Interview – Nashir Naqvi

1. How did you begin your journey as a writer? Was it poetry initially or prose?

As a child, I accompanied my father, Nazir Amrohvi, to Muharram majalis (lectures commemorating the tragedy of Karbala). Exposure to Mir Anees and Mirza Dabeer meant that I memorised many of their rubaiyyat (quatrains) and, by age five, could recite marsiyas during similar gatherings. This bond transformed me from someone who cherished poetry into someone who nurtured and brought it to life.

In 1972, as a punishment for poor academic results, my dad and maternal uncle, Tahurul Hasan, asked me to write a manqabat. Sitting in the central hall of my house, I composed a seven-verse manqabat in praise of *Imam Zain-ul-Abidin, which I even recited at a gathering, and it was well received.

Khudi ne saath diya be khudi saath diya
Baqadr-e-zarf mera har kisi ne saath diya
Aseer ho ke jo beemaar Karbala se chala
To shaam tak tera bekas phuphi ne saath diya

Selfhood stood beside me, and so did self-loss,
Each, to one’s capacity, lent me their cause,
The *captive who, ailing, from Karbala was led,
Till dusk in Damascus — his helpless aunt (Lady Zainab) with him tread.

Dad and uncle were also pleased, and they congratulated me. However, Dad warned me, lest it distract me from my studies. It was already too late, and I did not stop after that.

It is often said that one reason people become poets is that somewhere within them lies the pang of love. I have no hesitation in admitting that I, too, was not untouched by it. At the annual Muharram majalis (mourning assemblies) in Jogirampura, the sight of a grief-stricken, tear-stained face became imprinted on my eyes, and for many days I remained captive to the mourning of love. Yet I always kept passion within the bounds of reason. From that point on, pain itself began to fashion the ghazal as my solace. It was then that I composed the very first ghazal of my life in these words—

Jazbaat ke sholon ko jub koi hawa de hai
Ehsaas-e-tamanna me eka ag laga de hai
Aadat hii na ho jis ki vaadon ko wafa karna
Voh vaadah shikan yaar ab dars-e-vafa de hai

When passion’s flames are fanned by the breeze,
Desires ignite like fire with ease,
One unaccustomed to keeping a vow,
That faithless beloved preaches loyalty now.

Jaun Elia’s poetry also influenced my inclination to ghazals.

In 1976, I began attending mushairas and, on several occasions, successfully hosted them in India and abroad.

2. Ghazal, in your words, is about ‘bazm’ (gathering), whereas nazm and especially marsiya focus on ‘azm’ (resolve). Amroha itself has a history of marsiya recitation during Muharram. How did it influence you?

My elder brother, Ali Naqvi, was not only an excellent reciter of tahtul-lafz khwani (rhythmic prose), but also a poet. In my community, during Muharram, both classical and contemporary elegies and salutations are recited within the traditions of sozkhwani and tahtul-lafz khwani. In this way, the preservation of the Urdu language is naturally passed on to the younger generation. My early exposure to this tradition planted within me the seed of literary refinement, which over time grew into a flourishing tree of literary expression.

Regarding marsiya, it is a genre that advocates for the oppressed. Another merit is that the character who is the revered beloved in a marsiya provides enjoyment for both the reader and the listener, enabling them to see him as their beloved. Additionally, this beloved also imparts the true meaning of such gatherings. In contrast, in a ghazal, the beloved is absent; instead, it is a dear woman who causes suffering through separation rather than union. Consequently, in my poetry, I have placed greater emphasis on marsiya.

3. What about your work as a marsiya writer?

In 1978, my first collection of Marsiyas, titled “Tishnagi” (Thirst), was published. In 1982, a selection of nauha and salam titled “Waseela” (Means) was published. Then, in 1984, after the long Marsiya “Afaqiyat” (Universality) was published and received an award from the Urdu Academy in Delhi, my Marsiyas gained attention among discerning individuals. In 1987, a further collection of seven new marsiyas, titled “Lala Zar Subh” (Tulip-field of Morning).

I continued composing new elegies on topics such as ‘Irteqa-e-Marsiya’ (Evolution of Elegy), ‘Qalam ki Shahadat’ (Testimony of the Pen), ‘Deedavari’ (Blessed Sight), ‘Khasaane Khuda’ (Lamentation of God), ‘Mairaj’ (The Ascension), ‘Waqt, Hum, aur Hussain’ (Time, Us and Hussain).

4. How did radio happen?

In 1979, I left Amroha for Delhi and, after more than a year of struggle, secured a position as non-teaching staff at Jawaharlal Nehru University, thanks to the recommendation of my paternal uncle, Mehdi Nazmi, and Saghar Khayami. At the same time, I had the opportunity to work initially as an Assistant Editor and later as an Announcer in the Urdu Service of All India Radio. During this period, attracted by the economical bus pass for DTC travel in Delhi, I enrolled in the University’s Media Course. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as I got to learn from many prominent media experts and started doing advertisements for private companies.

5. Your tenure at Punjabi University in Patiala involved participating in numerous literary activities. It must be rewarding. 

In February 1995, the late Chief Minister of Punjab, Sardar Beant Singh, presided over an Indo-Pak mushaira in Patiala, which I hosted. Poets such as Kaifi Azmi, Ali Sardar Jafri, Qateel Shifai, Habib Jalib, Jagan Nath Azad, Khumar Barabankvi, Nida Fazli, Bashir Badr, Majrooh Sultanpuri, Krishan Bihari Noor, and Saghar Khayami participated in it.

From 1997 to 2017, I continuously organised national and international seminars and conferences at Punjab University. At the same university, I began new courses in Urdu and supervised more than a dozen scholars in their pursuit of PhD degrees. My books, such as “Urdu Punjab aur Sikh Shu’ara,” “Punjab aur Urdu Afsana,” “Sufiyana Adabi Riwayat,” and “Urdu aur Punjabi Lipi aur Adabi Jaizay”, are included in the Urdu syllabus of Punjabi University and Guru Nanak Dev University.

6. You have been associated with numerous cultural organisations over the years. What role can they play in an increasingly polarised world?

The essence of Tasawwuf (Sufism) lies in the idea that there is no ghayr (otherness), no Bayr (external), but only khayr (goodness). With this spirit of universal goodwill, we launched the Sufi Foundation India in 2003 to promote the message of peace, love, and humanity beyond all religious and social divisions. I was among its founding members, along with Professor Akhtarul Wasey and Dr A. A. Siddiqui (then DGP of Punjab), who served as the Foundation’s Chairman.

People from diverse backgrounds — including Sikh, Hindu, and non-Muslim friends — joined this movement. Punjab, historically the heartland of Sufi thought in South Asia, became the natural ground for this mission. Most of the subcontinent’s great Sufi saints were associated with this region. Even Khawaja Gharib Nawaz (Mu’inuddin Chishti) stayed for three months in Samana during his spiritual journey.

The foundation published ‘Sada-e-Sufi’, a magazine dedicated to Sufi thought and culture, several books on Sufism and related themes, organised international seminars that built an intellectual and spiritual bridge between India and Pakistan through Sufi scholarship and dialogue, helped established Baba Farid Centre for Sufi Studies at the University of the Punjab, Lahore, helped create a similar Centre at Punjabi University, Patiala, where I served as the founding director for ten years, involved in Research and publications on the lives and teachings of Khawaja Gharib Nawaz and Baba Farid, and organised cultural programs highlighting Sufi singing, Qawwali, and other artistic expressions connected to Sufi heritage.

Since Baba Farid’s verses are deeply respected within Sikh scripture (Guru Granth Sahib), our work also focused on promoting his message of compassion and spiritual unity.

Although I have now retired and settled in Amroha, my commitment to Sufi studies — and to the mission of preserving the heritage of the Imamzadas (descendants of the Imams) — continues.

7. The shrine of Imam Mashad Ali was an interesting discovery. What was the background?

In our genealogical records, we usually trace lineage through the chain of Imams — the eighth Imam, then the ninth, and so on. However, one aspect that is often overlooked is that each Imam had multiple marriages, and children were born from each union. These descendants were also Imamzadas, yet many of them were ignored in later genealogical compilations. For instance, Abbas ibn Ali (a son of Imam Ali) is not mentioned in most family trees. Similarly, Zayd ibn Ali (a son of Imam Zayn al-Abidin) is omitted — though his lineage continued through the Zaydis, who preserved his memory.

So in truth, each Imam had offspring, and through them, the line of Imamzadas extended further.

Imam Mashhad Ali, an Imamzada from the family of Imam Ali al-Rida, migrated to India after facing persecution under the Abbasid rule. His caravan of family members and nobles settled at a place they named ‘Samana’, after the Imamzada’s mother, Lady Samana. That settlement later became the town that still bears the name Samana, located in present-day Punjab.

A shrine was first built at the site during the Ghurid period in the 12th century. The development of the shrine into a tomb occurred around 967 Hijri (1560 CE), during the reign of Emperor Akbar, according to an inscription on the shrine.

When Pakistan was established in 1947, most of the Sayyid families of Samana — the Zaidi, Rizvi, and Naqvi (referred to as Bukhari Sayyids then) — migrated to Lahore and other parts of Pakistani Punjab. After the migration, Hindu families from regions like Jhang, who had moved across the border, came to live in Samana. As a result, after 1950, the shrine ceased to function as a Muslim holy place, since there were no Muslims left in the area.

Later, in 2003, the Punjab Waqf Board was reorganised. Before that, the Waqf Board was a joint administrative body for Punjab, Haryana, Himachal, and Chandigarh. Upon public demand, Punjab formed its own independent Waqf Board (which was a joint administrative body for Punjab, Haryana, Himachal, and Chandigarh, earlier) in 2004. I was appointed as its first Shia member, both as a representative and an academic scholar, being a university professor.

During that period, an officer of the Board, Syed Sadiq Husain Naqvi, who belonged to the same Samana family, informed me about an old stone inscription at the Imamzada’s shrine and asked me to come and check it. So, I travelled there with other Board members and staff. At the time, our secretary and senior member was Izhar Alam, who was also the Additional Director General of Police. He provided official support for our visit.

When we reached Samana, we examined the stone — it had a Persian inscription loosely translated as:

..Constructed under the supervision of Ajruddin Khan, son of Bakhsh Allah Khan, Governor of the province, in the month of Ramadan 967 Hijri, corresponding to Year 4 of Emperor Akbar’s reign.

This confirmed that the shrine had been built in approximately 1560 CE.

To verify this further, I contacted Maulana Syed Kalbe Jawad. We reviewed the genealogical records together and continued cross-checking the information. Later, I visited Lahore six times, met the families originally from Samana, and obtained documentary evidence and genealogical charts from them.

In 2005, I invited a delegation from Pakistan, consisting of 72 people of Samana descent, to visit India. When they came to Samana, they told us that there had been three Azakhanas (mourning houses) in the town:

1. One belonging to Hazrat Dada Farid Sahib, a revered elder of the Zaidi family,
2. One belonging to Mir Amanullah Husaini Sahib, from the Rizvi family,
3. And one belonging to the Bukhari Sayyids, which still exists today.

The other two — the Rizvi and Zaidi Azakhanas — had by then collapsed. Based on all this evidence, I compiled and published a comprehensive book on the subject, Samana aur Shehzada-e-Imam.

8. What are your earliest memories of Amroha? Did you notice any differences when you returned to the city after retirement?

Many old traditions have survived in Amroha. One of these is the recitation of shajarah (genealogical tree). Mirasi Anchcha Shaheed, who accompanied Makhdoom Shah Wilayat, initiated the tradition of orally reciting the shajarah (genealogical tree) of the Sayyid families during ceremonies in Amroha.

Marasi recite the shajarah like this:

Ba de hazaar saal ba de pusht panah
Saware Rasool, gagan phool
Makke Madine ghar paak musalle, Payambar ghar nawase
Hazrat Muhammad Mustafa, hazrat Fatima Zahra
Hazrat Ali Murtaza sher-e-Khuda ke potey
Hazrat Imam Hussain ke potey…

After a thousand years, beneath ancestral shade,
The Prophet’s rider, a celestial bloom,
From Makkah and Madinah, the purest home of prayer, the Prophet’s own descendants
From Muhammad al-Mustafa, from Fatima Zahra,
From Ali al-Murtaza, the Lion of God,
From the lineage of Imam Hussain…

This chain extends to the grandfather of the person being honoured, continues through the father’s name, and then reaches the son, where it stops.

The mourning for the martyrs of Karbala, along with symbolic objects and marsiya (elegiac poetry) associated with it, imbued me with a lesson-like essence of rejecting oppression and sympathising with the oppressed. Culturally, our attire has always remained simple. In earlier times, people wore a fitted muslin tunic in summer and a quilted jacket of black-printed fabric in winter. However, the kurta and sherwani have now replaced the old dress. This has been my attire too whenever I visited Amroha in the past.