(Mujtaba Hussain) There is a famous couplet written by renowned Urdu poet Dr. Sir Mohammed Iqbal:
Hazaroon saal nargis apni bay noori pe rothi hai [badi mushkil say hotha hai chamain mein deedavar paida (For thousands of years, narcissus (nargis) weeps for being lighless [with great difficulty is born in the garden some one worth seeing)
This couplet of Dr. Iqbal is the one, which most of our penmen (writers) use in our obituary writings unstintingly for every Tom Dick and Harry who passes away from this world and in this way compel narcissus (nargis) to weep for thousands of years.
Presumably, we haven’t used this couplet for any personality (even if he/she is so great) for writing any of our obituary column on his/her passing away from this world.
It is not the reason that we don’t remember this couplet but the actual reason is that we have always regarded the sanctity of a word or a couplet in high esteem. Many of our beloved and respectful personalities have deserted us but we did not deem it appropriate to squander this magnificent couplet on these personalities, which the worth seeing personality and its creator must have passed through.
Last week when the world famous artist M. F. Hussain passed away from this world this couplet of Dr. Iqbal came to our mind spontaneously because M. F. Hussain was really such a worth seeing personality bestowed with foresight, subtlety insight and far sightedness.
He was blessed with such an eye that his eyesight itself used to wonder. He had sight and also a scene with a vast background which was strong and unique. Sight used to be his and taking scene from time, he used to highlight it with such embellishments and unique colouring decorating it as a galaxy of hue and light in the context of sense and meaning.
With reference to sight and scene, came to our memory, the famous ophthalmologist Dr. Shyam Sunder Prasad. Twenty two years ago when Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated, Dr. Shyam Sunder Prasad’s clinic was also severely destroyed as a result of a blind act of public violence.
When we read this news in the newspaper, we felt grief that on account of the blindness of the mob an important center of eyesight was damaged. A few days after this incident, we happened to come to Hyderabad and we went to meet Dr. Shyam Sunder Prasad.
We saw that he is engaged in correcting the eyesight of people. We said “Doctor sahab! Even after what had happened to you, you are busy in correcting the eyesight of people. In fact, if you ask me there is no need of eyesight for this society. On the other hand, there is a need to set up such clinics where human beings should be deprived of their eyesight so that people like you should not see at all what is happening in the society”. He told with a smile” Huzoor (your honour)! My job is to provide sight, it is not my responsibility to provide scene. I can only provide sight (basarath) to bestow insight (baseerath) is either the responsibility of society or Nature”. This courageous review of his flabbergasted us. In front of the uparelleled sight of M. F. Hussain, thousands of scenes scattered throughout the world.
After selecting any scene, any character or an article, in order to transfer it on to his canvas, he used to take up his brush, and then he used to include his viewpoint with his creative sight and insight into it. And this very viewpoint used to be transformed into unique model in his paintings later.
When Husain used to strike the first stroke of his brush on the canvas, it was not possible to presume what shape his painting is going to take later.
With the first stroke itself, his hands used to create a strange kind of alacrity, indefinite movement and fleetness. It seemed as if he is not painting but with his attack of creativity, he is conquering the canvas. In addition to using many colours, he used to change his brushes so swiftly that viewing him paint was no less than a creative experience.
We have seen Husain several times passing through the act of painting. Alas-! The hands of this magnificent painter have now become insensitive and motionless. When we got the news of Hussain’s demise, we were in Delhi and it is a coincidence that ten minutes later we were passing through the India Gate area.
We saw the building whose gigantic mural, Husain had made many years ago. We stopped the car immediately and stood in front of it and bowed down as a mark of respect to pay a tribute our beloved artist.
In the long creative journey of his life, we don’t know, how many innumerable models of his art he might have left in various countries of the world. Alas! The hands that had created these unique models of art have now been buried under the soil in London thousands of miles away from his motherland but the charismatic stimulus and movement of his hands which have left masterpieces on land will make us remember the magnificence of those hands for ever.
We cherish his memory! Those were the days of winter of 1969 when we first met Husain in Kwality Restaurant at Abid Road and we had taken his first interview. We had tried to highlight in addition to his humorous and tasteful moments of his life, his interesting events as well.
This interview was first published in Siasat and later in “Dharmayug” Hindi weekly of the Times of India group, Bombay. Husain had made his own sketch for the cover page of the issue in which his interview was published. Husain lived his life like an open book. He was always in the news. He was the news and also the creator of the news. There is no aspect of his life which remained concealed from his lovers.
We had forty year old relations with him and the memory of his hundreds of meeting is fresh in our mind. In 1972, as a token of grace, he had prepared a sketch for our book “Khissa Mukhtaser” (in short) it was a great honour for us. In his sketch, in order to depict the attribute of a humorous writer, he had sketched a human skeleton and had drawn sunflower in place of the face which keeps its face in the direction of brightness, cheerfulness and good taste. This is the only basic attribute and function of a humorous writer. In 1972 when we went to Delhi we had continuous meetings with him. In those days, he was staying with his son Shamshad Husain in his flat at Jungpura.
Shamshad himself is an authentic artist himself and we have very informal relations with him. There was a time, when M. F. Hussain used to wander on the roads of Delhi riding on his moped Luna.
He used to be seen in cyclerickshaws also in Nizamuddin area. He was fond of taking tea in one or two ordinary restaurants of Nizamuddin. Later, when he started moving on his motor car, he had painted his car like a painting. He had an emotional attachment with Hyderabad.
He was also the Son-in-law of Hyderabad. He used to respect a lot Mr. Sayeed Bin Mohammed, a renowned artiest of Hyderabad. Socialist leader and the famous businessman, Mr. Badri Vishal Pitti was one of his preliminary appreciators. He bought hundreds of his paintings. There used to be a Gopi Hotel, adjacent to Nizam club. He used to like Idli and Dosa of this restaurant. Many a time, he used to invite us to breakfast in this restaurant.
How may and what sort of events should we remember. He used to favour us with prints of his models of art. In 1976, he had given us a large painting writing my name and affixing his signature on it which we still preserve. In 1981, in Ghalib Academy of Delhi, the renowned artist and calligrapher of Paksitan Sadquain was busy in preparing permanent calligraphic captions for Siasat. Husain appeared suddenly and started helping Sadiquain in his work delightfully and engaged himself in decorating those captions. He was selfless, simple, humble to the core but a courageous and self respecting person.
The personality of a magnificent artist like Hussain can neither be compounds or bound in words nor it can be confined in colours. A month before his self-exile in 2006, we had a last meeting with him at India International Centre in Delhi.
His handshake used to very fervent and with warmth of affection with which he used to inject his love and affection into the veins and muscles of his visitors. The great devotion, with which the India media paid as rich tribute to him on his demise, has not been witnessed in respect of any other artist and wont he so in future.
Nearly 75 years ago Husain had started his journey of painting with the name Maqbool Sholapuri to paint film posters in Bombay, at last it ended in London as a great and the most important and authentic artist of international repute. Such a lowness and exaltation and the unique example we cannot see anywhere in the world.
No doubt, the threat to his life, ultimately ended or vanished but a thought occurs in our mind that couldn’t Govt of India have arranged to get the dead body of Husain in India so that it could have become part of the soil from which it had leavened.
Aay basa arzoo ke khak shuda
(there are so may wishes whish have turned into dust)
Husain, whether he is buried in London or in India it doesn’t make any difference because Husain will live for ever in the universal scenario of art where there is no threat to his art. There is not a single great museum where there isn’t any model of art by Hussain. This depicts the determination and will power of a great artist and his unstinted love for his art.
Husain, was, however a born universal artist.