Alzadeism: a new face of existentialism. An exclusive interview with Alzad, Interviewer Shah Jehan Ashrafi from Canada

 Alzadeism: a new face of existentialism.
An exclusive interview with Alzad

Interviewer Shah Jehan Ashrafi from Canada


From the  Alzadism -Eternal Existentialism Poetry movement: one poem a day (34)

    
       Playing the Piano in the Hospital

                        Alzad

                           1

A young girl plays the piano in the hospital;
She must be an angel, or a guard of Azrael, the angel of death.
Perhaps she lingers on the brink of death’s call,
Or has recovered from illness, filled with joy.
Perhaps her lover lies deep in dying throes,
Her melody a balm to soothe and protect.
An old woman, mummy-like, clutches her handkerchief,
Dreaming of youth blooming like flowers in the light.
Work, taxes, a car, and the burden of a home—
Is there relief for young Werther’s sorrow?
The music worsens the little girl’s toothache;
She quickly covers her small ears with her tiny hands.
Love, torment, and worry echo in the tune,
Carried far away upon the wind.

                           2

As the music rises to its soaring height,
A nurse with tousled hair comes into sight.
She calls my name without end, hollow and long;
“Welcome back,” she says with a fabricated smile.
The doctor drones on about his ailments,
“If there were no pharmaceutical companies and you had no medical insurance—
you would be completely cured,
you would live happily,
you would live to be a hundred,”
I say to comfort the doctor,
though I myself do not believe this certainty.

                          3

Stepping outside, I see—
Night casts its shadows deep along the corridor.
The doctor’s portrait has vanished from the wall.
In the young man’s place
lies a wandering old vagrant, as if born astray.
The long-waiting little girl has become an old woman,
dentures in hand — the dentures grin with a sincere yet eerie smile.

                            4

The piano stands in the corner, dark, shadowed, and aged,
as if eternal—
as though no one has ever played it.

                       2/28/2026


I’m a great fan of the Existentialism movement. I’ve always duped myself by believing that Existentialism was hope in disguise. When I read Alzad, I was not surprised to see existentialism again as our actual world is infested with wounds. I reviewed his poems as I could see both hopelessness and hope at work in his innovative poems. Firstly, I studied his poem ‘Playing the piano in the hospital’. I like the imagery of the hospital, the doctor and the piano, everything stands in the light of stark nihilism..

The music announces death, a sound of relief, yet it is done in the shadow of grief ‘an old woman’ to show the presence of decay and the passage of time. Thus, there’s youth and old age standing in each other’s face. As if these two binaries exist in a relationship and cannot stand without each other. They are two sides of the same coin. Everything seems absurd and futile just like the idea of a world with pharmacies and doctors cannot make people live longer. However, the piano remains a symbol of hope and happiness in the darkest moments at the hospital.

Alzad knows how to present the interplay between optimism and pessimism.

The poet portrays a hopeless world where things meant to bring solutions aren’t working anymore.  Yet, he brings melody to this world through the piano.

‘The young girl finally becomes an old woman’, throws light on the pessimism in existence. In the end, the piano becomes the symbol of unattainable joy as no one escapes the tale sorrow. Life is a story of death that looms ahead.

The piano is there, but we play it only to manifest absurdity just like the young girl , ‘a guard of Azrael, the angel of death’.


This poem is very timely as we are living another era of Existentialism. Wars, crime, rape and violation of human rights have all broken loose like Pandemonium anew! There’s chaos everywhere.

However, Alzad’s writing finds hope even in stark darkness as the musuc never stops in the hospital. This poem paints the need to stick to positivity in all circumstances by playing the piano anyways.



Alzadeism: a new face of existentialism.
An exclusive interview with Alzad

Interviewer Shah Jehan Ashrafi from Canada

Questions:

1. Tell us about yourself dear poet?

I am Alzad .Born in Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of China, I am a dermatologist with 25 years of clinical experience. I immigrated to the United States in late 2023 and currently live in America. In addition to dermatology education and clinical AI research, I write poetry, short stories, and novels in a modern and surrealist style. Standing from the perspective of Eastern philosophy, I explore human loneliness, spiritual crisis, and the coldness of modern civilization, while seeking solutions through the essence of Western philosophy.

2:what makes you write?

What drives me to write is the power of the Creator and the unparalleled beauty and spiritual wisdom in human beings. However, within the human soul, there exists a boundless void and a loneliness that cannot be expressed to anyone, as we fail to reach that greatness. Through poetry, I express my own “nobody-ness.” Only when I write do I feel that I am not alone.

3. Why did you choose the theme of existentialism?


I did not choose the theme of existentialism; rather, it chose me. Today we live in an era in which the clash of civilizations (which includes the West and the East, all religions, and all political forces) has reached its peak, the meaning of human essence has turned into nothingness, and due to the development of AI and the rise of artificial intelligence, every human being is questioning their own existence. Growing up in such an environment, I am an Eastern traveler who has come from the endless deserts of the inner continent of the Far East to the tranquil shores of the ocean, seeking the greatness bestowed by God upon human nature. My poems are the reflection of these very questions. Zeus, Nietzsche, and “Nobody” — these are the symbols of my inner feelings.

4. How is the void and nothingness positive in your writings? Can you explain this by relating it to some of your poems?

In my works, the void and nothingness are not merely darkness or degradation, but are seen as the greatest source of freedom and the creation of newness.
In my poem titled “Nobody,” through the sentence “I am Nobody,” I reach the ultimate limit of nothingness. Here, nothingness frees me from all social roles, names, and obligations. Only by becoming nobody can one begin to become the real “I.”
In my poem “Playing the Piano in the Hospital,” the little girl turning into an old woman, the disappearance of the doctor’s portrait, and the piano never being played — all of these are symbols of nothingness. However, it is only through this void that the value of music, memory, and human emotions becomes clearer.
In my poem titled “The Art of Dying,” taking the Western philosophical point of the poet Eliot that “Death is the art” as a starting point, I tried to truly express the void I seek, and to articulate liberation from the terrifying side of human nature and from the raw clash between cultures.
In poems such as “Under the Sunlight,” “The Secret of Souls,” and “The Legend of Living,” I believe this kind of exploration has reached a higher level.
In my works, nothingness is a form of spiritual purification and a new beginning. As you said, I believe that through the positive role of void and nothingness in my works, true spirituality begins.

5. How does your professional experience make you delve more and more in existential questions related to what’s happening in the world, for instance wars, political hunger for power, racism and immigration…how do you paint that in your poems?

       Born and raised in the world’s largest socialist country, as a dermatologist with 25 years of clinical experience and as a recent immigrant, I have closely witnessed the physical and psychological suffering of human beings — that is, the deep wounds caused by war, migration, racism, and the loss of identity.
These professional and life experiences have driven me to delve even deeper into existential questions related to wars, political hunger for power, racism, and migration in the world: What is the meaning of existence for a person who has lost everything?
In my poems, I depict these realities through symbols of void, disappearance, and transformation. In my works, I strive to clearly show how war, the hunger for power, and cultural clashes destroy the original human essence that is common to all humanity, and to explore solutions to heal it.

6. How do you explore spirituality in your Alzadism (our modern existentialism)?

    In Alzadism, spirituality is not traditional religious worship, but a profound existential search born from the void and the clash of civilizations. It is the journey of the human soul in the era after “God is dead” (Nietzsche) and after all traditional meanings have collapsed.
I explore spirituality from the perspective of the depth of Eastern philosophy and the humanistic greatness of the Western Renaissance (I refer to the 16th-century European literary and artistic Renaissance). In my works, spirituality becomes most evident precisely at the moment of true nothingness. Only after everything (identity, homeland, faith, and certainty) has been stripped away does the pure human soul begin to radiate light.
In all my works (poetry, short stories, and novels), spirituality is portrayed as rebirth through annihilation. Nothingness is not the end, but the sacred space where the soul is purified and prepared for a new spiritual renaissance. Alzadism aims to create a modern spiritual awakening by combining the contemplative silence of the East with the creative fire of the West.

7. Is your Alzadism any different from the period of post war existentialism Alzad

        Yes, Alzadism is significantly different from post-war existentialism, although it carries some of its spirit.
Post-war existentialism (Sartre, Camus, Kafka, etc.) was born from the trauma of World War II, the Holocaust, and the absurdity of a broken world. It emphasized absurdity, individual freedom, despair, and rebellion against meaninglessness.
Alzadism, however, is a 21st-century response. It is not only born from war and absurdity, but from the clash of civilizations, the digital revolution, AI, mass migration, identity loss, and the spiritual vacuum of globalization. While post-war existentialism often stopped at absurdity and rebellion, Alzadism goes further — it seeks a new spiritual renaissance. It combines the philosophical depth of the East with the creative humanistic fire of the European Renaissance (16th century), transforming nothingness into a sacred space for rebirth and purification.
In short, post-war existentialism was a literature of despair and resistance. Alzadism is a literature of despair transformed into hope, of annihilation turned into new creation.

8. How does your philosophy bring hope or pessimism to modern day literature?

Alzadism brings far more hope than suffering to contemporary literature.
It openly acknowledges the darkness of our era — spiritual emptiness, the clash of civilizations, wars, loss of identity, and the meaninglessness brought about by technology and globalization. However, unlike much of post-war existentialism, it does not stop at despair. Instead, it transforms that darkness into a source of renewal and creation.
In my philosophy, void and nothingness are not the final destination, but a necessary stage leading to purification and rebirth. Just as the European Renaissance emerged from the darkness of the Middle Ages, Alzadism seeks to create a new spiritual and artistic renaissance from the spiritual chaos of the 21st century — not belonging exclusively to the West or the East, but a philosophical movement common to all humanity.
My works acknowledge the tragedy of modern humanity, yet ultimately point toward the possibility of a higher human dignity, a new spiritual awakening, and the rediscovery of humanity through destruction and renewal. Therefore, Alzadism is a literature of hope born from the ashes of despair — a new philosophical realism for this turbulent age.

9. How are your short stories different from your poems?

   My short stories and my poems are two different expressions of the same inner world, yet they serve distinct artistic purposes.
My poems are the direct voice of the soul — concise, surrealist, symbolic, and philosophical. They capture moments of existential crisis, void, and spiritual search through powerful imagery, rhythm, and metaphor.
My short stories, on the other hand, are written in the Eastern style of “One Thousand and One Nights,” based on local culture, and are given special meaning through Western values and Freudian psychology (dreams and the darkness of human nature). They are more fable-like, character-centered, and closer to concrete human and psychological experiences. As a doctor and an immigrant, through my short stories I depict the psychological and social realities of human nature, fear, cultural transformation, and the loss of identity in a more detailed and realistic manner.
In conclusion, whether my poems or my short stories, they both serve to transform personal and collective human suffering into a new spiritual innovation within contemporary literature and art.

10. Why are your poems so different and are so prosaic???

     My poems are intentionally “different” and carry a prosaic quality because I am not trying to follow traditional poetic forms or aesthetic expectations. Instead, I am creating a new language for the 21st century — one that reflects the fragmentation, speed, and spiritual chaos of our time.
What some call “prosaic” is actually a deliberate choice: I blend the precision of prose with the intensity of poetry. This allows me to express complex existential layers — philosophical ideas, psychological depth, cultural clashes, and inner voids — without being restricted by classical rhyme or meter. My poems are not decorative; they are surgical. They cut straight into the soul.
This style is central to Alzadism. Just as the Renaissance broke old medieval forms to create something greater, I break conventional poetic boundaries to forge a new spiritual and artistic expression. The “prosaic” element brings clarity and narrative power, while the surreal and symbolic layers keep the mystical and philosophical resonance.
In short, my poems are different because our age is different. They are prosaic because the truth of our existence today cannot be fully captured by ornamented verses alone — it demands raw honesty, depth, and a new hybrid form.

11. Tell me more about your literary life in your country of origin

     My literary life began quite early in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of China, where I was born and raised. I started writing poetry seriously while studying at medical university. For many years, I wrote my works in Uyghur.
However, writing in China carried a special sense of responsibility and weight. The Uyghur language was both a shelter and a form of resistance for me. In my early poems, the main themes were language, religion, cultural transformation, spiritual search, and the tension between tradition and modernity. Due to the sensitivity of these themes, many of my works were circulated anonymously or under different pseudonyms in underground literary circles.
Alongside my work as a doctor, literature was never just a side activity for me — it was another life. The contrast between treating physical wounds in the clinic and “treating” spiritual wounds shaped my style. The merging of these two lives became the foundation of today’s Alzadism.
After immigrating to the United States at the end of 2023, one chapter of my literary life in Xinjiang came to an end, but it remains the foundation of everything I write today.