By Noreen Haider

The News Sunday, 24-12-06

Born in a small village in Tehsil Chiniot, Professor Saeed Bhutta opened his eyes in a place where Punjabi classical poetry was recited with fervor, and the ambience was essentially sufi. He grew up listening to the legacy of his rich culture and tradition embedded in literature and folk of his land and found his true calling in the preservation of Punjabi folklore which was carried through generations of traditional storytellers but was mostly oral.

Kamal kahani, Saeed Bhutta's latest work is an amazing collection of stories from Punjab which were collected from Saandal Bar and Kidana Bar area of Punjab over a period of sixteen years.

His other works include Chan chanaa de,1990, 'Kuliaate shah Azeem, 1993, Saanjh Sur-Sanjh Vichaar, Nain na rehnde taknon compilation of folk songs of Jhang, and Na Jhang chutya na kan paate, Punjabi short stories.

Following are extracts from his interview:

The News on Sunday: How did you come up with the idea of Kamal kahani?

Saeed Bhutta: In 1993 my first Punjabi story was published in Ravi; the story was Raja Porus di kahani. It got tremendous applause from everyone. I did not expect such response and it was extremely encouraging. From that time onwards I have been researching and collecting stories from different marasees (traditional storyteller and escort of landlords, who also knows the genealogical family tree as well as all family records and recites them). I have transcribed the stories verbatim so that the beauty and authenticity of the story remains intact.

TNS: What is special about these stories?

SB: There are so many unique features in each of these stories, but one particular point is that a person who belongs to the land would be able to easily identify a character and what that character stands for as a symbol. For example there is the character of Gaman Sachiar and for the reader there is no difficulty in recognizing him as the symbol of truth. Same is the case with Porus who is the symbol of bravery. Actually Punjabi is in the subconscious of the people and unconsciously he is a Punjabi.

TNS: Tell us a little about your self...

SB: I am from a sufi background. Hazrat Hafiz Divan who got faiz (blessings) from Pakpattan (the revered shrine of Baba Farid Ganjshakar) was my forefather. He came to the village Peeple Bhutta, Tehsil Chiniot, District Jhang and settled there. We are modest zamindars (landlords). I grew up in my village Peeple Bhutta on the banks of River Chenab. I did my BA from Government College, Faisalabad and MA from Punjab University. I have done my Ph.D, and now teach Punjabi in Oriental College as an Associate Professor .

TNS: How did you start writing in Punjabi?

SB: My forefathers were highly educated and well versed in Arabic and Persian. Arabic and Persian were taught in our village mosque.

Our village had the tradition of Punjabi poetry recitals of Heer Waris Shah and Yousuf Zulekha of Molvi Abdus Sattar. There were huffaz of these two classic Punjabi literary pieces who recited the poetry every day. This is an ongoing tradition, the recitations continue. Other than that there is the tradition of 'jumerat' (gathering of disciples and progeny to pay homage to the mentor or saint every Thursday), at the shrine of our ancestor Hafiz Divan Sahib.

Punjabi classical poetry, madha, mankabat and qawali is always recited there. All the kalam is Punjabi. All this was an essential part of my upbringing. In class ten I started attending school in Jhang and Punjabi was taught there as a subject. I loved reading the same things which were part of my legacy and upbringing. My love for Punjabi literature kept growing. But the real teacher that I got after doing MA was Mohammad Asif Khan. He was a great linguist. He was my mentor in the truest sense.

TNS: Coming to your collection of oral history. How did you get inspiration for this rather novel work?

SB: When I was in college I had the chance of reading, The legends of RC Temple; this made me realise that there are many stories far more wonderful than these in our own village. I also read Banjara Bedi, a renowned folklorist and from him I learned the importance of correct methodology in collection of folk stories. Bedi writes in his books that he used to listen to folk tales from traditional storytellers and take notes but when he came back to his place to compile the story from the notes it always turned out to be his story rather than the original folklore. So he emphasised the importance of reproducing the story in the exact words of the storyteller in order for it to remain a folk tale. That determined the methodology and style for me.

When I started collection of folklore I incidentally met Mian Kamal Din. He was a mirasee from our adjoining village Kot Amir. He came to our village for the night and said that he would give me a special gift.That night he narrated the story of Raja Porus to me. That was a fabulous treat and I was hooked. Raja Porus di Kahani was the first story that I wrote. Mian Kamal was an old man at that time but he had an excellent memory. Next I got the story of Gaman Suchiar from him and then it went on.

For sixteen years now I have been collecting folk stories from different mirasees and the process is still ongoing. I have collected a large number of stories and many of them have been published in different journals also. Kamal Kahani is basically the collection of stories from Mian Kamal Din.

TNS: What are the pitfalls in the collection of oral history?

SB: You see the obvious one that is that the narrator is liable to forget. But particularly in Punjab, our Persian speaking rulers did not compile a history of this land and its people. At the most they wrote about the castles and forts that they built and the wars that they fought. They did not write about the land, the people, their way of life.

It is true that collection of oral history has its pitfalls but then this is true of all methods of recording history. Oral history is just as authentic as other forms of history, for example there were no alphabets at the time of Socrates but whatever he said is preserved through oral history. Same is true of the Ahadith of the Holy Prophet, that were initially preserved orally until recorded in writing.

TNS: Why is there celebration of the local hero in Punjabi literature although he is oppressor to his own people sometimes?

SB: There is celebration of the local hero because he resisted the invader. Punjabi culture and Punjabi literature has never been owned by the state. In Lahore Shah Hussain is the symbol of literature for the people but for the state it is Data Ganj Baksh or Allama Iqbal. Although Data sahib was a great scholar and saint, but he wrote in Persian and Allama Iqbal wrote in Urdu and Persian, so people of Punjab cannot relate to their poetry as they can to Shah Hussain.

Same is with the heroes of Punjab. Punjab hero was the symbol of tribal spirit.

Sixteenth century Pindi Bhatian is one example where we see Dullah Bhatti as a hero with true tribal spirit. Our hero in Punjab is celebrated in folklore. No state recognizes them, no establishment projects them, but the people have kept them alive. There is no hero of the caliber of Ahmed Khan Kharal but his name is never mentioned anywhere.

TNS: The stories told by the marasees, though in Punjabi are full of Persian symbolism of sufism...

SB: There is nothing odd in this. Persian has been the official language of the land for a thousand years, and there was a tremendous influence of sufis throughout Punjab. The language of marasees includes Persian symbolism. Before partition everyone in Punjab was associated with a murshad and it was considered a disgraceful not to have a pir or a murshad. The storytellers also had to have the idiom of sufism; Shah Hussain was a sufi of Qadri silsilaa, Baba Fareed belonged to the Chisti silsilaa, Waris Shah was also Chisti. The wisdom of Punjab is actually in sufism and sufi poetry.

But it is also important to remember that spiritual tradition already existed in the subcontinent before the advent of Muslim sufis; though the terminology and idiom was different. The Muslim sufis found this environment conducive and talked to the people in the idiom that they understood well and accepted naturally.

TNS: There seem to be places in your stories where the script is unable to convey the exact dialect. Do you think that it is a problem for you at times?

SB: No script of any language is perfect; the way a language is spoken cannot be reproduced exactly in its script. It is not possible to have perfect harmony in language and script. Also the dialect changes from village to village in Punjab.

TNS: What do you think is your most important contribution in this literary journey?

SB: The collection of oral history is my passion, my calling, and my ongoing mission but I consider my role as a teacher the most important work of my life.