रिवायत क्या है?

From the outside, the architecture of the house is Euclidean; the entrance hall is Rococo. The drawing room features Queen Anne furniture, while the sitting room is furnished with modern Italian chairs. The dining room boasts an electric dishwasher alongside a Japanese-style dining spread. The bedroom is laid with handwoven Native American rugs, and replica African masks are hung for decoration.

You can easily find such a house in America today. Its occupant might dismiss Ezra Pound’s poetry as absurd, yet he has hoarded all this clutter simply because UNESCO dictates that, even in an era of rapid change, we must preserve the tradition of human culture—not just the tradition of our own city or country, but of all human history. The poor homeowner has no idea what human history actually is. He does not know whether the random objects he has collected hold any traditional value, or, even if they do, what purpose preserving such a tradition serves. He is merely following UNESCO’s mandate. He believes it is his duty to constantly adapt to the space age while simultaneously preserving human culture. From the perspective of Urdu literary critics, this endeavor reflects great balance and stability, as it represents a synthesis of the old and the new, of innovation and tradition. Ultimately, however, the homeowner has no idea what he is actually doing.

Writers, on the other hand, claim to know exactly what they are doing. It is widely asserted anyway that human self-awareness has advanced significantly in modern times; even T.S. Eliot has said as much. Consequently, in today’s literary marketplace, both experimentation and tradition command a high premium. There are dozens of poets in America who, upon request, can compose a poem in any traditional style within five minutes—and do so so flawlessly that one cannot distinguish the imitation from the original. This implies that modern writers have achieved a profound sense of seriousness, balance, and stability, allowing both experimentation and tradition to flourish side by side. However, before we celebrate this cultural progress, we must first understand what experimentation and tradition actually mean. Innovation and experimentation simply mean creating something that has rarely or never been done before. But what is tradition?

To discover how an average writer conceptualizes tradition, I picked up an English book featuring essays by various authors on the subject of experimentation and tradition. One writer argues that the tradition of the English novel is experimentation. Another claims that tradition is merely the culmination of successful experiments, and nothing more. A third asserts that tradition is constantly changing and evolving, and that we are perpetually creating it. A fourth states that every art form has its own distinct tradition. A fifth insists that tradition can never be complete. A sixth bases his entire argument on Wordsworth’s assertion that a great writer is one who expands the boundaries of human sensibility in unprecedented ways. The ultimate conclusion drawn from all these statements is that tradition, in and of itself, is nothing. It possesses no permanent status. Any piece of literature that simply grows a little old is labeled a tradition.

If this is truly what tradition means, one wonders why UNESCO and so many civilized people are so anxious about preserving it. Such traditions can be made and unmade every single day.

However, it is possible that the term tradition does hold a definitive meaning. T.S. Eliot claims to possess a clear conception of tradition, and it is largely due to his influence that the discourse around tradition has gained prominence in contemporary English criticism—and, by extension, in Urdu criticism. Therefore, let us turn to him.

Two things must be kept in mind regarding Eliot: first, he is a Roman Catholic, or at least favors the faith; second, he places immense emphasis on the historical sense, which he defines as an awareness of both the temporal and the timeless, experienced both individually and simultaneously. According to him, it is through this very consciousness that a writer becomes traditional.

In his discussion on tradition, Eliot states that the primary and fundamental purpose of literature is to provide a specific kind of refined, intellectual pleasure. He asserts that this has always been the case and will always remain so. This notion might hold true for Europe, but in the traditional societies of the East, literature and art have always been viewed merely as instruments; their true and fundamental purpose is to serve as a means of spiritual realization. Europeans—and nowadays, many Hindus as well—claim that the Hindu religion and art are one and the same. However, the Natya Shastra explicitly states that when humanity fell into decline and its capacity for spiritual realization diminished, Brahma created dance and music for the facilitation of mankind.

Furthermore, Eliot argues on the one hand that we can only approach literature through our own temperament, and that every generation possesses a new perspective. On the other hand, he asserts that the existence of clear moral standards is essential for establishing clear literary standards. Are temperament and moral standards the same thing? Are these moral standards absolute, or do they fluctuate? And where do they originate? Eliot conveniently dodges all these fundamental questions. He believes that each generation reads literature in its own way, and through its unique perspective, continuously alters the past and its tradition. In his view, tradition is not something immutable or static. Yet, at the same time, he claims that while the mind of Europe has continuously changed, it has never discarded anything in the process. What exactly are these things that the European mind has managed to preserve thus far?

Eliot is a great admirer of Dante, but does he know the principles according to which Dante selected his meter, or even the components of each individual line? Is the modern European mind aware of the concepts of Ibn Arabi upon which Dante’s poem is based? If it is not, then has the European mind not lost a great deal? Moreover, according to Eliot, tradition is subject to change, whereas the very first premise of Ibn Arabi’s concepts is that they are entirely immutable. This leads to the conclusion that Europe—and indeed, Eliot himself—has failed to preserve even Dante. What, then, is this tradition that Eliot so emphatically insists upon?

To understand tradition, Eliot considers it essential to be familiar with various fields of knowledge, such as linguistics. Therefore, let us examine the limitations of modern Western disciplines when it comes to understanding tradition. The Hindi word Jati has become Zat in Urdu. According to Western linguistics, this is merely a phonetic shift where a 'Z' sound has replaced a 'J' sound. In reality, however, it is a precise translation. The word Zat is primarily applied to God, but its meaning shifts according to the hierarchy of existence. Among Hindus, an individual's reality is determined by their Jati. Thus, in the social sphere, Jati is the individual's Zat (essence or being), which is why Jati was translated as Zat. This single example is enough to gauge just how much Western disciplines can actually help us understand tradition.

Now consider an even more astonishing statement from the Roman Catholic Eliot. He claims that tradition does not depend on beliefs; rather, beliefs take on a living form during the formation of tradition. If beliefs are generated in this manner, religion becomes a mere spectacle. The truth is that despite his religiosity, Eliot recoils from the word belief just as much as Gibbon did. In reality, Europe does not even know what belief is. In the East, belief is a matter of direct spiritual perception, and there are established methods for bringing belief into direct experience. Since the fourteenth century, even the Church in Europe has forgotten the true nature of belief. Consequently, for the past three hundred years, Europeans have viewed belief as either an oppressive mandate or a frozen emotion. Europe knows nothing beyond this. On top of this, Eliot claims that the European mind has abandoned nothing. He attributes the changes that have occurred in Europe to economic and industrial factors. If a belief can change or evolve alongside the invention of the washing machine, then what is the actual value of such a belief?

Ultimately, Eliot drags belief down to this very level. While defining tradition, he states that it is the sum of all actions—from the most solemn religious rituals to the customary way of greeting—that have become routine for people of the same race living in the same place. In short, Eliot is saying exactly what a score of other people say about tradition: that tradition simply means habit. But habit is a very fragile thing. Why place so much emphasis on keeping a habit alive? Eliot’s weakness is that he is fond of both religion and Darwin. Consequently, by raising a clamor about tradition, he has only convoluted the issue. In fact, his friend Wyndham Lewis remarked that he has rendered the issue completely meaningless.

Nevertheless, due to Eliot’s influence, the word tradition has become fashionable. Now everyone offers a definition of tradition, but the irony is that a book or author included in the tradition by one critic is promptly excluded by another. The best example is F.R. Leavis, who unceremoniously tossed Fielding out of the great tradition of the English novel. In short, the current situation in the West is that everyone has constructed their own distinct concept of tradition, leaving the word entirely devoid of meaning. Instead, they find themselves caught in an inescapable dilemma.

Literary criticism is, after all, a mock battle; we can afford to ignore it. However, the distress that creative artists are experiencing due to the lack of a proper understanding of tradition serves as a cautionary tale. I consider Ezra Pound to be the greatest living poet in the world today, but because the meaning of tradition remains unclear to him, he has fallen into a bizarre predicament. Everyone assumed that his magnum opus would conclude at a hundred cantos, but it kept going. Pound pointed out all the evils of the world. He enumerated all the noble values. But as the poem nears its end, the problem arises of providing a durable foundation for these values. Pound cannot find one. He borrowed his moral values from Confucius, but he always looked down upon the metaphysics behind them. Now, where is he supposed to find a justification for them? Should he use nature as a foundation? But what exactly is nature? He finds no answer. Consequently, in his bewilderment, Pound begins to praise the Magna Carta. But attempting to base human life on the Magna Carta is an utterly ridiculous endeavor.

So, it comes down to this: literature cannot survive without an understanding of what tradition means, and the West has completely failed to grasp this meaning. Thus, the original question remains unresolved: what is tradition?

In the West, only one man has answered this question, and the West refuses to listen to him. I am referring to René Guénon. He argues that traditional literature and traditional arts can only emerge within a traditional society, and a traditional society is one founded upon metaphysics. Metaphysics is not merely a collection of theories. Al-Tawhid Wahid (The Truth is One). There can be only one metaphysics; this is the original and fundamental tradition. It is not bound to any specific race or nation, though its modes of expression vary. The distinctions between Hindu, Chinese, or Islamic traditions arise precisely from these differing modes of expression. People here often assume that Islamic civilization is austere, while Hindu civilization is full of sensory vibrancy. However, the Upanishads state that at the center of human existence, there is neither the light of the sun, nor the moon, nor the stars; rather, everything is illuminated by the light of Purusha (the Cosmic Being). Therefore, the fundamental tradition is the same everywhere; only its outward forms differ.

What is this metaphysics? Since literature deals with the interconnected relationship between God, the universe, and humanity, I will present only that specific aspect of the fundamental tradition. Shah Wahaj-ud-Din has articulated this entire concept with great brevity in the preface to Al-Kahf wal-Raqim. He writes: When you conceive of the Absolute Being independent of any manifestations, it is the Divine Being. When you perceive it in relation to the proportion of its manifestations, it is the spiritual realm. When you observe it in relation to its functions, it is the material realm. Human existence signifies the Absolute Being. The human soul signifies the spirit, which is the synthesis of all internal and cosmic manifestations. The human body signifies the essence of all internal and cosmic materiality.

This is the concept that forms the very root of tradition. If literature is founded upon this concept, it is traditional; if not, it is not—even if it employs the exact same vocabulary and stylistic devices.

From this metaphysics, certain principles also emerge for understanding literature and evaluating its worth, which Shah Wahaj-ud-Din has also outlined. He has written only a few lines about literature, yet you will be hard-pressed to find literary criticism of this caliber in Urdu. He has established a standard that encompasses the literature of the entire world.

Now listen to his text. First, he explains that for the sake of knowledge, humanity has only two realms of manifestation before it: anfus (the inner self) and aafaq (the external universe). After this, he writes: Perfection lies in recognizing both simultaneously, with the recognition of the inner self dominating the recognition of the external universe. This is because the external universe is the body, and the inner self is its soul. In the external universe, nothing exists without the perception of the inner self. Thus, every single hair of the inner self is an entire universe for the external world. Therefore, for centuries, the poetry of every language has been considered complete only when it includes the external universe but gives dominance to the inner self. And in terms of affinity, every nation and community has declared the inner self as the beloved. The 'natural poetry' of this era, which is highly praised, is incomplete because it has only adopted the external universe and abandoned the inner self, which is the very soul of the external universe. Hence, this poetry is like a lifeless body. As for the objection raised against classical poetry that it is full of lies and exaggeration, this objection stems from ignorance, because nothing said about the soul can be an exaggeration.

Through these two excerpts, not only is a definitive meaning of tradition established, but we also gain a standard by which to determine the value of a literary work from a traditional perspective. Now, try looking at Urdu literature through this standard. I will only take two or three examples. Here, too, there is much talk about preserving and developing the tradition of Urdu literature, but at the same time, we have been trying to prove T.S. Eliot's assertion that every generation reads literature in a new way.

In the context of reading in a new way, a specific problem arises regarding the place of Nazeer Akbarabadi in the tradition of Urdu literature. We also know that despite his popular appeal, until a hundred years ago, he was not given a high status in literature. Therefore, some argued that the literary taste of people in the past was simply inferior. Others considered it the result of a lapse in taste in a few specific matters. Some claimed that during the feudal era, representatives of the common people were bound to be looked down upon. But if you look closely, every one of these arguments is flawed. Apply Shah Wahajuddin's standard, and you will understand what the real story is. In a traditional society, poets like Nazeer Akbarabadi also have a specific duty, and they were appreciated in that regard. However, in the majority of Nazeer's poetry, the element of the external universe (aafaq) is dominant, and the element of the inner self (anfus) is minimal. This is precisely why he was not placed in the ranks of the great poets, and the very first person to praise him was an Englishman, Fallon.

Take Maulana Hali as a second example. Outwardly, Hali appears to be a poet of tradition, but look even at his naat (poetry in praise of the Prophet). He uses traditional vocabulary, but he discards metaphysics and inserts morality instead. Hali has greatly benefited Urdu literature, but from the perspective of tradition, his primary achievement is that he expelled metaphysics from Urdu poetry.

Let us also take an example from prose. We include the name of Ratan Nath Sarshar among the founders of Urdu prose. But consider a passage from Fasana-e-Azad. Mian Azad sees a long-bearded man causing a commotion along with a group of children. Sometimes they overturn a cucumber seller's basket into the water. Sometimes they snatch a hunter's birds and set them free. In the end, it is revealed that he was doing these things to keep the children healthy and out of human sympathy. It is obvious that Sarshar took the basic framework from the story of Prophet Moses and Khidr, but instead of metaphysics, he used it to teach principles of hygiene and health. Now, see for yourself whether this is tradition or something else entirely.

Modern poets, of course, have consciously violated tradition, but among the modern poets, Faiz is famous for having preserved the tradition of Urdu poetry. Let us take a famous line of his as well:

Hum parwarish-e-lauh-o-qalam karte rahenge

[We will continue to nurture the tablet and the pen]

This is very good poetry, and the words are also traditional. There is no doubt about that. But is its meaning traditional as well?

Ponder over these questions yourself. My only purpose was to show that tradition can have only one meaning. Aside from this, all talk of preserving or reviving tradition is merely an emotional itch, nothing more.

From the outside, the architecture of the house is Euclidean; the entrance hall is Rococo. The drawing room features Queen Anne furniture, while the sitting room is furnished with modern Italian chairs. The dining room boasts an electric dishwasher alongside a Japanese-style dining spread. The bedroom is laid with handwoven Native American rugs, and replica African masks are hung for decoration.

You can easily find such a house in America today. Its occupant might dismiss Ezra Pound’s poetry as absurd, yet he has hoarded all this clutter simply because UNESCO dictates that, even in an era of rapid change, we must preserve the tradition of human culture—not just the tradition of our own city or country, but of all human history. The poor homeowner has no idea what human history actually is. He does not know whether the random objects he has collected hold any traditional value, or, even if they do, what purpose preserving such a tradition serves. He is merely following UNESCO’s mandate. He believes it is his duty to constantly adapt to the space age while simultaneously preserving human culture. From the perspective of Urdu literary critics, this endeavor reflects great balance and stability, as it represents a synthesis of the old and the new, of innovation and tradition. Ultimately, however, the homeowner has no idea what he is actually doing.

Writers, on the other hand, claim to know exactly what they are doing. It is widely asserted anyway that human self-awareness has advanced significantly in modern times; even T.S. Eliot has said as much. Consequently, in today’s literary marketplace, both experimentation and tradition command a high premium. There are dozens of poets in America who, upon request, can compose a poem in any traditional style within five minutes—and do so so flawlessly that one cannot distinguish the imitation from the original. This implies that modern writers have achieved a profound sense of seriousness, balance, and stability, allowing both experimentation and tradition to flourish side by side. However, before we celebrate this cultural progress, we must first understand what experimentation and tradition actually mean. Innovation and experimentation simply mean creating something that has rarely or never been done before. But what is tradition?

To discover how an average writer conceptualizes tradition, I picked up an English book featuring essays by various authors on the subject of experimentation and tradition. One writer argues that the tradition of the English novel is experimentation. Another claims that tradition is merely the culmination of successful experiments, and nothing more. A third asserts that tradition is constantly changing and evolving, and that we are perpetually creating it. A fourth states that every art form has its own distinct tradition. A fifth insists that tradition can never be complete. A sixth bases his entire argument on Wordsworth’s assertion that a great writer is one who expands the boundaries of human sensibility in unprecedented ways. The ultimate conclusion drawn from all these statements is that tradition, in and of itself, is nothing. It possesses no permanent status. Any piece of literature that simply grows a little old is labeled a tradition.

If this is truly what tradition means, one wonders why UNESCO and so many civilized people are so anxious about preserving it. Such traditions can be made and unmade every single day.

However, it is possible that the term tradition does hold a definitive meaning. T.S. Eliot claims to possess a clear conception of tradition, and it is largely due to his influence that the discourse around tradition has gained prominence in contemporary English criticism—and, by extension, in Urdu criticism. Therefore, let us turn to him.

Two things must be kept in mind regarding Eliot: first, he is a Roman Catholic, or at least favors the faith; second, he places immense emphasis on the historical sense, which he defines as an awareness of both the temporal and the timeless, experienced both individually and simultaneously. According to him, it is through this very consciousness that a writer becomes traditional.

In his discussion on tradition, Eliot states that the primary and fundamental purpose of literature is to provide a specific kind of refined, intellectual pleasure. He asserts that this has always been the case and will always remain so. This notion might hold true for Europe, but in the traditional societies of the East, literature and art have always been viewed merely as instruments; their true and fundamental purpose is to serve as a means of spiritual realization. Europeans—and nowadays, many Hindus as well—claim that the Hindu religion and art are one and the same. However, the Natya Shastra explicitly states that when humanity fell into decline and its capacity for spiritual realization diminished, Brahma created dance and music for the facilitation of mankind.

Furthermore, Eliot argues on the one hand that we can only approach literature through our own temperament, and that every generation possesses a new perspective. On the other hand, he asserts that the existence of clear moral standards is essential for establishing clear literary standards. Are temperament and moral standards the same thing? Are these moral standards absolute, or do they fluctuate? And where do they originate? Eliot conveniently dodges all these fundamental questions. He believes that each generation reads literature in its own way, and through its unique perspective, continuously alters the past and its tradition. In his view, tradition is not something immutable or static. Yet, at the same time, he claims that while the mind of Europe has continuously changed, it has never discarded anything in the process. What exactly are these things that the European mind has managed to preserve thus far?

Eliot is a great admirer of Dante, but does he know the principles according to which Dante selected his meter, or even the components of each individual line? Is the modern European mind aware of the concepts of Ibn Arabi upon which Dante’s poem is based? If it is not, then has the European mind not lost a great deal? Moreover, according to Eliot, tradition is subject to change, whereas the very first premise of Ibn Arabi’s concepts is that they are entirely immutable. This leads to the conclusion that Europe—and indeed, Eliot himself—has failed to preserve even Dante. What, then, is this tradition that Eliot so emphatically insists upon?

To understand tradition, Eliot considers it essential to be familiar with various fields of knowledge, such as linguistics. Therefore, let us examine the limitations of modern Western disciplines when it comes to understanding tradition. The Hindi word Jati has become Zat in Urdu. According to Western linguistics, this is merely a phonetic shift where a 'Z' sound has replaced a 'J' sound. In reality, however, it is a precise translation. The word Zat is primarily applied to God, but its meaning shifts according to the hierarchy of existence. Among Hindus, an individual's reality is determined by their Jati. Thus, in the social sphere, Jati is the individual's Zat (essence or being), which is why Jati was translated as Zat. This single example is enough to gauge just how much Western disciplines can actually help us understand tradition.

Now consider an even more astonishing statement from the Roman Catholic Eliot. He claims that tradition does not depend on beliefs; rather, beliefs take on a living form during the formation of tradition. If beliefs are generated in this manner, religion becomes a mere spectacle. The truth is that despite his religiosity, Eliot recoils from the word belief just as much as Gibbon did. In reality, Europe does not even know what belief is. In the East, belief is a matter of direct spiritual perception, and there are established methods for bringing belief into direct experience. Since the fourteenth century, even the Church in Europe has forgotten the true nature of belief. Consequently, for the past three hundred years, Europeans have viewed belief as either an oppressive mandate or a frozen emotion. Europe knows nothing beyond this. On top of this, Eliot claims that the European mind has abandoned nothing. He attributes the changes that have occurred in Europe to economic and industrial factors. If a belief can change or evolve alongside the invention of the washing machine, then what is the actual value of such a belief?

Ultimately, Eliot drags belief down to this very level. While defining tradition, he states that it is the sum of all actions—from the most solemn religious rituals to the customary way of greeting—that have become routine for people of the same race living in the same place. In short, Eliot is saying exactly what a score of other people say about tradition: that tradition simply means habit. But habit is a very fragile thing. Why place so much emphasis on keeping a habit alive? Eliot’s weakness is that he is fond of both religion and Darwin. Consequently, by raising a clamor about tradition, he has only convoluted the issue. In fact, his friend Wyndham Lewis remarked that he has rendered the issue completely meaningless.

Nevertheless, due to Eliot’s influence, the word tradition has become fashionable. Now everyone offers a definition of tradition, but the irony is that a book or author included in the tradition by one critic is promptly excluded by another. The best example is F.R. Leavis, who unceremoniously tossed Fielding out of the great tradition of the English novel. In short, the current situation in the West is that everyone has constructed their own distinct concept of tradition, leaving the word entirely devoid of meaning. Instead, they find themselves caught in an inescapable dilemma.

Literary criticism is, after all, a mock battle; we can afford to ignore it. However, the distress that creative artists are experiencing due to the lack of a proper understanding of tradition serves as a cautionary tale. I consider Ezra Pound to be the greatest living poet in the world today, but because the meaning of tradition remains unclear to him, he has fallen into a bizarre predicament. Everyone assumed that his magnum opus would conclude at a hundred cantos, but it kept going. Pound pointed out all the evils of the world. He enumerated all the noble values. But as the poem nears its end, the problem arises of providing a durable foundation for these values. Pound cannot find one. He borrowed his moral values from Confucius, but he always looked down upon the metaphysics behind them. Now, where is he supposed to find a justification for them? Should he use nature as a foundation? But what exactly is nature? He finds no answer. Consequently, in his bewilderment, Pound begins to praise the Magna Carta. But attempting to base human life on the Magna Carta is an utterly ridiculous endeavor.

So, it comes down to this: literature cannot survive without an understanding of what tradition means, and the West has completely failed to grasp this meaning. Thus, the original question remains unresolved: what is tradition?

In the West, only one man has answered this question, and the West refuses to listen to him. I am referring to René Guénon. He argues that traditional literature and traditional arts can only emerge within a traditional society, and a traditional society is one founded upon metaphysics. Metaphysics is not merely a collection of theories. Al-Tawhid Wahid (The Truth is One). There can be only one metaphysics; this is the original and fundamental tradition. It is not bound to any specific race or nation, though its modes of expression vary. The distinctions between Hindu, Chinese, or Islamic traditions arise precisely from these differing modes of expression. People here often assume that Islamic civilization is austere, while Hindu civilization is full of sensory vibrancy. However, the Upanishads state that at the center of human existence, there is neither the light of the sun, nor the moon, nor the stars; rather, everything is illuminated by the light of Purusha (the Cosmic Being). Therefore, the fundamental tradition is the same everywhere; only its outward forms differ.

What is this metaphysics? Since literature deals with the interconnected relationship between God, the universe, and humanity, I will present only that specific aspect of the fundamental tradition. Shah Wahaj-ud-Din has articulated this entire concept with great brevity in the preface to Al-Kahf wal-Raqim. He writes: When you conceive of the Absolute Being independent of any manifestations, it is the Divine Being. When you perceive it in relation to the proportion of its manifestations, it is the spiritual realm. When you observe it in relation to its functions, it is the material realm. Human existence signifies the Absolute Being. The human soul signifies the spirit, which is the synthesis of all internal and cosmic manifestations. The human body signifies the essence of all internal and cosmic materiality.

This is the concept that forms the very root of tradition. If literature is founded upon this concept, it is traditional; if not, it is not—even if it employs the exact same vocabulary and stylistic devices.

From this metaphysics, certain principles also emerge for understanding literature and evaluating its worth, which Shah Wahaj-ud-Din has also outlined. He has written only a few lines about literature, yet you will be hard-pressed to find literary criticism of this caliber in Urdu. He has established a standard that encompasses the literature of the entire world.

Now listen to his text. First, he explains that for the sake of knowledge, humanity has only two realms of manifestation before it: anfus (the inner self) and aafaq (the external universe). After this, he writes: Perfection lies in recognizing both simultaneously, with the recognition of the inner self dominating the recognition of the external universe. This is because the external universe is the body, and the inner self is its soul. In the external universe, nothing exists without the perception of the inner self. Thus, every single hair of the inner self is an entire universe for the external world. Therefore, for centuries, the poetry of every language has been considered complete only when it includes the external universe but gives dominance to the inner self. And in terms of affinity, every nation and community has declared the inner self as the beloved. The 'natural poetry' of this era, which is highly praised, is incomplete because it has only adopted the external universe and abandoned the inner self, which is the very soul of the external universe. Hence, this poetry is like a lifeless body. As for the objection raised against classical poetry that it is full of lies and exaggeration, this objection stems from ignorance, because nothing said about the soul can be an exaggeration.

Through these two excerpts, not only is a definitive meaning of tradition established, but we also gain a standard by which to determine the value of a literary work from a traditional perspective. Now, try looking at Urdu literature through this standard. I will only take two or three examples. Here, too, there is much talk about preserving and developing the tradition of Urdu literature, but at the same time, we have been trying to prove T.S. Eliot's assertion that every generation reads literature in a new way.

In the context of reading in a new way, a specific problem arises regarding the place of Nazeer Akbarabadi in the tradition of Urdu literature. We also know that despite his popular appeal, until a hundred years ago, he was not given a high status in literature. Therefore, some argued that the literary taste of people in the past was simply inferior. Others considered it the result of a lapse in taste in a few specific matters. Some claimed that during the feudal era, representatives of the common people were bound to be looked down upon. But if you look closely, every one of these arguments is flawed. Apply Shah Wahajuddin's standard, and you will understand what the real story is. In a traditional society, poets like Nazeer Akbarabadi also have a specific duty, and they were appreciated in that regard. However, in the majority of Nazeer's poetry, the element of the external universe (aafaq) is dominant, and the element of the inner self (anfus) is minimal. This is precisely why he was not placed in the ranks of the great poets, and the very first person to praise him was an Englishman, Fallon.

Take Maulana Hali as a second example. Outwardly, Hali appears to be a poet of tradition, but look even at his naat (poetry in praise of the Prophet). He uses traditional vocabulary, but he discards metaphysics and inserts morality instead. Hali has greatly benefited Urdu literature, but from the perspective of tradition, his primary achievement is that he expelled metaphysics from Urdu poetry.

Let us also take an example from prose. We include the name of Ratan Nath Sarshar among the founders of Urdu prose. But consider a passage from Fasana-e-Azad. Mian Azad sees a long-bearded man causing a commotion along with a group of children. Sometimes they overturn a cucumber seller's basket into the water. Sometimes they snatch a hunter's birds and set them free. In the end, it is revealed that he was doing these things to keep the children healthy and out of human sympathy. It is obvious that Sarshar took the basic framework from the story of Prophet Moses and Khidr, but instead of metaphysics, he used it to teach principles of hygiene and health. Now, see for yourself whether this is tradition or something else entirely.

Modern poets, of course, have consciously violated tradition, but among the modern poets, Faiz is famous for having preserved the tradition of Urdu poetry. Let us take a famous line of his as well:

Hum parwarish-e-lauh-o-qalam karte rahenge

[We will continue to nurture the tablet and the pen]

This is very good poetry, and the words are also traditional. There is no doubt about that. But is its meaning traditional as well?

Ponder over these questions yourself. My only purpose was to show that tradition can have only one meaning. Aside from this, all talk of preserving or reviving tradition is merely an emotional itch, nothing more.