HOME      PICS. PROGRAMS      BOOKS      GHAZLAIN       NAZMAIN      NASR        NEWS     CONTACT     LINKS

He needs no introduction; for, he is undoubtedly a bright star in the firmament of Urdu literature of North America. 

Khalid Khaja is based in Southern California but is quite well known among Urdu societies and literati through out North America. He is generally identified as an eminent poet, but the first thing I noticed about him was his gift of uncanny articulation.  Not many could speak so effectively and with such confidence as he did.  He was speaking, when I first heard him,  about the literary genius of an émigré Urdu writer and I kept on marveling at his command of the language, his extensive knowledge of Urdu and Persian literature, and his ability to marshal the available data to present them in a highly literary diction.

This impression became stronger every time, since then, that I saw him function as the master of ceremonies at numerous poetic symposia and other literary functions. Often his inherent humor enlivened his comments and turned the function into a lively and enjoyable occasion.  His literary twin, Irfan Murtaza, enhanced further this quality of the literary meets with his scintillating wit. The two of them, besides being good friends, complement each other in this particular respect.

Urdu Writers’ Society is blessed to have them both.  I would be guilty of an act of omission, if in this respect I did not mention the contribution of Asadullah Hussaini ‘Chakkar’, another prominent member of the Society, who has earned a niche for himself through poetic humor and satire chiefly on the seamy side of life in this country.

Urdu is not the mother tongue of Khalid Khaja, as he was born in a Pushtu speaking village at a distance from Peshawar.  It is the language of his choice and he embraced it like his mentor, Ahmad Faraz, and declares emphatically: “Urdu is a beautiful language: it is my language”. 

As a poet, he cannot be fitted into any of the traditional slots. He is not a romantic poet like Jigar or his own mentor, Faraz; he is not a pessimist like Mir or Fani; he is not a revolutionary like Faiz or Makhdoom; he is not a philosopher like Iqbal or Rumi, although one notices glimpses of all these facets in his poetry.  He is a thoughtful writer with thought-provoking verses.

He might have taken Ghalib to be his role model. Like Ghalib, he has adopted the format of ‘ghazal’ for the presentation of his ideas.  And, he has been very selective in the choice of his couplets. For, most of his ghazals comprise half a dozen or even less couplets. He has tried to pack each couplet with some novel idea.  He may be miles behind Ghalib, but the height he has been able to achieve in the effort is still creditable and is accepted as such by many of his contemporaries.

Ghazal is usually a conglomeration of couplets carrying different themes  -some even conflicting-  but fitting into a certain meter, rhythm and verbal harmony.  Khalid’s ghazals are almost always in harmony thematically. The mood of all the couplets in a ghazal remains almost constant and free of paradoxical shifts.

Whenever Khalid found the narrow strait of ghazal unsuitable for accommodating the ideas he wanted to present to his readers, he has resorted to the format of free verse.  But, such compositions too are full of rhythm and music, despite the emphasis being on the contents.

Khalid sounds deeply nostalgic of the simplicity and honesty of village life where he had spent his childhood. The hypocrisy obtaining in city culture offends his sensitivities. He is annoyed to see the flow of people from villages to cities.  He says:

“ShehroN ki simth hijrat-i-amboh roknay  
Khalid pahaaRH kaat kay rustauN meiN dal day”

(To stop the mass migration of villagers to cities, you should cut up a mountain and place the boulders on the ways out of the village.)

In another couplet he says:          

“Shaher meiN reh kay bhi haq bath he kahney wala
Meray under hay koey gauN ka rehnay wala” 

(Although I live in a city, there is still a villager within me who impulsively speaks out the truth.)

This does not mean that he is enamored of every thing that happens in villages. For instance his free verse poem “Yes, Mom, Something Is Broken” is a scathing attack on the village ‘mullah’ who seduces a young girl on the pretext of exorcising and expelling an evil spirit from her body.  Khalid has given a graphic description of the evil mullah’s tactics.

He has similarly painted a very moving picture of the plight of a Palestinian girl of tender age who has lost her father and brother in the conflict over her homeland and is left alone with her mother to fend for herself in a hostile environ. 

Khalid has been living in this country for almost a quarter century, but his love for his native land has remained constant. It has actually become more intense with the passage of time. Quite a few of his couplets betray the pangs of the memories of the land of his origin, particularly of his village and its milieu.

Khalid was a young Superior Service officer back home when the military take over of  the reins of government worked as the last straw on the camel’s back and made him decide to migrate to the U.S.  Some of his couplets reflect his anguish over the suppression of human rights there.  He says, for instance: 

“Shab-parastauN ki hukoomat hai vatan meiN meray
Unko andesha naheiN koey sahar honay ka”

(The upholders of the darkness of night are ruling my homeland now.  They hardly think that there would ever be a dawn.)

In his beliefs, he appears closer to the mystics, the Sufis; for, he often refers to “tariquat” in his couplets.

He appears to have taken refuge in the lap of mysticism, as his mind could hardly unravel many a mystery of life. He kept mulling over these mysteries, particularly at night, and the only consequence was a searing mental torture and sleep deprivation. His compendium was published some time back by a publisher in Lahore.