Author – Labib Mahfuj Chsity
I remember a saying of Kazi Nazrul Islam. He said, “I do not have the courage to go as low as I have to go to earn money.” Creative people have so much self-respect and are so sensitive that even when life gets upset, they embrace death, yet they remain steadfast on the question of self-respect. Those who have read ‘Nazrul Smriti Kotha’ are somewhat familiar with the difficult times of Nazrul’s life. Today I will tell you the story of the life of another great poet with a bad fate.
His name is Muhammad Akhtar. Also known as Sagir Siddiqui. He was born on 14 August 1928. On 19 July 1974, his dead body was found on a street in Lahore, Pakistan. He was 46 years old at the time. His only companion for many years was sitting next to the body. The dog sat there for 1 year and then died in the same place. I am just telling you the sad story of such a fate of a poet with extraordinary potential.
Muhammad Akhtar was the only child of his parents in a wealthy family. The early years of his life were spent in Ambala and Saharanpur. His tutor was the renowned poet Habib Hasan. He was mainly inspired to write poetry from Habib Hasan. Later, he moved to Amritsar to live and regularly wrote poems and ghazals. Urdu poetry brought him immense popularity at that time. He regularly attended poetry recitation meetings in Ludhiana and Gurdaspur.
When Pakistan was born in 1947, he was 19 years old. Driven by patriotism, he left Amritsar and settled in Lahore. With a slim build, a yellow silk shirt with pants, curly hair and a melodious voice, poet Sagir Siddiqui became popular by writing and reciting ghazals.
Sagir wanted to write the national anthem of Pakistan. However, his writing was not accepted by the government. After that, he published a literary magazine in Lahore and the magazine flopped and had to be closed. From then on, Sagir’s life of financial hardship began.
He lived in a cheap hotel. The meager income he earned by writing poems for the magazine was enough to cover the hotel rent. Sagir continued to write serials.
Within a decade of coming to Lahore, his philosophy of life had changed a lot. When he observed corruption all around, the devaluation of talent, and nepotism in every nook and cranny of society and state, he became disappointed. An all-consuming pride filled his heart and mind. He was defeated by the original pride of the writer’s heart. In search of some peace, he took refuge in the destructive arms of drugs!
He started taking morphine regularly from the doorman of a hospital in Lahore. Gradually, he surrendered himself completely to morphine. He left the hotel. He got off on the road.
Sagir was often seen in the Circular Road, Anarkali Bazaar, Akhbar Market, Aibak Road, Shah Almi and Data Darbar areas of Lahore. A devastated face, torn clothes, matted hair, writing poems by candlelight on the side of the road. Sometimes sad, sometimes immersed, sometimes tired of the disappointment of life!
Sagir became even more depressed when it was seen that his writings were being published in different ways under the names of others! Some were getting Sagir to write one poem each in exchange for a cigarette, and publishing it under his own name. Some people are making money by using Sagir’s talent! And Sagir is lying on the sidewalk! Foodless! Helpless!
Prithvi had abandoned Sagir. She did not give him the value of his talent, did not give him the slightest recognition for his work! Sagir left Prithvi in great anger and pride. With a blind eye, he became completely insane! He would sit on the sidewalk all night long and compose poems and ghazals. At dawn, he would gather the papers and make a pile and set them on fire! Staring blankly at the burning poems! Some knew him to be crazy, some knew him to be a beggar!
Sagir had only one friend in his life. He made a dog on the street his friend. The dog never abandoned him. Whatever food people gave him, the two of them would share and eat. They would sleep together.
Morphine addiction, life on the street, great despair and disgust for life reached its peak for Sagir. One winter night in 1974, Sagir’s dead body was found lying on the side of the road. He was lying on the side of the road in the bitter cold without any warm clothes. No one was around. Only his only friend, the dog, was seen sitting next to Sagir’s dead body.
The dog never left that place. It was sitting there. After 1 year, the dog died at that place.
Sagir’s literary works are largely extinct. What little is there has not been translated into Bengali. I am quoting two lines –
Dil mila aur gom shanas mila
Phul ko aag ka libas mila
Har shanawar bhanwar men duba tha
Jo sitara mila udas mila.
Translation –
My heart is covered with sorrow
As if a garment of fire has fallen on the flower of my heart!
When the swimmer was lowered into the water, he drowned –
Every star I saw, sad, speechless!
Date of writing – 19/05/2020
Author – Labib Mahfuj Chsity