My Narrative is Naught but a Search for the Bygones

Yet another independence day, but this time it is not free of the gloom and despair that seems to be rising with every passing day in our country. How it relates to poetry, you might wonder. Let me ask, how does it not? Everything that goes around a genuine poet bears its marks on his soul. If a poet is not sensitive to his surroundings then he must review and think deeply about his art. He must think if his art blinds him to what goes on around him or does it provide him with insights that others probably lack. If a poet is able to absorb the sorrows of the present in his self, wisdom will follow. Only then he would be able to successfully look back into the past and come up with a vision for the future. This of course reminds us of none other than Iqbal, who once said about his art:

“Mein, keh meri ghazal mein hai aatish-e rafta ka suraagh
Meri tamam sarguzasht kho’ay hu’on ki justuju”

Think about it!
-N.A.

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