This anthology is an attempt to familiarize the English readers with a mere glimpse of a handful of Twinkling stars from the infinite sky which, in reality, is resplendent with millions and millions of them.
Articles on Urdu poets and their poetry!
But why in English?
Poetry, I firmly hold, is not the monopoly of any single language or, for that matter, the sum total of all the languages. The real poetry is far beyond words. It can be seen, felt or heard. It canâ€™t be defined. What, for example, is the sight of a rising sun at the Tiger Hills or a sunset at Kanyakumari? Is it nor poetry? Again, what else is watching a blooming flower, a blushing bride, a smiling child, a dancing peacock, a cooing bulbul, a leaping dolphin, a racing jaguar, a toddling penguin, a full moon sight, a shooting star, a V formation of skylarks, the first snowfall, the first monsoon drizzle, the breezing rustle in the reeds, the chiming of temple-bells and so on? Can any poet capture and contain these sights and sounds to meter and diction?
Poetry is the language of soul. It begins where words stop. The best a poet can do is to restore just a hazy hue, a mere fragment of that celestial splendor and present it to the readers. How could anyone, be it a viewer, a poet, a painter or any other artists, catch the magic of the moment when he himself is enchanted, enthralled, spell-bound and goes into a state of trance. No one has confessed it better than Firaq himself:
Us waqt ka aalam kya kahihe
Jab fikre-e-ghazal main karta hoon!
Khud apne khayalon ko aksar
Main haath lagate darta hoon!!