A part of Gabriel's poetical work in Urdu has been published, by the Name of Naara-e-Gabriel that means the dire yell of Gabriel. And the dire yell indeed it is. It is a sonorous thunder, it is a warning trumpet. It is an advice. It is a message that touches the heart and smites the inner conscience. It is a war cry against the dire consequences of the immoral, ungodly, materialistic and devastating culture of this present world. It is an exhortation to the Islamic Ummah to stand up to the occasion, and save this world and themselves from the consequent hazards by affecting a reform. It is a prayer for a religious, peaceful and prosperous future of mankind.
The work from the beginning to the end is well rendered, sublime, and effective. Form, number, weight, measure, rhyme, rhythm is perfect and evinces a masterly touch. The verse moves with ease and elegance. The diction throughout is sonorous and exhibits utmost purity and simplicity. The sincerity of the purpose is the conspicuous characteristics. It is the voice of a sincere heart. Therein is power as well as pathos. Seldom in any poetical work could exhortation with such brevity and vehemence and simplicity be seen? Indeed the work is a wonderful and splendid proof of poetical genius and considered in itself it may be classed among the noblest productions of human mind.
When I read the work, two thoughts never left me. First was how a man without prior training and exercise could compose so technically perfect poetry. Second thought was about the perplexing resemblance this work bore to the work of great Iqbal, both as regards basic thought and style of expression. This identity between the work of Iqbal and Gabriel was given out by Dr. Javed Iqbal, the son of Allama Iqbal in his review that is included in this work of Gabriel, as the echo of Iqbal and identical in thought. The fact that Iqbal is a poet immutable while his standard and status is unapproachable. And also that no attempt at parody has ever approached even to an appreciable point of resemblance, not to speak of perfect identity with the original due to the different intellectual levels of the original and the imitator. Here was a cast in which all the previous assumptions were shattered. I, therefore, decided to meet Allama Yousuf Gabriel for information. Following is the gist of what Gabriel said:-
"Allamah Iqbal died in 1938. It was a coincidence that on the day the Allamah sahib died in Lahore, I was in Sialkot, Allamah Sahib's birth place. At that time I was totally ignorant of my future destiny. In 1942 in my 25th year I was assigned my mission in Mussayyib in Iraq, a mission in succession to that of Iqbal. It was to save God's creation from the two-fold devastation of atomic hell. By two--fold is meant the atomic devastation in this present transient world as well as in the next eternal world. In 1945 the appearance of atomic bomb afforded a proof and ushered in a new era. My address was in English and to the entire human community. And address originating from the Quran, corroborated by science. Obviously the Islamic Ummah would be expected to play a prominent part in such a movement as their religious duty. But unfortunately the Islamic Ummah was not in a position to play any part therein. The anxiety of Allamah Iqbal for Islamic Ummah is not unknown. My mind too, despite my obscurity might have been in a state of distress about their plight, yet I was miserable and insignificance, in the Commonwealth of Nations, pre-occupied with my work that was entailed by my mission. My poetical work therefore has to be viewed in that light as a warning trumpet to awaken the Islamic Ummah to their duty in the atheistic and atomic calamity of the world.
It was one winter night in 1962, my 45th year that I was laboring to get some sleep after the day long routine academic mental torture. But the sleep would not come. I lay in my bed in a supine posture, face up, and wide aware, that I perceived a human figures, like a picture a few feet high and a little to the right over my head. That was a mental vision. I did not turn my head to see with my eyes. He was man of brilliant yellow color and had the features of a Kashmiri. Suddenly I felt a stir in my mind and lines of Urdu poetry began to appear therein. These were six in number on the pattern of Iqbal's famous poem "Shikwa". Then there was profuse perspiration and I was lost in Sleep. Next morning I noted down the lines. The first line read:-
The spirit of Iqbal I am,
Have come in the guise of Gabriel.
Thereafter, while lying in bed after the day long routine study, or when walking or travelling in the bus I composed poetry to the year 1969, till about 2000 verses were accumulated. A curious circumstance is worth mentioning. Namely, that whenever I was engaged in composing poetry, I often sensed the presence of Allamah Iqbal a few feet behind me, dressed in white Muslim apparel, and floating in air a few inches above the ground, and waving his hands before him continually right hand and left hand as if weaving the cloth and tossing the invisible shuttle to left and to right and continually went into the motion with his hands like a weaver tossing the shuttle left and right while weaving the cloth. His presence meant a peculiar kind of awe to me. I have since my knowledge of always felt an inmate affinity existing between his mind and mine. He was a peerless master in his field and was a great and good master. And although I might have had poetical genius, yet the credit of my poetical work justly goes to him. Another circumstance which deserved mention is that Allamah Iqbal's verse
"I will keep it, to be sung, in my throat is a Gabriel-stirring song, which I will studiously keep for the La-Makkan (that is where I go after death)".
This particular verse was not present in my mind when I began the poetical work, nor even occurred to me during the entire course of writing my poetry. It is now, that its portentous significance dawned upon me. Strange are the works of Scheming providence. Hali's dirge; Iqbal's protest (Shikwa) Complaint; Gabriel's Naara (Yell). If you please you can say Gabriel stirred by the song of Iqbal blew a trumpet to awaken the dead out of his grave.