disciple of the famous ‘Nooh Narvi’. Or, one may say, this 'Asrar' of his mostly came
handy to him when he wrote his 'mystery' novels.
But what a 'pur-asrar' coincidence it was when,
four years ago in a blaze of deserved publicity, he died on the same July 26, which was
his birthday 53rd to be exact. This is the kind of a coincidence that
could easily have occurred in one of his own mystery novels.
Ibne Safi was a prolific writer. He wrote some
three hundred novels. He was immensely popular and well known as well.
Even late Agatha Christie is said to have heard of him and his
contribution to Urdu literature.
NO LITERARY WRITER
Maybe some of you are shocked over my rather
loose use of the word ‘literature' in connection with Ibne Safi! He was
not a literary writer, you would say and I admit that his writings are not
literary in its strictly high-brow sense. Literature, I know, is an
intellectual and artistic activity aiming at creating meanings and beauty
through communicable words, giving its readers aesthetic, pleasure,
leaving them intellectually elevated. And Jasoosi writing is none of
that. At best it can leave its readers pleased, but never elevated. Or
even just changed a wee bit.
Ibne Safi himself never claimed to be part of any
literary history. He twice explained that all his endeavours were directed
towards giving his reader some decent and healthy pastime. This he
succeeded in doing year after year till his death.
But the way he performed his self assumed duty
has made him more or less immortal with his readers. But for that, his
novels were strictly not literary, he was almost artistically knocking at
the doors of serious literature. He was a great story-teller.
Talking of his writings being healthy, here are a
few points to ponder. His novels are not devoid of beautiful women.
Nevertheless, none of his heroes, be they Faridi and Hameed or Imran, are,
sexually inclined to be lax. It is an open fact that a reader, specially
if he happens to be green of age, identifies himself with the central
figures of whatever he is reading. Unconsciously, he enters the story of
the novel. Events happening to its heroes start occurring to him. Their
sorrows, their joys, their trials, and their triumph become his own. Now,
in his tales Ibne Safi gives us heroes that though perfectly human, yet
identifying with them does not give rise to any moral degradation in the
reader's mind. In this era of open pornography, Ibne Safi has been an
angel of God Almighty Himself. Let his soul rest in peace.
Of course, Faridi is an odd person, such that in
the eyes of Hameed one could doubt his very manhood. But Hameed
compensates. Every young woman is beautiful to him, and like thousands of
his fans, he must fall in love head over heals with each one of them. But
then under his skin he is really a, bashful fellow. He simply is not
capable of crossing the limits. He cannot even think of doing it. If any
one of his fans takes him as his model he is bound to, end up as decent
and as thoroughly honourable as Hameed always is.
And Imran, demonstratively trembles at the very
thought of a woman. And so far as ‘a drop of something strong' is
concerned, he keeps himself strictly dry. His colleagues, too, are not
perverts of any kind. Even Joseph who most of his life drank like a
fish, at last quits it. And so far women are concerned, he is so much
terrified of them that he would rather die than, even talk to them in
privacy.
Ibne Safi seems to be religiously adhering to the
maxim of civilised life that decency does not mean never thinking about
the opposite sex. It would be pervertion. Decency lies, in the fact that
one should not let one's feelings take the better of oneself. One must
never express them out of context even to one's own self.
One more healthy aspect of Ibne Safi's novels is
that they graphically emphasise that like crime, violence, too, does never
pay. The long arm of the law takes over even if the culprit is a powerful
person like Gerald Shastri or an organisation backed by latest science and
technology like the people of the mysterious Zeroland.
Yet another specialty that one can notice in Ibne
Safi is that like those on classical stage, all his main characters are
larger than life size. Each one of them is a sort of Nuclear bomb, be they
Imran, or Hameed, Faridi or Leonard, Sing-Hee or Thressia Bimble 'B'. All
are larger than normal human beings. This makes them more conspicuous. If
they are good and intelligent, there is none else like them. Even the evil
ones are larger. If they are like some dirty reptiles in a gutter, they
have wings of gold.
Probably, Ibne Safi was a dreamer. An idealist.
That is why his characters are more ideals than mere ideas. Maybe the
characters created by him reflect his own personal desires, his
unconscious dreams. For example Joseph. This more or less, perpetually
drunk but mentally always wide-awake character is an ideal. Riaz
Khairabadi speaks of a buddy who did never drink but was always found
intoxicated and swaying. Joseph drinks like a fish but is never caught
even napping.
Ibne Safi, perhaps, picked this unique character
from some Arabian Night tale. He is an amalgam of Aladin's Jinnee and some
Zangi slave from Alf Laila's Baghdad. Though not really 'bought' by Imran,
this black giant of a man behaves as if he were apart from being utterly
devoted and faithful to Imran, he has almost some amazingly Jinnati
capabilities which he invokes only for his hero-boss, Imran.
Joseph is not the only hint of Ibne Safi being
under the influence of Arabian Nights. He, too, creates Tilismats the
magic-land of Dastan-e-Ameer Hamza. Only, since he belongs to the 20th
century, his Tilismat had to be more like science-fiction. The Mirreekh
(Mars) of his Zeroland is a moot example.
But he shows that this Zeroland of our greedy
desires is nothing but an illusion created by deceitful exploiters to
allure the naive and the unsuspecting.
And all Imran himself! Is he not a modern-version
of Amru Ayyar? Like Amru, Imran too is never short of tricks; though
unlike that Dastan character, he does not have to carry a magic Zambeel.
Keeping his sharp wits about him, he is always so very resourceful. Why,
even his enemies do unwittingly provide him his material aid.
SORT OF ROBOT
Unfortunately, there is almost a sort of
robotness, in one of his leading characters, Faridi. He is less human. He
is never wrong. Almost never; He is invincible. He is super Sherlock. Just
when the enjoyable Hameed has brought us almost to the end of the novel,
he suddenly reappears from somewhere and most non-chalantly produces the
pursued criminal as if out of some invisible pocket of his. Most
enigmatic, isn't it?
There are also certain powerful under-currents in
all the Ibne Safi novels. His good characters are models of fortitude.
They teach us that one must never despair. Allah verily helps those who
keep digging, with intelligence and with perseverance. This is a great
message to his readers, specially the younger ones.
And then there is his patriotism. Not only does
he keep pressing upon his readers the importance of national security and
country's defence, but also keeps unraveling the dangers to it from
mammon-worshipping business tycoons, corrupt officials, ruthless smugglers
and sneaky foreign agents.
He even clearly hints at the imperialist Power
that is ever out to interfere with our freedom. Very names, like Roberts,
are suggestive. This enhances the political and international
consciousness of his readers.
Ibne Safi was the first novelist of Urdu, or for
that matter, of any language in the sub-continent who became popular on
such a. mass scale. His novels were called as currency notes by
booksellers and sold in the black.
POPULARITY
But what made him so popular? There have been
other crime story-writers but none has clicked so loud.
The reason, perhaps, is more in his style than in
his mystery-manship. A chaste, even classical but simple and uncomplicated
Urdu, plus a fascinating tempo of unfolding events, development of story
and well chiseled characters, such that one would like to emulate, and
that are youthful, handsome and ever-successful, are in magic.
Then he takes us to all the posh places that have
been out of bounds for many of us even in dreams, places like Tip Top
Night Club and Arlickchinoo. Look at even the names!
A younger friend of mine, once said that the
greatest contribution of the late popular writer was his correct and
chaste Urdu, beautiful, easy flowing and witty. Urdu is not just an
aggregate of some million of words. It is a neat expression of a vast and
rich culture. If you want to let the new generation inherit Urdu, let it
start with Ibne Safi.
I couldn't agree with him more.
