THE POET

Mohammad Sultanul Haq (Shaheedi) was one of our unsung literary luminaries: A poet and prolific translator. Born around 1933 in one of the old quarters of Srinagar, he passed away in December 2023 at the age of ninety. I would often see him at literary gatherings, but I never had the opportunity to speak with him. Then, one day, he called and invited me to his residence in Lal Bazar. It was in 2021 that I finally visited him. Our meeting began with his lament that he had never received the recognition he deserved as a writer and translator. He gave me a bouquet of his publications, including poetic translations and original collections. Among the books he gifted me were:

1. ‘Noorun 'Ala Noor’ (‘Radiance upon Radiance’), an Urdu versified translation of Sheikh-ul-Alam's shruks.

2. Payam-i-Mashriq, a Kashmiri versified translation of Iqbal's ‘Message from the East’.

3. ‘Lala-e-Toor’ (‘The Tulip of Sinai’), an Urdu versified translation of Iqbal's quatrains.

4. ‘Mussaddas: Mad-o-Jazr-i-Islam’, a Kashmiri versified translation of Khwaja Altaf Hussain Hali's ‘Mussaddas’.

5. ‘Kuliyat-i-Aziz Bahrari’, a collection of Aziz Bahrari’s poetry.

6. ‘Taisha-e-Gul’ (‘The Flower's Chisel’), Shaheedi's own Urdu poetry collection.

7. ‘Kuliyat-e-Mahjoor’, an Urdu rendering of selected poems by Mahjoor. 

He requested me to write an article on his literary contributions, which I did. Published in ‘Greater Kashmir’ on 22 December 2021 under the title ‘A Prolific but Unsung Writer,’ it was my tribute to a man whose work had long remained overlooked. A couple of days after its publication, Shaheedi called to thank me. That was our last conversation. 

Shaheedi had spent much of his life in Charar-e-Sharief, at the shrine of Sheikh Nooruddin Noorani, revered throughout Kashmir as Alamdar-e-Kashmir. In person, I found him to possess all the qualities of a typical Reshi—gentle, humble, and deeply spiritual. Yet, when I later read his Urdu ghazals, I discovered another dimension of his personality: a poet who had keenly understood how religion was often exploited for petty worldly gains in Kashmir, a theme to which I shall return later. He retired as a teacher from the Education Department, but retirement merely gave him more time for his two lifelong passions—literary translation and his ancestral craft of papier-mâché. He told me that his father had instilled in him a profound love for Sheikh-ul-Alam's ‘shruks’: ‘‘Mera mission tha ki Hazrat Sheikh ka Kashmiri kalam Urdu duniya ko pesh karke unki khushnoodi haasil karoon.’’ (‘My mission was to introduce the Sheikh’s Kashmiri poetry to the Urdu-speaking world and thereby earn his blessings.’) I could not resist asking him a question: “How would the Sheikh know that you had translated his poetry?” Shaheedi smiled but had no answer. Shaheedi has translated the works of some major literary figures such as Iqbal, Hali, Rumi, and Sheikh-ul-Alam into verse. The importance of rendering Rumi into Urdu is self-evident, since Persian is no longer widely understood. I am less persuaded, however, by the need to translate Iqbal into Kashmiri, particularly when relatively few readers today can read Kashmiri in the Nastaliq script. Moreover, Sheikh-ul-Alam’s ‘shruks’ have already been translated into Urdu by several scholars, though not always in verse. Among them are Ghulam Nabi Gowhar, Afaaqi, and Professor Shaad. Shaheedi’s translations are intentionally free from rigid rhyme schemes. To my mind, they often read more like rhythmic prose than poetry, although at places he does strive to preserve poetic cadence and rhyme.

In the preface to ‘Taisha-e-Gul’ (also spelled ‘Teesha-e-Gul’), Shaheedi writes: “I am among those fortunate people who became connected with many branches of knowledge through the medium of Urdu. Whether political science, economics, sociology, history, or the literature of the world's many languages, the late Syed Haider Abbas Rizvi translated them into Urdu and made this vast treasury of knowledge accessible to us. . . In 1959. . . I moved to Lahore, where I was warmly received by literary circles. My father encouraged me to participate in literary gatherings, and from there grew my inclination towards literature, teaching, and research. . .Professor Syed Shah Sadr-ud-Din Bani Qadri kindly gave me the opportunity to pursue higher education. Under his guidance, I completed my Master’s degree in Urdu and later earned an M.Phil. Whatever success I have achieved owes, in one way or another, to his guidance and mentorship.” 

As a poet, Shaheedi is remarkably versatile. He is at once classical, romantic, modern, and postmodern. His poetry reveals an acute awareness of both his age and his vocation. He declares:

vaqt ki nabz par hai apna haath

vaqt ke tarjuman hain yeh ash’ar

My hand rests upon the pulse of time

These verses give voice to the spirit of the age

Elsewhere, he writes:

‘asr-i-haazir hai canvas apna

aur ash'ar chitrakari hai

The age we inhabit is my canvas

And every poem is a painted work of art

Shaheedi also understood that poetry had few patrons in the contemporary world. He mourned this decline with quiet resignation:

ahl-e-chaman ki maang kya hai kuch khabar nahi

yeh baat aam hai ki koi deedavar nahi

No one seems to know what the people of the garden truly seek

Only one thing is certain—there is no discerning eye left to recognise true worth

Yet he never allowed public indifference to weaken his resolve. His faith lay in committed work rather than public applause:

jo ‘azm-e-safar hain nizam-e-‘amal ke saath

unko kabhi bhi fikr-i-shikast-o-zafar nahi

Those who undertake life’s journey with steadfast purpose and disciplined action

Know neither the fear of defeat nor the intoxication of victory

Taisha-e-Gul /Teesha-e-Gul (The Flower’s Chisel)

I have chosen a few poems from Shaheedi’s Urdu anthology, entitled Taisha-e-Gul (The Flower’s Chisel), a self-published collection of 151 Urdu ghazals that also includes a hymn and a naat. The following is the first poem in the collection:

ab woh hum se mila nahin karte

hum bhi un se gila nahin karte

gham-gusari baja hai lekin dost

zakhm-e-dil ke sila nahin karte

kab se khamosh hai rabab-e-hayat

tar-e-dil ke hila nahin karte

chand ghunche the arzooon ke

jo abhi tak khila nahin karte

garche mohsin na mohtaram hain ab

hum shaheedi gila nahin karte

They no longer come to meet with me,

Nor do I voice my grievance to them.

To share another’s grief is alright, but my friend,

Yet the heart’s wounds are never stitched.

Long has the harp of life lain still in silence.

The strings of the heart are stirred no more.

There were a few buds born of cherished hopes,

Those even now refuse to bloom.

Although we’re no longer honoured and respected,

I* Shaheedi utter no words of reproach.

*in the original poem, the poet has used the royal hum (we). 

SUMMARY:

The poem revolves around the estrangement that Shaheedi felt, perhaps, throughout his life. He didn’t get his due recognition in his lifetime, about which he complained to me during our short meeting at his residence. The opening couplet begins with ‘They no longer come to meet with me,’ but no confrontation or complaint is made. As Shaheedi told me, he would spend most of his time in his home doing his ancestral job, papier-mache. He suffered from some unhealed emotional wounds and felt a vacuum in his life— ‘rabab-e-hayat’ (Life’s harp)—no joy and no inspiration— ‘The strings of heart are stirred no more’.  He had many dreams—‘buds of desires’—that remained unfulfilled, but he doesn’t complain. Although he isn’t getting his due recognition, he refuses to complain or portray himself as a victim—’Although we’re no longer honoured and respected,/I Shaheedi utter no words of reproach.’

Overall, it is a ghazal of love lost, unfulfilled longing, inner silence, and graceful acceptance, where the speaker chooses dignity over bitterness.

CRITICAL REVIEW:

This ghazal is a beautiful and moving poem about living apart from friends (or relatives), the pain of silent suffering, and the quiet strength of love that is never fully spoken. Instead of shouting about heartbreak or using dramatic words, the poet speaks in a calm, simple voice. The gentle style gives the emotions greater depth and authenticity.

The first couplet (two-line verse) sets the tone right away: ‘Now they no longer come to meet me, nor do I complain of them.’ There is a distance between the speaker and his acquaintances now. They don’t visit each other anymore, and the speaker doesn’t even complain. This quiet acceptance shows a mature understanding that sometimes relationships fade, and words are no longer needed — or even possible.

In the second couplet, the poet shares a deep truth about emotional pain. While sympathy and kind words from others are nice, they can’t truly heal a broken heart. Some sorrows have to be carried inside, alone. This idea is at the heart of the poem: not all wounds can be fixed by comfort from outside. According to Ghalib: 

yeh kahan ki dosti hai ke bane hain dost naseh

koi chara-saz hota koi gham-gusar hota

What strange friendship is this—that friends have become my moral guides;

Had but one been a balm for my wounds, another a soul to share my grief.

One of the most powerful images in the ghazal is the rabab-e-hayat (the harp of life). The poet says this harp has fallen silent. This symbolizes how joy, hope, and creativity have disappeared from the speaker’s life. Similarly, the ‘buds of desires’ that never bloom represent dreams and wishes that never came true. The poem gently reminds us that life’s biggest sadness often comes not just from what we lose, but from what we never get to experience.

By the final couplet, we see the speaker’s inner strength and dignity. Even though love and respect have faded, the poet refuses to feel sorry for himself or blame the other person. This calm silence turns personal pain into something noble. The poem stops being just a sad complaint — it becomes a quiet lesson in emotional maturity.

The poet follows the classic style of Urdu ghazals: the language is graceful, simple, and musical. The repeating refrain gives the poem a song-like rhythm. The images used — a wounded heart, a silent harp, and unbloomed buds — are familiar but still feel fresh and meaningful. They help readers connect with the emotions easily.

In short, this ghazal is a moving reflection on love, separation, and acceptance. It shows us that the deepest pain is often carried in silence, and that staying dignified even when love ends is a sign of true strength. It is a poem that stays with you because it feels honest and heartfelt.

In the following poem, the poet talks about a life of struggle and commitment. He doesn’t believe in living an isolated life or taking refuge in some haven. He says: 

maujon ki kashakash mein pal kar sahil ki tamanna kaun kare.

ae jahd-o-amal ke matwalo! duniya se kinara kaun kare.

khum jin ke liye kam hote hon, ek jaam se unko kya matlab.

ab tu hi bata de ae hamdam, qatron pe guzara kaun kare.

hain dast-o-gareban ahl-e-chaman, har ek rawish sozan sozan.

paband-e-salasil hai maali, dildoz nazara kaun kare.

yeh baat shaheedi ne keh kar li rah-e-mohabbat ki barh kar.

marna hi jo thehra zaad-e-safar, jeene ki tamanna kaun kare.

Nurtured in the ceaseless strife of waves,

Who would still yearn for the comfort of the shore?

O lovers of struggle and relentless toil,

Who would choose to withdraw from the world anymore?

For those whose goblets overflow with wine,

What worth has but a solitary cup?

Tell me, my friend, who could live on mere droplets?

The dwellers of the garden stand at one another’s throats;

Every walkway burns, engulfed in searing flame.

The gardener himself lies bound in heavy chains—

Who is left to look upon this heart-wrenching sight?

Having said this, Shahidi stepped forward and took the path of love

Since death alone is the provision for this journey,

Who would still cherish the desire to live?

SUMMARY:

The poem at once celebrates strife, sacrifice and unwavered commitment. The narrator doesn’t like comfort, complacency, and compromise. He says that those who have accepted the challenges of life cannot retreat into safety or isolation. 

The opening line establishes the central idea of the poem: a person who has grown up through hardship no longer longs for ease. 

The poem then contrasts abundance with insufficiency, suggesting that those who aspire to great ideals cannot be satisfied with trivial gains—‘qatron’ and ‘solitary cups’. 

The poem moves further and widens its canvas from the individual to society. The ‘garden’ symbolizes the nation, civilization, or the moral order. Its inhabitants are divided and in conflict, while the gardener—the one responsible for preserving harmony—is himself imprisoned. This presents a powerful image of a society in which both the people and their leadership are powerless.  

Somebody has said: ‘Powerlessness is truly humbling, but too much of it leads to depression.’ Shaheedi says that the garden dwellers are at daggers drawn with one another, and the gardener is himself a prisoner. This sight is heart-wrenching, which he doesn’t want to see. 

The emotional climax of Shaheedi’s poem comes when he presents martyrdom as the inevitable end of those who choose the path of love—not just the romantic love, but love for truth, justice, faith, or homeland. When death becomes the provision for the journey (‘zaad-e-safar’), attachment to worldly life is automatically lost: 

Since death alone is the provision for this journey,

Who would still cherish the desire to live?

CRITICAL REVIEW:

The poem is a compelling example of modern Urdu poetry that fuses romantic symbolism with political and philosophical idealism. It transforms familiar metaphors—the sea, the shore, the goblet, the garden, and martyrdom—into vehicles for expressing resistance against injustice and unwavering dedication to a higher cause. Rather than advocating passive resignation, it glorifies active engagement with life’s conflicts and portrays struggle as the defining condition of meaningful existence. According to Jigar Muradabadi: 

jo toofanon main palte jarahe hain

vohi dunya badalte jarahe hain. 

Those who are raised in the heart of storms,

Are the very ones who reshape the world.

William Shakespeare praises the brave in these words in Julius Caesar (2,2): “Cowards die many times before their death; the valiant never taste of death but one.”

The opening couplet in Shaheed’s ghazal immediately establishes the poem’s governing metaphor. The image of one ‘nurtured in the conflict of waves’ suggests that adversity is not merely an external circumstance but a formative experience. The contrast between the turbulent sea and the tranquil shore symbolizes the opposition between commitment and complacency. The rhetorical question, ‘Who would long for the shore?’ implies that genuine seekers of purpose find fulfilment not in safety but in perpetual striving. The direct address to the ‘lovers of struggle and action’ reinforces the poem’s exhortative tone, inviting readers to reject withdrawal from public life. Ahmad Faraz has said: 

kisi ko gar se niklate hi mil gayi manzil

koyi hamari tarah umr bhar safar main raha

Someone found the destination as soon as he left home.

Someone like me remained on a lifelong journey. 

The poem employs the classical imagery of the wine cup (khum, jam, and qatra) inherited from Persian and Urdu poetic traditions. However, these symbols are detached from their conventional association with mystical intoxication and instead signify aspiration and abundance. Those destined for overflowing casks of wine cannot be content with isolated drops. The imagery becomes a metaphor for lofty ideals that cannot be satisfied by partial achievements or superficial concessions. The stanza thus criticizes mediocrity and celebrates intellectual and moral ambition.

The garden imagery introduces the poem’s strongest socio-political dimension. In Urdu poetry, the garden traditionally symbolizes an ordered and harmonious world. Here, however, it has become a place of conflict where its inhabitants are metaphorically ‘at each other’s collars,’ while every path burns with suffering. The imprisonment of the gardener—the custodian of order—creates a poignant paradox: the very figure entrusted with protecting the garden has become powerless. This inversion suggests systemic collapse and the failure of institutions to preserve justice and unity. Somebody has written: 

Full moon is falling through the sky.

Cranes fly through clouds.

Wolves howl. I cannot find rest

Because I am powerless

To amend a broken world.

‘Gardener’ as a symbol has been extensively used in Kashmiri poetry. For instance, Mahjoor, also known as shayir-e-kashmir, has used ‘gardener’ as a symbol in a famed poem beginning with ‘volo ha baghvano’ (Come, O gardener). He says: 

Come, O gardener, bring forth again the glory of the newborn spring,

Let the flowers bloom, the nightingales dance—

Recreate that same enchanted scene.

Rudyard Kipling (in ‘The Glory of the Garden’) says Adam was a gardener: 

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and god who made him sees

That half a proper gardener’s work is done upon his knees,

So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray

For the Glory of the Garden that it may not pass away!

The concluding lines elevate the poem from social criticism to philosophical affirmation. The declaration that ‘death is the provision for the journey’ invokes the classical motif of martyrdom while redefining it as the natural consequence of unwavering commitment. The rhetorical question about the desire to live does not celebrate death for its own sake; rather, it asserts that devotion to a transcendent ideal renders fear of death insignificant. The poem therefore presents martyrdom as the highest expression of fidelity to one’s convictions—shaheed ki jo maut hai voh qaum ki hayat hai (The martyr’s death is the nation’s life). 

Stylistically, the poem relies heavily on rhetorical questions, which serve not to solicit answers but to reinforce certainty. Each couplet advances an argument through interrogative form, creating a persuasive and declamatory rhythm. The symbolic vocabulary is deeply rooted in the Urdu literary tradition, yet its meanings are adapted to modern concerns such as collective responsibility, political resistance, and ethical courage. The progression from the sea, to the goblet, to the garden, and finally to martyrdom reflects an increasingly expansive vision that moves from individual experience to societal crisis and ultimately to universal ideals.

The poem’s greatest strength lies in its integration of lyrical beauty with ideological conviction. It avoids sentimentality by grounding its emotional appeal in vivid imagery and carefully sustained symbolism. While its language remains elevated and metaphorical, its message is unmistakably direct: meaningful life demands perseverance, sacrifice, and steadfast commitment to principles greater than personal comfort. As a result, the poem stands as a powerful expression of the revolutionary spirit in modern Urdu literature, affirming that struggle is not merely an obstacle to life but its noblest fulfilment.

The refrain ‘kaun kare’ reminds one of Moin Ahsan Jazbi’s (1912-2005) poem that was immortalized, first, by Shegal through a 1948 Dev Anand starer Ziddi, and, later on, by Habib Wali Muhammad. The song goes like this: 

marne ki duayein kyun maangun, jeene ki tamanna kaun kare

yeh duniya ho ya woh duniya, ab khwahish-e-duniya kaun kare

jab kashti saabit-o-saalim thi, saahil ki tamanna kis ko thi

ab aisi shikasta kashti par, saahil ki tamanna kaun kare

jo aag lagayi thi tum ne, us ko to bujhaya ashkon ne

jo ashkon ne bhadkaayi hai, us aag ko thanda kaun kare

duniya ne hamein chhoda jazbi, hum chhod na dein kyun duniya ko

duniya ko samajh kar baithe hain, ab duniya duniya kaun kare

Why should I beg for death, who now craves to live!

This world or the next—who still desires the world!

When the boat was whole and strong, nobody longed for the shore.

Now on this shattered wreck, who still dares to dream of the shore!

The fire you once lit, my tears have put it out,

But the blaze my tears have kindled—who can douse that flame!

The world has abandoned me, O Jazbi. Why then should I not abandon the world in turn?

I’ve understood this world and now sit apart. Who even calls it ‘world’ anymore!

I don’t know if Shaheedi had written his poem under the influence of Jazbi. However, the tone and the idea are the same in both poems. 

In the following poem, Shaheedi talks about his contemporary society, the complexities of life, and moral degradation that has crept in: 

dost hona na us se bezaar.

zindagani hai ek musalsal haar.

koyi majboor hai, koyi mukhtaar.

khwah saabit ho, khwah ho sayyaar.

kaar-e-ulfat nibhana hai dushwaar.

ji se jaata hai sabr aakhirkaar.

kya kya thani thi us se kehne ko.

mil gaye jab to reh gaye naachaar.

haq nahin hai kuch us ko nafrat ka.

kar saka hai na jo kisi se pyaar.

deen ho, falsafa ho, hikmat ho.

aaj kal sab ka chal gaya beopaar.

ahl-e-gulzaar kaash ho jaate.

khud-nigar, khud-shinaas aur khud-daar.

khaali baaton se kuch nahin hota.

daar sach bolne ka hai miyaar.

waqt ki nabz par hai apna haath.

waqt ke tarjumaan hain ye ash'aar.

O, friend, do not be estranged from it;

Life is a chain of endless defeats.

Some are bound by fate, some command their own course;

Whether a settler or a wanderer.

The covenant of love is hard to fulfill;

At last, even patience slips away from the soul.

How much I had resolved to say to the beloved—

Yet when we met, all words abandoned me.

None has the right to nurture hatred,

Who has never truly learned to love.

Religion, philosophy, wisdom alike—

In these times, all have become commodities for trade.

Would that the keepers of the garden became

Self-reflective, self-aware, and rich in self-respect.

Empty words can never bring about change;

The true measure is the courage to speak the truth.

Our hand rests upon the pulse of the age;

These verses are the voice through which Time speaks.

SUMMARY:

The poem is philosophical in tone. It talks about the complexities of human life, love, morality, and declining values in contemporary society. Instead of focusing exclusively on romantic love, it expands its scope to encompass social criticism and ethical reflection.

The opening couplets establish life as a continuous struggle (‘zindagani hai ek musalsal haar’), suggesting that defeat, disappointment, and hardship are inseparable from human life. The poet recognizes that people live under different circumstances—some are constrained (‘majboor’), while others possess freedom and authority (‘mukhtaar’). Shaheedi portrays love as a very difficult job. It demands patience that fatigues a person—kaar-e-ulfat nibhana hai dushwaar./ji se jaata hai sabr aakhirkaar. 

The narrator had planned to say many things to his beloved but became speechless upon meeting her— ‘How much I had resolved to say to the beloved—/Yet when we met, all words abandoned me’. There is a touching image that captures a universal emotional experience. 

The poem then shifts to moral philosophy, asserting that those who have never experienced love have no moral right to hate others. Building on this idea, the poet laments that religion, philosophy and wisdom have been reduced to commodities in an age where almost everything has become commercialized. 

In the final section of the poem, Shaheedi wishes people to become self-aware, self-knowing, and self-respecting rather than relying on empty rhetoric. The closing line confidently presents the poem itself as speaking for its age, suggesting that poetry can serve as the voice and conscience of its time—’waqt ke tarjuman hain yeh ash’aar’. 

CRITICAL REVIEW:

We have seen that this ghazal maintains a balance between personal feelings and a critique of society. It begins with a commentary on love, but gradually widens its canvas, encompassing ethical decline and the human condition. This gives the poem a considerable thematic richness. 

Shaheedi is very concise in his diction. Staying true to the ghazal tradition and style, each couplet presents a standalone philosophical idea while still contributing to the overall mood of the poem. For example:

haq nahin hai kuch us ko nafrat ka

kar saka hai na jo kisi se pyaar.

In these two lines—emotionally appealing and morally forceful—the poet powerfully argues that genuine love is a precondition for judging others. Bashir Badr, a leading Urdu poet, has said: 

na koi khushi na malal hai ke sabhi ka ek sa haal hai

tere sukh ke din bhi guzar gaye, meri gham ki raat bhi kat gayi.

There’s neither joy nor grief endures, for everybody’s fate is the same. 

Your days of gladness slipped away, and my long night of sorrow ended, too.

As a sharp observer of his surroundings, Shaheedi criticises the commercialisation of religion, philosophy and knowledge when he says: 

deen ho, falsafa ho, hikmat ho

aaj kal sab ka chal gaya beopaar

I am not sure if this observation was based on Shaheedi’s long stay at the mausoleum of Sheikh Nooruddin Reshi at Charar-e-Sharief. When I met him, he would not miss any chance of speaking about his long association with the saint’s shrine there. To me, he appeared as a typical follower of the saint, but then, this couplet made me think twice before taking any final decision about his leaning. 

Allama Iqbal also criticised those who sell religion for their petty gains. He has said: 

bech khate hain jo deen-o-daanish-o-haq

hai azaab-e-do-jahan us mard-e-haq

Those who sell their faith, wisdom, and the truth

Are doomed to the torments of both worlds.

Shaheedi doesn’t unnecessarily romanticise love, though he does mention it in the poem. Without calling it ‘love’ or ‘beloved’, he uses the pronoun ‘us’ in:

kya kya thani thi us se kehne ko

mil gaye jab to reh gaye naachaar.

He had planned to say many things to his beloved, but in the actual encounter, his words failed him. In literature, this is known as ‘the psychological realism’, an experience where the internal emotions overpower expressions. Its simplicity enhances its emotional authenticity. Rajinder Krishan has said: 

majboor bahut karta hai yeh dil to zubaan ko,

kuchh aisi hi haalat hai ke hum kuchh nahin kehte.

kehne ko bahut kuchh tha agar kehne pe aate,

duniya ki inayat hai ke hum kuchh nahin kehte.

This heart compels my tongue a thousand times to speak,

Yet such is my condition—I do not speak.

I had a world of words, had I but chosen to confess;

The world's peculiar kindness is that I answer with silence.

Shaheedi displays an enviable ethical vision when he proposes positive ideals so that his society changes for the better. He doesn’t only talk about the moral degradation of his society, but also presents remedies. He asks people to be khud-nigar, khud-shinaas and khud-daar. He is not a pessimist. 

The concluding couplet shows Shaheedi as a confident speaker who knew what he was talking about:

waqt ki nabz par hai apna haath

waqt ke tarjumaan hain ye ash'aar.

In one of his ghazals, he says: 

meri ghazal main kar lain tamasha-e-kainaat

ahl-e-nazar ke vaste rakha hai jam-e-jam

Let the world find its spectacle within my ghazal.

For the seeing eyes, there’s the goblet of Jamsheed. 

At another place, he says:

she’r hi sharhah dard-e-dil hai dost

she’r hi dard-e-dil ka ‘unvan hai

My friend, it is poetry that gives voice to the heart's grief;

It is poetry that bears the heartache as its eternal theme.

Shaheedi seemed to understand the temporal significance of art and took it as the most effective tool for addressing the issues that beset his society. Somebody has said, “Poetry and prose has[sic] always been about evoking the emotionalism of the times it was being written — it’s a love letter and historical documentation of the current times, or simply the writer’s impromptu monologue rather than an extemporaneous narrative. It’s fair to say that poetry is the epicenter of literature as it pioneers emotionalism and its expression.”

After addressing a range of social issues—alienation, commercialization, moral decline, and love—he concludes the ghazal with a fitting couplet that demonstrates that Shaheedi had a purpose in writing poetry. Was he didactic? I think he was. 

William Wordsworth had defined poetry “as the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings”, which to him were ‘recollected in tranquillity’. I don’t know if Shaheedi composed his poetry in this way, but it is certain that he watched the world before him as a keen observer and gave vent to his feelings without any fear. He felt the pulse of the times and believed that his poetry would last long as a testimony of his emotions and feelings towards his own society. 

Poetry as an expression of the inner feelings of a poet has been talked about by many Urdu poets. Below are given a few examples: 

1. shayri taza zamanon ki hai me’mar faraz

yeh bhi ik silsila-e-kun faykon hai yun hai—Ahmad Faraz

Faraz, poetry is the architect of the present age;

It, too, is but another chapter in the eternal decree—’Be,’ and it is.

2. apni to dastaan hai bas itni,

gham uthaye hain shayri ki hai—Habib Jalib

This alone is the tale I have to tell:

I carried the weight of grief and have written poetry.

3. tumhari shairi kya hai, bura bhala kya hai.

tum apne dil ki udasi ko gane lagte ho.—Jaun Eliya

What need is there to judge your verse as fair or flawed?

You merely sing the sorrow that dwells within your heart.

CONCLUSION:

Mohammad Sultanul Haq (Shaheedi) deserves to be remembered not merely as a poet but as a cultural bridge-builder who devoted his life to preserving and transmitting literary traditions across languages. His translations brought Sheikhul Aalam, Iqbal, Hali, and other literary giants within the reach of wider audiences, while his own poetry reflected a deep engagement with the moral, social, and emotional anxieties of his age. Whether writing of loneliness, unfulfilled aspirations, love, ethical decline, or steadfast commitment to truth, Shaheedi consistently transformed personal experience into reflections of universal significance. His poetry never loses sight of the individual heart, yet it continually expands to embrace society, history, and humanity. Although he often lamented the lack of recognition accorded to his work, he never abandoned his faith in poetry as a witness to its times and a vehicle for moral awakening. His conviction that poetry should keep its hand ‘upon the pulse of time’ is borne out by the very poems he wrote. If his life illustrates the quiet struggles of an overlooked literary figure, his writings ensure that his voice will continue to resonate long after his earthly journey has ended. Revisiting Shaheedi today is, therefore, not merely an act of remembrance but an act of literary justice.