A few days back, I met one of my friends over a cup of tea.
As usual, our conversation began with books and ended with writers who explore Sufism in contemporary times.
Without any shadow of doubt, I have always found my friend to be a voracious reader—one who has immersed himself deeply in the works of mystics, both among Orientalists and Occidental scholars.
I urged him to write something thoughtful on subject of Sufism.
However, he gently refused, offering a most striking argument that eventually became the source of inspiration for me to write it.
He said “a person is known by their specific field and area of specialization; it is through this identity that recognition and sincere appreciation are earned.”
I came to realize that throughout human history, the most successful were those who carved their place by dedicating themselves relentlessly to a particular domain of interest, that is how they became not only successful in their lifetimes but immortalized through their contributions.
Regrettably, in our present era, we seem to be witnessing a growing intellectual crisis.
A culture has emerged that prioritizes fame over depth and appearance over substance.
It is disheartening to see how many individuals seek recognition through shortcuts, dabbling in multiple fields without acquiring true mastery in any.
Their work often lacks seriousness, sincerity, and commitment, and as a result, they fail to gain the respect and recognition that genuine expertise commands.
How absurd would it appear if an English graduate conducted research on plants?
How misplaced would it be for an Urdu literature graduate to venture into artificial intelligence?
Let us imagine, hypothetically, if someone had constrained Rumi to compose conventional romantic poetry that merely chased physical beauty and worldly love.
Would he have left the indelible mark he has on world literature?
Certainly not.
Rumi’s enduring influence, which echoes even today in the Western world, lies not in religious conformity but in the eternal and universal thoughts he expressed.
Many of those producing modern literature or academic work are overly concerned with the market and popularity.
Their focus lies in trend-chasing, aiming to satisfy the current demand rather than contributing something timeless.
In doing so, they may achieve short-term attention, but their work lacks the power to leave a lasting impression on intellectual history.
Similarly, I have observed a growing number of so-called researchers appearing on prestigious stages, receiving accolades and recognition—often not through genuine scholarship but due to nepotism or political favouritism.
Their credentials are often exaggerated, and their contributions inflated.
They may shine for a brief period, yet the youth of today can discern the difference between real scholarship and borrowed brilliance; they know the difference between a celebrated name and a deserving one.
One can only hope that this age of mediocrity, driven by a thirst for fame without foundation, will eventually give way to a time where depth is once again honoured.
So, concluding it with the most striking lines of Harris Khalique, who rightly claimed “we live in an era devoid of depth and character.
But nothing is permanent.
I hope this era ends.”
—The writer is a contributing columnist based in Hyderabad.