| March 23, 2002 | Saturday | Muharram 8, 1423 |
Lift the senseless ban
THE novel is one of the oldest literary forms in the English language. It was in the 17th century that it came into its own in Europe with Cervantes, the author of Don Quixote. Since then it has gradually become as important as the drama was in Greek literature.
In Urdu, epic stories like Dastan-i-Amir Hamza, Gul Bakauli and Fasana-i-Ajaib were written earlier but the first attempt at novel writing was made by Deputy Nazir Ahmed in 1869. He wrote Miratul Aroos and some other novels on social issues.
But the turning point came in 1899 when Mirza Hadi Ruswa came up with Umrao Jan Ada. It shed light on the cultural and social life of his age. Also in those days, Munshi Prem Chand produced Gaudaan, which was considered the most remarkable book of the time. This gave food for thought to latter day writers and some excellent novels were written by Mirza Muhammad Saeed Dehlvi, Aziz Ahmad, Ahsan Farooqi, Ismet Chughtai, Mumtaz Mufti, Jeelani Bano, Jamila Hashmi, Khadija Mastoor and others.
During the ‘50s, Quratual Ain Hyder created quite a stir in literary circles when she came up with her Aag Ka Darya. However, the novel came in for criticism as well from certain quarters. Later she came up with many more novels. Her initial approach to worldly problems was idealistic hence the pessimism. Her Kar-i-Jahan Daraz Heh is an autobiographical novel but Gardish-i-Rang-i-Chaman is different as it covers national issues. Her novel Chandni Begum is considered a total failure as it was for the first time that she tried to write about the lower strata of society but soon started portraying them as the bootlickers of the bourgeoisie.
Other modern day novelists usually talked about include Bano Qudsia, Intezar Husain, Abdullah Husain and Mustansar Husain Tarar. Intezar Husain seems to be greatly impressed by Russian and English fiction and as someone said, TS Eliot’s influence was evident in his writings. His Basti won critical acclaim for its prose and lively characters.
Abdullah Husain came into prominence with his novel, Udas Naslein, which a literary critic considers to be a historical document in which the author has made different technical experiments in the narrative. However, its main weakness is that it has no central theme. In the end he indulges in rambling discussions, lengthy dialogues and monologues.
Mustansar has also written some excellent novels, his semi-autobiographical Raakh won him a national award. However, I have yet to decide whether his Bahao was better. And before I forget, Tariq Mahmood is another novelist of note today. He first produced Allah Megh De and later a much more scintillating one, Beant Havaein. It is a highly descriptive novel with the scene changing with every chapter. Tariq shows wonderful command over the language and his mastery in introducing fresh characters.
I may be criticised for failing to mention other prominent novelists but what I have written so far is only an introduction to what has to come. It is about another modern day novelist, Anis Nagi, whose latest effort, Putlian, is before me.
Anis Nagi has so far written ten novels, his first, Deevar Ke Peechey, receiving most favourable notice. His Choohon ki Kahani I did not find worth taking note of. Another, novel, Camp, was definitely noteworthy. Mainly the story of a camp, where Afghan refugees are lodged, it is more of a discourse on human psychology with the story relegated to the second place. Throughout the novel his narrative is smooth and straight without any attempt at pontification.
Novel writing invites both research and inventiveness. The author has to have a full grasp of its craft and technique. He must have sensibility. The plot in Putlian is close to reality and Anis Nagi has done his best to paint the true picture of a middle class family of our country. He has not felt shy of portraying the seamy side of life; he has looked at life as a whole and not at fragments. And he has craftily ended every chapter of the book on such a tantalizing note that the reader is forced to move over to the next.
A novel is judged by the way an author introduces new characters. Anis Nagi showed mastery in this respect in his novel, Camp, by introducing the nurse, Dulari, who makes a brief appearance but leaves a long story behind. In Putlian, Nagi has introduced two minor characters, Parvin and Rahat, who add colour to the narrative. But the most powerful character is that of a young man, Shahzad, who once pointed a pistol at the head of the hero and then fell victim to his mercy. This character is an unusual creation.
Objections have been raised to the language used in the novel but Nagi is not apologetic about it. I fully support him in his stand. “I don’t write the language of Lucknow,” he says, “I write the language of the character.” It goes without saying that a novel has to evolve a language to reach a particular wavelength. The writer is required to coin his own vocabulary suited to the prevailing lifestyle.
To sum up, I may say that in this novel Anis Nagi has come up to the expectations of Boris Pasternak who once said: “In every generation there has to be some fool who will speak the truth as he sees it.”—ASHFAQUE NAQVI
IT HAS been almost two months since the government clamped a ban on all Indian channels — Star Plus, Zee TV, Sony, Zee News, Sahara and the like. Later, the ban was modified thanks to the cricket-watching proclivities of most Pakistanis and Star Sports and ESPN were excluded. Star World was also thankfully excluded — much to the relief of many young people — because most of its contents are in English and consist of American programmes.
The ban was said to be in retaliation against similar action against PTV in an Indian state. However, it turns out, this was more of a red herring and the PTV can be and is seen across the length and breadth of India. The other reason for the prohibition was that it certainly didn’t seem all that patriotic to let advertising revenue go from Pakistani corporate sponsors to Indian broadcasters. However, this argument can be countered quite easily in two ways.
First, what really was the harm in Pakistani products being advertised on channels that were availble to a massive, generally educated and upwardly mobile Asia-wide audience? In any case, the advertising tariff on PTV is considerably higher than on the Star channels so the volume of revenue being diverted was not significant by any means.
So what’s the situation now? Sony, Zee and Star Plus remain off our television screens despite the fact that (a) PTV is not banned in India and (b) they hardly have any programmes that could be categorized as propaganda or anti-Pakistan. One could argue — though not necessarily agree with the assertion — that Zee News is full of hate and propaganda against Pakistan but then so is our Khabarnama which has gone out of its way to point out to viewers the communal nature of the riots in Ahmedabad. And PTV still runs ad nauseum its programme Kashmir File, and the news bulletin still quotes freely from the Kashmir Media Service.
The ban on these channels also does not make sense for another reason. People who watch cable — and many got it just so that they could watch shows like Saas Bhee Kabhee Bahu Thee or Kahani Ghar Ghar Ki — still have to pay the same monthly charge. However, the cable operators surely must have seen a reduction in their operating costs because they no longer have to pay for the banned channels. However, this benefit of a reduction in cost is, as usually is the case in Pakistan, for practically every category of consumer, has not been passed on to subscribers.
Instead what has happened is that the videowallahs and wholesale markets like Karachi’s Rainbow Centre and Lahore’s Hall Road have been making a windfall renting out these shows on tapes and even VCDs. The going rent for a tape or VCD with around four episodes of any Indian serial is around Rs20. The video shops insist that the clients return the rental the next day. Clearly, it’s a high money-spinner for them and at whose expense? The consumers.’
No wonder, then, that we have the various associations of cable operators saying that the ban is good and that they are only happy in doing their ‘patriotic duty.’ The video store owners are also quite happy because finally they have a way of recouping the losses the advent of cable had caused to their business. A visit to my local video dealer confirmed the view that the industry was quite happy with the recent turn of events. Also, a quick run down of his clients for these bootlegged tapes suggested that the families of the high and mighty — senior government and military officers — had no qualms about renting the banned shows.
But who is the loser? Ordinary viewers like you and me. In fact, one recently met a friend who went on and on about how patently unnecessary the ban seemed. She said that she recently met someone here who had come from India and that the Indian was praising PTV’s plays and serials to high heaven. “So if they can watch PTV in India, why can’t we in Pakistan watch Star Plus or Sony? Please tell what propaganda comes through in Antakshari or Saas Bhee Kabhee Bahu Thee. I know of dozens of housewives, women who don’t normally leave their homes, who would watch these Indian soaps in the afternoons. Now they have nothing to do. What is the government getting from this ban, especially when whoever wants to see can get one through the black market?” she asked. — OMAR R. QURAISHI