People around me believe I am a cynical person as nothing around me seems to be fit as per the great divine plan and according to the social structure. They say I have the tendency to scrape the rationality out of every single thing. I can’t disappoint them it isn’t my thing.
Let’s talk about modern poets. I get the eerie feeling whenever I read or watch the Urdu poets of our modern era. They are the living embodiment of narcissists who would dominate the modern world, according to my prediction (Trump can regard a good example). These narcissists can be seen everywhere as this is all about the new age thinking and philosophy. It’s about having that egotistical approach that everything is phony and only your ne’er-do-well ideas will save the world around you.
To be a modern Urdu poet you may require some key elements. You need messy entangled hairs, a rough beard, a dressing style which gives you a junky look, and last but not least a social media page where you can post your thoughtless poetry using a piece of emotional flute-based background music because only that will make it worth listening to. According to these poets, the thoughts, Ideas, the craft, Behr, Takhayul everything can go down the drain. The only goal these days is to be a part of Whatsapp and Facebook status, your video becomes viral and you become an overnight sensation without even caring that good literature and poetry profiles the future generation. This is the old philosophy that believed that literature plays a vital role in shaping/nurturing the future generation; it provides a breeding ground for their concepts upon which they institute their ideologies. What would they get out of these so-called social media laureates? The classic poetry was all about the finely crafted Ghazals, and poems. They were sowed in the Zameen using the philosophical thoughts, the delicate intricacies of the love and loved ones; the Radeef keeps tapping the soul with the enlightening ideas etched in the Qafiyas. Alas! The delicacy of Awad/Lucknow and Amroha is neglected; the bloom and boldness of Lahore and Karachi evaporated from the world of Urdu poetry.
This one is to offer slow-clap tribute to the poets of our social media age for ruining the entire craft and obviously one thing which I loved all my life. The Ghalib, Meer, Momin, Faiz, Muneer, Mohsin Naqvi, Iftekhar Arif will be remembered as the ground seems to be infertile after them.
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