Of books and fathers

I picked up 'Aag ka darya' to read. I had bought this book from 'THOMAS & THOMAS' way back in 2005, as per the date scribbled by me at the time. However, I never quite brought myself around the idea of actually reading it. Now, I am trying to voraciously read through all the books that are placed on my shelf, while I can. I started with Hanif's much-applauded debut novel 'A case of exploding mangoes '. I followed it with Obama's memoir 'Dreams from my father' and a few days back I took up Qurratulain hyder's magnum opus "Aag ka Darya'. I knew that I was reading a classic since I had heard and read so much about it. I'll have to admit that the first part of the book was a little difficult for someone like me who was reading Urdu fiction after a very long time. And since the first few chapters deal with a period (around 4th century B.C) which  was dominated by Hinduism as well as Budhism, idiom of the era used in the book is not yet completely familiar to me. However, that is not the reason why I have put the book down. Yes, I have stopped reading it. This is so because I wanted to first read a few other things so as to be able to appreciate the book in its entirety. Two important streams run through the entire course of the book.One, historical and the other, civilizational. The book employs a transmigratory  technique to trace the historical processes which shaped the identity of our region. It also deals with the important 'whys' and 'hows' of the partition of India and the creation of Pakistan. Thus, in order to be able to appreciate the book even further, I need to first familiarize myself with the history of the region since the ancient times. Although I have read many history books, I don't seem to have retained much of it except for a very fine sketch. This,coupled with my father's constant exhortations to read history and eschew fiction, has led me to put the novel down and pick up once again Nehru's 'Glimpses' . I remember a few days back while I was driving to library with my dad alongside ( he accompanies me, at times, to bring the car back), he asked me once again to read history to which I replied that I had read it already in Nehru's 'Glimpses'. As I pulled up the car outside library, my dad advised me to read the books that Nehru had read to write his 'Glimpses'. Thinking how easier it was to say what to read than actually, and at times painstakingly, reading them, I immediately responded , 'I too will have to go jails to achieve this.'  Leaving my father behind laughing at my remark, I entered library. Perhaps with that one little remark, I have saved myself from having to read those big history tomes, at least for now. Nonetheless, history is important. And hence, I am making a brave attempt to once again pick up 'Glimpses' and I intend to follow it with Nehru's "Discovery" and Aitzaz's "Indus saga" and a few more before I go back to Quratulain hyder, lovingly called 'aanie aapaa'. Long wish list, I hope it materializes. Distractions, all of you, stay away!!....

DREAMS FROM MY FATHER- a review

so the book is finally over.It took me relatively longer time. This is so primarily because of my intermittent nature of study these days. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant experience. Both Obama's story and the manner in which he has narrated it are poignant. His reflections and revelations, ideas and convictions, observations and experiences make for an interesting study. Yet, it must be said, the book might not have been as captivating as it turned out to be, had it not been for the fact that the author is now the US president. This single fact provides the single most important relevance to the book. Hence, when one reads about his critique of runaway consumerism in New york and its slavish imitation in Djakarta and Nairobi, one can't help but wonder and be amused at the contradiction as now he ,himself, is at the helm of affairs in a country which is considered to be the epitome of free-market economy and its concomitant consumerism.His principled opposition to the aid-politics and dependency syndrome in the Thirld world  and  his not so thinly veiled contempt for the unholy alliance in which big companies from rich countries use pliant governments in poor countries to extract maximum economic benefits make one question, at least one's own self, how did this man manage to become the president of US. The stories of his vast travels which took him from Hawai to Indonesia, India, Kenya and even Karachi reassure the reader that finally White House has the occupant whose exposure is vast and varied and who knows better. Not only does Obama come across as a well-read man, his study is diverse too. It is not restricted to one version-the victor's version-alone. He knows about different perspectives.His understanding of colonialism, its effects and aftermath appears to be particularly keen. He knows exactly how the person in the thirld world country thinks and how he views the U.S. This is a far cry from the usual "white" presidency or the general U.S public, both of which show remarkable sense of ignorance about the "other" parts of the world. As for the personal story of Obama, being black in america and its many consequent personal insults and collective pain do not make him bitter. He abhors blind nationalism, crying conspiracy or playing victim. He takes up his share of responsibility and he works. True, he too had his moments of doubts and weaknesses.Still, he never gave himself up to any parochial prejudices. It was an act of walking on a tight rope which he found himself doing constantly.  Without being seen as someone who is co-opted and without being labelled as disloyal to his community, Obama wanted to believe in the inherent goodness of all human beings and not let his world get compartmentalized in the black and the white. Despite his foregoing belief in common humanity, Obama remained alive to the fact that he was black after all and can be seen constantly reminding himself about his responsibility towards the black community, be it via community organizing or Law.

The book also makes it abundantly clear that the man was not born with a silver spoon. Obama has experienced poverty first-hand. He has spent a night without a shelter in New york and on a cramped cot in Kenya. He has travelled in cramped vehicles and ,at times, while standing most of the way with his head stooped due to low roof bus.

Obama's language in the book is quite rhythmic for the most part. However, a few paragraphs leave much to be desired. The length of the book too could have been reduced by a quarter. At times it does give reader an impression of a drag. Nevertheless, the book manages to hold  interest of the reader till the very end. The highlights of the book are Obama's reflections, monologues, the big questions he asks himself and the last few lines of every chapter. The book can be adapted into a movie, since it is written with such a detail of all the sights and sounds and smells.

Overall, the book is a good read and if nothing else, it will at least help you get a better understanding of arguably the most important man in the world right now.  

Looking back....

I have been reading Obama's "Dreams from my father". It is an interesting book and is having a strange effect on me. I have only read a first few pages and am already thinking about my own past, my childhood, teenage, and adolescence which , in my case, spans over university and library life. I suddenly realise the importance of remembering the past and of recording it. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life and in our exuberance to keep pace with it and in our notion of 'living in the moment', we tend to undervalue our past, if not completely disregard it. We consider reminiscence a distraction at best and an utter waste of time at worst. However, past holds many things, some flattering and not so flattering, some bring smile and even laughter, others embarrassment, relief and lots of 'if'- 'would that'-'wish'

In my case, it is equally true. I spent first eighteen years of my life at Larkana and it seems as if it was long time ago. I never looked back. Every now and then, my conversations with my mother did wander off to the not-so-distant shores of Larkana but never quite enough. I got so unnecessarily busy and absorbed 'in the moment' that Larkana and its people, my childhood friends and neighbours rarely occurred to me, barring a few moments, a few phone calls, two fleeting visits and one glance at my school. This is so despite the fact that the time spent at Larkana was so fulfilling and enriching. Here in Karachi, the phase of university life which spanned over four years ended and I did not look back yet again. However, it is not all that unusual. Life after university, and outside university, is like this. It does not give you an opportunity to sit under a tree, catch some breath, look back and reminisce good old campus days. The jostling begins. The naivety of your youthful dreams, claims and aspirations begins to dawn on you. The limits to what you can actually achieve begin to become clearer. It is not that simple, after all. You are not that special , after all. You do pick up a few successes along the way but they do not come without your share of failures too, both personal and professional. This post-university phase of life saw me seated behind a carrel no. 25 at DCL, Karachi. Dickens says, " it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us." Such were the two years spent at Library and , although everything hinges on the result, it looks like the phase of library is coming to an end and so is my blog. In short, it is important, at times, to remember past, if not to learn lessons and to see what we could have done differently then to just savour the memories and to appreciate the years and the life we have spent and,more importantly, to come to terms with it....

Reading a book

I have been reading(and watching) about Obama these days. This man has something in him. His story is intriguing and interesting. Young(activist-intellectual) Obama is more fascinating than the stoic man that he becomes when he is in the white house. We do get to see the flashes of his exuberant youth days when he is on the campaign trail with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His detractors love to dig deep into his past to find something with which to reinforce their claims that Obama is not a "Pure American" (don't ask red Indians what it means), that he is actually on a socialist mission(citation: see his mentors as well as healthcare and tax agenda) and has a soft corner for Muslims(citation: middle name 'Husein' ,Cairo speech, cold relationship with Netanyahu ) and he is there to preside over the demise of American 'exceptionalism' (citation: he reads the book "The post American world by Fareed Zakaria" ). The absurdity of such claims is axiomatic. Leaving such ridiculous claims aside and also a more reasonable critique of his policies at home and abroad which have been a disappointment for every naive observer who believed that somehow Obama would free himself from the imperatives of American establishment, I am more interested in reading and studying Obama's journey which led  him to be the unlikely president. His book "Dreams from my father" makes a good starting point. Hence, I am reading it....      

a point of view

Since the past few days, one story in the news has been intriguing my mind. It is everywhere; on the social media and news channels,dining table discussions and now in the supreme court. It is the case of the murder of a 20 yrs old Shahzeb in Karachi. Tragic as the murder of young Shahzeb is, the overwhelming attention paid to it in a country, and in a city, where daily loss of lives has now come to be dismissively described as a mere number, an arithmetic, is interesting as well as intriguing. How is the murder of Shahzeb different from the scores of others being committed daily in this ill-fated land of ours ? What makes this death worthy of so much attention of the institutions and airtime in the media when many other innocent faceless, nameless Pakistanis continue to die in the dark alleys of anonymity ? These questions are now beginning to be asked. To be sure, every death of an innocent person is tragic.Our heart goes out to the parents of Shahzeb and his loved ones. Hence, without detracting from the woefulness of Shahzeb's murder, it is important to analyse how and why it managed to garner limelight where others fail. 

The reason why this story continues to resonate so loud and clear is because of its simplistic narrative. It fits in well with the perception, real or imagined, of ruthless, arrogant and illiterate feudal lords on the one hand and the young, good looking, educated, civilized and urbane middle-class on the other. It was the binary reduction of the story to this simplistic generalization which helped it become a sort of cause celebre. However, it did not become so instantly. Media had to work overtime by creating a parallel between this ugly incident and another one unfolding across the border in which the Indian middle-class rallied around the death of a rape-victim. We have this predilection for measuring our progress against the benchmark of the progress made by our neighbour which we love to hate, something aptly reflected in the following sentiment of a cricket fan "Beat India in semis, whatever then happens in the final is inconsequential." Hence, how could our media and 'civil society' (whatever it means) lag behind their Indian counterparts which, of late, have had many reasons to take to streets (and to special TV programming and social media activism) , most notably in the case of Anna Hazare's 'crusade' against corruption (whatever happened to it).  

So, those of you who are wondering why the case of Shahzeb's murder is receiving the attention which even the en masse killing of Shias don't , well, Welcome to the unequal world where every life is not equally important. While we will have to put up with the way things work here, we hope and pray that the culprits in Shahzeb's case are brought to justice. Now that the murder of Shahzeb has received the kind of attention that the killing fields in karachi and Balochistan don't, the case should be taken to its logical conclusion. The parents of Shahzeb need solace, though nothing can make up for the loss of a young son. As for the parents of anonymous sons and daughters who get neither tombstones nor epitaphs let alone candlelight vigils and facebook pages, they might have to wait indefinitely.   

  

Of Calendars-Gregorian and Personal

Yet another New Year.  Isn't it already an oxymoron ?
Irrespective, the threshold marks nothing extraordinary on a personal level. Since our lives are not built around calendar, we will continue,as before, waiting for our own little milestones somewhere around the corner. In fact, we have our own personal calendars with different timelines marking many a beginning and end. However, since the world is celebrating "New Year", I hope the excitement around will rub off on me and help me renew my energies and spirits in order to keep moving on my own little calendar which is still not near any threshold.        

Malala is important

Malala is recuperating in Birmingham. Hope she gets well soon and blossoms back to life. Malala is important because she symbolises everything that the forces of darkness are afraid of.  A young girl ,who loves education and defies all odds to attain it, is the worst nightmare of obscurantists. Malala is also important because she has the clarity, simplicity and truthfulness of a child. It took 14 yrs old Malala to say what many grownups in Pakistan could not. It was the audacious Malala who told her countrymen living in self-delusional state of denial that "the emperor has no clothes."