Will Durant was right when he said that huge empires shiver before the spectre of the pen of great philosophers of their times. Karl Marx’s works still carry the potential to jolt the mighty empire of capitalism. France had seen the dawn of revolution through the light disseminated by the subtle but soul-piercing writings of Voltaire and Rousseau. Shakespeare’s plays and poetry left more lasting imprints on English history than the working of the British Empire that stretched across half of the globe at its heyday. Despite being heirs to the Ottoman Empire, Turks still boast of their countryman Rumi because of his everlasting poetry. Rabindranath Tagore has become synonymous with the Bangla language. Despite being the harbinger of communism, Russia still takes pride in being the birth place of Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky. Georg Wilhelm Hegel and Friedrich Nietzsche, through their intellectual and literary accomplishments, made their country rise and shine. People can forget Darius’ huge empire but Omer Khayyam’s quadruplets still dance on the lips of Persians and non-Persians alike. Today Greece is bankrupt but the place is still revered across the world because of the legacy left behind by Socrates and Aristotle. Homer, by virtue of his immortal poetry, is still leading the literary souls of the world. Compared to these examples from across the globe, ours remains a misfortunate country where pen, intellect, poetry, literature and art hardly get the recognition due to them. Take the case of late revolutionary poet Ahmed Faraz, known for his pro-democracy activism. He was born in a Pashtun family but grew up to rule Urdu literary circle through his verse. His infinite imagination gave furtherance to the legacy bequeathed by Ghalib. The literary attire Faraz bestowed upon his intuition in ghazals and poems brought Urdu poetry at a par with English poetry rendered by Byron, Wordsworth and Keats. But more than the craft, his revolutionary verse of resistance inspired, and continues to inspire, generations yearning for change. Led by his verse and courage, he refused to bow before the storms of authoritarianism till he breathed his last. He was not a romantic poet who would rely solely on his craft. His approach to poetry was more like Pablo Neruda’s. I still remember how the state treated this great poetic soul during the last days of his life. Humiliation at the hands of a military dictator led the great soul to return to the state all the medals and honorific titles given to him. I also remember how fervently the cash-driven media flashed on television screens disgusting scenes of the time when state authorities expelled Faraz from his official residence. And the same media were utterly silent at the recent incident of burglary at the late poet’s Islamabad home now under the use of his son, Senator Shibli Faraz. Media tycoons might have ignored the press conference called by the Senator to narrate the condemnable incident of dacoity thinking that it would not bring ratings, and revenue, to their channels. At the press conference, Shibli decried and mourned over the loss of invaluable manuscripts of Faraz in the burglary. Shibli’s grief and sorrow is understandable. These manuscripts were the only asset Faraz had left behind. Faraz was not a bureaucrat, a judge, or a general, who had been a recipient of millions of dollars by Arab Shaikhs or allotted plots in prime real estate. He was a poet. His only fiefdom was a few poetic verses. Perhaps, Shibli’s mourning and wailing went unnoticed and failed to stir hysteria on the ever-screaming TV screens because the dacoity had not been committed on the colossal fiefdom of Jahangir Tareen; aristocratic palaces of Jati Umra, Raiwand, or Mediterranean-style villa stretched over hundreds of kanals in the Bani Gala suburbs of Islamabad. What else can explain the intellectual and moral bankruptcy of society than the fact that Asif Kirmani’s reported rendezvous with Nina Akbar in a posh guest house of Islamabad created more hue and cry on social and mainstream media than the sorrowful wailing of a great poet’s son? What a pity and shame that the interior minister whose job is to look after the country’s security remains occupied with his politics and has not even ensured a safe and secure environment in the federal capital. The fact that mood swings and mysterious backache of the shifty interior minister got flashed across TV screens but Shibli’s cries about the lost verses of Faraz did not speak volumes about the moral decay of the society. The coverage of Shibli’s pleas died down in the din of Panama Papers and demands of money trial from the ‘Caesar’ of Islamabad’s Red Zone and ‘Brutus’ of Bani Gala. Ridiculous tweets by the ‘crown princess’ generate red flashing breaking news on mainstream media but the news of a break-in at the house of Faraz does not cause a whimper. Perhaps, Shibli can be cajoled by media pundits telling him that at the moment the nation is beholden to the drama staged in the judicial theatre for recovery of the billions stolen from the national kitty by its ‘custodians’. Living through such a time, we may do well to recall Saghar’s verse: Jis Ehad Mein Lutt Jaye Faqeeron Ki Kamai Us Ehad Ke Sultan Say Kuchh Bhool Hoee Hay Amara Shah is a blogger based in Islamabad and tweets as @shahamara_