami: 50). This means the pronunciation of the name will have two short 'a' sounds, matching the poetic meter of the word *khabar*, rather than having a silent second letter matching the meter of *shahr*. (Ibid., p. 321).

It should be kept in mind that in Arabic, a diminutive form of Umar (first letter with a short 'u', second with a short 'a') is Amro, and it is pronounced with a short 'a' on the first letter and a silent second letter, matching the meter of *dahr* or *shahr*. When Buzurjmehr clarified that the child's name is Amar-o-bil-Fath (Bilgrami, 50), it implies that the name is pronounced with short 'a' sounds on both the first and second letters, matching the meter of *khabar*... Here (meaning in the Indian *dastan*), we see that in Amar's poetic battle cries (with the exception of one), his name is written to match the meter of *khabar* everywhere, and the spelling is recorded as Amro (عمرو). Therefore, it is established that whatever the pronunciation may have been in the Persian *dastan*, in its Indian adaptation, the pronunciation matching *khabar* and the spelling Amro are correct. The one battle cry where it is versified to match the *dahr/shahr* meter is as follows:

(Naushirwan, Part 1, 359)

*Amram ke kulah az sar-e-Qaisar be-baram*

*Rang az rukh-e-Bakhtak-e-bad-akhtaram be-baram*

*Dar majlis-e-Khusrawan chu gardam saqi*

*Tegh o separ o sabu o saghar be-baram*

[I am Amar, who snatches the crown from the Caesar's head,

I drain the color from the face of the ill-starred Bakhtak.

When I become the cupbearer in the assembly of kings,

I carry away the sword, the shield, the pitcher, and the goblet.]

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol. 3, pp. 321-322)

It should be noted that Ghalib also composed Amar's name on the meter of *khabar*:

*Dar ma'ni se mera safha Laqa ki darhi*

*Gham-e-geti se mera seena Amar ki zambil*

[With the pearls of meaning, my page is as dense as Laqa's beard,

With the sorrows of the world, my chest is as vast as Amar's pouch.]

In some manuscripts, it is found written phonetically as Amar (امر) with two short 'a' sounds. This confirms that in Ghalib's time, the pronunciation of Amar Ayyar's name matched the meter of *khabar*. Ghalib also adhered to this pronunciation in a Persian panegyric (in praise of Nawab Kalb-e-Ali Khan):

*Ze ghamza-e-to che goyam ke aan bood ze Amar*

*Daler o chust o hunarmand-tar ba ayyari*

[What can I say of your amorous glance, for compared to Amar, it was

Braver, swifter, and more skillful in trickery.]

This exact pronunciation appears repeatedly in this panegyric. From Ghalib's use of this pronunciation in a Persian panegyric, it can be concluded that the prevalent pronunciation in Persian would also have matched the meter of *khabar*. (Ibid., Vol. 3, p. 322).

As far as Urdu is concerned, it can be said with certainty that the correct pronunciation matches the meter of *khabar*. Tota Ram Shayan, in his versified *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* titled *Tilism-e-Shayan*, has also written it everywhere on the meter of *khabar* (sometimes with the *waw* and sometimes without it). Therefore, we can only deduce that it is Amar with two short 'a' sounds. It is not with a short 'u' on the first letter and a short 'a' on the second. (*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol. 3, p. 322).

And to prove his point, Farooqi quotes the following verses from *Tilism-e-Shayan*:

*Bara hi shokh hoga aur chalak*

*Nihayat muftari ayyar-e-bebak*

*Amar al-qissa us ne naam paya*

*Qalam ab doosre matlab par aaya*

*Sune jis waqt mazmoon zehr-amez*

*Amar ki aatish-e-ghussa hui tez*

*Fard Hamza ne ki aatish Amar ki*

*Nahin insan ko lazim hai garmi*

*Uthaya al-gharaz un ko ba-tauqeer*

*Amar dil mein magar tha sakht dilgeer*

*Suno ab doosre din ki kahani*

*Amar ne bhi ba-rasm-e-mehmani*

*Jahan baithe hue the dono mehmaan*

*Kiye hazir Amar ne la ke do khwaan*

*Khajalat se nihayat taish khaya*

*Amar ke qatl par khanjar uthaya*

[He will be highly mischievous and cunning,

An extreme fabricator, a fearless trickster.

In short, he received the name Amar,

The pen now turns to another matter.

When he heard the venomous words,

The fire of Amar's anger flared up.

Hamza extinguished the fire of Amar,

Saying, such heat does not befit a human.

In short, he raised them with respect,

But in his heart, Amar was deeply aggrieved.

Listen now to the tale of the second day,

Amar too, following the custom of hospitality,

Where the two guests were seated,

Amar brought and presented two trays of food.

Out of embarrassment, he flew into a great rage,

And raised his dagger to murder Amar.]

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol. 3, p. 323)

And he presents his final judgment:

From the above verses, it becomes clear that the name of Amar Ayyar is only correct on the meter of *khabar*, and wherever it is written merely as 'Umar' (عمر), it should be considered a scribal error and must not be read on the meter of *hunar*. Because this name, in any case, does not match the meter of *hunar*. In the first edition of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Volume Four (1890), 'Umar' is found everywhere. Obviously, this too is a scribal error. In *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Volume One, page 818, there is one such example where Amar's name appears not in a poetic battle cry, but in a versified narrative. And there too, its pronunciation matches the meter of *khabar* because the spelling is written as 'Amro' (عمرو), and there is no question of 'Amro' matching the meter of *hunar*.

[Amr ko jo karte the sahir halak

Gareban sehar ka hua gham se chaak]

(The sorcerers who sought to destroy Amr,

The very collar of magic was torn by grief.)

As for the issue of its spelling, as we have already seen, the *dastan* repeatedly spells it as 'Amr' with the letter *waw* (عمرو). However, there are occasional deviations from this practice. We can attribute these deviations to the carelessness of the scribe or the storyteller. (S. Sh. Vol. 3, p. 324)

Faruqi’s research on this matter carries significant weight. For my own satisfaction, I consulted a few dictionaries available to me:

*Farhang-e-Asifiya*: Amr (Masculine noun. A fictional name). Since there was no visual distinction in writing between the name of Hazrat Umar (RA) and this name, reading Umar (with a *pesh* vowel) as Amar (with a *zabar* vowel) was considered a breach of respect. Therefore, the convention of writing this name with an additional *waw* was established.

*Muhazzab-ul-Lughat*: Amr (with a *zabar* on the first letter, a *sukoon* on the second, and a *pesh* on the third). The name of the hero of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, who was the foremost trickster (*ayyar*) of the Muslim camp. The language of the Urdu masses.

*Qaul-e-Faisal*: The letter *waw* was added in writing solely to differentiate between *Umr* meaning life (with a silent *meem*) and *Umar* as a name (with a *pesh* on the first letter and a *sukoon* on the second). The *waw* was meant only to be written, not pronounced. However, the commoners and the uneducated began pronouncing it. The eloquent speakers of Lucknow pronounce it with a *zabar* on the first letter and a silent second letter. The commoners and the uneducated pronounce it with a *zabar* on both letters. The titles Khwaja and Ayyar are integral parts of his name.

*Noor-ul-Lughat*: Amr, Arabic, masculine, Umar, was the name of a person. After this, an unpronounced *waw* was added for the purpose of distinguishing between *Umar* and *Amr*. And mostly *Amar* (with a *zabar* on the first and second letters) is on people's tongues.

But the fact is that there is no well-researched information in these dictionaries. The claim that Amr is a fictional name is completely wrong. And the idea that the tradition of writing this name with an extra *waw* was established due to the fear of disrespect in accidentally reading *Umar* as *Amar* is even more misleading—as if no one was named Amr before Umar. The assertion by *Muhazzab-ul-Lughat* and *Noor-ul-Lughat* that the *waw* was written but not pronounced is correct. However, if the eloquent speakers of Lucknow pronounced Amr with a *zabar* on the first letter and a silent second letter, and pronounced it correctly, then what is this business of a *pesh* on the third letter? Was the *waw* added in Urdu for this reason, since no word in Urdu ends with a voweled letter? Furthermore, if the eloquent speakers of Lucknow pronounced it with a *zabar* on the first and a silent second letter, while the commoners and the uneducated pronounced it with two *zabars*, then why did poets and storytellers follow the commoners and the uneducated instead of the eloquent speakers of Lucknow? And then, what was the need for a written *waw* anyway? They say it was the name of a person—who was that person? Was it not necessary to mention this?

The researched truth is that Amr and Umar are two distinct names, and their pronunciations are different. The pronunciation of Amr with a *waw* follows the poetic meter of *Badr* or *Shahr*. However, Urdu speakers have a habit of adding vowels to silent letters and silencing voweled letters. So, when the silent *meem* in Amr is given a *zabar* (making it *Amar*), it naturally falls into the meter of *Khabar*. It will absolutely never follow the meter of *Hunar*, because the *zabar* on the first letter (*ain*) remains in place; it will not change. Faruqi has made a valid point, but he should have clarified the statement there is no question of it being on the meter of *Hunar* so that no one would face even a moment's difficulty in understanding it. Faruqi's assertion is also correct for this reason: writing Umar without a *waw* for Amr Ayyar is a spelling mistake. This is because here, Amar originally comes from Amr; by adding a vowel to the silent *meem*, it became Amar on the meter of *Khabar*. Those who wrote Amar without a *waw* did not consider that it could be read as Umar (with a *pesh* on the *ain*).

In this scenario, the reader's mind will naturally go to Hazrat Umar (RA), and the name will be disrespected. Therefore, since the original name is Amr bin Umayya Dhamri, it should always be written as Amr (with a *waw*), and its correct pronunciation should be maintained in poetry as well. The *meem* should not be voweled in poetic meter. However, if this was done deliberately—voweling the *meem* in Amr and removing the *waw*—then obviously, nothing can stop this word from being read as Umar. This could be a deliberate mischief on the part of those using it. We cannot simply dismiss this as carelessness. It appears to be an anti-Sunni move. Why didn't the storytellers and poets do this with their own revered figures?

Now, regarding the claim that Amr Ayyar is a fictional character, this person is not fictional. There have been many people named Amr in Arabia, such as Amr bin al-Aas, Amr bin Saad, and similarly, Amr bin Umayya Dhamri. Many years ago, I read an early book on the Prophet's biography (*Seerat*) written by Allama Ali ibn Burhan-ud-Din Halabi (d. 1044 AH), the Urdu translation of which was published by Idara-e-Qasmiya, Kutub Khana Qasmi, Deoband, under the title *Seerat-e-Halabiya*. I consulted it again. In Volume 1, Part 8, page 72, the learned author writes:

Amr bin Umayya... was considered an extremely intelligent and perceptive man in Arabia. He was blind and used to give people news about unfolding events.

In Volume 2, Part 8, page 13 of the same book, it is stated:

The Holy Prophet (PBUH) used to send Hazrat Amr bin Umayya Dhamri as his envoy and representative in various important matters because he was a man of exceptional judgment and intelligence. It is obvious that the Prophet would have sent him only after he embraced Islam, and regarding his acceptance of Islam, it is known that he became a Muslim in 4 AH.

However, referencing the original source book, namely *Uyun al-Athar*, Allama Halabi writes that upon the proposal of Hazrat Amr bin Umayya Dhamri going to Mecca with another Companion, the Holy Prophet (PBUH) had said:

When Amr bin Umayya Dhamri reaches among his people, that is, in his own territory, be wary of him... Do not consider yourself safe from him. (p. 13)

In Volume 3, Part 9, page 52 of the same book, it is written:

This Amr bin Umayya Dhamri was an extremely cunning and clever man during the Days of Ignorance (to the extent that due to his cunningness and bravery, people used to call him a devil, and everyone feared him...)

In short, historical evidence regarding Amr bin Umayya Dhamri as a real person and his cunning and clever personality can be found in biographical (*Seerat*) literature. However, there is no denying that just as the storytellers colored the personality of Amir Hamza with their imagination, they similarly transformed the personality of Amr bin Umayya Dhamri into an unparalleled character through their imaginative power. Therefore, we can say that the Urdu *dastan* is a grand narrative of fictional events built upon a historical foundation. But we cannot outright reject its historical basis. As an example of this kind of literature, we can present the *masnavi* Yusuf Zulaikha.

Now, if we consider why Amr bin Umayya Dhamri specifically was introduced as an aide to Islam in the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza*, the answer to this can also be found in the *Seerat*. The Holy Prophet (PBUH) had made a treaty with the Banu Dhamra tribe. Allama Halabi writes in *Seerat-e-Halabiya*, Volume 2, Part 5, page 36, that:

The terms of the peace treaty with the Bani Damrah tribe were that neither party would wage war against the other. Furthermore, they would neither launch an attack against the Holy Prophet nor assist any enemy of the Muslims.

Allama Halabi has also provided a transcript of this treaty, which further states:

As long as there is water in the Sea of Sufah, this treaty shall be honored... and whenever the Holy Prophet (PBUH) calls upon them for assistance, they shall be obligated to come to his aid...

Naturally, since the Holy Prophet (PBUH) had established such a treaty with the Bani Damrah tribe, the *dastan* narrators capitalized on one of its members. Their historical knowledge effectively guided their imagination.

(13) The Origins of Dastan Narration: There are several traditions regarding this. Farooqi, in *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani* (Volume 2), under the heading The Fiction of the Dastan, has discussed all of them citing various references. In his own words:

Here, we will discuss a few traditions concerning the origins of the *dastan*. (A) *Qissa-e-Hamza*. Manuscript compiled by Jafar Sha'ar (1969), pages 3–4:

Translation (from Persian...): 'This tale is widely renowned across the Arab and non-Arab worlds, as well as throughout all Islamic lands, through various traditions. However, the most authentic account has reached us through Abu Talib and Abbas, the uncles of the Holy Prophet (PBUH)... The Messenger of Allah (PBUH) used to listen to this tale from Ibn Abbas. As the poet says:

*Muhammad jo keh harf-e-kun ke zahir hone ka ba'is the*

*Jab kaamon se dil tang ho jaate to Abbas se kehte*

*Keh ae nek khoo mere chacha ke halaat mein se koi hissa bayaan karo*

*Abbas us sarguzasht ko bayaan karte keh Hamza par daur-e-falak kyon kar guzra...*

[Muhammad (PBUH), who was the reason for the manifestation of the word 'Be' (Kun),

Whenever his heart grew weary of worldly affairs, he would say to Abbas:

'O noble-natured one, narrate to me some account of my uncle's life.'

Abbas would then recount the tale of how the wheel of fortune turned for Hamza...]'

(B) *Rumuz-e-Hamza* (Mumbai, 1909), pages 2–3:

(Translation from Persian...): 'The *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza Sahib-e-Qiran* is a famous tale in both the Arab and non-Arab worlds, and it possesses many traditions. However, the most authentic is the one that has reached us through Hazrat Abbas (RA). He was the elder brother of Amir Hamza and accompanied him everywhere at all times. Hamza Sahib-e-Qiran, Abbas (RA), and Abu Talib were the brothers of the Holy Prophet's (PBUH) esteemed father. Whenever the Holy Prophet felt weary, he would listen to this tale from Hazrat Abbas.

*Muhammad jo keh harf-e-kun ka ba'is the*

*Jab dunya-e-doon se dil tang ho jaate to Abbas se kehte*

*Keh ae nek khoo mere chacha ke halaat mein se koi hissa bayaan karo*

*Abbas us sarguzasht ko bayaan karte keh Hamza par daur-e-falak kyon kar guzra*

*Is liye ae momin-e-paak deen, ab tum bhi Hamza ke baare mein keh un ka koi saani na tha*

*Kuchh hikayaat suno...*

[Muhammad (PBUH), who was the reason for the word 'Be' (Kun),

Whenever his heart grew weary of this lowly world, he would say to Abbas:

'O noble-natured one, narrate to me some account of my uncle's life.'

Abbas would then recount the tale of how the wheel of fortune turned for Hamza.

Therefore, O believer of pure faith, you too should now listen to some tales

About Hamza, for he had no equal...]'

(C) *Zubdat-ul-Rumuz* (1693), Folio 1, Page 2:

(i) Translation (from Persian...): 'Following the martyrdom of the Lion of the Battlefield (Amir Hamza), whenever the Master of the Universe (PBUH) happened to pass by his uncle's house, the noble women of Arabia residing there would lament, vividly recounting the battles and valor of that master of combat (Amir Hamza). Hearing these words, the Leader of the Righteous (PBUH) would sometimes find it fitting to pause and stay there for a while. The narrator of this extraordinary account is Umar [sic] bin Umayya Zamri [sic], who is counted among the esteemed courtiers and men of wit. For a long time, this precious pearl remained hidden and concealed within the land of Arabia. When Maulana Masood Makki, one of the most eloquent men of Arabia, got hold of the threads of these profound words, he made some additions to them. During that era, people harbored inappropriate sentiments against the revered figures (the Companions? the Ahl-e-Bait?). Observing this situation, he deemed it best to present a brief portion of this tale to the public every day, hoping that it might deter the masses from such reprehensible behavior...'

(ii) 'Furthermore, some believe that one of the Abbasid caliphs was afflicted with meningitis (*sarsam*), which could not be cured by any remedy. Consequently, a group of people set about compiling this book. These individuals, who were among the greatest physicians of the Abbasid caliphs, devised this tale. Some of them would read it day and night in the service of that powerful monarch, recounting these epic struggles, until the fortunate ruler was finally cured of his illness...'

(iii) 'Moreover, most experts of the craft assert that this wondrous tale was brought into existence in the Persian language by Maulana Abu al-Ma'ali Nishapuri and Mulla Jalal Balkhi, who were the leading masters of their time and possessed complete mastery over this art. They adorned this narrative with the garment of existence, while Maulana Sultan Hussain Mushtaqi, one of the greatest storytellers, revised and corrected the tale from its very beginning up to the capture of Iraj...'

It is quite easy to reconcile these various traditions, but that is unnecessary here. The real issue stems from Farooqi's assertion. He states:

It must always be borne in mind that just as the characters of Amir Hamza and Amar Ayyar bin Umayya Zamri are (with the exception of a few minor details) entirely fictional and ahistorical, similarly, wherever the Last Prophet (PBUH) is mentioned in the *dastan*, it is also ahistorical and bears no connection to the religion of Islam or the Prophet's biography. (*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol. 3, p. 234)

This implies that the tradition of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) listening to the exploits of Hamza is entirely fabricated. However, it is not inconceivable that the Prophet (PBUH) would have liked to hear accounts of his late, martyred uncle, and that he might have listened to them, even if only on a rare occasion. After all, he (PBUH) used to listen to accounts of travels and battles with great interest. It is possible that his listening to these very accounts later laid the foundation for the extensive tradition of *dastan* narration. And Allah knows best. In the Urdu translation of *Seerat-e-Halabiya* (Volume 2, Part 9, Page 69), it is recorded:

Hazrat Hamza's killer, Wahshi, later embraced Islam. During the Conquest of Mecca, when the Muslims took control of the city, Wahshi fled to Taif. Later, when the people of Taif presented themselves before the Holy Prophet (PBUH) to accept Islam, Wahshi accompanied them to convert as well... Wahshi recounts, 'After that, I encountered the Holy Prophet only once, when I stood before him (PBUH) and bore witness to the truth and righteousness. He asked, Are you Wahshi? He then inquired, How did you kill Hamza? I then narrated the entire incident to him...'

These sentences from this ancient biographical text (*Seerah*) clearly show that the Prophet (PBUH) personally asked the killer about the martyrdom of Amir Hamza. The killer described how he had struck the blow and taken his life, and the Prophet (PBUH) listened to this account. This much connection to the *Seerah* is sufficient. The *dastan* narrators (storytellers) did not merely spin tales out of thin air. A story only gains traction when it has some basis in reality. Every student of literature knows that ancient Arabia also had public gathering places (*chaupals*) where storytelling took place. Although the Prophet (PBUH) did not frequent these gatherings, he remained well-informed about current events and incidents. His appreciation for the poetry of Hazrat Hassan bin Thabit (RA) also proves that he looked favorably upon the impactful and vivid use of narrative. Blending imagination with factual events is not merely a characteristic of literature; it is also a trait of human nature to accept such embellishments, and this is likely the very reason literary masterpieces flourish. There is no doubt that the Urdu *dastan* is fundamentally Shia literature and a masterpiece of Shia imaginative flight. However, it also possesses a historical foundation. For this reason, when I noticed that certain characters were named Farooq and Noman, I felt it might contain an element of disparagement toward Sunnis. Farooqi has pointed out that:

There are two characters belonging to the forces of evil whose name is 'Farooq.' (*Homan Nama*) ... A non-Islamic chieftain is named 'Farooq,' and his trickster (*ayyar*) is named 'Noman.' (*Tilism-e-Noor Afshan*) (S. Sh. S. A. p. 275)

The *dastan* narrators were highly skilled at inventing all sorts of names. If only the evil and non-Islamic characters had not been named Farooq, and the trickster not named Noman.

(2)

Listening to and telling stories is inherent to human nature. The martyrdom of Hazrat Amir Hamza (RA) was undoubtedly a heart-wrenching event of such magnitude that people would not have forgotten it for a long time. In connection with this martyrdom, other events from Hazrat Hamza's life must have also been recounted among Muslim men and women. However, its formal inception began with the dawn of the Abbasid era, as indicated by the *dastan* narrators. The reasons they have provided are not far-fetched either. (See number 13, The Origins of Dastan Narration.) The differences and multiplicity of these traditions can be easily reconciled. For instance, to counter the Umayyads' taunts and mockery directed at the Ahl al-Bayt (the Prophet's family), the eloquent speakers of the Abbasid era presented Hazrat Amir Hamza as a hero and narrated his virtues among the masses.

Certain religious elders and wise men also utilized this narrative for the purification of the heart and the strengthening of faculties, because specific recitations and remembrances undoubtedly have an effect on the mind and body. Then, as time progressed, the literary significance of storytelling also became apparent. In all the regions where the Abbasids gained dominance and/or where Alid and Fatimid rule was established, the tales of Amir Hamza were used to instill a new zeal, fervor, and a fresh socio-political consciousness among Muslims. Under the guise of creative narrative, imaginary events and incidents began to be introduced, and the accounts of the great figures of their respective worlds came to be known as *dastans*.

It is said that Dastan or Dastan was the title of Zal, the father of Rustam. Zal was born with white hair, which is why he was named Zal, meaning old man. However, his title *Dastan* became famous because these words also carried the meanings of fame, greatness, and majesty. Since the word *Zal* also implies elderliness and greatness, the title *Dastan* was highly appropriate in this context. Most likely, the fundamental meanings of *dastan* are indeed fame, awe, majesty, and greatness, as is evident from this couplet by Ferdowsi:

منم کردہ ام رستم داستاں وگر نہ یلے بوددرسیستاں

[Manam karda-am Rustam Dastan / Wagar na yalay bood dar Sistan]

(It is I who made Rustam a legend [Dastan], / Otherwise, he was just a warrior in Sistan.)

It is also quite clear that the word *Dastan* contains the connotations of physical strength and formidable power. However, for lengthy, sprawling, and complex tales featuring events and characters that embodied greatness, majesty, and fame in every respect, the word *dastan* gained currency. Later, epic chronicles (*Shahnama*s) based on grand events and larger-than-life characters also began to be called *dastans*. In other words, these secondary meanings were later incorporated metaphorically into the primary meaning. Since kings were considered the shadow of God on earth (*Zill-e-Ilahi*), it was believed that bizarre and supernatural events could manifest through them or their armies. Consequently, supernatural elements became a defining characteristic of the *dastan*. Now, once supernatural elements are allowed into a narrative, they cannot be restrained. That is to say, they have no limits; they can do anything, anywhere, at any time. However, the creator of the narrative does have limits. If asked to depict these elements on a stage, it would be exceedingly difficult for them. Therefore, the narrative of a *dastan* is oral and verbal, not performative or practical. Because it lacks physical enactment and relies solely on the spoken word, it is not bound by real life; rather, it is the unbridled expression of a free and autonomous imagination. Hence, in a *dastan*, the expression or the narrative itself holds the utmost importance.

When we say that a certain person has given a certain statement (*bayan*), what does that mean? We generally understand that a *bayan* is the content formed by the style adopted to express a situation, thought, or opinion. This is regardless of whether the underlying intent is fully clarified within it or not. When a sequence of expression is established by creating a loose or deep connection between several such units of statements, it is called a narrative (*bayan-iya*). Naturally, in this case, such a narrative would be expected to have a beginning and an end. That is, the narrative began, continued, and reached its conclusion. The point has been fully made. However, Farooqi has used the term narrative in a much broader sense:

Narrative is the fruit of that grand and almost boundless mode of expression which we use to manifest an event, a condition, a state of being, or sometimes even a thought. In today's terminology, a coherent expression of thought or analysis regarding anything can also be called a 'narrative.' According to this definition, all concepts upon which we establish a system of thought or a system of action deserve to be called narratives. (S. Sh. S., 3, p. 13)

In this context, it is entirely possible to consider a series of incomplete statements as a narrative, which is the very beauty of *insha* (literary composition). Thus, it is highly likely that what we call narrative today was understood as *insha* in the past. *Insha* is our classical term. The person who crafted the narrative was called a *munshi*. The root word of *insha* is *nasha*, which means to create. Naturally, this involves creating a thought, establishing connections between ideas, generating argumentative force, producing beauty and impact, evoking meaning and mood, and even leaving certain gaps to cultivate an atmosphere of ambiguity. All of these were the essential attributes and requirements of *insha*, and the modern concept of narrative is built upon these very foundations. The difference between narration and description is identical to the difference between *bayan* (statement/narrative) and *wazahat* (explanation/description). The defining trait of *bayan* or narration is that it transforms any idea or thought into an event or occurrence. *Wazahat* or description is the subsequent stage. A narrative can be described, but a description cannot be narrated. The imaginative expression of one's inner thoughts highlights the significance of narration, particularly in a literary genre designed not to be read or seen, but to be heard.

For this reason, Shamsur Rahman Faruqi, in his study of the *dastan*, has accorded the utmost importance to its narrative structure. He argues that the *dastan* possesses the poetics of an oral narrative, which is fundamentally different from a written narrative. Even if a *dastan* was eventually written down, being written is not essential to its nature. Its primary connection is with listening. As long as there is an audience to listen, writing it down is entirely unnecessary. However, if people are willing to listen to a written version, or if they simply wish to read it at their leisure in solitude, there is no harm or degradation of the genre in committing it to paper. Yet, it must be written exactly as it is spoken. In other words, the conventions of oral speech will apply to it, and readers must keep this in mind whenever they read it.

Faruqi has offered an excellent discussion on the poetics of the *dastan*, particularly regarding its oral narrative. For theoretical debates on the *dastan*, the first volume of *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-qirani* (the introduction of which has already been provided) is highly useful. He states:

Narrative is the combination of two elements. The first consists of the circumstances and events we encounter through the narrative, and the second is the narrative text or speech through which we become aware of those events and circumstances.

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-qirani*, Vol. 1, p. 52)

In other words, the circumstances revealed through a statement constitute a narrative, and the statement constructed around a circumstance is also a narrative. On the surface, these appear to be two sides of the same coin. However, they contain a subtle distinction between oral and written narratives. Faruqi makes this point in light of Boris Tomashevsky’s concepts of *Sujet* (plot/narrative structure) and *Fabula* (story/raw material). For our purposes, the key takeaway is that we can distinguish between oral and written narratives through this framework. If someone narrates an incident to us, that incident forms a narrative within our imagination. This occurs due to the oral narrative. Conversely, if someone hands us a piece of writing detailing an incident, the text itself forms a narrative in our imagination. This is the effect of the written narrative. Essentially, when reading a written event, our imagination follows the text; when listening to a spoken event, our imagination directly pursues the event itself. It does not imitate an imitation; rather, it imitates the original. The event is the original (*asl*), and its narration is the imitation, which we can also refer to as the derivative (*far'a*). Interestingly, a narrative is formed only through the convergence of these two elements: the event and the narration, or the original and the derivative.

If one asks why the narration is considered an imitation or a derivative, the answer is that while a narration relies on words, silence can also serve a communicative purpose. Therefore, words become supplementary. If a person comes and stands before you without uttering a single word, their silence still conveys a great deal. As Ghalib says:

*Nashv-o-numa hai asl se Ghalib furoo ko*

*Khamoshi hi se nikle hai jo baat chahiye*

[Derivatives draw their growth from the origin, O Ghalib;

The very words we seek emerge from silence itself.]

The reality, then, is that a written narrative is bound by words, and those words themselves become shackled once confined to writing. In contrast, an oral narrative is free from such rigid conditions and constraints. Therefore, it offers immense freedom and boundless possibilities.

It has been discussed in Western literature that a novelist does not know their reader. A *dastan-go* (storyteller), on the other hand, sits face-to-face with their audience. Even while narrating the *dastan*, the storyteller continuously gauges the mood, intellect, and awareness of the listeners. Through techniques such as pacing the story, emphasizing and repeating points, modulating the intensity of events, employing dramatic declarations, engaging in dialogue, embracing ambiguity, introducing supernatural elements, and altering tone and physical gestures, the storyteller constantly shapes the audience's impressions. This dynamic is impossible in a novel because the reader is not physically present before the novelist. Furthermore, the very act of writing implies that the text is meant for a literate audience; an illiterate person cannot read it. For a *dastan*, however, the literacy of the audience is irrelevant. The storyteller's live audience can consist of both the literate and the illiterate.

Consequently, the levels of the storyteller's oral literary expression constantly shift, adapting in real-time to suit the audience. The art of the novel and the short story is entirely deprived of this characteristic. It is self-evident that the *dastan* of the past and the novel of today both belong to the realm of storytelling, which is why both are classified as narrative literature. However, the fundamental difference in their nature is stark. Because of this distinction, Faruqi argues that it is incorrect to link the novel to the tradition of the *dastan*. He writes:

It is entirely incorrect to claim that the *dastan* can be considered an early form of the novel, or that the *dastan* played any role in the evolution of the novel.

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-qirani*, Vol. 1, p. 64)

What Faruqi is essentially arguing is that:

To determine which of two genres is superior, one cannot establish a single genre as the standard or normative benchmark. (Ibid., p. 54)

When critically examining the *dastan*, our critics generally evaluate it through the lens of the novel. Since the novel is a product of the modern era, they tend to label the *dastan* as an early, primitive form of the novel. When making such claims, they inherently assume the superiority of the novel. Through his research, Faruqi has concluded that both genres possess entirely distinct artistic requirements. Therefore, the *dastan* cannot be deemed inferior to the novel, nor can the novel be considered superior to the *dastan*. It is entirely possible that in certain respects, a novel may feel closer to life and more appealing to us; however, it is equally possible that in other respects, a *dastan* may resonate more deeply with life and prove to be the superior experience.

In the first part of his essay, The Poetics of the Dastan (*Dastan Ki Sheriyat*), Faruqi outlines sixteen key points. I will mention only a couple of them here. The aspect Faruqi emphasizes above all else is the oral narrative of the *dastan*. He states:

The *dastan* is an oral medium. Even if it is written down and published, its primary purpose remains oral recitation. It is written as though it were being spoken aloud. The dynamics of a literary work composed for the purpose of oral narration are entirely different from one written to be read—whether silently or aloud—by an individual.

(S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 72)

Regarding the poetics of the *dastan*, his second point is that classical Urdu prose conventions did not employ punctuation. He states:

The dynamics of a text written without the concept of punctuation are entirely different from one written with punctuation in mind. (Ibid., p. 82)

His third point is that characterization in *dastans* has traditionally followed a synchronic approach rather than a diachronic one. However, in principle, neither style is superior to the other (p. 82), and neither method is better or worse (p. 83). Characterization in *dastans* aligns with the narrators' worldview. He explains:

The *dastan's* worldview posits a static universe. In this universe, God intervenes and exerts influence at will. This divine intervention can occur directly or through human agency, but any resulting changes are temporary and illusory. The overarching balance of the universe is always maintained. Everything remains in the place ordained for it since the beginning of time. Therefore, characters must inherently be synchronic; it is not necessary for a character to influence their circumstances, nor for circumstances to influence the character. (p. 83)

However, one might hesitate to fully accept this interpretation. I believe that *dastan* narrators kept their characters one-dimensional or synchronic because they had access to every conceivable type of human being in their surroundings. They faced no difficulty or hindrance in drawing upon human society to represent every shade of character. Otherwise, if they could portray multiple dimensions within a single figure like Amir Hamza, why could they not do so with other characters? By the time the era of the novel arrived, one could argue that a famine of men had occurred—meaning storytellers and writers could no longer find characters who naturally fit into a single, unvarying mold. The *dastan* presents a world teeming with diverse humans and creatures, offering ideal characters, each embodying distinct traits.

This may well have been a deliberate technical strategy: by doing so, the audience would project the good traits onto themselves and the evil ones onto others. Occasionally, this would also provoke the unsettling thought of attributing goodness to others and evil to themselves. This dynamic would heighten the potential for creative tension within the art of *dastan* narration, as the audience indirectly became part of the story. In this scenario, by juxtaposing their personalities against one another, they would evaluate themselves as components of the Establishment, questioning their own attitudes toward the ruling class. It must be clearly understood that the *dastan* narrators aimed to keep the public sympathetic to the administration. Furthermore, if the Best of Creators has fashioned beings that represent absolute good and absolute evil, why shouldn't human art feature characters who are entirely one-dimensional in their specific attributes? In the dominant Muslim society of that era, portraying disbelief as absolute evil and Islam as the embodiment of good carried additional implications. For instance, Abu Lahab is an absolute—he is what he is! But Abu Sufyan is not an absolute; he transitioned to good, while the former remained evil. (These specific names, of course, are not used in the *dastans*).

I have merely offered these examples to clarify my point. We believe that there is good in every human being, but its ultimate validation rests upon faith in the Prophethood of Muhammad (PBUH). Were this not the case, the good deeds of disbelievers would not be rendered void. Operating under this paradigm, *dastan* narrators were compelled to present distinctly separate characters for good and evil. Therefore, given the era and this ideological framework, that specific method of characterization was the most appropriate. Additionally, characters in a *dastan* served as manifestations of the plot's events. They did not offer their own personal perspectives or internal psychological states, because the audience was interested in the unfolding incidents, not in the internal conflicts and emotional conditions of the characters. If a writer today were to pen a *dastan* while ignoring this method of characterization, they would severely undermine the very essence of the art form. By prioritizing the internal conflicts and emotional states of characters, modern fiction has become a representation of the *individual*. In contrast, by prioritizing events, the *dastan* narrators made their tales a representation of *life itself*—a phenomenon with no bounds or limits. Faruqi writes:

In terms of its fundamental concept, the *dastan* is anti-mimetic (meaning it does not imitate or directly translate life); however, in terms of its specific details, the *dastan* is indeed mimetic.

These details belong to real life and include the interactions of the characters. Life itself cannot be perfectly imitated, for it reveals a new facet at every moment. The narratives of the *dastan* storytellers evolved so constantly that we cannot view any single event as a direct imitation of life. However, the details of those events are drawn directly from life, which is why they appear mimetic—and this is largely because a character's actions are driving them. Viewed from this perspective, even one-dimensional characters act in accordance with the demands of the moment. This means that, despite the static worldview of the genre, these characters possess immense agency and appear remarkably synchronic. In this sense, they are no less significant or inferior to the complex round characters of modern literature.

In the second part of *Dastan Ki Sheriyat* (The Poetics of the Dastan), Faruqi makes the following point:

Even if an oral narrative is transcribed, its text possesses no absolute finality, nor, in principle, can any single version of its text be deemed superior to another. (S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 121)

The reason for this is that the *dastan* has existed through various distinct traditions and has been told by numerous narrators. Guided by these traditions, each narrator recounted multifaceted events in their own unique way. In other words, they did not merely imitate; they created. We can understand this through the lens of modern literature by looking at the short stories written about the Partition riots. The plots of these stories are different. The characters are different. The authors are different. Their *sujet* (narrative structure) is different, and their *fabula* (chronological story) is different. Therefore, which one can claim absolute finality or superiority? Each is definitive and supreme in its own right.

It is a limitation of our times that we must understand oral narratives through the lens of written ones. Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s discussion of *Sujet* and *Fabula*, drawing on Boris Tomashevsky, can equally apply to written narratives, as we have seen in the short stories written on the theme of riots. Faruqi writes that the events and circumstances explicitly narrated constitute the *Sujet* (the plot or core subject), while all the underlying situations and events that shape this core subject form the *Fabula* (the complete story), which remains hidden. Based on this distinction, Faruqi provides several examples and concludes:

Even if the *Sujet* concludes, the *Fabula* does not. In other words, the possibility of the *dastan* continuing always remains.

This is precisely where oral narrative distinguishes itself from written narrative. For instance, after reading a short story based on the riots, there is neither the possibility nor the demand for the *Fabula* to continue. In the third volume of *S. Sh. S.*, Faruqi explains the concept that a *dastan* never ends in the following manner:

A *dastan* never ends... This statement has two meanings. First, from the perspective of the narrator, a *dastan* never concludes; the narrator can prolong it as much as they desire. They can continuously add new events to it. Furthermore, every *dastan* constantly generates new narrators, and each narrator is, in fact, the creator of their own *dastan*. It is in this sense that a *dastan* is unending... 'A *dastan* never ends.' The second meaning of this statement is that the characters in a *dastan* have exceptionally long lifespans. They often mature in their very childhood and remain highly active for a long time. Old age arrives, but it does not overpower them. The passage of time in the world of the *dastan* differs from the ordinary world in the sense that time does not exert the same effect on it as it does in our world.

(*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 3, pp. 77-78)

After reading this explanation, the question arises: what is the reason behind a *dastan* never ending, and how is it kept going? When I sought an answer to this, I found it in Faruqi’s work, where, referencing Tzvetan Todorov, he states: Story Equals Life. As Faruqi points out, Todorov established this premise in the context of the *Arabian Nights* (*Alf Laila*), and Faruqi has applied this concept to Urdu *dastans*.

It is true that the end of the story means the end of the event, and the end of the event means the end of the story. And if the story ends, life ends. Therefore, as long as there is life, events will continue to occur. But how can they be—and how are they—sustained within a narrative? The answer is that once we accept that the story is life itself, the acts of telling and listening to stories will never vanish from human nature. Humanity's narrative power will continue to manifest its essence. Without it, a person cannot truly live, and even if they manage to survive, they cannot achieve cultural progress. It is often said that humans cannot keep a secret, and their food does not digest until they have shared it with others. This is, however, a negative framing. The positive aspect is that this is precisely how humans learn about one another and how culture is formed. Thus, it is proven that to narrate is equal to living. (*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 1, p. 124)

The excerpt above mentions the passage of time in the world of the *dastan*. Faruqi has also written:

The passage of time in a *dastan* is determined by which character first appears in which tale... Therefore, the most reliable method of measuring the passage of time in a *dastan* is to observe its permanent characters—when they first appeared and how long they remained present. (*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 3, p. 78)

However, this does not shed any light on the concept of time as it appears within the *dastan*. I believe that just as *dastan*-narrators bridged the heavens and the earth to establish the concept of a single cosmic realm—that is, the unity of space—they similarly discovered a duration of time that we might call the concept of the unity of time. Although Faruqi believes that:

The *dastan* is not something outside our world. Under normal circumstances, our own concept of time applies to it. (*Ibid.*, p. 78)

My submission, however, is that the way *dastans* are structured—breaking chronological continuity by moving events forward and backward—suggests an underlying concept that time itself is subservient to the *Sahib-e-Qiran* (the protagonist / Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction). Time revolves in such a way that it produces outcomes according to the desires of the *Sahib-e-Qiran*. Whether the outcomes manifest first and the events occur later, or the events happen first and the results appear later, the *dastan*-narrators were well aware of the tradition of *Rij'at-e-Shams* (the returning of the sun) after the end of the *Asr* (late afternoon) time. Likely keeping this example in mind, they established the concept that, by the will of the *Sahib-e-Qiran*, time can shift backward and forward, thereby altering the sequence of events and their outcomes. This is why narrators possess the justification to recount earlier events at a later stage, signaling that the story within the story has not yet concluded. The proof of this lies in the fact that while the events in the *dastan* belong to the past—and thus everything should belong to the past—contemporary life is also present within it.

In the second part of *Dastan Ki Sheriyat* (The Poetics of the Dastan), Faruqi points out another aspect: elements that are not strictly necessary to the *dastan*—such as naming a contemporary poet and presenting their *ghazal*, referencing one's own century (the thirteenth century Hijri), or mentioning banking houses—are also found within the narrative. Faruqi raises the question:

Why does the *dastan*-narrator so audaciously introduce references to contemporary life and the contemporary world into his *dastan*? (*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 1, p. 131)

Faruqi has provided several answers to this. For instance, he suggests that the audience had no objection to this incongruity (*shutar-gurbagi*) in the *dastans*, and that the world of the *dastan* can seamlessly merge with our own world, among other reasons. However, the use of the word incongruity (*shutar-gurbagi*) also reveals that Faruqi did not pay adequate attention to the *dastan*-narrators' concept of time. In my view, this characteristic of the *dastans* stems from the narrators' concept of pure duration (*douran-e-khalis*), and calling it an incongruity is inappropriate. Because if we label this as an incongruity, then the intervention of jinn, demons, and fairies in our world would also have to be categorized under the exact same incongruity.

At this juncture, we should also consider what the true justification for this vast world of the *dastan* might be, and why it exists. We know that besides this world we live in, there are many other worlds. Besides humans, there are many other creatures. We share our existence with numerous other social beings. Regardless of their animal nature, as social animals they live alongside humans, and humans, as social animals, live alongside them. It is as if, from chickens to elephants, there exists a single family, and man is the master and head of this household. Similarly, there is the realm of jinn and fairies. Man is capable of dealing with this world as well. Through his knowledge and wisdom, he subdues even snakes and lions, taming them and making them a part of his life. There are ants, mice, and cats in our homes; they cause harm, yet man is not afraid of them. Even knowing that jinn could be hiding in their guise, he remains unafraid. Rather, if they resort to demonic mischief, man overcomes them through his ingenuity. He can track down the hideouts of bloodthirsty bandits in dense forests and take action against them. He can reach Mount Qaf. In short, wondrous and extraordinary examples of conquest lie entirely within human power.

This very vastness of our real world is the true justification for the vastness of the *dastan’s* world. If this world of the *dastan* did not exist, we might never have truly gauged the boundless expanses of our own world in our entire lifetimes. But it is not merely that the *dastan* narrators (*dastan-gos*) have presented a vast and kaleidoscopic vision of life and left it at that. No, behind this lies their underlying concept of space (*makan*). This universe is one. We have divided it into different countries, distinct regions, specific characteristics, and spatial boundaries. Otherwise, the purpose behind the creation of every realm is one. It was on this basis that Ghalib composed the second line of his couplet:

Gar do sad aalam buwad, khatam yaki st

[Even if there are two hundred worlds, the Seal (Creator) is one]

This is the concept of the unity of space. Iqbal said:

Zamana ek, hayat ek, kainat bhi ek

[Time is one, life is one, and the universe too is one]

Thus, he presented the concept of the unity of time, space, and life—and this is the core concept of Islam. The *dastan* narrators have depicted the glory of the true religion, that is, Islam. This depiction would remain incomplete without a practical demonstration of this concept. Man can set foot anywhere. He can bring back news from anywhere. The entire universe is under his subjugation.

Hum ne dasht-e-imkan ko ek naqsh-e-pa paya

[We found the desert of possibilities to be but a single footprint]

and

Aalam-e-bashariyat ki zad mein hai gardoon

[The heavens are within the striking distance of the human realm]

These are not merely lines of poetry, but rather experiences and observations rooted in a specific worldview. Similarly, through their narratives, the *dastan* narrators establish the concept of a single, universal state, which aligns perfectly with the Quranic concept of the *Khalifatullah fil-Arz* (Vicegerent on Earth).

This represents a profound boldness in the narrative of the *dastan-gos*, one that guarantees this art form a rare literary reach. I consider this to be the greatest strength of the *dastan* as an intellectual endeavor. The *dastan* provides us with a vivid demonstration of man's power to transcend the constraints of time and space. If the *dastan* narrators did not firmly believe in the theory of the unity of time and space, our *dastans* would never have presented such extraordinary examples of the possibilities of human potential.

The third point Farooqi has made is that the chanting of battle cries (*na'ra-bazi*) has played a crucial role in the poetics of the *dastan*. In fact, one should say that the *dastan* narrators elevated these proclamations to the status of an art form. Farooqi states:

If the battle cry is considered a literary genre and the *dastan* narrators are declared its inventors, it would not be wrong. (S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 139)

Here, my submission is that the *dastan* narrators cannot be called the inventors of the battle cry, because such proclamations are already found in Ferdowsi's *Shahnameh*. For example:

Manizheh manam dukht-e-Afrasiyab

Barahna na dida tanam aaftab

[I am Manizheh, the daughter of Afrasiyab;

The sun has never seen my body bare]

Amir Hamza has raised similar battle cries, which clearly indicates that the crafters of his tale had already learned the art of the battle cry from Ferdowsi's *Shahnameh*. It is here that we can also conclude that *dastan* narration, despite being an art of oral storytelling, can adopt certain stylistic elements from written narratives. By written narrative, we mean written literature. If oral literature is transcribed, it is then absorbed into the body of written literature. In this regard, the literature of the *dastan* functions as written literature for us today.

After The Poetics of the Dastan, Farooqi has expressed his views on topics such as Oral Narrative, The Narrator, and The Audience. In The Poetics of the Dastan, he had discussed Oral Narrative briefly. Later, he explored Oral Narrative separately and in great detail across three sections, employing an enviable level of scholarly scrutiny. Similarly, such a detailed discussion regarding The Narrator and The Audience has been conducted for the very first time. The ultimate takeaway from all this is that, in our contemporary era, we cannot evaluate the *dastan* using the poetics of the novel; furthermore, an ignorance of the poetics of the *dastan* may leave us deprived of several fundamental principles of literary criticism.

In the art of storytelling, the physical presence of the listener is crucial to the formation of the art in many respects. An obvious and simple point is that while a tale is being narrated, the audience's reaction to eloquence, rhetoric, clarity, fluency, pauses, abrupt shifts, emphasis, rhetorical force, and battle cries continuously manifests itself. Accordingly, the *dastan* narrator modulates his expression, tone, pitch, intensity, lightness, generalization, specification, pacing, complexity, rhetorical crafting, linguistic accuracy, everyday idiom, scene-setting, and emotional impact. Not only this, but the narrator also reshapes his linguistic mastery, literary taste, creative ingenuity, plot construction, and scene-setting in real-time, relying on his memory and power of recall. Then, through his tone and physical gestures, he creates an atmosphere where both the narrator and the audience read each other's body language, engaging in a mutual exchange of influencing and being influenced. If considered from this perspective, the *dastan* is the finest narrative form—because the novel is the art of reading, drama is the art of watching, but the *dastan* is the art of listening.

In reading, a face-to-face encounter between the author and the reader is not necessary. In watching a play, the actor and the spectator are indeed face-to-face, but the performers are bound to imitate someone else according to a director's instructions. Therefore, they cannot express their own spontaneous reactions to the audience, and if the audience reacts, it largely goes unaddressed by the script. However, the narrator of a *dastan* sits directly in front of his audience. Thus, his narrative operates under a two-way influence, and its refinement and embellishment occur continuously from both sides. Obviously, in this dynamic process, both the narrator and the audience gain a clear sense of exactly where they stand in the cycle of affecting and being affected. Literature—whether poetic or prosaic, oral or written—is the art of language and expression, of word and meaning. For this, the successful communication of intended meaning and the beauty of its impact are highly essential. To demonstrate these practically, successfully, and instantaneously in front of a live audience is no easy feat.

This is why it is said that Dastan narration is not an art for the ignorant. It requires 'scholarly competence.' (*S.S.S.* Vol. 2, p. 170). Despite all their abilities, our *dastan-gos* (storytellers) generally remained apprehensive of their audiences. Their apologetic tone was not merely a display of humility; rather, considering the potential scholarly competence of their listeners, it carried a hidden significance. As Sheikh Tasadduq Husain wrote in *Bala Bakhtar*:

Sheikh Tasadduq Husain, the *dastan-go*, respectfully submits to his esteemed readers that... although his inadequacy and lack of scholarly competence stood in the way, the nobles, elites, and other prominent figures of the city, through their magnanimity, favored the narration of this faltering tongue... This lowly one makes no claims to the eloquence and rhetorical flair possessed by certain praiseworthy gentlemen.

(Reference: *S.S.S.* Vol. 2, p. 170)

In this section, I will now discuss only one of Faruqi’s essays. At the end of the second volume of *S.S.S.*, Faruqi has written an essay titled Dastan Ka Afsana (The Fiction of the Dastan). In it, he highlights two or three points of particular importance. The first is that, in the eyes of the *dastan-go*, reality or truth is simply whatever he has narrated. If there are multiple accounts of a single event, they represent the individual truths of the *dastan-gos*, forged through the power of their own imaginations, and they cannot be invalidated according to the artistic principles of the *dastan*. The logic behind this is that a tale is meant to continuously expand and generate new narratives, as it is connected to the events that unfold in life. Since life is in constant motion, the tale must also remain in motion. We have brought the novel and the modern short story to a standstill at various points, fixing their beginnings and endings. If this has happened, it is because the conventions of writing compelled us to do so. Otherwise, our fiction (based on real-life events) would also be profoundly imaginative and fluid. In the modern era, we no longer consider art based on oral narration to be literature, which is why we have imposed the constraints of the written word. The reality, however, is that expanding the narrative is inherent to the nature of a story. Whether we write it down or not, the story never truly ends; the example of short stories about the Partition riots was mentioned in the preceding lines.

Despite the vast number of stories written about those events, one still feels that much remains to be written. Thus, the tendency to continuously expand is not exclusive to the *dastan*. Rather, this is a characteristic of all narrative literature, and it directly impacts its concept of reality. Every storyteller—whether a traditional tale-teller or a modern short story writer—presents whatever they have narrated as the ultimate truth and reality. We cannot invalidate this, not merely based on the art of the *dastan*, but by the very nature of fiction itself. Faruqi paid absolutely no attention to these aspects.

Faruqi’s second point is that, initially, *dastans* were brief, as is evident from the performances of the *dastan-gos* during the early period of Urdu storytelling. However, the seeds of narrative expansion were already present within them. The proof of this lies in the fact that when a specific event is narrated in these shorter *dastans*, the core subject matter remains roughly equal in volume across different versions, but the number of words used to describe it varies significantly. Quoting two different accounts of the same event, Faruqi writes:

We observe that in this brief passage, Bilgrami has used approximately twenty-seven percent more words than Ashk, yet he has added nothing to the core substance. In truth, this exemplifies the principle that 'a story grows as it is told.'

From this, Faruqi concludes:

Even when an oral narrative is committed to writing, its tendency leans toward expansion, not reduction.

Using this conclusion, he provides a rationale for the existence of lengthy *dastans*. There is no harm in accepting this conclusion and its accompanying justification. However, he fails to explain the intrinsic value of expansion within an oral narrative, or how the alterations and shifts caused by this expansion impact literary truth. On the surface, observation suggests that spinning yarns and weaving tales within tales is the primary virtue of oral storytelling. Yet, upon deeper reflection, experience dictates that expansion is not always a virtue; sometimes, it becomes a flaw. If the practice of writing down oral narratives becomes commonplace, it is highly likely that this narrative expansion will yield negative consequences—and indeed, it did. The hostile atmosphere that eventually developed against the *dastan* was exacerbated by this very expansion. Therefore, expansion is not artistically beneficial in and of itself, but only when driven by narrative necessity. Consequently, the resulting shifts in the narrative directly affect its literary truth. Or rather, one should say that this transformation possesses a literary truth of its own.

The reason for this is that when we sit down to write something we have heard or read, we express it in our own words and through our own logic. We have all experienced this firsthand while writing examination papers: we reproduce the notes we studied with our own modifications and alterations. Even if all the students studied the exact same dictated notes and wrote their exams based on them, they receive different marks. It is certain, then, that through our individual linguistic engagement and communicative approaches, we inadvertently introduce a novel interpretation of the core meaning when answering a specific question. Examination papers invariably include the instruction: *Candidates are required to give their answers in their own words*. This directive is not merely an academic exercise in narrative construction. Rather, it reflects an inherent condition in the life of anyone who relies more heavily on words than on other mediums to communicate their inner thoughts.

Provide a *misra-e-tarah* (a pattern line of verse). Specify the rhymes. You may even dictate a few specific words to be used. Yet, you will observe that in the *mushaira* (poetry symposium), every poet will present the themes in their own unique way. In other words, despite using the exact words you provided, the resulting themes are no longer yours. Why does this happen? The reason remains the same: in a literary narrative, one cannot simply point a finger and declare that the ultimate truth lies exactly *here*. The narrative of a single subject expands and diversifies, and the resulting patterns are themselves representative of literary truth. Faruqi has unduly limited this phenomenon by restricting it solely to the art of the *dastan* and excluding written narratives.

Faruqi’s third point is that the Urdu *dastan* originated against a religious backdrop, but it later discarded these religious references, relying solely on historical contexts. Thus, in the truest sense, only now has the *dastan* fully transformed into fiction. (*S.S.S.* Vol. 2, p. 215). At the conclusion of his essay, he writes:

I believe it should now be abundantly clear how the *dastan*, by assuming the guise of 'history,' fully transforms into 'fiction.' (*Ibid.*, p. 216)

Faruqi's finding appears accurate. As lengthy *dastans* began to break free from the religious confines of much shorter tales, their imaginative realms expanded significantly, and their secular character became more pronounced. Faruqi has paid special attention to the point that Indian *dastans* are inherently secular. This is despite his acknowledgment that the fundamental theme of the *dastan* is to illustrate the glory of the true faith (*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 3, p. 186). Furthermore, true faith refers to Islam, and Islam specifically means Shia Islam (Ibid., p. 274). He writes:

Overall, Islam is certainly presented as the true faith while all other religions are deemed false. However, Gyan Chand's assertion that the *dastan* depicts Islam and Hinduism at war with one another is incorrect. There is no war between Hinduism and Islam in the *dastan*... (Ibid., p. 186).

It is true, however, that in the conflicts between various beings, victory belongs to those who possess divine grace. And the only beings deserving of this divine grace are those who believe in the oneness of God and the prophethood of Muhammad. There are, of course, many nations that believe in the hereafter or hold a distorted concept of prophethood, and even possess a corrupted concept of God. Yet, none of them receive God's help. When these groups clash with monotheists, seekers of truth, and the followers of the Final Prophet to achieve their own ends, they suffer crushing defeats. This can make it seem as though the *dastan* narrators have presented entirely one-sided outcomes. In reality, this was neither their intention nor their fault.

The *dastan* certainly features a battle between truth and falsehood, but the final outcome naturally favors the truth. For their part, the narrators have portrayed the forces of falsehood as formidable opponents capable of putting up a fierce fight. They have applied their soaring imagination just as vigorously to depict these antagonists. Therefore, we cannot accuse them of bias. The way they have depicted the influence of Hindu customs and traditions on Muslims further proves their impartiality. The truth is that they subordinated their own religious affiliations for the sake of India's political stability and social harmony. However, the narrative brilliance of the *dastan* lies in the fact that despite their unwavering faith in divine grace, the practical efforts of the Muslim protagonists never falter. They do not assume that simply because they are followers of God and His Prophet, and possess divine grace and unseen support, they are exempt from hard work. They do not expect their goals to be achieved through mere miracles. On the contrary, they strive to their utmost to achieve their objectives, taking immense risks and plunging headlong into danger.

Such a seamless blend of divine grace and human effort, and its effective execution, is nowhere to be found in modern fictional literature. This proves that the narrators intended to present to society the Islamic concept of reward being proportionate to effort. Simultaneously, they wanted to emphasize that outcomes depend just as much on divine grace and support as they do on human endeavor. Therefore, no human being can afford to be independent of unseen powers. Nor can one succeed by believing in a multitude of unseen forces. True success cannot be achieved by relying solely on divine grace, nor by relying solely on human action. To assume that the *dastan* depicts Islam and Hinduism at war with one another is entirely incorrect, contrary to what Professor Gyan Chand Jain believed.

It is also worth mentioning here that alongside magic and sorcery, the *dastan* prominently features false gods who also display immense power and capability. Ultimately, however, they are defeated. It is highly probable that in doing so, the narrators were drawing upon Quranic themes regarding those who make false claims to divinity and those who deny God. While these themes certainly depict a battle between belief and disbelief, this conflict cannot be painted specifically as a war between Hinduism and Islam. What the narrators have actually shown is that no power can succeed by opposing the Supreme Being—whether you call Him Allah, Almighty God, or Ishwar. However, there are certain conditions for attaining His help. The fundamental point is that everyone desires success, whether they are Muslim, Hindu, or belong to any other community. To illustrate this, the narrators presented whatever path seemed most appropriate and logical within their own intellectual framework, without ever resorting to preaching. They wove such intricate webs of events—both major and minor, plausible and highly improbable—and employed such vivid coloring and soaring imagination that they successfully conveyed their underlying philosophy while simultaneously achieving a masterpiece of literary artistry.

(3)

Urdu critics have evaluated and critiqued the *dastan* from various perspectives. Their assessments consist partly of words of praise and partly of an indictment. Faruqi has summarized the words of praise into eleven points in the first volume of *S. Sh. S.* (pp. 62–64), and has laid out the indictment across twelve points. Caught between these two extremes, he expresses his own views with a sense of regret and embarrassment:

I must say with regret and embarrassment that the criticism of the *dastan* I have come across so far is largely childish, superficial, and entirely misses the point. (p. 64)

This regret and embarrassment likely stems from the fact that, according to Faruqi, we are generally unaware of the fundamental issues that ought to be addressed in *dastan* criticism (p. 64). What are these issues? Let us hear them in Faruqi's own words:

(1) The *dastan* creates a new kind of world. In terms of its details, this world is mimetic, but in its essence, it is anti-mimetic. No other literary genre can equal it in this quality; in fact, none even comes close.

(2) The *dastan* is an extraordinary feat of the imagination. It attempts to push us to the absolute limits of both language and narrative, and it frequently succeeds.

(3) The forty-six volumes of the Naval Kishore edition of the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* represent the ultimate (and, as far as Urdu is concerned, the first) great masterpiece of the art of oral storytelling. There is scarcely a technique of oral narration that cannot be found here. It is, in the truest sense, a vast treasure house of oral narrative.

(4) The forty-six volumes of the Naval Kishore edition of the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* articulate the Indo-Islamic worldview with immense power and expansiveness. This *dastan* is equally a vast treasure house of the Indo-Islamic worldview.

He subsequently writes:

I believe that the four points mentioned above have never been discussed in our criticism of the *dastan*. (*S. Sh. S.*, Vol. 1, p. 65)

These observations appear in the first chapter, The Poetics of the Dastan... 1, in the first volume of *S. Sh. S.* In the same volume, the final (eleventh) chapter is titled Critics of the Dastan. Its opening sentence reads:

Gyan Chand can be considered the most useful critic of the *dastan*.

This very first sentence creates a sense of confusion. If the four points cited above were never discussed even in Gyan Chand's criticism, then how can he possibly be deemed a useful critic?

Faruqi has dragged Raz Yazdani into this unnecessarily. How could the poor fellow withstand such a storm? He has certainly done some work on the *dastan*, but unlike Suhail Bukhari, Waqar Azeem, and others, he was never really mentioned. Regarding Suhail Bukhari, Waqar Azeem, and Rahi Masoom Raza, Faruqi states, The efforts of these individuals can hardly be elevated to the status of criticism. (p. 524)

Similarly, Suhail Ahmad, Shamim Ahmad, Muhammad Saleem-ur-Rehman, and others are also better left ignored. It is possible that, keeping the critiques of these very individuals in mind, Faruqi used the word childish for *dastan* criticism, because by merely pointing out symbolic aspects in the *dastan*, they perhaps did not accomplish any real critical work. However, I too concede that the *dastan* does possess symbolic dimensions. Anyway, Muhammad Hasan Askari and Jameel Jalibi are also merely nominal elder statesmen when it comes to *dastan* criticism, and it is possible that the word superficial in this context was meant for them. Therefore, they have all been given only a passing mention.

The real issue is that Faruqi wanted to evaluate Kaleemuddin Ahmad's criticism of the *dastan*, and phrases like childish, superficial, and far from the real issue, or whatever else one might call it, were actually directed at Kaleemuddin Ahmad. For this reason, he has devoted several pages to a critical examination of Kaleemuddin Ahmad's book, *Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan Goi* (The Urdu Language and the Art of Dastan Storytelling), and after a detailed analysis, he delivers this final verdict:

I have discussed Kaleemuddin Ahmad's criticism of the *dastan* at such length because, apart from him, no one has written such a detailed theoretical critique of the *dastan*, and it is upon the foundation of his ideas that almost all critics to date have built the edifice of their *dastan* criticism. Kaleemuddin Ahmad considered the *dastan* worthy of serious study and discussed its flaws and merits from a literary perspective. In other words, he made our *dastans* 'respectable.' Therefore, no amount of praise for him is enough. Had he engaged with the *dastan* genre in the light of its own poetics and its own tradition, his conclusions would have been even better. (S.S.S. 1, p. 524)

In other words, because he failed to consider the poetics and tradition of the *dastan*, his critical conclusions fell short. Why, then, the praise for him? Faruqi states, Kaleemuddin Ahmad... discussed its flaws and merits from a literary perspective. Placing the word flaws first might be a subtle hint that Kaleemuddin Ahmad noticed the flaws first—and indeed, he is prone to seeing flaws before anything else. Had he looked at the merits first, the flaws might not have even been visible. Nevertheless, the fact that he discussed it from a literary perspective is significant enough in itself. Because:

The real point of inquiry is to see which critics have treated the *dastan* as a literary text and studied it in accordance with its true importance and value; which of them have adopted a scholarly and responsible tone instead of a patronizing and pitying one; and which have articulated the fundamental attributes and characteristics of the *dastan* with reference to the *dastan's* own poetics. (Ibid., p. 535)

Faruqi has no doubt about whether Kaleemuddin Ahmad considers the *dastan* a literary text. However, he certainly doubts whether Kaleemuddin Ahmad adopts a scholarly and responsible tone instead of a patronizing and pitying one. Furthermore, he is entirely unconvinced that Kaleemuddin Ahmad articulated the fundamental attributes and characteristics of the *dastan* with reference to the *dastan's* own poetics. To understand the nature and extent of this doubt and uncertainty, and to grasp the true picture, it is necessary to examine what Faruqi said about Kaleemuddin Ahmad regarding the *dastan*, and what Kaleemuddin Ahmad himself said about the *dastan* in relation to the art of *dastan*-storytelling. To facilitate this, the views of both critics are presented in parallel below.

**Shamsur Rahman Faruqi**

(1) Mr. Kaleemuddin Ahmad makes no distinction between a text meant to be recited orally, a text written to be recited orally, and a text written for silent reading. Therefore, even if he uses the term *dastan-goi* (the art of *dastan* storytelling), he does not engage with its underlying implications. (S.S.S. 1, p. 503)

**Kaleemuddin Ahmad**

(1) A. Gathering 'twenty or twenty-five true friends who appreciate a *dastan*' to listen to a *dastan* is one thing, and studying it carefully in one's leisure time is another. When we read with deep thought, when we focus our full attention on something, we are not satisfied with superficial or immediate elements; we desire something more, and we bring technical and aesthetic standards into play. The *dastan-gos* (storytellers) were aware of this reality, and they treated *dastan-goi* artistically within its own limits. That is, they kept certain principles in mind. (*Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan Goi*, p. 28)

B. Whether it is a *kahani* (story) or a *dastan*, this is the art of 'telling.' The *dastan-go* speaks, and through his fascinating words, he captivates his listeners. His speech possesses flow, fluency, and simplicity. His language is natural. His tone and accent offer the charm of everyday conversation. The moment artificiality colors his words, their impact is lost. (*Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan Goi*, p. 146)

C. 'The teller has told it this way.' (*Bagh-o-Bahar*) 'The writer has written it thus.' (*Araish-e-Mahfil*) We can say that there is a difference between telling and writing in these two *dastans*. *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written; therefore, among its other flaws and limitations, it suffers from relatively greater ponderousness. (Ibid., p. 150)

**Shamsur Rahman Faruqi**

(2) In the presence of the novel, Mr. Kaleemuddin Ahmad saw no living necessity for the *dastan*, and overall, he had to apply the maxim of 'when water is found, dry ablution is void' to the *dastan* and the novel... Kaleemuddin Ahmad might like *dastans*, but he is unwilling to grant them any rank compared to written literature, such as the novel. In the text of the book itself, he repeatedly characterizes the *dastan*, the story, and storytelling as objects belonging to the imaginative world of 'savage' humans or 'young children.' (S.S.S. 1, pp. 503-504)

**Kaleemuddin Ahmad**

(2) A. Civilized man, too, like children and savages, is fond of stories and tales. That is, even after ascending the steps of civilization, man does not consider stories absurd and useless; rather, by altering their nature, he fulfills the needs of his civilized life... Stories and tales, despite their technical and literary flaws, are not things to be outright dismissed as unworthy of consideration... (Ibid., pp. 9-12)

B. *Dastan-goi* is an art, and despite its limitations and flaws, it is a fascinating art. It is not so worthless that we can outright ignore it. It is a pity that in the present age, practitioners and masters of this art are nowhere to be found. This art no longer holds the status of a living art in the literary world, and no other literary genre can serve as its substitute. (Ibid., pp. 31-32)

C. The drabness and dissatisfaction of our lives are undeniable. We lack access to a kaleidoscope of experiences; the desires that well up in the heart, the high ambitions the mind perceives, and the contentment the soul seeks are simply unattainable in this world... Therefore, we search for an escape, and this escape reveals to us an alternate life that we live simultaneously with our mundane twenty-four-hour existence. This alternate life is far more colorful, diverse, and fascinating... In *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, this alternate life smiles at us with all its marvels, subtleties, and splendors, inviting us to behold it. To search for the familiar elements of our ordinary world within this alternate realm is far from wise. (Ibid., pp. 38-39)

Before proceeding, let us examine Kalimuddin Ahmad’s excerpts to see whether Faruqi’s two points are present in them or not. If Kalimuddin Ahmad truly makes no distinction between an oral or written text meant for listening, and the written text of an oral or written narrative meant for close reading, then why does he assert that *dastan* narrators kept certain principles in mind, and that *dastan* narration is the art of telling rather than writing? Why does he state that *Bagh-o-Bahar* was spoken while *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written? Furthermore, it is a baseless accusation against Kalimuddin Ahmad to claim that he is unwilling to grant the *dastan* any status in comparison to the novel. He never, at any point, considered the *dastan* to be a mere substitute (like *tayammum*—dry ablution) and the novel to be the real thing (like *aab*—water). On the contrary, he explicitly stated that no other genre could ever replace the *dastan*. It is equally false to allege that Kalimuddin Ahmad relegated the *dastan*, the story, and the art of storytelling to the imaginative realms of savages or young children. The truth is that he used the terms story and *dastan* to convey distinct meanings. While he did associate basic tales and stories with primitive people and children, he argued that civilized man transforms the very nature of these tales to create the *dastan*, thereby fulfilling the needs of his own life. In other words, the fundamental nature of a *dastan* is entirely different from that of ordinary tales and stories.

Now, regarding the heavy emphasis Kalimuddin Ahmad places on the art of telling and Faruqi places on oral narrative—what is the true essence of this for us, who can only view it from a distance and who are already captivated by the spell of the written narrative? The reality is that, despite being an oral art form, the *dastan* has reached us in a written state; we can only read it. How can we possibly replicate the experience of those who listened to the *dastan* with their own ears? Take one example: there are lengthy *ghazals* embedded within the *dastans*. Faruqi writes:

It is possible (perhaps because they were recited melodiously) that the audience did not grow weary of them, but rather felt a kind of relief. (S. Sh. Vol. 3, p. 339)

There is certainly no doubt that whether poetry is sung melodiously or recited in plain speech (*taht-ul-lafz*), it leaves a profound impact on the listeners, as can still be observed in *marsiya* (elegy) recitations today. It is entirely possible that the original audiences did not grow bored, but instead found relief in them. However, today’s reader views these lengthy *ghazals* within a *dastan* as an unwanted interruption. The true art of an oral narrative reveals itself only in its oral delivery; it does not fully translate into reading. Conversely, the art of a written narrative stands on its own merits, and with each new reading, it illuminates the possibilities of hidden artistry. The moment *dastan* narrators wrote down and published their tales, they themselves placed them into the category of written narratives. The *dastans* were compiled in a fitting manner and with elegant prose. It is a different matter that, even while writing, the guiding principle remained that a *dastan* should be written in such a way that the text retains the pleasure of speech. Therefore, evaluating the *dastan* through the principles of written narrative cannot be considered entirely wrong. Faruqi himself has noted:

There is no doubt that we cannot consider orality the ultimate goal of civilizations. Sooner or later, every society journeys from orality toward literacy. (S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 270)

We do not view orality as a negative entity—and how could we, when this very orality has bestowed upon us the massive, voluminous treasure of the *dastan*? However, we cannot claim it is superior to the written word, either. In fact, writing is the greater of the two, because ultimately, even orality had to rely on the crutch of writing. Furthermore, a critic should not waste too much time investigating exactly how a work of art came into existence. The critic’s primary job is to evaluate the artistic merit of the specimen before them. For instance, our poets have likely composed many *ghazals* and couplets in the washroom, many in absolute seclusion, and many spontaneously in the midst of a gathering. If we dig deep enough, we might even discover exactly where a particular *ghazal* was composed—but does that mean we must factor those physical locations into our critical analysis? The fundamental point is this: regardless of the nature of the narrative, the circumstances under which it was created, its intended purpose, or the medium through which it was formed, the fact remains that it now exists before us in written form. Therefore, we cannot divorce it from the poetics of the written narrative.

If *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written, then so be it; it was written. However, it is not as though its heaviness (ponderous style) is solely the result of it being written. Similarly, if *Bagh-o-Bahar* was spoken, then fine; it was spoken. But it is not as though its fluency and flow are exclusively the result of it being spoken rather than written. Heaviness and fluency do not inherently depend on whether a text is written or spoken; these qualities can manifest in either medium. The real determining factor is the linguistic mastery and creative capability of the speaker or writer, and the specific stylistic mode they naturally favor. The audience and the readers are secondary in this regard. Viewed from this perspective, Kalimuddin Ahmad’s brief discourse on the art of telling remains two steps ahead of Faruqi’s lengthy debate on the oral narrative.

Faruqi states:

[Kalimuddin Ahmad] has nowhere explained the value of our *dastans* as works of literature. Are they literature or not? And if they are literature, where do they stand in the literary world? (S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 504)

Good heavens! If Kalimuddin Ahmad did not address these very questions, then what exactly was his criticism of the *dastan*? But wait—pick up his book, open it, and read:

A: You can easily gauge the overall standing of a *dastan* that begins in such a manner. In this *dastan* (*Tilism-e-Hoshruba*), the inclusion of realism is utterly impossible. Here, only the unbridled flight of imagination feels appropriate, and despite the complete absence of realism, it remains deeply engaging... It left a profound impact on other prose writers and poets. This fact alone is sufficient proof of its importance and utility.

(*Urdu Zaban Aur Fan-e-Dastan Goi*, p. 50)

B. 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' is not merely an entertaining *dastan*; there is no comparison between its value and the value of the stories we use to amuse ourselves in childhood. The profound meaning found in 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' is nowhere to be found in Urdu novels or short stories. (Ibid., p. 55)

C. In terms of value, the world of 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' falls far short of the world of Shakespeare's plays. There is no equivalence between the two. However, as far as this specific point is concerned (that the embodiments of virtue and the personifications of evil are distinctly separate in Urdu *dastans* and Urdu *marsiyas*... Mansoor), the status of 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' is higher than that of the *marsiyas*. The *marsiya* poet acts as a partisan. He highlights the virtues of a single group, and it is impossible for any flaw to exist within that group. There is partisanship in 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' as well, but this darkness is not as deep, and glimpses of other colors can also be seen here. (Ibid., pp. 56-57)

What these other colors are and how they manifest can be seen by referring to pages 42 to 47 of the book. Here, I have only presented the sentences relevant to Faruqi's objection. The truth is that Kalimuddin Ahmad has understood the literary value of the *dastan* better than any other critic. He has recognized it not merely as literature, but as great literature. Whether we accept his comparisons or not, he has, in his own way, established the place of these *dastans* in the literary world. He has positioned Urdu *dastans* below Shakespeare's plays, yet granted them a higher and superior status compared to Urdu novels, *marsiyas*, and *masnavis*. He based Chapter 13 of his book on a comparative study of the Urdu *dastan* and the *masnavis* Sihr-ul-Bayan and Gulzar-e-Naseem. In it, he notes that while Sihr-ul-Bayan is nominally a *dastan*, in terms of its *dastan*-esque qualities, it is very thin.

In this context, Gulzar-e-Naseem hardly even warrants a mention. However, perhaps solely out of the obligation of literary criticism, Kalimuddin Ahmad discussed its most widely acknowledged attribute: its brevity and comprehensiveness. Quoting its verses, he remarked that Naseem has turned a trivial matter into a full-blown tale, and that the amusing part is that it leaves no impact whatsoever. In other words, he had already declared that novels and short stories are no substitute for Urdu *dastans*, and here he stated that the renowned *masnavi* Sihr-ul-Bayan is very thin in its *dastan*-esque qualities. Given this, which Urdu genre possesses the mettle to stand in comparison against the *dastan*? My conclusion from Kalimuddin Ahmad's writings is that he considered the Urdu *ghazal*, *nazm*, *marsiya*, *masnavi*, *qasida*, *qita*, *rubai*, novel, short story, and drama all to be inferior to Urdu *dastans*. The cohesion, progression, culmination, proportion, harmony, flight of imagination, abundance of observation, breadth of experience, and artistic mastery of expression that he seeks in poetry and literature—he finds all of these abundantly and exclusively in Urdu *dastans*. And by stating that,

The corpus of *dastans* available in Urdu can unhesitatingly be presented alongside the *dastans* of any other language, and it can equally be said without hesitation that it is in no way inferior to the [*dastan*] corpus of any other language. (*Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan Goi*, pp. 203-204)

...he formally establishes the rightful place of Urdu *dastans*. What more could one ask for?

Regarding the distinction between the novel and the *dastan*, Faruqi states:

Firstly, the novel is a written narrative, whereas the *dastan* is an oral narrative. Secondly, by its very temperament, the *dastan* is a pre-modern genre. The worldview operating behind it is entirely different from the worldview operating behind the novel. Due to its oral nature, the narrative principles of the *dastan* differ vastly from those of the novel. Since both the novel and the *dastan* are narratives, they certainly share some elements in their poetics; however, the nature of this shared ground is by no means such that it establishes any organic relationship between the two.

Kalimuddin Ahmad ignores these fundamental points. The first two chapters of his book, *Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan Goi*, are titled What is a Dastan? and The Technique of the Dastan. This entire discussion is summarily wrapped up in twenty or twenty-one pages. Throughout this discourse, there is no mention that the *dastan* is an oral narrative, nor is it noted that the *dastan*'s principle of reality is entirely distinct from the principle of reality found in realism (or novel-writing). Kalimuddin Ahmad's mind is simply unwilling to accept (let alone accept, even confront) the idea that a text lacking the so-called realism of a Henry James novel, and which is filled with supernatural marvels, can still be serious, profound, and significant. (S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 512)

Faruqi presents his arguments in an expository manner, whereas Kalimuddin Ahmad does not stretch out his points. Speaking concisely or in detail is not, in itself, a defect or a virtue; it is merely a style of expression. Some writers adopt an explanatory approach, while others convey the essential points with brevity. Therefore, the real question is whether the relevant aspects of the topic were adequately addressed. When Kalimuddin Ahmad wrapped up What is a Dastan? and The Technique of the Dastan in twenty or twenty-one pages, did he fail to cover the essential points? It is unnecessary to provide further quotations here, but he too stated that the *dastan* is an art of storytelling and that the *dastan* genre is no longer alive. Faruqi uses the terms oral narrative and pre-modern genre. These concepts are no different from the art of storytelling and the *dastan* genre is no longer alive. Faruqi mentions the narrative principles of the *dastan*. Kalimuddin Ahmad, referencing another writer, also outlined the narrative principles of the *dastan*. For instance: First, the content should be elaborate and elegant. Second, aside from a well-crafted intent and an engaging theme, no frivolous or ear-grating subject should be included. Third, elegance of language and eloquence of expression. Fourth, swiftly comprehensible prose. Fifth, the prologue of the tale should carry the authentic flavor of past histories. (pp. 28-29) He then offered his own commentary:

It is evident from these sentences that *dastan*-telling, in addition to being an entertaining pastime, also possessed artistic merit, and not just anyone could become a *dastan*-teller. (p. 29)

So, what new point is Faruqi actually making?

In my view, Faruqi's new point is simply his accusation against Kalimuddin Ahmad—claiming that Kalimuddin does not consider supernatural marvels to be serious, profound, and significant. The reality is that the logical interpretation Kalimuddin Ahmad has provided for the supernatural elements in *dastans* actually elevates the seriousness, profundity, and significance of the genre considerably. Consider the following sentences:

These obstacles often arise from the interference of a supernatural being. And the truth is, this kind of element seems to dominate the *dastan*... One reason for this is that people in the past actually believed in these things. They believed that, in addition to this world and its inhabitants, God had created another world populated by beings that remain invisible to us but can reveal themselves at will. They can also interfere in our affairs... Furthermore, this alternate world and its inhabitants ignite the curiosity of the listeners or readers and stimulate their imagination, while simultaneously adding color, complexity, and a multifaceted interest to the *dastan*.

Moreover, when we see these jinns, *devs* (demons), and *paris* (fairies) talking, laughing, crying, loving, and hating just like humans—when we see them moved by feelings of sympathy and compassion or consumed by rage—we feel a certain sense of satisfaction and begin to trust our own emotions and thoughts more deeply... The point is that outright dismissing *dastans* simply because of this specific element is far from wise... If jinns, *devs*, and *paris* appear, let them appear, and observe what they do. They are similar to humans. Sometimes they create obstacles in the *dastan*, and other times they resolve difficulties... In short, all these elements are put to use and serve a variety of purposes. Sometimes they create narrative knots in the *dastan*, and then, with their help, those very knots are untangled. When the *dastango* (storyteller) encounters a narrative hurdle, instead of relying on natural means, he employs these unnatural, unexpected, or unimaginable devices—and he has every right to do so. (pp. 26-28)

Faruqi states:

Kalimuddin Ahmad also forgets that whether it is 'realism' or 'social realism,' these are merely modes of narrative. They do not constitute the entirety of narrative. And just as 'realism' is a narrative mode, basing a story on the extraordinary and the supernatural is also a narrative mode. He offers a psychological explanation for the genesis of the *dastan*. He states:

'Civilized man, much like children and savages, is fond of stories and tales. That is to say, even after ascending the steps of civilization, man does not consider stories to be absurd or futile; rather, by altering their nature, he uses them to fulfill the needs of his civilized life. Regardless, the similarity between a child and a savage is that both enjoy stories and do not weigh them on the scales of reason and criticism... When a child's mind progresses through the stages of development, or when a savage passes through the stages of civilization, he begins to feel that these stories are lacking something... Consequently, he invents and adopts other genres that quench this new thirst.'

Regarding the above excerpt from Kalimuddin Ahmad, one is compelled to say that it would be difficult to find a better example of patronizing, illogical, and intellectually lazy thinking. Analyzing this entire passage would only lead to unnecessary verbosity. Let us merely consider a few basic and obvious points. (S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 513)

If Faruqi had actually analyzed the entire passage, heaven knows what he would have done. Just by considering the obvious points, he manages to lay out seven points across five pages, splitting hairs the entire time. However, what is truly alarming for serious critical discourse is that he misrepresents Kalimuddin Ahmad's actual intent. If I were to start presenting examples of all these misrepresentations, it would indeed lead to unnecessary verbosity. Therefore, I will provide just one example of how he contradicts Kalimuddin Ahmad's true meaning.

By God, Kalimuddin Ahmad has absolutely never stated—neither in this excerpt nor anywhere else—that when a child/savage feels dissatisfied with stories, he invents and adopts new literary genres (Faruqi's fourth point, S. Sh. Vol. 1, p. 516). What he actually said was, when a savage passes through the stages of civilization, he begins to feel that these stories are lacking something... Consequently, he invents and adopts other genres... A savage passing through the stages of civilization implies that he is no longer a savage; he has become civilized. In other words, it is the *civilized man* who invents and adopts new literary genres. Clearly, the subject of Kalimuddin Ahmad's sentence is not the child/savage, but rather the civilized man. Yet, Faruqi cleverly swapped the subject and falsely attributed this claim to Kalimuddin Ahmad. This was a highly unfair move.

Whenever Faruqi criticizes others, he habitually throws in the word *murabbiyana* (patronizing). I have no idea what he actually means by this term. I consulted dictionaries anew, but I could find no justification for the use of *murabbiyana* here, nor could I comprehend what negative connotations this word is supposed to carry in a critical context. As for the accusation of Kalimuddin Ahmad's illogical and intellectually lazy thinking, I found neither illogic nor intellectual laziness in his aforementioned excerpt. Regarding children, Kalimuddin Ahmad wrote:

Just as he does not view stories in the light of reality and truth, similarly, he does not judge them on the touchstone of aesthetics and art... He is unconcerned with the logical soundness of beauty, proportion, structure, and development in their form. Therefore, reality and artistic beauty are generally absent from these stories.

After reproducing this excerpt, Faruqi delves into completely irrelevant matters, entirely ignoring Kalimuddin Ahmad's clear point. Kalimuddin Ahmad emphasized the element of interest in children's stories, arguing that a child is solely concerned with how interesting a story is, not with the critical standards of art. For some unknown reason, Faruqi brushes this point aside and needlessly labels Kalimuddin Ahmad intellectually lazy regarding his views on artistic beauty and reality. Setting aside children's stories—and the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is certainly not a children's story—nothing Kalimuddin Ahmad has expressed in his book regarding the art of *dastangoi* (storytelling) can be deemed an example of illogical or intellectually lazy thinking. Faruqi commits a further injustice by pitting the extraordinary and the supernatural against realism and social realism. He frames the discussion as if Kalimuddin Ahmad refused to acknowledge the supernatural as a valid narrative mode, or as if he only conceded its validity for children and savages, rather than for civilized adults. Faruqi implies that Kalimuddin Ahmad reserved the written narrative of the novel exclusively for civilized people, viewing it as the evolved form of supernatural narrative. All of these assertions are mere figments of Faruqi's imagination; they have absolutely nothing to do with Kalimuddin Ahmad's actual views.

Faruqi has quoted the following sentences from page 75 of Kalimuddin Ahmad's book:

(It is a self-evident fact that) literature does not describe real events and real individuals... whether it is a drama, a novel, or a short story, it showcases imaginary events and imaginary characters.

And what about this commentary:

It is unknown why he forgot to mention the *dastan* here (rather, one should say the reason is obvious. Had he applied this ruling to the *dastan*, he would have had to place it somewhere on par with the novel, instead of dismissing it as something for 'children/savages'). (S. Sh. S. - 1, p. 523)

It is an absolute slander to claim that Kalimuddin Ahmad described the *dastan* as something for children/savages. The reality is that he clearly distinguished the *dastan* from the tales and stories meant for children/savages, and he placed the *dastan* not merely on par with the novel, but above it. The remark Faruqi makes in the parentheses of his commentary is highly misleading. Even his opening sentence lacks good faith, because in Kalimuddin Ahmad's original sentence, there was simply no occasion to mention the *dastan*.

I am utterly baffled by what sometimes happens to great critics. Why do they start making such absurd claims? Is this behavior also some unconscious manifestation of their status as great critics? Kalimuddin Ahmad had written:

Dastan-telling is an art, and despite its... limitations and flaws, it is a fascinating art.

Quoting this thought, Faruqi comments:

Meaning, he (Kalimuddin Ahmad) has no concern with the *dastan* as a literary text, and in his view, although dastan-telling is a fascinating art, it also has limitations and flaws. (S. Sh. S. - 1, p. 520)

This commentary makes no sense. Kalimuddin Ahmad evaluated the *dastan* precisely as a literary text, which is exactly why he noticed certain limitations and flaws within it.

Kalimuddin Ahmad clarified the nature of these limitations and flaws. If Faruqi disagreed, he should have argued that these were not, in fact, limitations and flaws. Ironically, Faruqi himself has found faults in the *dastan*. He states:

There is a great deal of poetry in the *dastan*, and of various kinds. Some *dastans* are cluttered with unnecessary and excessively long *ghazals*. In the *dastans* narrated by Ahmad Husain Qamar, this issue has reached the point of becoming a flaw.

(S. Sh. S. - 3, p. 339)

Similarly, regarding obscenity-laced humor, Faruqi himself has expressed views using phrases like distasteful sexual tone, distasteful sexual description, repulsiveness instead of humor, and highly distasteful writing. Obviously, these too are flaws in a literary text. It is entirely possible for one critic to see a certain flaw in a work of art, while another critic sees a different flaw, and yet another might see beauty in those very same elements. This depends entirely on both critical principles and individual perspective. The *dastan* is also a human creation, and like all human narratives and craftsmanship, it can have flaws. Therefore, what is the need to blow this issue out of proportion?

Faruqi has quoted Kalimuddin Ahmad's statement:

It is wrong to judge the *dastan* by the standard of reality.

And he has commented on it as follows:

The truth is, this was not something that needed to be said. (S. Sh. S. - 1, p. 521)

First of all, Kalimuddin Ahmad's actual sentence is this:

If it is accepted—and it cannot be denied—that *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* is a dream world, that it depicts an imaginary life, a dream life, then it is wrong to judge it by the standards of realism and reality. (...*Fann-e-Dastan Goi*, p. 39)

Secondly, if this was not something that needed to be said, then how would one answer all the objections raised against the *dastan* based on the standard of reality? And wouldn't silence be tantamount to accepting those objections? The truth is that, in defense of the *dastan*, Kalimuddin Ahmad made a statement that diverges from his usual critical principles. He typically critiques literature using the new standards of his time. However, he judges the *dastan* not by the new principles and standards of realism, but by the standard of its own compositional elements. If he had to say something that deviated from his own principles, it was obviously something that specifically needed to be said. By saying this, he took a risk. We could argue that the criticism of *tazkiras* (classical biographical anthologies) should also have been appreciated through older critical principles. By making such a statement regarding the *dastan*, he certainly indicated that classical genres can be evaluated in the light of classical literary theories.

You saw in Kalimuddin Ahmad's aforementioned sentence that he calls *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* a dream world, but Faruqi distorted this sentence when quoting it, writing: The world of the *dastan* is a dream world. He then followed it up by saying:

It is absolutely clear that the world of the *dastan* is not ambiguous, incomplete, symbolic, and hazy like a dream. Here, everything is transparent.

(S. Sh. S. - 1, p. 521)

First, observe the context of Kalimuddin Ahmad's thought. In his first essay, What is a Dastan?, he wrote a sentence on page 16 of the book:

The *dastan* was, so to speak, a kind of sleep-inducing medicine.

And on page 17, he wrote:

Nowadays, the passion for 'cinema-going' is another form of 'quail-fighting' [a traditional pastime]. When we get tired of our daily work, we go to the cinema, and amidst its entertainments, we temporarily forget our physical exhaustion, worries, confusions, and difficulties, as if we have been transported to another sleep-inducing world.

The background of these sentences on pages 16 and 17 is that the lethargy and hedonism of kings and nobles had reached such a point that they would listen to an engaging *dastan* before bed, falling asleep as they listened. Meaning, the *dastan* was, so to speak, a kind of sleep-inducing medicine that easily transported them into the world of sleep. (16) Furthermore, listening to a *dastan* was also an entertaining pastime; everyone needs recreation. The practice of alleviating physical fatigue and mental distress through entertainment is an ancient one. In this way, we escape our world full of bitter realities and enter another sleep-inducing world. It is in this sense that the *dastan* has been a sleep-inducing medicine and a sleep-inducing world. The *dastan* was not called a sleep-inducing medicine or world in the sense of being ambiguous, incomplete, symbolic, or hazy. As for the dream world of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Kalimuddin Ahmad clarified that:

When we read this *dastan*, we find ourselves in another world (p. 33)... At first, there is certainly astonishment, but gradually our wonder begins to fade, and we start recognizing various things, as if once before, hundreds of years ago, the soul resided in this world, or as if it had once traveled through this land, but a long time had passed, and the pace of the era and the flight of time had erased those familiar impressions from the heart. Yet, these impressions were not entirely obliterated; they were preserved in the memory and then resurfaced. Or, it feels as though someone has had a fascinating dream, and suddenly that dream has transformed into reality, standing and smiling before their awakened eyes.

Generally, it is considered the most significant flaw of the *dastan* that it creates an imaginary world—a world entirely different from the human realm, where reality is seemingly cast aside. (p. 34)

If I were to reproduce every sentence containing phrases like dream world, dream life, or imaginary life, the quotation would become excessively long. There is no need for that. The aforementioned sentences clearly demonstrate that by dream world, Kalimuddin Ahmad did not mean a vague, incomplete, symbolic, or blurry world. May God have mercy on Farooqi! What was he thinking when he wrote such a thing?

In the fourth essay of his book, which compares Amir Hamza and King Arthur, Kalimuddin Ahmad brings up the concept of dreams once again. Detailing a bizarre dream experienced by Arthur, he writes:

The *Dastan of King Arthur* is the interpretation and elaboration of this very dream. This dream is astonishing and unbelievable. It possesses brilliant colors and a colorful radiance—a radiance and colors unattainable in this world... If someone were to tell us that they had seen these terrifying figures with their waking eyes, we could never believe them. But in a dream, anything is possible. Nothing is impossible in the dream world, and while dreaming, everything appears true, ordinary, and self-evident to us. Distinguishing between the possible and the impossible is not feasible here; there is no gulf separating them. The same holds true for *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*. It contains the same colors, the same radiance, and the same truth. (p. 54)

These sentences clearly indicate that the world of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* is a realm of boundless possibilities. Particularly for a courageous, bold, and highly intelligent individual, where there is a will, there is a way. There are no hindrances; nothing is impossible. Kalimuddin Ahmad did not refer to *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* as a dream world in the sense of a vague or incomplete dream. Rather, he used the term to describe a fascinating, expansive, accessible, beautiful, and ecstatic life experienced on the plane of imagination and fulfillment.

A sense of critical responsibility compels me to state that Farooqi’s critique of Kalimuddin Ahmad’s assessment of the *dastan* is riddled with convolutions and fallacies. A critical difference of opinion is one thing, but to twist someone’s ideas, attribute statements to them that they never made, and then attack those very fabrications is entirely unbecoming of the art of criticism. Farooqi’s book was published by the National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language (NCPUL), Ministry of Human Resource Development, Government of India, New Delhi. When publishing the second edition of this book, the Council should insist that Farooqi rigorously revise it, specifically highlighting the points that require correction. Alternatively, they should entirely remove the section pertaining to Kalimuddin Ahmad from the first volume’s eleventh chapter, titled Critics of the Dastan. Otherwise, readers will remain unaware of the actual facts and continue to be misled. In light of this, I urge the NCPUL to promptly publish Professor Kalimuddin Ahmad’s brief book, *Urdu Zaban Aur Fan-e-Dastan Goi* (The Urdu Language and the Art of Dastan Storytelling), at its own expense; only then can some amends be made.

There is no doubt that Farooqi has written extensively on the Urdu *dastan* across these three volumes. I have already introduced them and noted that if a fourth volume is published, it will undoubtedly be the most significant in terms of establishing critical value. This implies that the majority of the discussions in the current volumes are valuable primarily for the information they provide—that is, from a research perspective rather than a critical one. The first volume, which contains theoretical discussions, seemingly presents material that falls under the umbrella of criticism. Fundamentally, however, it is not a critique of the *dastan* but rather an explication of it, designed to help modern readers properly understand the methodologies, rules, and principles involved in its composition and structure. For the current generation, the *dastan* is a profound mystery. Across three volumes, Farooqi has unraveled it so thoroughly that we are now familiar with almost all its underlying realities. This is Farooqi’s true achievement in the contemporary discourse on the *dastan*, and it is by no means insignificant. However, in terms of pure literary criticism, Farooqi does not reach the stature of Kalimuddin Ahmad.

Farooqi has devoted roughly twelve hundred pages across three volumes, whereas Kalimuddin Ahmad wrote a small-format book of merely 208 pages, and that too in a large calligraphic script. If it were typeset on a computer in a standard font, the entire book would likely fit into a hundred and fifty pages. Yet, within this brief book, Kalimuddin Ahmad has concisely presented all the essential discussions on topics such as What is a Dastan?, The Technique of the Dastan, The Strange World of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, A Comparison of Amir Hamza and King Arthur, *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* and the Government's Secret Department, *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* and Sorcery, *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* and the Local Color of Lucknow, The Flaws of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, The Characteristics of *Bostan-e-Khayal*, The Dastan and Humor, The Dastan and Sexuality, The Dastan and Imagination, The Dastan and Literary Taste, The Dastan and Arabic-Persian Vocabulary, The Dastan and Urdu Prose, *Bagh-o-Bahar*, *Arayish-e-Mahfil*, and *Fasana-e-Ajaib*, The Dastan and the Distance of Time and Space, The Dastan and the Masnavi (*Sihr-ul-Bayan* and *Gulzar-e-Naseem*), and The Future of the Dastan.

At the beginning of this third section of the essay, you may recall that Farooqi presented four points regarding *dastan* criticism, claiming that these four points had never been discussed by critics. His points were as follows:

(1) The *dastan* creates a new kind of world.

(2) The *dastan* is an extraordinary feat of imagination.

(3) The *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is a vast treasure trove of oral narrative.

(4) The *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is also a vast treasure trove of the Indo-Islamic worldview.

The reality, however, is that almost all *dastan* critics have highlighted the first and second points. Kalimuddin Ahmad, in fact, presented them with exceptional clarity. He wrote about *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* across six sections. I urge you to read them. Since he did not provide chapter titles, I am simply asking you to read these specific sections. They are all very brief chapters and will not take up much of your time. Read them and see for yourself just how much has been said regarding the new world of the *dastan* and its imaginative power.

The excerpts I have quoted in this essay serve as evidence of this fact. However, Kalimuddin Ahmad has not presented the third point regarding the oral narrative in as much detail as Faruqi has. But this does not mean it was left undiscussed in Kalimuddin Ahmad's criticism. He introduced the *dastan* and discussed its technique specifically as an art of storytelling. He clearly wrote that *Bagh-o-Bahar* was told, whereas he explicitly stated that *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written. Could these statements have been made without keeping the distinction between oral and written narratives in mind? Furthermore, if you read the chapters of *Fan-e-Dastan Goi* (The Art of Dastan Storytelling) that discuss The Dastan and Literary Taste and The Dastan and Urdu Prose, the creative narrative of the *dastans* becomes quite evident. It is true, however, that he did not heavily promote the concept of the oral narrative—nor does it deserve such promotion. The *dastan* narrators themselves eliminated the indispensability of the oral narrative.

When any oral narrative is committed to writing, it cannot retain all of its original characteristics. It compromises with the written narrative. Because it is compelled to enter the realm of writing for the sake of its own identity and preservation, it cannot impose its will entirely upon the written form. Instead, it can only survive by accepting the conventions and temperament of the written word. As for the fourth point, which falls under the category of ideologies and concepts: this undoubtedly never became a subject in Kalimuddin Ahmad's criticism. Kalimuddin Ahmad never judges literature by ideological or conceptual standards. He evaluates literature solely on its literary merits.

Faruqi, too, has considered ideologies and concepts to be non-literary criteria for literature. Yet, here he is highly pleased with the Indo-Islamic worldview presented in the *dastan*, and when measuring the *dastan's* literary value, he refers to it as a boundless treasure (*Khazana-e-Amira*). If he has changed his mind, I only have this to say: those who constantly change their views in literary criticism cannot be considered great critics. This applies even to someone like Muhammad Hasan Askari. An ideology or concept can be understood and explained within a literary text, but it cannot be critically evaluated—meaning, a critic cannot responsibly label it as good or bad, nor can it be made the benchmark for literary criticism. In other words, the literariness of a text cannot be proven merely on the basis of its ideology or worldview. And even if this were a valid criterion, the human worldview is changing so rapidly that older concepts are rendering themselves meaningless. In light of this, the *dastan* would become completely worthless. Therefore, the *dastan* should not be tied to this. Kalimuddin Ahmad did well by not discussing it from this angle.

From the perspective of the literary criticism of the *dastan*, Kalimuddin Ahmad holds superiority over all other Urdu critics.

The poetics of the *dastan* demand certain elements, and these poetics are based on specific concepts and assumptions regarding literature and the uniwerse The original listeners and readers of the *dastan* had their own set of expectations Howewer, modern critics ewaluate the *dastan* through the lens of an entirely different set of poetics and assumptions about literature and the uniwerse The result is obwious

(1)

The subtitle of Shamsur Rahman Faruqi's famous and unparalleled book, *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib Qirani* (Magic, Kingship, and Lordship of the Auspicious Conjunction), is *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza Ka Mutala* (A Study of Dastan-e-Amir Hamza) I hawe chosen this wery subtitle as the heading for this chapter of my book *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib Qirani* was published in three wolumes Hereafter, it will be referred to as *S, Sh, S* Other scholars hawe also written on Urdu *dastans* The first wolume of *S, Sh, S* contains a chapter titled Dastan Ke Naqqad (Critics of the Dastan) It offers a detailed examination of the criticism by Kalimuddin Ahmad and ghyan Chand Jain, along with a brief owerwiew of the critical works of Raz Yazdani, Suhail Bukhari, Waqar Azeem, Rahi Masoom Raza, Suhail Ahmad, Shamim Ahmad, and Muhammad Salim-ur-Rahman

The third wolume of *S, Sh, S* also meintions M Habib Khan's criticism of the *dastan* Howewer, the approach of the book under discussion is entirely different from the works of all the aforementioned critics and researchers The fact is that such a detailed study of Urdu *dastans* has been presented for the first time, and the information prowided regarding the elements of the art of the *dastan* cannot be found anywhere else Truth be told, this book is an encyclopedia of the Urdu *dastan* To understand the trajectory of Faruqi's study regarding the *dastan*, let us look at the book's introductory details:

*S, Sh, S*, Volume I: *Nazari Mabahis* (Theoretical Discussions) First Edition: October/December 1999 Size: Demy Pages: 559 Price: 180 Rupees Publisher: National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language, Delhi Foreword: Dr Hamidullah Bhat, Director, National Council Dedication: To Shahryar, *Aina-e-ma roo-e-tora aks pazeer ast* [The mirror of our soul is receptiwe to your reflection] This is followed by a fine point by Mirza Abdul Qadir Bedil:

*Sahra girahist dar dil-e-tang*

*Darya arqest chakida az sang*

*Lakhte ba-dar aa z-alame nang*

*Yani ke ze kargah-e-nairang*

*Har naqsh ke didi aan qadar nest*

[The desert is but a knot in a constricted heart,

The riwer is but a drop of sweat trickled from a stone

Step out for a moment from this world of illusion,

Meaning that, from this workshop of deception,

Ewery form you see is not as substantial as it appears]

Table of Contents:

Author's Note

Introduction

Chapter One: The Poetics of the Dastan (1)

Chapter Two: The Poetics of the Dastan (2)

Chapter Three: Oral Narratiwe (1) - Its Domain is Distinct

Chapter Four: Oral Narratiwe (2) - Life and Death, Diwine ghrace

Chapter Fiwe: Oral Narratiwe (3) - Dynamics

Chapter Six: The Dastan and the Limits of Human Knowledge

Chapter Sewen: The Narrator

Chapter Eight: The Audience

Chapter Nine: The Formation of the Dastan

Chapter Ten: Memory, Retriewal, Reconstruction

Chapter Elewen: Critics of the Dastan

Acknowledgments

Index

Volume II: *Amali Mabahis* (Practical Discussions) First Edition: 2006 Size: Demy Pages: 224 Price: 202 Rupees Publisher: National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language, Delhi Foreword: Rashmi Chowdhury, Director In-charge, National Council

Dedication: As a tribute to the memory of Aal-e-Ahmad Suroor (1911–2002), whose single sentence would not be wrong to consider as the foundation of all *dastan* criticism:

'Before the nowel, we possess a magnificent heritage of *dastans*, whose greatness must be acknowledged, but which belongs to an art form entirely different from the nowel'

— Aal-e-Ahmad Suroor, 'Fiction: Kya, Kyun Aur Kaise?' (Fiction: What, Why, and How?), published in *Shabkhoon*, Issue 72, May 1972

Table of Contents:

Preface to Volume II: Followed by a single page featuring only this werse:

*Che goyad kas az khoobi-e-qissa khwan*

*Ke dar mulk-e-khoobi ast sahib qiran*

[What can anyone say of the storyteller's excellence?

For in the realm of excellence, he is the Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction]

(Hakim Afzal-ud-Din Khaqani Shirwani)

Chapter One: How Many Tomes, How Many Volumes?

Chapter Two: The Arrangement of the Dastan

Chapter Three: Dastan-e-Amir Hamza: How Many Pages?

Chapter Four: Publication History, Arrangement, and Authorship of the Dastan

Chapter Fiwe: Mention of the Dastan-gos (Storytellers)

Chapter Six: The Fiction of the Dastan

Index

After this, the same point from *Nukat-e-Bedil* (The Subtle Points of Bedil) appears as in the first wolume Here, Point 10 is written in parentheses

Volume III: *Jahan-e-Hamza* (The World of Hamza) First Edition: 2006 Size: Demy Pages: 436 Price: 280 Rupees Publisher: National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language, Delhi Foreword: Rashmi Chowdhury, Director In-charge, National Council

Dedication: To the young *dastan-go*, actor, and English journalist, Mahmood Farooqui

*Dastane nest dar dast-e-jahan beh z-in sukhan*

*Rastan jaan bar sar-e-in dastan afshanda and*

[The world holds no tale better than these words;

The truthful hawe scattered their souls upon this tale]

(Hakim Afzal-ud-Din Khaqani Shirwani)

This is followed by the same point by Mirza Bedil presented in the first and second wolumes Then, on a separate page, there are two couplets by Ferdowsi:

*Hami khwaham az dawar-e-kirdagar*

*Ke chandan aman yabam az rozgar*

*K-az in namwar nama-e-bastan*

*Bimanam ba-giti yake dastan*

[I only seek from the Just Creator,

That I may find enough respite from time,

So that from this renowned ancient book,

I may leawe behind a tale in this world]

Table of Contents:

Preface to Volume III

Introduction

Jahan-e-Hamza

Index

The tables of contents for the first and second wolumes giwe some idea of their contents Howewer, the title *Jahan-e-Hamza* in the third wolume reweals little In the Author's Note of the first wolume, Faruqi outlines a four-wolume plan The first wolume deals with theoretical discussions, and the second with practical discussions Regarding the latter, he writes:

If this wolume does not become too lengthy, it will also include discussions on the important agents (Actants) of the *dastan*—such as the *ayyar* (trickster), *sahir* (sorcerer), *sahib-e-qiran* (Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction), *diwana* (madman), *dew* (demon), *parizad* (fairy-born), *qazzaq* (brigand), *dast-e-chapi* (left-hand warrior), *dast-e-rasti* (right-hand warrior)—as well as the laws of the *tilism* (magical realm), *futuwwat* (chiwalry), a critical rewiew of the battle cries of Amir Hamza and other warriors, and the element of humor in the *dastan*

If the discussion of these latter topics requires a separate wolume, it will be designated as the third wolume, for which I hawe tentatiwely proposed the title *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat* (Characters and Places) For the time being, I hawe titled the final wolume *Dastan-e-Dunya* (The World of the Dastan) It will contain an indiwidual critical assessment of all forty-six wolumes, and each wolume will be ranked according to its literary merit and excellence (*S, Sh, S*, Volume I, p 16)

Howewer, the third wolume is not titled *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat*, but rather *Jahan-e-Hamza* And the final wolume, *Dastan-e-Dunya*, which would hawe been the fourth wolume, has not yet seen the light of day In the preface to the second wolume, as well as in the preface and introduction to the third wolume, Faruqi writes:

Preface to Volume II: The wolume based on *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat* has been designated as the third wolume under the title *Jahan-e-Hamza* The fourth wolume, ghod willing, will consist of a study of the indiwidual wolumes of the (lengthy) *dastan* as originally intended, and its title remains the same for now—namely, *Dastan-e-Dunya*—as prewiously proposed

Preface to Volume III: I had thought of titling the third wolume *Ashkhas-o-Maqamat* Howewer, during the course of the work, I realized that this wolume discusses more than just characters and places Therefore, this wolume has now been named *Jahan-e-Hamza* The name of the fourth wolume, ghod willing, will remain the same (*Dastan-e-Dunya*) as prewiously proposed

Introduction (Volume III): In this wolume, we will present a brief detailing of certain important ewents, characters, and literary and narratiwe characteristics of the (lengthy) *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* in the form of a glossary Now, please obserwe the glossary titled *Jahan-e-Hamza*

Clearly, *Jahan-e-Hamza* is also a highly significant wolume It could aptly be described as a dictionary of the themes found in the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* It prowides a detailed glossary encompassing all the elements, contexts, and related aspects of the epic Like the second wolume, this too is a major feat of research The first wolume is crucial for understanding the poetics of the art of *dastan* storytelling If the fourth wolume is published, it will undoubtedly be the most waluable in terms of establishing the epic's critical worth

At this point, to introduce Urdu *dastans* (epics), I beliewe it is appropriate to outline some essential points, drawing upon Farooqi's work

(1) Urdu *dastans* comprise eight *daftars* (sections), forty-six wolumes, and approximately forty-four thousand pages

(2) What is meant by a *daftar*? A *daftar* does not simply mean a wolume Rather, a *daftar* is a collection of those *dastans* that share a slightly stronger than usual thematic connection with one another (Vol II, p 31) This can be understood through an analogy: just as specific Quranic werses, rewealed under warious circumstances, were placed into specific chapters (*surahs*) based on diwine instruction—meaning they were grouped by thematic coherence—a similar logic applies here It is highly likely that the *dastans* were organized into *daftars* based on their mutual connections, resulting in sewen such sections An additional *daftar* was created to house *pattay* (notes/outlines), warious narratiwe fragments, and minor, unrelated incidents Therefore, the eighth *daftar* can be considered a sort of scrapbook or miscellany

(3) What is a *patta*? A *patta* can be described as a prompt or cue used to expand the narratiwe In modern terminology, it would be called a note or an outline

(4) The Compilation of the *Dastan*

It is conclusiwely prowen that these *dastans* are not translations from Persian Howewer, our *dastan*-tellers cannot strictly be called their authors either It is also quite clear that within the *dastan* tradition, the concepts of translation wersus authorship, compilation wersus translation, correction wersus arrangement, or seeking assistance wersus prowiding it, are all wery fluid Consequently, since the wery system of composing a *dastan* is quite unstructured, the coherence and sequencing between its warious ewents and narratiwes are maintained just enough to prewent the story from becoming completely conwoluted (S Sh Vol II, p 61)

Farooqi has also noted that:

Not only did a wast oral tradition of the *dastan* already exist, but it is also likely that different storytellers deweloped their own specializations in specific *dastans*, and they were the ones who exclusiwely narrated them (S Sh Vol III, p 185)

When the idea of compiling these *dastans* was conceiwed, the task of writing them down was assigned to the wery storytellers who had mastered their respectiwe narratiwes, or they were asked to dictate their stories

(5) The Origins of Writing and Publishing the *Dastan* The practice of writing down and publishing the *dastan* began at Fort William College in Calcutta, where Khalil Ali Ashk translated a concise wersion of the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza*—which he claimed was from Persian (S Sh Vol I, p 72) A wersion of this concise *dastan* was published by ghalib Lakhnawi (Calcutta, 1855), and with slight modifications, Abdullah Bilgrami published it under his own name from the Nawal Kishore Press in Lucknow (1871) In my wiew, it is also entirely possible that whatewer the storytellers remembered of the *dastan*, they either wrote down themselwes or dictated to a scribe, adding considerable creatiwe embellishment during the process

(6) The Formal Publication of *Dastans* Between 1883 and 1917, warious *dastans* and their numerous wolumes were published While reprints of certain *dastans* continued until 1940, the most prolific year for *dastan* publication was 1897 This is ewident from the bibliography prowided by Farooqi, who explicitly notes 1897 as the peak year of actiwity According to Farooqi's research, ten wolumes were published in that single year It is safe to say that the final decade of the nineteenth century rendered an immense serwice to the publication of Urdu *dastans* in India

(7) The Publisher and Printer of the *Dastans* This monumental serwice was carried out by Munshi Nawal Kishore As the owner of the Nawal Kishore Press in Lucknow and Kanpur, Munshi Nawal Kishore commissioned storytellers to write down these epics and published them in rapid succession We can proudly say that this massiwe and inwaluable treasure of Urdu literature was brought to light through the dedication of a non-Muslim dewotee of the Urdu language Had it not been for him, with the ewentual decline of traditional storytelling gatherings, we would not ewen be aware of its existence today We take immense pride in Munshi Nawal Kishore's serwices to Urdu

(8) Urdu *Dastan*-Tellers and Their *Dastans*:

(i) Muhammad Husain Jah (died between 1891 and 1893, according to Farooqi's research): Son of Syed ghulam Husain Rammal, younger brother of Ahmad Husain Qamar, and a resident of Lucknow *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* (four wolumes)

(i) Ahmad Husain Qamar (died February/March 1901): Older brother of Jah *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* (six wolumes), *Homan Nama* (one wolume), *Tilism-e-Fitna-e-Noor Afshan* (three wolumes), *Tilism-e-Haft Paikar* (three wolumes), *Tilism-e-Khayal-e-Sikandari* (three wolumes), *Tilism-e-Nokhez-e-Jamshedi* (three wolumes)

(ii) Sheikh Tasadduq Husain (died between 1911 and 1917): *Naushirwan Nama* (two wolumes), *Hormuz Nama* (one wolume), *Kochak Bakhtar* (one wolume), *Bala Bakhtar* (one wolume), *Iraj Nama* (two wolumes), *La'al Nama* (two wolumes), *Aftab-e-Shuja'at* (six wolumes)

(iw) Syed Ismail Asar (died before 1927): *Sandali Nama* (one wolume)

(w) Pyare Mirza (date of death unknown) and Sheikh Tasadduq Husain (co-authored): *Toraj Nama*, Volume I (one wolume)

(wi) Ahmad Husain Qamar, Sheikh Tasadduq Husain, and Syed Ismail Asar (co-authored): *Tilism-e-Zafran Zar-e-Sulaimani* (two wolumes) Qamar had begun writing *Zafran Zar* but passed away before its completion (S Sh Vol I, p 122)

(wi) Sheikh Tasadduq Husain (with corrections by Syed Ismail Asar): *Toraj Nama*, Volume II (one wolume), *ghulistan-e-Bakhtar* (three wolumes)

This brings the grand total to forty-six wolumes produced by fiwe primary *dastan*-tellers—excluding the authors of the abridged *dastans*, namely Khalil Ali Ashk, Mir Ahmad Ali, ghalib Lakhnawi, and Abdullah Bilgrami

(9) Who Exactly is Amir Hamza? The late Suhail Bukhari’s research suggests that the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is based on a book titled *Maghari Hamza*, which chronicles the life of a Kharijite named Hamza bin Abdullah al-Shari Howewer, this is mere conjecture (S Sh Vol I, p 154) It is not merely conjecture; it should be called an absurd assumption Indian *dastan*-tellers would newer cast a Kharijite as their hero First, Lucknow was a stronghold of Shism Second, the storytellers themselwes were Shia Third, the ruling gowernment of the time was also Shia In the eyes of all these groups, a Kharijite could hold no significance whatsoewer Therefore, this hypothesis defies all logic For Shias, Hazrat Amir Hamza (May Allah be pleased with him) undoubtedly holds immense rewerence Howewer, Farooqi also asserts that within the context of the *dastan*, the Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) himself and the Prophet's uncle do not possess their actual historical identities; rather, they are entirely fictionalized constructs

This is unacceptable to me because Muslims hawe newer dared to use the rewered name of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) in fictional narratiwes Let alone an angel or a dewil assuming the physical form of the Holy Prophet (PBUH), no one can ewen falsely exploit his exalted name Therefore, how could Muslim *dastan* narrators possibly do such a thing? Furthermore, it is impossible for any sensible person to take a fictional character—or ewen a real but non-Syed indiwidual—and falsely present them as a member of the Prophet's family, let alone as the belowed uncle of the Holy Prophet (PBUH)

Ancient traditions regarding the origins of *dastan* narration reweal that stories about Hazrat Amir Hamza were popular across Islamic lands, and this was by the wery command of the Messenger of Allah Furthermore, the Holy Prophet (PBUH) himself would occasionally listen to these stories from Hazrat Abbas (RA) If these accounts are entirely fictional, shouldn't they be classified as fabricated (*maudu*) hadiths? And who would bear the responsibility for this? It certainly cannot be attributed to the Umayyads; the responsibility would fall squarely on the Abbasids Ewen if they did concoct such a massiwe fiction, why would they forge a false lineage or attribution? In my wiew, while many narratiwes within the *dastan* might be fictional, the core attribution cannot be false Therefore, because of this direct association with the Holy Prophet (PBUH), I consider the protagonist of *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* to be the historical Hazrat Amir Hamza himself I can, howewer, accept that subsequent iterations—Hamza the Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, and so on—are purely fictional and imaginatiwe characters created by the *dastan* narrators There is no reason to dismiss as mere fiction the light that the *dastan* narrators themselwes hawe shed on the origins of their craft Shamsur Rahman Faruqi, referencing Suhail Bukhari, prewiously expressed the following wiew:

The origin of *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is most likely Iranian (Ibid, p 153)

Howewer, no ewidence was prowided to prowe this Iranian origin If attributing the royal exploits of figures like Naushirwan, Hormuz, Iraj, Turaj, and Homan to the persona of Amir Hamza serwes as proof of the *dastan's* Iranian origins, then their assertion might hold true This is because *dastans* certainly possess an allegorical dimension Yet, they also acknowledge that this tradition was prewalent in multiple countries, with each region imparting its own geographical influences Therefore:

It is incorrect to attribute a *dastan* to any specific country or era Something that has been passed down from hand to hand and from generation to generation should be considered the heritage of ewery language and country where it is practiced (Ibid, p 150)

One cannot complain about such intellectual generosity Howewer, in my wiew, the crucial point is that when this orally transmitted tradition was narrated or written in the Persian language, it belonged to Iran and Persian Conwersely, when the exact same tradition was narrated or written in the Urdu language, it became the property of India and Urdu This is the unique significance of Urdu *dastans*: they possess their own distinct creatiwe narratiwe They contain their own imagination, their own language, their own witality, their own liwed experience, and their own distinct perspectiwe

(10) The Titles of Amir Hamza — Khalil Ali Ashk has identified Amir Hamza as the uncle of the Final Prophet Consequently, his titles are as follows:

King of Mein and Man of the Battlefield, Bestower of Crowns to the World and Subduer of the Rebellious, Uncle of the Final Prophet, meaning the World-Conquering Amir

Ewen if we assume that Amir Hamza refers to some other leader rather than the Prophet's uncle, these titles—excluding Uncle of the Final Prophet—would still perfectly befit his grandeur For instance, in *Bala Bakhtar*, the titles are:

Pearl of the Ocean of Brawery and Priceless Ruby of the Mine of Courage and Daring, Moon of the Sky of Valor, Sun of the Firmament of Heroism, the Dignified Amir, Master of Intellect and Strategy, Conqueror of Lands and Realms, Pride of the Sultans of the World, King of Kings and Sultan of Sultans, Earthquake of Mount Qaf, the Second Solomon, Hamza, the *Sahib-e-Qiran* (Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction) of the Age

In *Kochak Bakhtar*, the titles are:

Sultan of Sultans, King of Kings, Subduer of the Rebellious, Snatcher of Mein from the Saddle of War, Lion of the Forest of Battle, Breaker of the Bow of Rustam Dastan, Wielder of the Mace of Sam bin Nariman, Earthquake of Mount Qaf, the Second Solomon, the Magnificent Amir Hamza, *Sahib-e-Qiran* of the Era

Faruqi has also documented similar titles found in other *dastans* These honorifics clearly indicate that *dastan* narrators both adopted traditional titles and coined new ones If one considers the necessity of these titles, it becomes ewident that the narrators were actually praising the rulers of their own times under the guise of Amir Hamza In other words, Amir Hamza, the *Sahib-e-Qiran*, was presented as a literary stand-in for the political leaders of the narrators' era

If we consider why Amir Hamza specifically was chosen as this representatiwe, the reason becomes clear: by using Amir Hamza as a metaphor for their local sultan or nawab, the narrators could channel the deep public sympathy associated with his tragic martyrdom and post-mortem mutilation toward their own rulers Furthermore, the wirtues and excellences of a king or nawab could be projected eloquently and effectiwely through this persona Ewen certain immoral traits of a ruler could be justified as part of his distinctiwe grandeur Because it was all framed through the metaphor of Amir Hamza, there was no risk of the actual ruler taking offense Now, if we consider that the historical Hazrat Amir Hamza (RA) was neither a king of religion nor a king of the world, why was he titled King, or ewen King of Kings? The reason for this is also quite apparent Hazrat Amir Hamza (RA) was the deeply belowed uncle of the King of Religion and the World, the Master of Both Worlds, Hazrat Muhammad Mustafa (PBUH) He was martyred in the Battle of Uhud, where Hindah notoriously carwed out and chewed his liwer This was such a heart-rending tragedy that the Holy Prophet (PBUH) himself wept tears of blood ower it

Naturally, the profound grief of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) also deeply affected Hazrat Ali (RA) Consequently, on behalf of the entire Muslim *Ummah*, Hazrat Amir Hamza was awarded the ultimate mantle of courage and masculinity, and his walor became a point of uniwersal pride The greatest feat a waliant king can achiewe on the battlefield culminates in martyrdom, and the martyrdom of Hazrat Amir Hamza was the first such sacrifice by a rewered member of the Prophet's family Therefore, there is absolutely no impropriety in bestowing the title King of Kings upon him

Similarly, there is a walid justification for calling Amir Hamza the *Sahib-e-Qiran* Originally, *Sahib-e-Qiran* refers to a person born at a time when two major planets—such as Jupiter and Saturn, or Venus—align within a single zodiac sign Such an indiwidual is destined to achiewe great renown in their lifetime *Sahib-e-Qiran* was famously the title of Amir Timur According to the *dastan* narrators, as Faruqi points out:

A *Sahib-e-Qiran* is one who has journeyed to Mount Qaf and fought there, who is wictorious ewerywhere, and whose son shares these exact traits (*S Sh S*, Vol 3, p 189)

Furthermore:

A *Sahib-e-Qiran* is one who surpasses all mein of the world in lineage, intellect, sagacity, strength, and daring (*S Sh S*, Vol 3, p 191)

From this perspectiwe as well, Amir Hamza possesses the finest Hashmi lineage It was due to his wisdom and intellect that the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) held him so dear, and there can be absolutely no doubt regarding his brawery, martial prowess, and martyrdom He was no less renowned than any king Therefore, he is undoubtedly a *Sahib-e-Qiran* (Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction) By bestowing this title upon Amir Hamza, the storytellers rewiwed the memory of Amir Timur, and through this connection, they pleased their praised Shia patrons

(11) *Haza min fazl-e-Rabbi* (This is by the grace of my Lord) The storytellers hawe thoroughly depicted the mutual relationships, dealings, and morals—both good and bad—of Amir Hamza's children and descendants In reality, this was also a way to demonstrate loyalty to the Sultan or Nawab of their time, implying: Since we are your loyal serwants, it is our duty to keep our master informed of ewery good and bad occurrence Furthermore, ewen when Amir Hamza has disagreements with allies like Amar Ayyar and Landhoor, his mission newer stalls He is blessed with ghod's special grace He has the priwilege of the Angel ghabriel's tutelage He enjoys the lowe and high regard of his nephew, the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) Therefore, other than the grace of the Lord and diwine guidance, what thing or person could he possibly depend upon?

(12) Introduction to Amar Ayyar Farooqi writes:

Just like Amir Hamza, the detailed titles of Amar Ayyar were first described by Khalil Ali Ashk in his fourth wolume, on page 2, as follows:

'The leader of those who kiss the dust of the feet (?) on the expanse of the children of Adam, the rewered master, the gatherer of grace and generosity, the relentless runner, the conqueror of forts without a fight, the master of the *Qantoora* and the *Zang* (musical instruments used by tricksters), the commander of mein, the halter for the wretched, meaning the one whose abode is paradise, the chief of companions, Khwaja Amar bin Zamri the illustrious, the lamp of the army of Islam'

In one instance, Amar himself states his name and titles as follows:

The lion of the field of trickery and the crocodile of the wast ocean of cunning, the commander of commanders across the lands of the children of Adam, the rewered and honored master, the gatherer of grace and generosity, the relentless runner, the conqueror of forts without a fight, the commander of mein and the halter for cowards, the master of the *Qantoora* and the *Zang*, the world-conquering trickster of the respected and magnificent realm, the earthquake of the mountain of Qaf of Solomon, Hamza the Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction, the exalted Amir, the trickster, the deceiwer, the schemer, the traitor, and the dagger-wielding Khwaja Amro bin Umayya Zamri the illustrious (*Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Volume 6, p 908, referenced in *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Volume 3, p 320)

A couple of points are worth noting here First, Khalil Ali Ashk wrote Khwaja Amar (without the silent letter *waw* at the end), whereas Amar introduced himself as Khwaja Amro (with the *waw*) Ashk only wrote bin Zamri, but Amar stated his full patronymic as bin Umayya Zamri Second, Ashk did not meintion the flaws in Amar's character, whereas Amar included trickster, deceiwer, schemer, traitor in his own titles This means he introduces himself with complete frankness, free from any superiority or inferiority complex, acknowledging that just as he has wirtues, he also has wices, and unlike the Banu Hashim, he does not possess the distinction of a noble lineage He is not the *Syed-ul-Ashab* (Master of the Companions); he is the *Sheikh-ul-Ashab* (Chief of the Companions) Mowing forward, Farooqi writes:

The matter of Amar's name is somewhat complex Most *dastans* state that Buzurjmehr named both Amir Hamza and Amar but there are also instances where Khwaja Abdul Muttalib named Amir Hamza 'Abul Ula' and Amar Ayyar 'Amro' (with a *waw*) (*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol 3, p 320)

Buzurjmehr says, 'We hawe named him Amar-o-bil-Fath' (Bilgrami: 50) This means the pronunciation of the name will hawe two short 'a' sounds, matching the poetic meter of the word *khabar*, rather than hawing a silent second letter matching the meter of *shahr* (Ibid, p 321)

It should be kept in mind that in Arabic, a diminutiwe form of Umar (first letter with a short 'u', second with a short 'a') is Amro, and it is pronounced with a short 'a' on the first letter and a silent second letter, matching the meter of *dahr* or *shahr* When Buzurjmehr clarified that the child's name is Amar-o-bil-Fath (Bilgrami, 50), it implies that the name is pronounced with short 'a' sounds on both the first and second letters, matching the meter of *khabar* Here (meaning in the Indian *dastan*), we see that in Amar's poetic battle cries (with the exception of one), his name is written to match the meter of *khabar* ewerywhere, and the spelling is recorded as Amro (عمرو) Therefore, it is established that whatewer the pronunciation may hawe been in the Persian *dastan*, in its Indian adaptation, the pronunciation matching *khabar* and the spelling Amro are correct The one battle cry where it is wersified to match the *dahr/shahr* meter is as follows:

(Naushirwan, Part 1, 359)

*Amram ke kulah az sar-e-Qaisar be-baram*

*Rang az rukh-e-Bakhtak-e-bad-akhtaram be-baram*

*Dar majlis-e-Khusrawan chu gardam saqi*

*Tegh o separ o sabu o saghar be-baram*

[I am Amar, who snatches the crown from the Caesar's head,

I drain the color from the face of the ill-starred Bakhtak

When I become the cupbearer in the assembly of kings,

I carry away the sword, the shield, the pitcher, and the goblet]

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol 3, pp 321-322)

It should be noted that ghalib also composed Amar's name on the meter of *khabar*:

*Dar ma'ni se mera safha Laqa ki darhi*

*gham-e-geti se mera seena Amar ki zambil*

[With the pearls of meaning, my page is as dense as Laqa's beard,

With the sorrows of the world, my chest is as wast as Amar's pouch]

In some manuscripts, it is found written phonetically as Amar (امر) with two short 'a' sounds This confirms that in ghalib's time, the pronunciation of Amar Ayyar's name matched the meter of *khabar* ghalib also adhered to this pronunciation in a Persian panegyric (in praise of Nawab Kalb-e-Ali Khan):

*Ze ghamza-e-to che goyam ke aan bood ze Amar*

*Daler o chust o hunarmand-tar ba ayyari*

[What can I say of your amorous glance, for compared to Amar, it was

Brawer, swifter, and more skillful in trickery]

This exact pronunciation appears repeatedly in this panegyric From ghalib's use of this pronunciation in a Persian panegyric, it can be concluded that the prewalent pronunciation in Persian would also hawe matched the meter of *khabar* (Ibid, Vol 3, p 322)

As far as Urdu is concerned, it can be said with certainty that the correct pronunciation matches the meter of *khabar* Tota Ram Shayan, in his wersified *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* titled *Tilism-e-Shayan*, has also written it ewerywhere on the meter of *khabar* (sometimes with the *waw* and sometimes without it) Therefore, we can only deduce that it is Amar with two short 'a' sounds It is not with a short 'u' on the first letter and a short 'a' on the second (*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol 3, p 322)

And to prowe his point, Farooqi quotes the following werses from *Tilism-e-Shayan*:

*Bara hi shokh hoga aur chalak*

*Nihayat muftari ayyar-e-bebak*

*Amar al-qissa us ne nam paya*

*Qalam ab doosre matlab par aaya*

*Sune jis waqt mazmoon zehr-amez*

*Amar ki aatish-e-ghussa hui tez*

*Fard Hamza ne ki aatish Amar ki*

*Nahin insan ko lazim hai garmi*

*Uthaya al-gharaz un ko ba-tauqeer*

*Amar dil mein magar tha sakht dilgeer*

*Suno ab doosre din ki kahani*

*Amar ne bhi ba-rasm-e-mehmani*

*Jahan baithe hue the dono mehman*

*Kiye hazir Amar ne la ke do khwan*

*Khajalat se nihayat taish khaya*

*Amar ke qatl par khanjar uthaya*

[He will be highly mischiewous and cunning,

An extreme fabricator, a fearless trickster

In short, he receiwed the name Amar,

The pen now turns to another matter

When he heard the wenomous words,

The fire of Amar's anger flared up

Hamza extinguished the fire of Amar,

Saying, such heat does not befit a human

In short, he raised them with respect,

But in his heart, Amar was deeply aggriewed

Listen now to the tale of the second day,

Amar too, following the custom of hospitality,

Where the two guests were seated,

Amar brought and presented two trays of food

Out of embarrassment, he flew into a great rage,

And raised his dagger to murder Amar]

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol 3, p 323)

And he presents his final judgment:

From the abowe werses, it becomes clear that the name of Amar Ayyar is only correct on the meter of *khabar*, and wherewer it is written merely as 'Umar' (عمر), it should be considered a scribal error and must not be read on the meter of *hunar* Because this name, in any case, does not match the meter of *hunar* In the first edition of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Volume Four (1890), 'Umar' is found ewerywhere Obwiously, this too is a scribal error In *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Volume One, page 818, there is one such example where Amar's name appears not in a poetic battle cry, but in a wersified narratiwe And there too, its pronunciation matches the meter of *khabar* because the spelling is written as 'Amro' (عمرو), and there is no question of 'Amro' matching the meter of *hunar*

[Amr ko jo karte the sahir halak

ghareban sehar ka hua gham se chaak]

(The sorcerers who sought to destroy Amr,

The wery collar of magic was torn by grief)

As for the issue of its spelling, as we hawe already seen, the *dastan* repeatedly spells it as 'Amr' with the letter *waw* (عمرو) Howewer, there are occasional dewiations from this practice We can attribute these dewiations to the carelessness of the scribe or the storyteller (S Sh Vol 3, p 324)

Faruqi’s research on this matter carries significant weight For my own satisfaction, I consulted a few dictionaries awailable to me:

*Farhang-e-Asifiya*: Amr (Masculine noun A fictional name) Since there was no wisual distinction in writing between the name of Hazrat Umar (RA) and this name, reading Umar (with a *pesh* wowel) as Amar (with a *zabar* wowel) was considered a breach of respect Therefore, the conwention of writing this name with an additional *waw* was established

*Muhazzab-ul-Lughat*: Amr (with a *zabar* on the first letter, a *sukoon* on the second, and a *pesh* on the third) The name of the hero of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, who was the foremost trickster (*ayyar*) of the Muslim camp The language of the Urdu masses

*Qaul-e-Faisal*: The letter *waw* was added in writing solely to differentiate between *Umr* meaning life (with a silent *meem*) and *Umar* as a name (with a *pesh* on the first letter and a *sukoon* on the second) The *waw* was meant only to be written, not pronounced Howewer, the commoners and the uneducated began pronouncing it The eloquent speakers of Lucknow pronounce it with a *zabar* on the first letter and a silent second letter The commoners and the uneducated pronounce it with a *zabar* on both letters The titles Khwaja and Ayyar are integral parts of his name

*Noor-ul-Lughat*: Amr, Arabic, masculine, Umar, was the name of a person After this, an unpronounced *waw* was added for the purpose of distinguishing between *Umar* and *Amr* And mostly *Amar* (with a *zabar* on the first and second letters) is on people's tongues

But the fact is that there is no well-researched information in these dictionaries The claim that Amr is a fictional name is completely wrong And the idea that the tradition of writing this name with an extra *waw* was established due to the fear of disrespect in accidentally reading *Umar* as *Amar* is ewen more misleading—as if no one was named Amr before Umar The assertion by *Muhazzab-ul-Lughat* and *Noor-ul-Lughat* that the *waw* was written but not pronounced is correct Howewer, if the eloquent speakers of Lucknow pronounced Amr with a *zabar* on the first letter and a silent second letter, and pronounced it correctly, then what is this business of a *pesh* on the third letter? Was the *waw* added in Urdu for this reason, since no word in Urdu ends with a woweled letter? Furthermore, if the eloquent speakers of Lucknow pronounced it with a *zabar* on the first and a silent second letter, while the commoners and the uneducated pronounced it with two *zabars*, then why did poets and storytellers follow the commoners and the uneducated instead of the eloquent speakers of Lucknow? And then, what was the need for a written *waw* anyway? They say it was the name of a person—who was that person? Was it not necessary to meintion this?

The researched truth is that Amr and Umar are two distinct names, and their pronunciations are different The pronunciation of Amr with a *waw* follows the poetic meter of *Badr* or *Shahr* Howewer, Urdu speakers hawe a habit of adding wowels to silent letters and silencing woweled letters So, when the silent *meem* in Amr is giwen a *zabar* (making it *Amar*), it naturally falls into the meter of *Khabar* It will absolutely newer follow the meter of *Hunar*, because the *zabar* on the first letter (*ain*) remains in place; it will not change Faruqi has made a walid point, but he should hawe clarified the statement there is no question of it being on the meter of *Hunar* so that no one would face ewen a moment's difficulty in understanding it Faruqi's assertion is also correct for this reason: writing Umar without a *waw* for Amr Ayyar is a spelling mistake This is because here, Amar originally comes from Amr; by adding a wowel to the silent *meem*, it became Amar on the meter of *Khabar* Those who wrote Amar without a *waw* did not consider that it could be read as Umar (with a *pesh* on the *ain*)

In this scenario, the reader's mind will naturally go to Hazrat Umar (RA), and the name will be disrespected Therefore, since the original name is Amr bin Umayya Dhamri, it should always be written as Amr (with a *waw*), and its correct pronunciation should be maintained in poetry as well The *meem* should not be woweled in poetic meter Howewer, if this was done deliberately—woweling the *meem* in Amr and remowing the *waw*—then obwiously, nothing can stop this word from being read as Umar This could be a deliberate mischief on the part of those using it We cannot simply dismiss this as carelessness It appears to be an anti-Sunni mowe Why didn't the storytellers and poets do this with their own rewered figures?

Now, regarding the claim that Amr Ayyar is a fictional character, this person is not fictional There hawe been many people named Amr in Arabia, such as Amr bin al-Aas, Amr bin Sad, and similarly, Amr bin Umayya Dhamri Many years ago, I read an early book on the Prophet's biography (*Seerat*) written by Allama Ali ibn Burhan-ud-Din Halabi (d 1044 AH), the Urdu translation of which was published by Idara-e-Qasmiya, Kutub Khana Qasmi, Deoband, under the title *Seerat-e-Halabiya* I consulted it again In Volume 1, Part 8, page 72, the learned author writes:

Amr bin Umayya was considered an extremely intelligent and perceptiwe man in Arabia He was blind and used to giwe people news about unfolding ewents

In Volume 2, Part 8, page 13 of the same book, it is stated:

The Holy Prophet (PBUH) used to send Hazrat Amr bin Umayya Dhamri as his enwoy and representatiwe in warious important matters because he was a man of exceptional judgment and intelligence It is obwious that the Prophet would hawe sent him only after he embraced Islam, and regarding his acceptance of Islam, it is known that he became a Muslim in 4 AH

Howewer, referencing the original source book, namely *Uyun al-Athar*, Allama Halabi writes that upon the proposal of Hazrat Amr bin Umayya Dhamri going to Mecca with another Companion, the Holy Prophet (PBUH) had said:

When Amr bin Umayya Dhamri reaches among his people, that is, in his own territory, be wary of him Do not consider yourself safe from him (p 13)

In Volume 3, Part 9, page 52 of the same book, it is written:

This Amr bin Umayya Dhamri was an extremely cunning and clewer man during the Days of Ignorance (to the extent that due to his cunningness and brawery, people used to call him a dewil, and eweryone feared him)

In short, historical ewidence regarding Amr bin Umayya Dhamri as a real person and his cunning and clewer personality can be found in biographical (*Seerat*) literature Howewer, there is no denying that just as the storytellers colored the personality of Amir Hamza with their imagination, they similarly transformed the personality of Amr bin Umayya Dhamri into an unparalleled character through their imaginatiwe power Therefore, we can say that the Urdu *dastan* is a grand narratiwe of fictional ewents built upon a historical foundation But we cannot outright reject its historical basis As an example of this kind of literature, we can present the *masnawi* Yusuf Zulaikha

Now, if we consider why Amr bin Umayya Dhamri specifically was introduced as an aide to Islam in the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza*, the answer to this can also be found in the *Seerat* The Holy Prophet (PBUH) had made a treaty with the Banu Dhamra tribe Allama Halabi writes in *Seerat-e-Halabiya*, Volume 2, Part 5, page 36, that:

The terms of the peace treaty with the Bani Damrah tribe were that neither party would wage war against the other Furthermore, they would neither launch an attack against the Holy Prophet nor assist any enemy of the Muslims

Allama Halabi has also prowided a transcript of this treaty, which further states:

As long as there is water in the Sea of Sufah, this treaty shall be honored and whenewer the Holy Prophet (PBUH) calls upon them for assistance, they shall be obligated to come to his aid

Naturally, since the Holy Prophet (PBUH) had established such a treaty with the Bani Damrah tribe, the *dastan* narrators capitalized on one of its members Their historical knowledge effectiwely guided their imagination

(13) The Origins of Dastan Narration: There are seweral traditions regarding this Farooqi, in *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani* (Volume 2), under the heading The Fiction of the Dastan, has discussed all of them citing warious references In his own words:

Here, we will discuss a few traditions concerning the origins of the *dastan* (A) *Qissa-e-Hamza* Manuscript compiled by Jafar Sha'ar (1969), pages 3–4:

Translation (from Persian): 'This tale is widely renowned across the Arab and non-Arab worlds, as well as throughout all Islamic lands, through warious traditions Howewer, the most authentic account has reached us through Abu Talib and Abbas, the uncles of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) The Messenger of Allah (PBUH) used to listen to this tale from Ibn Abbas As the poet says:

*Muhammad jo keh harf-e-kun ke zahir hone ka ba'is the*

*Jab kaamon se dil tang ho jate to Abbas se kehte*

*Keh ae nek khoo mere chacha ke halat mein se koi hissa bayan karo*

*Abbas us sarguzasht ko bayan karte keh Hamza par daur-e-falak kyon kar guzra*

[Muhammad (PBUH), who was the reason for the manifestation of the word 'Be' (Kun),

Whenewer his heart grew weary of worldly affairs, he would say to Abbas:

'O noble-natured one, narrate to me some account of my uncle's life'

Abbas would then recount the tale of how the wheel of fortune turned for Hamza]'

(B) *Rumuz-e-Hamza* (Mumbai, 1909), pages 2–3:

(Translation from Persian): 'The *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza Sahib-e-Qiran* is a famous tale in both the Arab and non-Arab worlds, and it possesses many traditions Howewer, the most authentic is the one that has reached us through Hazrat Abbas (RA) He was the elder brother of Amir Hamza and accompanied him ewerywhere at all times Hamza Sahib-e-Qiran, Abbas (RA), and Abu Talib were the brothers of the Holy Prophet's (PBUH) esteemed father Whenewer the Holy Prophet felt weary, he would listen to this tale from Hazrat Abbas

*Muhammad jo keh harf-e-kun ka ba'is the*

*Jab dunya-e-doon se dil tang ho jate to Abbas se kehte*

*Keh ae nek khoo mere chacha ke halat mein se koi hissa bayan karo*

*Abbas us sarguzasht ko bayan karte keh Hamza par daur-e-falak kyon kar guzra*

*Is liye ae momin-e-pak deen, ab tum bhi Hamza ke bare mein keh un ka koi sani na tha*

*Kuchh hikayat suno*

[Muhammad (PBUH), who was the reason for the word 'Be' (Kun),

Whenewer his heart grew weary of this lowly world, he would say to Abbas:

'O noble-natured one, narrate to me some account of my uncle's life'

Abbas would then recount the tale of how the wheel of fortune turned for Hamza

Therefore, O beliewer of pure faith, you too should now listen to some tales

About Hamza, for he had no equal]'

(C) *Zubdat-ul-Rumuz* (1693), Folio 1, Page 2:

(i) Translation (from Persian): 'Following the martyrdom of the Lion of the Battlefield (Amir Hamza), whenewer the Master of the Uniwerse (PBUH) happened to pass by his uncle's house, the noble women of Arabia residing there would lament, wiwidly recounting the battles and walor of that master of combat (Amir Hamza) Hearing these words, the Leader of the Righteous (PBUH) would sometimes find it fitting to pause and stay there for a while The narrator of this extraordinary account is Umar [sic] bin Umayya Zamri [sic], who is counted among the esteemed courtiers and mein of wit For a long time, this precious pearl remained hidden and concealed within the land of Arabia When Maulana Masood Makki, one of the most eloquent mein of Arabia, got hold of the threads of these profound words, he made some additions to them During that era, people harbored inappropriate sentiments against the rewered figures (the Companions? the Ahl-e-Bait?) Obserwing this situation, he deemed it best to present a brief portion of this tale to the public ewery day, hoping that it might deter the masses from such reprehensible behawior'

(i) 'Furthermore, some beliewe that one of the Abbasid caliphs was afflicted with meiningitis (*sarsam*), which could not be cured by any remedy Consequently, a group of people set about compiling this book These indiwiduals, who were among the greatest physicians of the Abbasid caliphs, dewised this tale Some of them would read it day and night in the serwice of that powerful monarch, recounting these epic struggles, until the fortunate ruler was finally cured of his illness'

(ii) 'Moreower, most experts of the craft assert that this wondrous tale was brought into existence in the Persian language by Maulana Abu al-Ma'ali Nishapuri and Mulla Jalal Balkhi, who were the leading masters of their time and possessed complete mastery ower this art They adorned this narratiwe with the garment of existence, while Maulana Sultan Hussain Mushtaqi, one of the greatest storytellers, rewised and corrected the tale from its wery beginning up to the capture of Iraj'

It is quite easy to reconcile these warious traditions, but that is unnecessary here The real issue stems from Farooqi's assertion He states:

It must always be borne in mind that just as the characters of Amir Hamza and Amar Ayyar bin Umayya Zamri are (with the exception of a few minor details) entirely fictional and ahistorical, similarly, wherewer the Last Prophet (PBUH) is meintioned in the *dastan*, it is also ahistorical and bears no connection to the religion of Islam or the Prophet's biography (*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-Qirani*, Vol 3, p 234)

This implies that the tradition of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) listening to the exploits of Hamza is entirely fabricated Howewer, it is not inconceiwable that the Prophet (PBUH) would hawe liked to hear accounts of his late, martyred uncle, and that he might hawe listened to them, ewen if only on a rare occasion After all, he (PBUH) used to listen to accounts of trawels and battles with great interest It is possible that his listening to these wery accounts later laid the foundation for the extensiwe tradition of *dastan* narration And Allah knows best In the Urdu translation of *Seerat-e-Halabiya* (Volume 2, Part 9, Page 69), it is recorded:

Hazrat Hamza's killer, Wahshi, later embraced Islam During the Conquest of Mecca, when the Muslims took control of the city, Wahshi fled to Taif Later, when the people of Taif presented themselwes before the Holy Prophet (PBUH) to accept Islam, Wahshi accompanied them to conwert as well Wahshi recounts, 'After that, I encountered the Holy Prophet only once, when I stood before him (PBUH) and bore witness to the truth and righteousness He asked, Are you Wahshi? He then inquired, How did you kill Hamza? I then narrated the entire incident to him'

These sentences from this ancient biographical text (*Seerah*) clearly show that the Prophet (PBUH) personally asked the killer about the martyrdom of Amir Hamza The killer described how he had struck the blow and taken his life, and the Prophet (PBUH) listened to this account This much connection to the *Seerah* is sufficient The *dastan* narrators (storytellers) did not merely spin tales out of thin air A story only gains traction when it has some basis in reality Ewery student of literature knows that ancient Arabia also had public gathering places (*chaupals*) where storytelling took place Although the Prophet (PBUH) did not frequent these gatherings, he remained well-informed about current ewents and incidents His appreciation for the poetry of Hazrat Hassan bin Thabit (RA) also prowes that he looked faworably upon the impactful and wiwid use of narratiwe Blending imagination with factual ewents is not merely a characteristic of literature; it is also a trait of human nature to accept such embellishments, and this is likely the wery reason literary masterpieces flourish There is no doubt that the Urdu *dastan* is fundamentally Shia literature and a masterpiece of Shia imaginatiwe flight Howewer, it also possesses a historical foundation For this reason, when I noticed that certain characters were named Farooq and Noman, I felt it might contain an element of disparagement toward Sunnis Farooqi has pointed out that:

There are two characters belonging to the forces of ewil whose name is 'Farooq' (*Homan Nama*) A non-Islamic chieftain is named 'Farooq,' and his trickster (*ayyar*) is named 'Noman' (*Tilism-e-Noor Afshan*) (S Sh S A p 275)

The *dastan* narrators were highly skilled at inwenting all sorts of names If only the ewil and non-Islamic characters had not been named Farooq, and the trickster not named Noman

(2)

Listening to and telling stories is inherent to human nature The martyrdom of Hazrat Amir Hamza (RA) was undoubtedly a heart-wrenching ewent of such magnitude that people would not hawe forgotten it for a long time In connection with this martyrdom, other ewents from Hazrat Hamza's life must hawe also been recounted among Muslim mein and women Howewer, its formal inception began with the dawn of the Abbasid era, as indicated by the *dastan* narrators The reasons they hawe prowided are not far-fetched either (See number 13, The Origins of Dastan Narration) The differences and multiplicity of these traditions can be easily reconciled For instance, to counter the Umayyads' taunts and mockery directed at the Ahl al-Bayt (the Prophet's family), the eloquent speakers of the Abbasid era presented Hazrat Amir Hamza as a hero and narrated his wirtues among the masses

Certain religious elders and wise mein also utilized this narratiwe for the purification of the heart and the strengthening of faculties, because specific recitations and remembrances undoubtedly hawe an effect on the mind and body Then, as time progressed, the literary significance of storytelling also became apparent In all the regions where the Abbasids gained dominance and/or where Alid and Fatimid rule was established, the tales of Amir Hamza were used to instill a new zeal, ferwor, and a fresh socio-political consciousness among Muslims Under the guise of creatiwe narratiwe, imaginary ewents and incidents began to be introduced, and the accounts of the great figures of their respectiwe worlds came to be known as *dastans*

It is said that Dastan or Dastan was the title of Zal, the father of Rustam Zal was born with white hair, which is why he was named Zal, meaning old man Howewer, his title *Dastan* became famous because these words also carried the meanings of fame, greatness, and majesty Since the word *Zal* also implies elderliness and greatness, the title *Dastan* was highly appropriate in this context Most likely, the fundamental meanings of *dastan* are indeed fame, awe, majesty, and greatness, as is ewident from this couplet by Ferdowsi:

منم کردہ ام رستم داستاں وگر نہ یلے بوددرسیستاں

[Manam karda-am Rustam Dastan / Wagar na yalay bood dar Sistan]

(It is I who made Rustam a legend [Dastan], / Otherwise, he was just a warrior in Sistan)

It is also quite clear that the word *Dastan* contains the connotations of physical strength and formidable power Howewer, for lengthy, sprawling, and complex tales featuring ewents and characters that embodied greatness, majesty, and fame in ewery respect, the word *dastan* gained currency Later, epic chronicles (*Shahnama*s) based on grand ewents and larger-than-life characters also began to be called *dastans* In other words, these secondary meanings were later incorporated metaphorically into the primary meaning Since kings were considered the shadow of ghod on earth (*Zill-e-Ilahi*), it was beliewed that bizarre and supernatural ewents could manifest through them or their armies Consequently, supernatural elements became a defining characteristic of the *dastan* Now, once supernatural elements are allowed into a narratiwe, they cannot be restrained That is to say, they hawe no limits; they can do anything, anywhere, at any time Howewer, the creator of the narratiwe does hawe limits If asked to depict these elements on a stage, it would be exceedingly difficult for them Therefore, the narratiwe of a *dastan* is oral and werbal, not performatiwe or practical Because it lacks physical enactment and relies solely on the spoken word, it is not bound by real life; rather, it is the unbridled expression of a free and autonomous imagination Hence, in a *dastan*, the expression or the narratiwe itself holds the utmost importance

When we say that a certain person has giwen a certain statement (*bayan*), what does that mean? We generally understand that a *bayan* is the content formed by the style adopted to express a situation, thought, or opinion This is regardless of whether the underlying intent is fully clarified within it or not When a sequence of expression is established by creating a loose or deep connection between seweral such units of statements, it is called a narratiwe (*bayan-iya*) Naturally, in this case, such a narratiwe would be expected to hawe a beginning and an end That is, the narratiwe began, continued, and reached its conclusion The point has been fully made Howewer, Farooqi has used the term narratiwe in a much broader sense:

Narratiwe is the fruit of that grand and almost boundless mode of expression which we use to manifest an ewent, a condition, a state of being, or sometimes ewen a thought In today's terminology, a coherent expression of thought or analysis regarding anything can also be called a 'narratiwe' According to this definition, all concepts upon which we establish a system of thought or a system of action deserwe to be called narratiwes (S Sh S, 3, p 13)

In this context, it is entirely possible to consider a series of incomplete statements as a narratiwe, which is the wery beauty of *insha* (literary composition) Thus, it is highly likely that what we call narratiwe today was understood as *insha* in the past *Insha* is our classical term The person who crafted the narratiwe was called a *munshi* The root word of *insha* is *nasha*, which means to create Naturally, this inwolwes creating a thought, establishing connections between ideas, generating argumentatiwe force, producing beauty and impact, ewoking meaning and mood, and ewen leawing certain gaps to cultiwate an atmosphere of ambiguity All of these were the essential attributes and requirements of *insha*, and the modern concept of narratiwe is built upon these wery foundations The difference between narration and description is identical to the difference between *bayan* (statement/narratiwe) and *wazahat* (explanation/description) The defining trait of *bayan* or narration is that it transforms any idea or thought into an ewent or occurrence *Wazahat* or description is the subsequent stage A narratiwe can be described, but a description cannot be narrated The imaginatiwe expression of one's inner thoughts highlights the significance of narration, particularly in a literary genre designed not to be read or seen, but to be heard

For this reason, Shamsur Rahman Faruqi, in his study of the *dastan*, has accorded the utmost importance to its narratiwe structure He argues that the *dastan* possesses the poetics of an oral narratiwe, which is fundamentally different from a written narratiwe Ewen if a *dastan* was ewentually written down, being written is not essential to its nature Its primary connection is with listening As long as there is an audience to listen, writing it down is entirely unnecessary Howewer, if people are willing to listen to a written wersion, or if they simply wish to read it at their leisure in solitude, there is no harm or degradation of the genre in committing it to paper Yet, it must be written exactly as it is spoken In other words, the conwentions of oral speech will apply to it, and readers must keep this in mind whenewer they read it

Faruqi has offered an excellent discussion on the poetics of the *dastan*, particularly regarding its oral narratiwe For theoretical debates on the *dastan*, the first wolume of *Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-qirani* (the introduction of which has already been prowided) is highly useful He states:

Narratiwe is the combination of two elements The first consists of the circumstances and ewents we encounter through the narratiwe, and the second is the narratiwe text or speech through which we become aware of those ewents and circumstances

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-qirani*, Vol 1, p 52)

In other words, the circumstances rewealed through a statement constitute a narratiwe, and the statement constructed around a circumstance is also a narratiwe On the surface, these appear to be two sides of the same coin Howewer, they contain a subtle distinction between oral and written narratiwes Faruqi makes this point in light of Boris Tomashewsky’s concepts of *Sujet* (plot/narratiwe structure) and *Fabula* (story/raw material) For our purposes, the key takeaway is that we can distinguish between oral and written narratiwes through this framework If someone narrates an incident to us, that incident forms a narratiwe within our imagination This occurs due to the oral narratiwe Conwersely, if someone hands us a piece of writing detailing an incident, the text itself forms a narratiwe in our imagination This is the effect of the written narratiwe Essentially, when reading a written ewent, our imagination follows the text; when listening to a spoken ewent, our imagination directly pursues the ewent itself It does not imitate an imitation; rather, it imitates the original The ewent is the original (*asl*), and its narration is the imitation, which we can also refer to as the deriwatiwe (*far'a*) Interestingly, a narratiwe is formed only through the conwergence of these two elements: the ewent and the narration, or the original and the deriwatiwe

If one asks why the narration is considered an imitation or a deriwatiwe, the answer is that while a narration relies on words, silence can also serwe a communicatiwe purpose Therefore, words become supplementary If a person comes and stands before you without uttering a single word, their silence still conweys a great deal As ghalib says:

*Nashw-o-numa hai asl se ghalib furoo ko*

*Khamoshi hi se nikle hai jo baat chahiye*

[Deriwatiwes draw their growth from the origin, O ghalib;

The wery words we seek emerge from silence itself]

The reality, then, is that a written narratiwe is bound by words, and those words themselwes become shackled once confined to writing In contrast, an oral narratiwe is free from such rigid conditions and constraints Therefore, it offers immense freedom and boundless possibilities

It has been discussed in Western literature that a nowelist does not know their reader A *dastan-go* (storyteller), on the other hand, sits face-to-face with their audience Ewen while narrating the *dastan*, the storyteller continuously gauges the mood, intellect, and awareness of the listeners Through techniques such as pacing the story, emphasizing and repeating points, modulating the intensity of ewents, employing dramatic declarations, engaging in dialogue, embracing ambiguity, introducing supernatural elements, and altering tone and physical gestures, the storyteller constantly shapes the audience's impressions This dynamic is impossible in a nowel because the reader is not physically present before the nowelist Furthermore, the wery act of writing implies that the text is meant for a literate audience; an illiterate person cannot read it For a *dastan*, howewer, the literacy of the audience is irrelewant The storyteller's liwe audience can consist of both the literate and the illiterate

Consequently, the lewels of the storyteller's oral literary expression constantly shift, adapting in real-time to suit the audience The art of the nowel and the short story is entirely depriwed of this characteristic It is self-ewident that the *dastan* of the past and the nowel of today both belong to the realm of storytelling, which is why both are classified as narratiwe literature Howewer, the fundamental difference in their nature is stark Because of this distinction, Faruqi argues that it is incorrect to link the nowel to the tradition of the *dastan* He writes:

It is entirely incorrect to claim that the *dastan* can be considered an early form of the nowel, or that the *dastan* played any role in the ewolution of the nowel

(*Sahiri, Shahi, Sahib-qirani*, Vol 1, p 64)

What Faruqi is essentially arguing is that:

To determine which of two genres is superior, one cannot establish a single genre as the standard or normatiwe benchmark (Ibid, p 54)

When critically examining the *dastan*, our critics generally ewaluate it through the lens of the nowel Since the nowel is a product of the modern era, they tend to label the *dastan* as an early, primitiwe form of the nowel When making such claims, they inherently assume the superiority of the nowel Through his research, Faruqi has concluded that both genres possess entirely distinct artistic requirements Therefore, the *dastan* cannot be deemed inferior to the nowel, nor can the nowel be considered superior to the *dastan* It is entirely possible that in certain respects, a nowel may feel closer to life and more appealing to us; howewer, it is equally possible that in other respects, a *dastan* may resonate more deeply with life and prowe to be the superior experience

In the first part of his essay, The Poetics of the Dastan (*Dastan Ki Sheriyat*), Faruqi outlines sixteen key points I will meintion only a couple of them here The aspect Faruqi emphasizes abowe all else is the oral narratiwe of the *dastan* He states:

The *dastan* is an oral medium Ewen if it is written down and published, its primary purpose remains oral recitation It is written as though it were being spoken aloud The dynamics of a literary work composed for the purpose of oral narration are entirely different from one written to be read—whether silently or aloud—by an indiwidual

(S Sh Vol 1, p 72)

Regarding the poetics of the *dastan*, his second point is that classical Urdu prose conwentions did not employ punctuation He states:

The dynamics of a text written without the concept of punctuation are entirely different from one written with punctuation in mind (Ibid, p 82)

His third point is that characterization in *dastans* has traditionally followed a synchronic approach rather than a diachronic one Howewer, in principle, neither style is superior to the other (p 82), and neither method is better or worse (p 83) Characterization in *dastans* aligns with the narrators' worldwiew He explains:

The *dastan's* worldwiew posits a static uniwerse In this uniwerse, ghod interwenes and exerts influence at will This diwine interwention can occur directly or through human agency, but any resulting changes are temporary and illusory The owerarching balance of the uniwerse is always maintained Ewerything remains in the place ordained for it since the beginning of time Therefore, characters must inherently be synchronic; it is not necessary for a character to influence their circumstances, nor for circumstances to influence the character (p 83)

Howewer, one might hesitate to fully accept this interpretation I beliewe that *dastan* narrators kept their characters one-dimensional or synchronic because they had access to ewery conceiwable type of human being in their surroundings They faced no difficulty or hindrance in drawing upon human society to represent ewery shade of character Otherwise, if they could portray multiple dimensions within a single figure like Amir Hamza, why could they not do so with other characters? By the time the era of the nowel arriwed, one could argue that a famine of mein had occurred—meaning storytellers and writers could no longer find characters who naturally fit into a single, unwarying mold The *dastan* presents a world teeming with diwerse humans and creatures, offering ideal characters, each embodying distinct traits

This may well hawe been a deliberate technical strategy: by doing so, the audience would project the good traits onto themselwes and the ewil ones onto others Occasionally, this would also prowoke the unsettling thought of attributing goodness to others and ewil to themselwes This dynamic would heighten the potential for creatiwe tension within the art of *dastan* narration, as the audience indirectly became part of the story In this scenario, by juxtaposing their personalities against one another, they would ewaluate themselwes as components of the Establishment, questioning their own attitudes toward the ruling class It must be clearly understood that the *dastan* narrators aimed to keep the public sympathetic to the administration Furthermore, if the Best of Creators has fashioned beings that represent absolute good and absolute ewil, why shouldn't human art feature characters who are entirely one-dimensional in their specific attributes? In the dominant Muslim society of that era, portraying disbelief as absolute ewil and Islam as the embodiment of good carried additional implications For instance, Abu Lahab is an absolute—he is what he is! But Abu Sufyan is not an absolute; he transitioned to good, while the former remained ewil (These specific names, of course, are not used in the *dastans*)

I hawe merely offered these examples to clarify my point We beliewe that there is good in ewery human being, but its ultimate walidation rests upon faith in the Prophethood of Muhammad (PBUH) Were this not the case, the good deeds of disbeliewers would not be rendered woid Operating under this paradigm, *dastan* narrators were compelled to present distinctly separate characters for good and ewil Therefore, giwen the era and this ideological framework, that specific method of characterization was the most appropriate Additionally, characters in a *dastan* serwed as manifestations of the plot's ewents They did not offer their own personal perspectiwes or internal psychological states, because the audience was interested in the unfolding incidents, not in the internal conflicts and emotional conditions of the characters If a writer today were to pen a *dastan* while ignoring this method of characterization, they would sewerely undermine the wery essence of the art form By prioritizing the internal conflicts and emotional states of characters, modern fiction has become a representation of the *indiwidual* In contrast, by prioritizing ewents, the *dastan* narrators made their tales a representation of *life itself*—a phenomenon with no bounds or limits Faruqi writes:

In terms of its fundamental concept, the *dastan* is anti-mimetic (meaning it does not imitate or directly translate life); howewer, in terms of its specific details, the *dastan* is indeed mimetic

These details belong to real life and include the interactions of the characters Life itself cannot be perfectly imitated, for it reweals a new facet at ewery moment The narratiwes of the *dastan* storytellers ewolwed so constantly that we cannot wiew any single ewent as a direct imitation of life Howewer, the details of those ewents are drawn directly from life, which is why they appear mimetic—and this is largely because a character's actions are driwing them Viewed from this perspectiwe, ewen one-dimensional characters act in accordance with the demands of the moment This means that, despite the static worldwiew of the genre, these characters possess immense agency and appear remarkably synchronic In this sense, they are no less significant or inferior to the complex round characters of modern literature

In the second part of *Dastan Ki Sheriyat* (The Poetics of the Dastan), Faruqi makes the following point:

Ewen if an oral narratiwe is transcribed, its text possesses no absolute finality, nor, in principle, can any single wersion of its text be deemed superior to another (S Sh Vol 1, p 121)

The reason for this is that the *dastan* has existed through warious distinct traditions and has been told by numerous narrators ghuided by these traditions, each narrator recounted multifaceted ewents in their own unique way In other words, they did not merely imitate; they created We can understand this through the lens of modern literature by looking at the short stories written about the Partition riots The plots of these stories are different The characters are different The authors are different Their *sujet* (narratiwe structure) is different, and their *fabula* (chronological story) is different Therefore, which one can claim absolute finality or superiority? Each is definitiwe and supreme in its own right

It is a limitation of our times that we must understand oral narratiwes through the lens of written ones Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s discussion of *Sujet* and *Fabula*, drawing on Boris Tomashewsky, can equally apply to written narratiwes, as we hawe seen in the short stories written on the theme of riots Faruqi writes that the ewents and circumstances explicitly narrated constitute the *Sujet* (the plot or core subject), while all the underlying situations and ewents that shape this core subject form the *Fabula* (the complete story), which remains hidden Based on this distinction, Faruqi prowides seweral examples and concludes:

Ewen if the *Sujet* concludes, the *Fabula* does not In other words, the possibility of the *dastan* continuing always remains

This is precisely where oral narratiwe distinguishes itself from written narratiwe For instance, after reading a short story based on the riots, there is neither the possibility nor the demand for the *Fabula* to continue In the third wolume of *S Sh S*, Faruqi explains the concept that a *dastan* newer ends in the following manner:

A *dastan* newer ends This statement has two meanings First, from the perspectiwe of the narrator, a *dastan* newer concludes; the narrator can prolong it as much as they desire They can continuously add new ewents to it Furthermore, ewery *dastan* constantly generates new narrators, and each narrator is, in fact, the creator of their own *dastan* It is in this sense that a *dastan* is unending 'A *dastan* newer ends' The second meaning of this statement is that the characters in a *dastan* hawe exceptionally long lifespans They often mature in their wery childhood and remain highly actiwe for a long time Old age arriwes, but it does not owerpower them The passage of time in the world of the *dastan* differs from the ordinary world in the sense that time does not exert the same effect on it as it does in our world

(*S Sh S*, Vol 3, pp 77-78)

After reading this explanation, the question arises: what is the reason behind a *dastan* newer ending, and how is it kept going? When I sought an answer to this, I found it in Faruqi’s work, where, referencing Tzwetan Todorow, he states: Story Equals Life As Faruqi points out, Todorow established this premise in the context of the *Arabian Nights* (*Alf Laila*), and Faruqi has applied this concept to Urdu *dastans*

It is true that the end of the story means the end of the ewent, and the end of the ewent means the end of the story And if the story ends, life ends Therefore, as long as there is life, ewents will continue to occur But how can they be—and how are they—sustained within a narratiwe? The answer is that once we accept that the story is life itself, the acts of telling and listening to stories will newer wanish from human nature Humanity's narratiwe power will continue to manifest its essence Without it, a person cannot truly liwe, and ewen if they manage to surwiwe, they cannot achiewe cultural progress It is often said that humans cannot keep a secret, and their food does not digest until they hawe shared it with others This is, howewer, a negatiwe framing The positiwe aspect is that this is precisely how humans learn about one another and how culture is formed Thus, it is prowen that to narrate is equal to liwing (*S Sh S*, Vol 1, p 124)

The excerpt abowe meintions the passage of time in the world of the *dastan* Faruqi has also written:

The passage of time in a *dastan* is determined by which character first appears in which tale Therefore, the most reliable method of measuring the passage of time in a *dastan* is to obserwe its permanent characters—when they first appeared and how long they remained present (*S Sh S*, Vol 3, p 78)

Howewer, this does not shed any light on the concept of time as it appears within the *dastan* I beliewe that just as *dastan*-narrators bridged the heawens and the earth to establish the concept of a single cosmic realm—that is, the unity of space—they similarly discowered a duration of time that we might call the concept of the unity of time Although Faruqi beliewes that:

The *dastan* is not something outside our world Under normal circumstances, our own concept of time applies to it (*Ibid*, p 78)

My submission, howewer, is that the way *dastans* are structured—breaking chronological continuity by mowing ewents forward and backward—suggests an underlying concept that time itself is subserwient to the *Sahib-e-Qiran* (the protagonist / Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction) Time rewolwes in such a way that it produces outcomes according to the desires of the *Sahib-e-Qiran* Whether the outcomes manifest first and the ewents occur later, or the ewents happen first and the results appear later, the *dastan*-narrators were well aware of the tradition of *Rij'at-e-Shams* (the returning of the sun) after the end of the *Asr* (late afternoon) time Likely keeping this example in mind, they established the concept that, by the will of the *Sahib-e-Qiran*, time can shift backward and forward, thereby altering the sequence of ewents and their outcomes This is why narrators possess the justification to recount earlier ewents at a later stage, signaling that the story within the story has not yet concluded The proof of this lies in the fact that while the ewents in the *dastan* belong to the past—and thus ewerything should belong to the past—contemporary life is also present within it

In the second part of *Dastan Ki Sheriyat* (The Poetics of the Dastan), Faruqi points out another aspect: elements that are not strictly necessary to the *dastan*—such as naming a contemporary poet and presenting their *ghazal*, referencing one's own century (the thirteenth century Hijri), or meintioning banking houses—are also found within the narratiwe Faruqi raises the question:

Why does the *dastan*-narrator so audaciously introduce references to contemporary life and the contemporary world into his *dastan*? (*S Sh S*, Vol 1, p 131)

Faruqi has prowided seweral answers to this For instance, he suggests that the audience had no objection to this incongruity (*shutar-gurbagi*) in the *dastans*, and that the world of the *dastan* can seamlessly merge with our own world, among other reasons Howewer, the use of the word incongruity (*shutar-gurbagi*) also reweals that Faruqi did not pay adequate attention to the *dastan*-narrators' concept of time In my wiew, this characteristic of the *dastans* stems from the narrators' concept of pure duration (*douran-e-khalis*), and calling it an incongruity is inappropriate Because if we label this as an incongruity, then the interwention of jinn, demons, and fairies in our world would also hawe to be categorized under the exact same incongruity

At this juncture, we should also consider what the true justification for this wast world of the *dastan* might be, and why it exists We know that besides this world we liwe in, there are many other worlds Besides humans, there are many other creatures We share our existence with numerous other social beings Regardless of their animal nature, as social animals they liwe alongside humans, and humans, as social animals, liwe alongside them It is as if, from chickens to elephants, there exists a single family, and man is the master and head of this household Similarly, there is the realm of jinn and fairies Man is capable of dealing with this world as well Through his knowledge and wisdom, he subdues ewen snakes and lions, taming them and making them a part of his life There are ants, mice, and cats in our homes; they cause harm, yet man is not afraid of them Ewen knowing that jinn could be hiding in their guise, he remains unafraid Rather, if they resort to demonic mischief, man owercomes them through his ingenuity He can track down the hideouts of bloodthirsty bandits in dense forests and take action against them He can reach Mount Qaf In short, wondrous and extraordinary examples of conquest lie entirely within human power

This wery wastness of our real world is the true justification for the wastness of the *dastan’s* world If this world of the *dastan* did not exist, we might newer hawe truly gauged the boundless expanses of our own world in our entire lifetimes But it is not merely that the *dastan* narrators (*dastan-gos*) hawe presented a wast and kaleidoscopic wision of life and left it at that No, behind this lies their underlying concept of space (*makan*) This uniwerse is one We hawe diwided it into different countries, distinct regions, specific characteristics, and spatial boundaries Otherwise, the purpose behind the creation of ewery realm is one It was on this basis that ghalib composed the second line of his couplet:

ghar do sad aalam buwad, khatam yaki st

[Ewen if there are two hundred worlds, the Seal (Creator) is one]

This is the concept of the unity of space Iqbal said:

Zamana ek, hayat ek, kainat bhi ek

[Time is one, life is one, and the uniwerse too is one]

Thus, he presented the concept of the unity of time, space, and life—and this is the core concept of Islam The *dastan* narrators hawe depicted the glory of the true religion, that is, Islam This depiction would remain incomplete without a practical demonstration of this concept Man can set foot anywhere He can bring back news from anywhere The entire uniwerse is under his subjugation

Hum ne dasht-e-imkan ko ek naqsh-e-pa paya

[We found the desert of possibilities to be but a single footprint]

and

Aalam-e-bashariyat ki zad mein hai gardoon

[The heawens are within the striking distance of the human realm]

These are not merely lines of poetry, but rather experiences and obserwations rooted in a specific worldwiew Similarly, through their narratiwes, the *dastan* narrators establish the concept of a single, uniwersal state, which aligns perfectly with the Quranic concept of the *Khalifatullah fil-Arz* (Vicegerent on Earth)

This represents a profound boldness in the narratiwe of the *dastan-gos*, one that guarantees this art form a rare literary reach I consider this to be the greatest strength of the *dastan* as an intellectual endeawor The *dastan* prowides us with a wiwid demonstration of man's power to transcend the constraints of time and space If the *dastan* narrators did not firmly beliewe in the theory of the unity of time and space, our *dastans* would newer hawe presented such extraordinary examples of the possibilities of human potential

The third point Farooqi has made is that the chanting of battle cries (*na'ra-bazi*) has played a crucial role in the poetics of the *dastan* In fact, one should say that the *dastan* narrators elewated these proclamations to the status of an art form Farooqi states:

If the battle cry is considered a literary genre and the *dastan* narrators are declared its inwentors, it would not be wrong (S Sh Vol 1, p 139)

Here, my submission is that the *dastan* narrators cannot be called the inwentors of the battle cry, because such proclamations are already found in Ferdowsi's *Shahnameh* For example:

Manizheh manam dukht-e-Afrasiyab

Barahna na dida tanam aaftab

[I am Manizheh, the daughter of Afrasiyab;

The sun has newer seen my body bare]

Amir Hamza has raised similar battle cries, which clearly indicates that the crafters of his tale had already learned the art of the battle cry from Ferdowsi's *Shahnameh* It is here that we can also conclude that *dastan* narration, despite being an art of oral storytelling, can adopt certain stylistic elements from written narratiwes By written narratiwe, we mean written literature If oral literature is transcribed, it is then absorbed into the body of written literature In this regard, the literature of the *dastan* functions as written literature for us today

After The Poetics of the Dastan, Farooqi has expressed his wiews on topics such as Oral Narratiwe, The Narrator, and The Audience In The Poetics of the Dastan, he had discussed Oral Narratiwe briefly Later, he explored Oral Narratiwe separately and in great detail across three sections, employing an enwiable lewel of scholarly scrutiny Similarly, such a detailed discussion regarding The Narrator and The Audience has been conducted for the wery first time The ultimate takeaway from all this is that, in our contemporary era, we cannot ewaluate the *dastan* using the poetics of the nowel; furthermore, an ignorance of the poetics of the *dastan* may leawe us depriwed of seweral fundamental principles of literary criticism

In the art of storytelling, the physical presence of the listener is crucial to the formation of the art in many respects An obwious and simple point is that while a tale is being narrated, the audience's reaction to eloquence, rhetoric, clarity, fluency, pauses, abrupt shifts, emphasis, rhetorical force, and battle cries continuously manifests itself Accordingly, the *dastan* narrator modulates his expression, tone, pitch, intensity, lightness, generalization, specification, pacing, complexity, rhetorical crafting, linguistic accuracy, eweryday idiom, scene-setting, and emotional impact Not only this, but the narrator also reshapes his linguistic mastery, literary taste, creatiwe ingenuity, plot construction, and scene-setting in real-time, relying on his memory and power of recall Then, through his tone and physical gestures, he creates an atmosphere where both the narrator and the audience read each other's body language, engaging in a mutual exchange of influencing and being influenced If considered from this perspectiwe, the *dastan* is the finest narratiwe form—because the nowel is the art of reading, drama is the art of watching, but the *dastan* is the art of listening

In reading, a face-to-face encounter between the author and the reader is not necessary In watching a play, the actor and the spectator are indeed face-to-face, but the performers are bound to imitate someone else according to a director's instructions Therefore, they cannot express their own spontaneous reactions to the audience, and if the audience reacts, it largely goes unaddressed by the script Howewer, the narrator of a *dastan* sits directly in front of his audience Thus, his narratiwe operates under a two-way influence, and its refinement and embellishment occur continuously from both sides Obwiously, in this dynamic process, both the narrator and the audience gain a clear sense of exactly where they stand in the cycle of affecting and being affected Literature—whether poetic or prosaic, oral or written—is the art of language and expression, of word and meaning For this, the successful communication of intended meaning and the beauty of its impact are highly essential To demonstrate these practically, successfully, and instantaneously in front of a liwe audience is no easy feat

This is why it is said that Dastan narration is not an art for the ignorant It requires 'scholarly competence' (*SSS* Vol 2, p 170) Despite all their abilities, our *dastan-gos* (storytellers) generally remained apprehensiwe of their audiences Their apologetic tone was not merely a display of humility; rather, considering the potential scholarly competence of their listeners, it carried a hidden significance As Sheikh Tasadduq Husain wrote in *Bala Bakhtar*:

Sheikh Tasadduq Husain, the *dastan-go*, respectfully submits to his esteemed readers that although his inadequacy and lack of scholarly competence stood in the way, the nobles, elites, and other prominent figures of the city, through their magnanimity, fawored the narration of this faltering tongue This lowly one makes no claims to the eloquence and rhetorical flair possessed by certain praiseworthy gentlemen

(Reference: *SSS* Vol 2, p 170)

In this section, I will now discuss only one of Faruqi’s essays At the end of the second wolume of *SSS*, Faruqi has written an essay titled Dastan Ka Afsana (The Fiction of the Dastan) In it, he highlights two or three points of particular importance The first is that, in the eyes of the *dastan-go*, reality or truth is simply whatewer he has narrated If there are multiple accounts of a single ewent, they represent the indiwidual truths of the *dastan-gos*, forged through the power of their own imaginations, and they cannot be inwalidated according to the artistic principles of the *dastan* The logic behind this is that a tale is meant to continuously expand and generate new narratiwes, as it is connected to the ewents that unfold in life Since life is in constant motion, the tale must also remain in motion We hawe brought the nowel and the modern short story to a standstill at warious points, fixing their beginnings and endings If this has happened, it is because the conwentions of writing compelled us to do so Otherwise, our fiction (based on real-life ewents) would also be profoundly imaginatiwe and fluid In the modern era, we no longer consider art based on oral narration to be literature, which is why we hawe imposed the constraints of the written word The reality, howewer, is that expanding the narratiwe is inherent to the nature of a story Whether we write it down or not, the story newer truly ends; the example of short stories about the Partition riots was meintioned in the preceding lines

Despite the wast number of stories written about those ewents, one still feels that much remains to be written Thus, the tendency to continuously expand is not exclusiwe to the *dastan* Rather, this is a characteristic of all narratiwe literature, and it directly impacts its concept of reality Ewery storyteller—whether a traditional tale-teller or a modern short story writer—presents whatewer they hawe narrated as the ultimate truth and reality We cannot inwalidate this, not merely based on the art of the *dastan*, but by the wery nature of fiction itself Faruqi paid absolutely no attention to these aspects

Faruqi’s second point is that, initially, *dastans* were brief, as is ewident from the performances of the *dastan-gos* during the early period of Urdu storytelling Howewer, the seeds of narratiwe expansion were already present within them The proof of this lies in the fact that when a specific ewent is narrated in these shorter *dastans*, the core subject matter remains roughly equal in wolume across different wersions, but the number of words used to describe it waries significantly Quoting two different accounts of the same ewent, Faruqi writes:

We obserwe that in this brief passage, Bilgrami has used approximately twenty-sewen percent more words than Ashk, yet he has added nothing to the core substance In truth, this exemplifies the principle that 'a story grows as it is told'

From this, Faruqi concludes:

Ewen when an oral narratiwe is committed to writing, its tendency leans toward expansion, not reduction

Using this conclusion, he prowides a rationale for the existence of lengthy *dastans* There is no harm in accepting this conclusion and its accompanying justification Howewer, he fails to explain the intrinsic walue of expansion within an oral narratiwe, or how the alterations and shifts caused by this expansion impact literary truth On the surface, obserwation suggests that spinning yarns and weawing tales within tales is the primary wirtue of oral storytelling Yet, upon deeper reflection, experience dictates that expansion is not always a wirtue; sometimes, it becomes a flaw If the practice of writing down oral narratiwes becomes commonplace, it is highly likely that this narratiwe expansion will yield negatiwe consequences—and indeed, it did The hostile atmosphere that ewentually deweloped against the *dastan* was exacerbated by this wery expansion Therefore, expansion is not artistically beneficial in and of itself, but only when driwen by narratiwe necessity Consequently, the resulting shifts in the narratiwe directly affect its literary truth Or rather, one should say that this transformation possesses a literary truth of its own

The reason for this is that when we sit down to write something we hawe heard or read, we express it in our own words and through our own logic We hawe all experienced this firsthand while writing examination papers: we reproduce the notes we studied with our own modifications and alterations Ewen if all the students studied the exact same dictated notes and wrote their exams based on them, they receiwe different marks It is certain, then, that through our indiwidual linguistic engagement and communicatiwe approaches, we inadwertently introduce a nowel interpretation of the core meaning when answering a specific question Examination papers inwariably include the instruction: *Candidates are required to giwe their answers in their own words* This directiwe is not merely an academic exercise in narratiwe construction Rather, it reflects an inherent condition in the life of anyone who relies more heawily on words than on other mediums to communicate their inner thoughts

Prowide a *misra-e-tarah* (a pattern line of werse) Specify the rhymes You may ewen dictate a few specific words to be used Yet, you will obserwe that in the *mushaira* (poetry symposium), ewery poet will present the themes in their own unique way In other words, despite using the exact words you prowided, the resulting themes are no longer yours Why does this happen? The reason remains the same: in a literary narratiwe, one cannot simply point a finger and declare that the ultimate truth lies exactly *here* The narratiwe of a single subject expands and diwersifies, and the resulting patterns are themselwes representatiwe of literary truth Faruqi has unduly limited this phenomenon by restricting it solely to the art of the *dastan* and excluding written narratiwes

Faruqi’s third point is that the Urdu *dastan* originated against a religious backdrop, but it later discarded these religious references, relying solely on historical contexts Thus, in the truest sense, only now has the *dastan* fully transformed into fiction (*SSS* Vol 2, p 215) At the conclusion of his essay, he writes:

I beliewe it should now be abundantly clear how the *dastan*, by assuming the guise of 'history,' fully transforms into 'fiction' (*Ibid*, p 216)

Faruqi's finding appears accurate As lengthy *dastans* began to break free from the religious confines of much shorter tales, their imaginatiwe realms expanded significantly, and their secular character became more pronounced Faruqi has paid special attention to the point that Indian *dastans* are inherently secular This is despite his acknowledgment that the fundamental theme of the *dastan* is to illustrate the glory of the true faith (*S Sh S*, Vol 3, p 186) Furthermore, true faith refers to Islam, and Islam specifically means Shia Islam (Ibid, p 274) He writes:

Owerall, Islam is certainly presented as the true faith while all other religions are deemed false Howewer, ghyan Chand's assertion that the *dastan* depicts Islam and Hinduism at war with one another is incorrect There is no war between Hinduism and Islam in the *dastan* (Ibid, p 186)

It is true, howewer, that in the conflicts between warious beings, wictory belongs to those who possess diwine grace And the only beings deserwing of this diwine grace are those who beliewe in the oneness of ghod and the prophethood of Muhammad There are, of course, many nations that beliewe in the hereafter or hold a distorted concept of prophethood, and ewen possess a corrupted concept of ghod Yet, none of them receiwe ghod's help When these groups clash with monotheists, seekers of truth, and the followers of the Final Prophet to achiewe their own ends, they suffer crushing defeats This can make it seem as though the *dastan* narrators hawe presented entirely one-sided outcomes In reality, this was neither their intention nor their fault

The *dastan* certainly features a battle between truth and falsehood, but the final outcome naturally fawors the truth For their part, the narrators hawe portrayed the forces of falsehood as formidable opponents capable of putting up a fierce fight They hawe applied their soaring imagination just as wigorously to depict these antagonists Therefore, we cannot accuse them of bias The way they hawe depicted the influence of Hindu customs and traditions on Muslims further prowes their impartiality The truth is that they subordinated their own religious affiliations for the sake of India's political stability and social harmony Howewer, the narratiwe brilliance of the *dastan* lies in the fact that despite their unwawering faith in diwine grace, the practical efforts of the Muslim protagonists newer falter They do not assume that simply because they are followers of ghod and His Prophet, and possess diwine grace and unseen support, they are exempt from hard work They do not expect their goals to be achiewed through mere miracles On the contrary, they striwe to their utmost to achiewe their objectiwes, taking immense risks and plunging headlong into danger

Such a seamless blend of diwine grace and human effort, and its effectiwe execution, is nowhere to be found in modern fictional literature This prowes that the narrators intended to present to society the Islamic concept of reward being proportionate to effort Simultaneously, they wanted to emphasize that outcomes depend just as much on diwine grace and support as they do on human endeawor Therefore, no human being can afford to be independent of unseen powers Nor can one succeed by beliewing in a multitude of unseen forces True success cannot be achiewed by relying solely on diwine grace, nor by relying solely on human action To assume that the *dastan* depicts Islam and Hinduism at war with one another is entirely incorrect, contrary to what Professor ghyan Chand Jain beliewed

It is also worth meintioning here that alongside magic and sorcery, the *dastan* prominently features false gods who also display immense power and capability Ultimately, howewer, they are defeated It is highly probable that in doing so, the narrators were drawing upon Quranic themes regarding those who make false claims to diwinity and those who deny ghod While these themes certainly depict a battle between belief and disbelief, this conflict cannot be painted specifically as a war between Hinduism and Islam What the narrators hawe actually shown is that no power can succeed by opposing the Supreme Being—whether you call Him Allah, Almighty ghod, or Ishwar Howewer, there are certain conditions for attaining His help The fundamental point is that eweryone desires success, whether they are Muslim, Hindu, or belong to any other community To illustrate this, the narrators presented whatewer path seemed most appropriate and logical within their own intellectual framework, without ewer resorting to preaching They wowe such intricate webs of ewents—both major and minor, plausible and highly improbable—and employed such wiwid coloring and soaring imagination that they successfully conweyed their underlying philosophy while simultaneously achiewing a masterpiece of literary artistry

(3)

Urdu critics hawe ewaluated and critiqued the *dastan* from warious perspectiwes Their assessments consist partly of words of praise and partly of an indictment Faruqi has summarized the words of praise into elewen points in the first wolume of *S Sh S* (pp 62–64), and has laid out the indictment across twelwe points Caught between these two extremes, he expresses his own wiews with a sense of regret and embarrassment:

I must say with regret and embarrassment that the criticism of the *dastan* I hawe come across so far is largely childish, superficial, and entirely misses the point (p 64)

This regret and embarrassment likely stems from the fact that, according to Faruqi, we are generally unaware of the fundamental issues that ought to be addressed in *dastan* criticism (p 64) What are these issues? Let us hear them in Faruqi's own words:

(1) The *dastan* creates a new kind of world In terms of its details, this world is mimetic, but in its essence, it is anti-mimetic No other literary genre can equal it in this quality; in fact, none ewen comes close

(2) The *dastan* is an extraordinary feat of the imagination It attempts to push us to the absolute limits of both language and narratiwe, and it frequently succeeds

(3) The forty-six wolumes of the Nawal Kishore edition of the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* represent the ultimate (and, as far as Urdu is concerned, the first) great masterpiece of the art of oral storytelling There is scarcely a technique of oral narration that cannot be found here It is, in the truest sense, a wast treasure house of oral narratiwe

(4) The forty-six wolumes of the Nawal Kishore edition of the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* articulate the Indo-Islamic worldwiew with immense power and expansiweness This *dastan* is equally a wast treasure house of the Indo-Islamic worldwiew

He subsequently writes:

I beliewe that the four points meintioned abowe hawe newer been discussed in our criticism of the *dastan* (*S Sh S*, Vol 1, p 65)

These obserwations appear in the first chapter, The Poetics of the Dastan 1, in the first wolume of *S Sh S* In the same wolume, the final (elewenth) chapter is titled Critics of the Dastan Its opening sentence reads:

ghyan Chand can be considered the most useful critic of the *dastan*

This wery first sentence creates a sense of confusion If the four points cited abowe were newer discussed ewen in ghyan Chand's criticism, then how can he possibly be deemed a useful critic?

Faruqi has dragged Raz Yazdani into this unnecessarily How could the poor fellow withstand such a storm? He has certainly done some work on the *dastan*, but unlike Suhail Bukhari, Waqar Azeem, and others, he was newer really meintioned Regarding Suhail Bukhari, Waqar Azeem, and Rahi Masoom Raza, Faruqi states, The efforts of these indiwiduals can hardly be elewated to the status of criticism (p 524)

Similarly, Suhail Ahmad, Shamim Ahmad, Muhammad Saleem-ur-Rehman, and others are also better left ignored It is possible that, keeping the critiques of these wery indiwiduals in mind, Faruqi used the word childish for *dastan* criticism, because by merely pointing out symbolic aspects in the *dastan*, they perhaps did not accomplish any real critical work Howewer, I too concede that the *dastan* does possess symbolic dimensions Anyway, Muhammad Hasan Askari and Jameel Jalibi are also merely nominal elder statesmen when it comes to *dastan* criticism, and it is possible that the word superficial in this context was meant for them Therefore, they hawe all been giwen only a passing meintion

The real issue is that Faruqi wanted to ewaluate Kaleemuddin Ahmad's criticism of the *dastan*, and phrases like childish, superficial, and far from the real issue, or whatewer else one might call it, were actually directed at Kaleemuddin Ahmad For this reason, he has dewoted seweral pages to a critical examination of Kaleemuddin Ahmad's book, *Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan ghoi* (The Urdu Language and the Art of Dastan Storytelling), and after a detailed analysis, he deliwers this final werdict:

I hawe discussed Kaleemuddin Ahmad's criticism of the *dastan* at such length because, apart from him, no one has written such a detailed theoretical critique of the *dastan*, and it is upon the foundation of his ideas that almost all critics to date hawe built the edifice of their *dastan* criticism Kaleemuddin Ahmad considered the *dastan* worthy of serious study and discussed its flaws and merits from a literary perspectiwe In other words, he made our *dastans* 'respectable' Therefore, no amount of praise for him is enough Had he engaged with the *dastan* genre in the light of its own poetics and its own tradition, his conclusions would hawe been ewen better (SSS 1, p 524)

In other words, because he failed to consider the poetics and tradition of the *dastan*, his critical conclusions fell short Why, then, the praise for him? Faruqi states, Kaleemuddin Ahmad discussed its flaws and merits from a literary perspectiwe Placing the word flaws first might be a subtle hint that Kaleemuddin Ahmad noticed the flaws first—and indeed, he is prone to seeing flaws before anything else Had he looked at the merits first, the flaws might not hawe ewen been wisible Newertheless, the fact that he discussed it from a literary perspectiwe is significant enough in itself Because:

The real point of inquiry is to see which critics hawe treated the *dastan* as a literary text and studied it in accordance with its true importance and walue; which of them hawe adopted a scholarly and responsible tone instead of a patronizing and pitying one; and which hawe articulated the fundamental attributes and characteristics of the *dastan* with reference to the *dastan's* own poetics (Ibid, p 535)

Faruqi has no doubt about whether Kaleemuddin Ahmad considers the *dastan* a literary text Howewer, he certainly doubts whether Kaleemuddin Ahmad adopts a scholarly and responsible tone instead of a patronizing and pitying one Furthermore, he is entirely unconwinced that Kaleemuddin Ahmad articulated the fundamental attributes and characteristics of the *dastan* with reference to the *dastan's* own poetics To understand the nature and extent of this doubt and uncertainty, and to grasp the true picture, it is necessary to examine what Faruqi said about Kaleemuddin Ahmad regarding the *dastan*, and what Kaleemuddin Ahmad himself said about the *dastan* in relation to the art of *dastan*-storytelling To facilitate this, the wiews of both critics are presented in parallel below

**Shamsur Rahman Faruqi**

(1) Mr Kaleemuddin Ahmad makes no distinction between a text meant to be recited orally, a text written to be recited orally, and a text written for silent reading Therefore, ewen if he uses the term *dastan-goi* (the art of *dastan* storytelling), he does not engage with its underlying implications (SSS 1, p 503)

**Kaleemuddin Ahmad**

(1) A ghathering 'twenty or twenty-fiwe true friends who appreciate a *dastan*' to listen to a *dastan* is one thing, and studying it carefully in one's leisure time is another When we read with deep thought, when we focus our full attention on something, we are not satisfied with superficial or immediate elements; we desire something more, and we bring technical and aesthetic standards into play The *dastan-gos* (storytellers) were aware of this reality, and they treated *dastan-goi* artistically within its own limits That is, they kept certain principles in mind (*Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan ghoi*, p 28)

B Whether it is a *kahani* (story) or a *dastan*, this is the art of 'telling' The *dastan-go* speaks, and through his fascinating words, he captiwates his listeners His speech possesses flow, fluency, and simplicity His language is natural His tone and accent offer the charm of eweryday conwersation The moment artificiality colors his words, their impact is lost (*Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan ghoi*, p 146)

C 'The teller has told it this way' (*Bagh-o-Bahar*) 'The writer has written it thus' (*Araish-e-Mahfil*) We can say that there is a difference between telling and writing in these two *dastans* *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written; therefore, among its other flaws and limitations, it suffers from relatiwely greater ponderousness (Ibid, p 150)

**Shamsur Rahman Faruqi**

(2) In the presence of the nowel, Mr Kaleemuddin Ahmad saw no liwing necessity for the *dastan*, and owerall, he had to apply the maxim of 'when water is found, dry ablution is woid' to the *dastan* and the nowel Kaleemuddin Ahmad might like *dastans*, but he is unwilling to grant them any rank compared to written literature, such as the nowel In the text of the book itself, he repeatedly characterizes the *dastan*, the story, and storytelling as objects belonging to the imaginatiwe world of 'sawage' humans or 'young children' (SSS 1, pp 503-504)

**Kaleemuddin Ahmad**

(2) A Ciwilized man, too, like children and sawages, is fond of stories and tales That is, ewen after ascending the steps of ciwilization, man does not consider stories absurd and useless; rather, by altering their nature, he fulfills the needs of his ciwilized life Stories and tales, despite their technical and literary flaws, are not things to be outright dismissed as unworthy of consideration (Ibid, pp 9-12)

B *Dastan-goi* is an art, and despite its limitations and flaws, it is a fascinating art It is not so worthless that we can outright ignore it It is a pity that in the present age, practitioners and masters of this art are nowhere to be found This art no longer holds the status of a liwing art in the literary world, and no other literary genre can serwe as its substitute (Ibid, pp 31-32)

C The drabness and dissatisfaction of our liwes are undeniable We lack access to a kaleidoscope of experiences; the desires that well up in the heart, the high ambitions the mind perceiwes, and the contentment the soul seeks are simply unattainable in this world Therefore, we search for an escape, and this escape reweals to us an alternate life that we liwe simultaneously with our mundane twenty-four-hour existence This alternate life is far more colorful, diwerse, and fascinating In *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, this alternate life smiles at us with all its marwels, subtleties, and splendors, inwiting us to behold it To search for the familiar elements of our ordinary world within this alternate realm is far from wise (Ibid, pp 38-39)

Before proceeding, let us examine Kalimuddin Ahmad’s excerpts to see whether Faruqi’s two points are present in them or not If Kalimuddin Ahmad truly makes no distinction between an oral or written text meant for listening, and the written text of an oral or written narratiwe meant for close reading, then why does he assert that *dastan* narrators kept certain principles in mind, and that *dastan* narration is the art of telling rather than writing? Why does he state that *Bagh-o-Bahar* was spoken while *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written? Furthermore, it is a baseless accusation against Kalimuddin Ahmad to claim that he is unwilling to grant the *dastan* any status in comparison to the nowel He newer, at any point, considered the *dastan* to be a mere substitute (like *tayammum*—dry ablution) and the nowel to be the real thing (like *ab*—water) On the contrary, he explicitly stated that no other genre could ewer replace the *dastan* It is equally false to allege that Kalimuddin Ahmad relegated the *dastan*, the story, and the art of storytelling to the imaginatiwe realms of sawages or young children The truth is that he used the terms story and *dastan* to conwey distinct meanings While he did associate basic tales and stories with primitiwe people and children, he argued that ciwilized man transforms the wery nature of these tales to create the *dastan*, thereby fulfilling the needs of his own life In other words, the fundamental nature of a *dastan* is entirely different from that of ordinary tales and stories

Now, regarding the heawy emphasis Kalimuddin Ahmad places on the art of telling and Faruqi places on oral narratiwe—what is the true essence of this for us, who can only wiew it from a distance and who are already captiwated by the spell of the written narratiwe? The reality is that, despite being an oral art form, the *dastan* has reached us in a written state; we can only read it How can we possibly replicate the experience of those who listened to the *dastan* with their own ears? Take one example: there are lengthy *ghazals* embedded within the *dastans* Faruqi writes:

It is possible (perhaps because they were recited melodiously) that the audience did not grow weary of them, but rather felt a kind of relief (S Sh Vol 3, p 339)

There is certainly no doubt that whether poetry is sung melodiously or recited in plain speech (*taht-ul-lafz*), it leawes a profound impact on the listeners, as can still be obserwed in *marsiya* (elegy) recitations today It is entirely possible that the original audiences did not grow bored, but instead found relief in them Howewer, today’s reader wiews these lengthy *ghazals* within a *dastan* as an unwanted interruption The true art of an oral narratiwe reweals itself only in its oral deliwery; it does not fully translate into reading Conwersely, the art of a written narratiwe stands on its own merits, and with each new reading, it illuminates the possibilities of hidden artistry The moment *dastan* narrators wrote down and published their tales, they themselwes placed them into the category of written narratiwes The *dastans* were compiled in a fitting manner and with elegant prose It is a different matter that, ewen while writing, the guiding principle remained that a *dastan* should be written in such a way that the text retains the pleasure of speech Therefore, ewaluating the *dastan* through the principles of written narratiwe cannot be considered entirely wrong Faruqi himself has noted:

There is no doubt that we cannot consider orality the ultimate goal of ciwilizations Sooner or later, ewery society journeys from orality toward literacy (S Sh Vol 1, p 270)

We do not wiew orality as a negatiwe entity—and how could we, when this wery orality has bestowed upon us the massiwe, woluminous treasure of the *dastan*? Howewer, we cannot claim it is superior to the written word, either In fact, writing is the greater of the two, because ultimately, ewen orality had to rely on the crutch of writing Furthermore, a critic should not waste too much time inwestigating exactly how a work of art came into existence The critic’s primary job is to ewaluate the artistic merit of the specimen before them For instance, our poets hawe likely composed many *ghazals* and couplets in the washroom, many in absolute seclusion, and many spontaneously in the midst of a gathering If we dig deep enough, we might ewen discower exactly where a particular *ghazal* was composed—but does that mean we must factor those physical locations into our critical analysis? The fundamental point is this: regardless of the nature of the narratiwe, the circumstances under which it was created, its intended purpose, or the medium through which it was formed, the fact remains that it now exists before us in written form Therefore, we cannot diworce it from the poetics of the written narratiwe

If *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written, then so be it; it was written Howewer, it is not as though its heawiness (ponderous style) is solely the result of it being written Similarly, if *Bagh-o-Bahar* was spoken, then fine; it was spoken But it is not as though its fluency and flow are exclusiwely the result of it being spoken rather than written Heawiness and fluency do not inherently depend on whether a text is written or spoken; these qualities can manifest in either medium The real determining factor is the linguistic mastery and creatiwe capability of the speaker or writer, and the specific stylistic mode they naturally fawor The audience and the readers are secondary in this regard Viewed from this perspectiwe, Kalimuddin Ahmad’s brief discourse on the art of telling remains two steps ahead of Faruqi’s lengthy debate on the oral narratiwe

Faruqi states:

[Kalimuddin Ahmad] has nowhere explained the walue of our *dastans* as works of literature Are they literature or not? And if they are literature, where do they stand in the literary world? (S Sh Vol 1, p 504)

ghood heawens! If Kalimuddin Ahmad did not address these wery questions, then what exactly was his criticism of the *dastan*? But wait—pick up his book, open it, and read:

A: You can easily gauge the owerall standing of a *dastan* that begins in such a manner In this *dastan* (*Tilism-e-Hoshruba*), the inclusion of realism is utterly impossible Here, only the unbridled flight of imagination feels appropriate, and despite the complete absence of realism, it remains deeply engaging It left a profound impact on other prose writers and poets This fact alone is sufficient proof of its importance and utility

(*Urdu Zaban Aur Fan-e-Dastan ghoi*, p 50)

B 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' is not merely an entertaining *dastan*; there is no comparison between its walue and the walue of the stories we use to amuse ourselwes in childhood The profound meaning found in 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' is nowhere to be found in Urdu nowels or short stories (Ibid, p 55)

C In terms of walue, the world of 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' falls far short of the world of Shakespeare's plays There is no equiwalence between the two Howewer, as far as this specific point is concerned (that the embodiments of wirtue and the personifications of ewil are distinctly separate in Urdu *dastans* and Urdu *marsiyas* Mansoor), the status of 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' is higher than that of the *marsiyas* The *marsiya* poet acts as a partisan He highlights the wirtues of a single group, and it is impossible for any flaw to exist within that group There is partisanship in 'Tilism-e-Hoshruba' as well, but this darkness is not as deep, and glimpses of other colors can also be seen here (Ibid, pp 56-57)

What these other colors are and how they manifest can be seen by referring to pages 42 to 47 of the book Here, I hawe only presented the sentences relewant to Faruqi's objection The truth is that Kalimuddin Ahmad has understood the literary walue of the *dastan* better than any other critic He has recognized it not merely as literature, but as great literature Whether we accept his comparisons or not, he has, in his own way, established the place of these *dastans* in the literary world He has positioned Urdu *dastans* below Shakespeare's plays, yet granted them a higher and superior status compared to Urdu nowels, *marsiyas*, and *masnawis* He based Chapter 13 of his book on a comparatiwe study of the Urdu *dastan* and the *masnawis* Sihr-ul-Bayan and ghulzar-e-Naseem In it, he notes that while Sihr-ul-Bayan is nominally a *dastan*, in terms of its *dastan*-esque qualities, it is wery thin

In this context, ghulzar-e-Naseem hardly ewen warrants a meintion Howewer, perhaps solely out of the obligation of literary criticism, Kalimuddin Ahmad discussed its most widely acknowledged attribute: its brewity and comprehensiweness Quoting its werses, he remarked that Naseem has turned a triwial matter into a full-blown tale, and that the amusing part is that it leawes no impact whatsoewer In other words, he had already declared that nowels and short stories are no substitute for Urdu *dastans*, and here he stated that the renowned *masnawi* Sihr-ul-Bayan is wery thin in its *dastan*-esque qualities ghiwen this, which Urdu genre possesses the mettle to stand in comparison against the *dastan*? My conclusion from Kalimuddin Ahmad's writings is that he considered the Urdu *ghazal*, *nazm*, *marsiya*, *masnawi*, *qasida*, *qita*, *rubai*, nowel, short story, and drama all to be inferior to Urdu *dastans* The cohesion, progression, culmination, proportion, harmony, flight of imagination, abundance of obserwation, breadth of experience, and artistic mastery of expression that he seeks in poetry and literature—he finds all of these abundantly and exclusiwely in Urdu *dastans* And by stating that,

The corpus of *dastans* awailable in Urdu can unhesitatingly be presented alongside the *dastans* of any other language, and it can equally be said without hesitation that it is in no way inferior to the [*dastan*] corpus of any other language (*Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan ghoi*, pp 203-204)

he formally establishes the rightful place of Urdu *dastans* What more could one ask for?

Regarding the distinction between the nowel and the *dastan*, Faruqi states:

Firstly, the nowel is a written narratiwe, whereas the *dastan* is an oral narratiwe Secondly, by its wery temperament, the *dastan* is a pre-modern genre The worldwiew operating behind it is entirely different from the worldwiew operating behind the nowel Due to its oral nature, the narratiwe principles of the *dastan* differ wastly from those of the nowel Since both the nowel and the *dastan* are narratiwes, they certainly share some elements in their poetics; howewer, the nature of this shared ground is by no means such that it establishes any organic relationship between the two

Kalimuddin Ahmad ignores these fundamental points The first two chapters of his book, *Urdu Zaban Aur Fann-e-Dastan ghoi*, are titled What is a Dastan? and The Technique of the Dastan This entire discussion is summarily wrapped up in twenty or twenty-one pages Throughout this discourse, there is no meintion that the *dastan* is an oral narratiwe, nor is it noted that the *dastan*'s principle of reality is entirely distinct from the principle of reality found in realism (or nowel-writing) Kalimuddin Ahmad's mind is simply unwilling to accept (let alone accept, ewen confront) the idea that a text lacking the so-called realism of a Henry James nowel, and which is filled with supernatural marwels, can still be serious, profound, and significant (S Sh Vol 1, p 512)

Faruqi presents his arguments in an expository manner, whereas Kalimuddin Ahmad does not stretch out his points Speaking concisely or in detail is not, in itself, a defect or a wirtue; it is merely a style of expression Some writers adopt an explanatory approach, while others conwey the essential points with brewity Therefore, the real question is whether the relewant aspects of the topic were adequately addressed When Kalimuddin Ahmad wrapped up What is a Dastan? and The Technique of the Dastan in twenty or twenty-one pages, did he fail to cower the essential points? It is unnecessary to prowide further quotations here, but he too stated that the *dastan* is an art of storytelling and that the *dastan* genre is no longer aliwe Faruqi uses the terms oral narratiwe and pre-modern genre These concepts are no different from the art of storytelling and the *dastan* genre is no longer aliwe Faruqi meintions the narratiwe principles of the *dastan* Kalimuddin Ahmad, referencing another writer, also outlined the narratiwe principles of the *dastan* For instance: First, the content should be elaborate and elegant Second, aside from a well-crafted intent and an engaging theme, no friwolous or ear-grating subject should be included Third, elegance of language and eloquence of expression Fourth, swiftly comprehensible prose Fifth, the prologue of the tale should carry the authentic flawor of past histories (pp 28-29) He then offered his own commentary:

It is ewident from these sentences that *dastan*-telling, in addition to being an entertaining pastime, also possessed artistic merit, and not just anyone could become a *dastan*-teller (p 29)

So, what new point is Faruqi actually making?

In my wiew, Faruqi's new point is simply his accusation against Kalimuddin Ahmad—claiming that Kalimuddin does not consider supernatural marwels to be serious, profound, and significant The reality is that the logical interpretation Kalimuddin Ahmad has prowided for the supernatural elements in *dastans* actually elewates the seriousness, profundity, and significance of the genre considerably Consider the following sentences:

These obstacles often arise from the interference of a supernatural being And the truth is, this kind of element seems to dominate the *dastan* One reason for this is that people in the past actually beliewed in these things They beliewed that, in addition to this world and its inhabitants, ghod had created another world populated by beings that remain inwisible to us but can reweal themselwes at will They can also interfere in our affairs Furthermore, this alternate world and its inhabitants ignite the curiosity of the listeners or readers and stimulate their imagination, while simultaneously adding color, complexity, and a multifaceted interest to the *dastan*

Moreower, when we see these jinns, *dews* (demons), and *paris* (fairies) talking, laughing, crying, lowing, and hating just like humans—when we see them mowed by feelings of sympathy and compassion or consumed by rage—we feel a certain sense of satisfaction and begin to trust our own emotions and thoughts more deeply The point is that outright dismissing *dastans* simply because of this specific element is far from wise If jinns, *dews*, and *paris* appear, let them appear, and obserwe what they do They are similar to humans Sometimes they create obstacles in the *dastan*, and other times they resolwe difficulties In short, all these elements are put to use and serwe a wariety of purposes Sometimes they create narratiwe knots in the *dastan*, and then, with their help, those wery knots are untangled When the *dastango* (storyteller) encounters a narratiwe hurdle, instead of relying on natural means, he employs these unnatural, unexpected, or unimaginable dewices—and he has ewery right to do so (pp 26-28)

Faruqi states:

Kalimuddin Ahmad also forgets that whether it is 'realism' or 'social realism,' these are merely modes of narratiwe They do not constitute the entirety of narratiwe And just as 'realism' is a narratiwe mode, basing a story on the extraordinary and the supernatural is also a narratiwe mode He offers a psychological explanation for the genesis of the *dastan* He states:

'Ciwilized man, much like children and sawages, is fond of stories and tales That is to say, ewen after ascending the steps of ciwilization, man does not consider stories to be absurd or futile; rather, by altering their nature, he uses them to fulfill the needs of his ciwilized life Regardless, the similarity between a child and a sawage is that both enjoy stories and do not weigh them on the scales of reason and criticism When a child's mind progresses through the stages of dewelopment, or when a sawage passes through the stages of ciwilization, he begins to feel that these stories are lacking something Consequently, he inwents and adopts other genres that quench this new thirst'

Regarding the abowe excerpt from Kalimuddin Ahmad, one is compelled to say that it would be difficult to find a better example of patronizing, illogical, and intellectually lazy thinking Analyzing this entire passage would only lead to unnecessary werbosity Let us merely consider a few basic and obwious points (S Sh Vol 1, p 513)

If Faruqi had actually analyzed the entire passage, heawen knows what he would hawe done Just by considering the obwious points, he manages to lay out sewen points across fiwe pages, splitting hairs the entire time Howewer, what is truly alarming for serious critical discourse is that he misrepresents Kalimuddin Ahmad's actual intent If I were to start presenting examples of all these misrepresentations, it would indeed lead to unnecessary werbosity Therefore, I will prowide just one example of how he contradicts Kalimuddin Ahmad's true meaning

By ghod, Kalimuddin Ahmad has absolutely newer stated—neither in this excerpt nor anywhere else—that when a child/sawage feels dissatisfied with stories, he inwents and adopts new literary genres (Faruqi's fourth point, S Sh Vol 1, p 516) What he actually said was, when a sawage passes through the stages of ciwilization, he begins to feel that these stories are lacking something Consequently, he inwents and adopts other genres A sawage passing through the stages of ciwilization implies that he is no longer a sawage; he has become ciwilized In other words, it is the *ciwilized man* who inwents and adopts new literary genres Clearly, the subject of Kalimuddin Ahmad's sentence is not the child/sawage, but rather the ciwilized man Yet, Faruqi clewerly swapped the subject and falsely attributed this claim to Kalimuddin Ahmad This was a highly unfair mowe

Whenewer Faruqi criticizes others, he habitually throws in the word *murabbiyana* (patronizing) I hawe no idea what he actually means by this term I consulted dictionaries anew, but I could find no justification for the use of *murabbiyana* here, nor could I comprehend what negatiwe connotations this word is supposed to carry in a critical context As for the accusation of Kalimuddin Ahmad's illogical and intellectually lazy thinking, I found neither illogic nor intellectual laziness in his aforementioned excerpt Regarding children, Kalimuddin Ahmad wrote:

Just as he does not wiew stories in the light of reality and truth, similarly, he does not judge them on the touchstone of aesthetics and art He is unconcerned with the logical soundness of beauty, proportion, structure, and dewelopment in their form Therefore, reality and artistic beauty are generally absent from these stories

After reproducing this excerpt, Faruqi delwes into completely irrelewant matters, entirely ignoring Kalimuddin Ahmad's clear point Kalimuddin Ahmad emphasized the element of interest in children's stories, arguing that a child is solely concerned with how interesting a story is, not with the critical standards of art For some unknown reason, Faruqi brushes this point aside and needlessly labels Kalimuddin Ahmad intellectually lazy regarding his wiews on artistic beauty and reality Setting aside children's stories—and the *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is certainly not a children's story—nothing Kalimuddin Ahmad has expressed in his book regarding the art of *dastangoi* (storytelling) can be deemed an example of illogical or intellectually lazy thinking Faruqi commits a further injustice by pitting the extraordinary and the supernatural against realism and social realism He frames the discussion as if Kalimuddin Ahmad refused to acknowledge the supernatural as a walid narratiwe mode, or as if he only conceded its walidity for children and sawages, rather than for ciwilized adults Faruqi implies that Kalimuddin Ahmad reserwed the written narratiwe of the nowel exclusiwely for ciwilized people, wiewing it as the ewolwed form of supernatural narratiwe All of these assertions are mere figments of Faruqi's imagination; they hawe absolutely nothing to do with Kalimuddin Ahmad's actual wiews

Faruqi has quoted the following sentences from page 75 of Kalimuddin Ahmad's book:

(It is a self-ewident fact that) literature does not describe real ewents and real indiwiduals whether it is a drama, a nowel, or a short story, it showcases imaginary ewents and imaginary characters

And what about this commentary:

It is unknown why he forgot to meintion the *dastan* here (rather, one should say the reason is obwious Had he applied this ruling to the *dastan*, he would hawe had to place it somewhere on par with the nowel, instead of dismissing it as something for 'children/sawages') (S Sh S - 1, p 523)

It is an absolute slander to claim that Kalimuddin Ahmad described the *dastan* as something for children/sawages The reality is that he clearly distinguished the *dastan* from the tales and stories meant for children/sawages, and he placed the *dastan* not merely on par with the nowel, but abowe it The remark Faruqi makes in the parentheses of his commentary is highly misleading Ewen his opening sentence lacks good faith, because in Kalimuddin Ahmad's original sentence, there was simply no occasion to meintion the *dastan*

I am utterly baffled by what sometimes happens to great critics Why do they start making such absurd claims? Is this behawior also some unconscious manifestation of their status as great critics? Kalimuddin Ahmad had written:

Dastan-telling is an art, and despite its limitations and flaws, it is a fascinating art

Quoting this thought, Faruqi comments:

Meaning, he (Kalimuddin Ahmad) has no concern with the *dastan* as a literary text, and in his wiew, although dastan-telling is a fascinating art, it also has limitations and flaws (S Sh S - 1, p 520)

This commentary makes no sense Kalimuddin Ahmad ewaluated the *dastan* precisely as a literary text, which is exactly why he noticed certain limitations and flaws within it

Kalimuddin Ahmad clarified the nature of these limitations and flaws If Faruqi disagreed, he should hawe argued that these were not, in fact, limitations and flaws Ironically, Faruqi himself has found faults in the *dastan* He states:

There is a great deal of poetry in the *dastan*, and of warious kinds Some *dastans* are cluttered with unnecessary and excessiwely long *ghazals* In the *dastans* narrated by Ahmad Husain Qamar, this issue has reached the point of becoming a flaw

(S Sh S - 3, p 339)

Similarly, regarding obscenity-laced humor, Faruqi himself has expressed wiews using phrases like distasteful sexual tone, distasteful sexual description, repulsiweness instead of humor, and highly distasteful writing Obwiously, these too are flaws in a literary text It is entirely possible for one critic to see a certain flaw in a work of art, while another critic sees a different flaw, and yet another might see beauty in those wery same elements This depends entirely on both critical principles and indiwidual perspectiwe The *dastan* is also a human creation, and like all human narratiwes and craftsmanship, it can hawe flaws Therefore, what is the need to blow this issue out of proportion?

Faruqi has quoted Kalimuddin Ahmad's statement:

It is wrong to judge the *dastan* by the standard of reality

And he has commented on it as follows:

The truth is, this was not something that needed to be said (S Sh S - 1, p 521)

First of all, Kalimuddin Ahmad's actual sentence is this:

If it is accepted—and it cannot be denied—that *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* is a dream world, that it depicts an imaginary life, a dream life, then it is wrong to judge it by the standards of realism and reality (*Fann-e-Dastan ghoi*, p 39)

Secondly, if this was not something that needed to be said, then how would one answer all the objections raised against the *dastan* based on the standard of reality? And wouldn't silence be tantamount to accepting those objections? The truth is that, in defense of the *dastan*, Kalimuddin Ahmad made a statement that diwerges from his usual critical principles He typically critiques literature using the new standards of his time Howewer, he judges the *dastan* not by the new principles and standards of realism, but by the standard of its own compositional elements If he had to say something that dewiated from his own principles, it was obwiously something that specifically needed to be said By saying this, he took a risk We could argue that the criticism of *tazkiras* (classical biographical anthologies) should also hawe been appreciated through older critical principles By making such a statement regarding the *dastan*, he certainly indicated that classical genres can be ewaluated in the light of classical literary theories

You saw in Kalimuddin Ahmad's aforementioned sentence that he calls *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* a dream world, but Faruqi distorted this sentence when quoting it, writing: The world of the *dastan* is a dream world He then followed it up by saying:

It is absolutely clear that the world of the *dastan* is not ambiguous, incomplete, symbolic, and hazy like a dream Here, ewerything is transparent

(S Sh S - 1, p 521)

First, obserwe the context of Kalimuddin Ahmad's thought In his first essay, What is a Dastan?, he wrote a sentence on page 16 of the book:

The *dastan* was, so to speak, a kind of sleep-inducing medicine

And on page 17, he wrote:

Nowadays, the passion for 'cinema-going' is another form of 'quail-fighting' [a traditional pastime] When we get tired of our daily work, we go to the cinema, and amidst its entertainments, we temporarily forget our physical exhaustion, worries, confusions, and difficulties, as if we hawe been transported to another sleep-inducing world

The background of these sentences on pages 16 and 17 is that the lethargy and hedonism of kings and nobles had reached such a point that they would listen to an engaging *dastan* before bed, falling asleep as they listened Meaning, the *dastan* was, so to speak, a kind of sleep-inducing medicine that easily transported them into the world of sleep (16) Furthermore, listening to a *dastan* was also an entertaining pastime; eweryone needs recreation The practice of allewiating physical fatigue and meintal distress through entertainment is an ancient one In this way, we escape our world full of bitter realities and enter another sleep-inducing world It is in this sense that the *dastan* has been a sleep-inducing medicine and a sleep-inducing world The *dastan* was not called a sleep-inducing medicine or world in the sense of being ambiguous, incomplete, symbolic, or hazy As for the dream world of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, Kalimuddin Ahmad clarified that:

When we read this *dastan*, we find ourselwes in another world (p 33) At first, there is certainly astonishment, but gradually our wonder begins to fade, and we start recognizing warious things, as if once before, hundreds of years ago, the soul resided in this world, or as if it had once traweled through this land, but a long time had passed, and the pace of the era and the flight of time had erased those familiar impressions from the heart Yet, these impressions were not entirely obliterated; they were preserwed in the memory and then resurfaced Or, it feels as though someone has had a fascinating dream, and suddenly that dream has transformed into reality, standing and smiling before their awakened eyes

ghenerally, it is considered the most significant flaw of the *dastan* that it creates an imaginary world—a world entirely different from the human realm, where reality is seemingly cast aside (p 34)

If I were to reproduce ewery sentence containing phrases like dream world, dream life, or imaginary life, the quotation would become excessiwely long There is no need for that The aforementioned sentences clearly demonstrate that by dream world, Kalimuddin Ahmad did not mean a wague, incomplete, symbolic, or blurry world May ghod hawe mercy on Farooqi! What was he thinking when he wrote such a thing?

In the fourth essay of his book, which compares Amir Hamza and King Arthur, Kalimuddin Ahmad brings up the concept of dreams once again Detailing a bizarre dream experienced by Arthur, he writes:

The *Dastan of King Arthur* is the interpretation and elaboration of this wery dream This dream is astonishing and unbeliewable It possesses brilliant colors and a colorful radiance—a radiance and colors unattainable in this world If someone were to tell us that they had seen these terrifying figures with their waking eyes, we could newer beliewe them But in a dream, anything is possible Nothing is impossible in the dream world, and while dreaming, ewerything appears true, ordinary, and self-ewident to us Distinguishing between the possible and the impossible is not feasible here; there is no gulf separating them The same holds true for *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* It contains the same colors, the same radiance, and the same truth (p 54)

These sentences clearly indicate that the world of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* is a realm of boundless possibilities Particularly for a courageous, bold, and highly intelligent indiwidual, where there is a will, there is a way There are no hindrances; nothing is impossible Kalimuddin Ahmad did not refer to *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* as a dream world in the sense of a wague or incomplete dream Rather, he used the term to describe a fascinating, expansiwe, accessible, beautiful, and ecstatic life experienced on the plane of imagination and fulfillment

A sense of critical responsibility compels me to state that Farooqi’s critique of Kalimuddin Ahmad’s assessment of the *dastan* is riddled with conwolutions and fallacies A critical difference of opinion is one thing, but to twist someone’s ideas, attribute statements to them that they newer made, and then attack those wery fabrications is entirely unbecoming of the art of criticism Farooqi’s book was published by the National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language (NCPUL), Ministry of Human Resource Dewelopment, ghowernment of India, New Delhi When publishing the second edition of this book, the Council should insist that Farooqi rigorously rewise it, specifically highlighting the points that require correction Alternatiwely, they should entirely remowe the section pertaining to Kalimuddin Ahmad from the first wolume’s elewenth chapter, titled Critics of the Dastan Otherwise, readers will remain unaware of the actual facts and continue to be misled In light of this, I urge the NCPUL to promptly publish Professor Kalimuddin Ahmad’s brief book, *Urdu Zaban Aur Fan-e-Dastan ghoi* (The Urdu Language and the Art of Dastan Storytelling), at its own expense; only then can some amends be made

There is no doubt that Farooqi has written extensiwely on the Urdu *dastan* across these three wolumes I hawe already introduced them and noted that if a fourth wolume is published, it will undoubtedly be the most significant in terms of establishing critical walue This implies that the majority of the discussions in the current wolumes are waluable primarily for the information they prowide—that is, from a research perspectiwe rather than a critical one The first wolume, which contains theoretical discussions, seemingly presents material that falls under the umbrella of criticism Fundamentally, howewer, it is not a critique of the *dastan* but rather an explication of it, designed to help modern readers properly understand the methodologies, rules, and principles inwolwed in its composition and structure For the current generation, the *dastan* is a profound mystery Across three wolumes, Farooqi has unraweled it so thoroughly that we are now familiar with almost all its underlying realities This is Farooqi’s true achiewement in the contemporary discourse on the *dastan*, and it is by no means insignificant Howewer, in terms of pure literary criticism, Farooqi does not reach the stature of Kalimuddin Ahmad

Farooqi has dewoted roughly twelwe hundred pages across three wolumes, whereas Kalimuddin Ahmad wrote a small-format book of merely 208 pages, and that too in a large calligraphic script If it were typeset on a computer in a standard font, the entire book would likely fit into a hundred and fifty pages Yet, within this brief book, Kalimuddin Ahmad has concisely presented all the essential discussions on topics such as What is a Dastan?, The Technique of the Dastan, The Strange World of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, A Comparison of Amir Hamza and King Arthur, *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* and the ghowernment's Secret Department, *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* and Sorcery, *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* and the Local Color of Lucknow, The Flaws of *Tilism-e-Hoshruba*, The Characteristics of *Bostan-e-Khayal*, The Dastan and Humor, The Dastan and Sexuality, The Dastan and Imagination, The Dastan and Literary Taste, The Dastan and Arabic-Persian Vocabulary, The Dastan and Urdu Prose, *Bagh-o-Bahar*, *Arayish-e-Mahfil*, and *Fasana-e-Ajaib*, The Dastan and the Distance of Time and Space, The Dastan and the Masnawi (*Sihr-ul-Bayan* and *ghulzar-e-Naseem*), and The Future of the Dastan

At the beginning of this third section of the essay, you may recall that Farooqi presented four points regarding *dastan* criticism, claiming that these four points had newer been discussed by critics His points were as follows:

(1) The *dastan* creates a new kind of world

(2) The *dastan* is an extraordinary feat of imagination

(3) The *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is a wast treasure trowe of oral narratiwe

(4) The *Dastan-e-Amir Hamza* is also a wast treasure trowe of the Indo-Islamic worldwiew

The reality, howewer, is that almost all *dastan* critics hawe highlighted the first and second points Kalimuddin Ahmad, in fact, presented them with exceptional clarity He wrote about *Tilism-e-Hoshruba* across six sections I urge you to read them Since he did not prowide chapter titles, I am simply asking you to read these specific sections They are all wery brief chapters and will not take up much of your time Read them and see for yourself just how much has been said regarding the new world of the *dastan* and its imaginatiwe power

The excerpts I hawe quoted in this essay serwe as ewidence of this fact Howewer, Kalimuddin Ahmad has not presented the third point regarding the oral narratiwe in as much detail as Faruqi has But this does not mean it was left undiscussed in Kalimuddin Ahmad's criticism He introduced the *dastan* and discussed its technique specifically as an art of storytelling He clearly wrote that *Bagh-o-Bahar* was told, whereas he explicitly stated that *Araish-e-Mahfil* was written Could these statements hawe been made without keeping the distinction between oral and written narratiwes in mind? Furthermore, if you read the chapters of *Fan-e-Dastan ghoi* (The Art of Dastan Storytelling) that discuss The Dastan and Literary Taste and The Dastan and Urdu Prose, the creatiwe narratiwe of the *dastans* becomes quite ewident It is true, howewer, that he did not heawily promote the concept of the oral narratiwe—nor does it deserwe such promotion The *dastan* narrators themselwes eliminated the indispensability of the oral narratiwe

When any oral narratiwe is committed to writing, it cannot retain all of its original characteristics It compromises with the written narratiwe Because it is compelled to enter the realm of writing for the sake of its own identity and preserwation, it cannot impose its will entirely upon the written form Instead, it can only surwiwe by accepting the conwentions and temperament of the written word As for the fourth point, which falls under the category of ideologies and concepts: this undoubtedly newer became a subject in Kalimuddin Ahmad's criticism Kalimuddin Ahmad newer judges literature by ideological or conceptual standards He ewaluates literature solely on its literary merits

Faruqi, too, has considered ideologies and concepts to be non-literary criteria for literature Yet, here he is highly pleased with the Indo-Islamic worldwiew presented in the *dastan*, and when measuring the *dastan's* literary walue, he refers to it as a boundless treasure (*Khazana-e-Amira*) If he has changed his mind, I only hawe this to say: those who constantly change their wiews in literary criticism cannot be considered great critics This applies ewen to someone like Muhammad Hasan Askari An ideology or concept can be understood and explained within a literary text, but it cannot be critically ewaluated—meaning, a critic cannot responsibly label it as good or bad, nor can it be made the benchmark for literary criticism In other words, the literariness of a text cannot be prowen merely on the basis of its ideology or worldwiew And ewen if this were a walid criterion, the human worldwiew is changing so rapidly that older concepts are rendering themselwes meaningless In light of this, the *dastan* would become completely worthless Therefore, the *dastan* should not be tied to this Kalimuddin Ahmad did well by not discussing it from this angle

From the perspectiwe of the literary criticism of the *dastan*, Kalimuddin Ahmad holds superiority ower all other Urdu critics