REVIEWING books by authors as varied and revered as Mahakavi Kalidasa and Khushwant Singh and as contemporary and unique storytellers as Selina Hossain and Syed Asad Ali is no cakewalk. Each one of them offers a wide range of narrative and content that not only falls in the mythological realm, but also relates to contemporary societal happenings. It would be an arduous task to do justice to all of them as per their literary stature, for describing them in a nutshell is just not possible. Still, there’s no harm in giving it a shot.
Azhar Saeed Khan’s Urdu translation of Kalidasa’s masterpiece Meghadoot is a commendable effort. If for anything else, it should be appreciated and acknowledged for the very fact that Azhar Saeed Khan took upon himself to transliterate (and not just translate) an epic poem written in Sanskrit a little over two millennia ago. In doing so, he has tried to keep the verse aesthetically poetic and the metaphors and similes original. Of course, such a gigantic endeavour might not please all critics of the genre, but in this day and age, where the line between trash and pure literature is getting blurred by the minute, making Meghadoot accessible and understandable to the modern-day reader is, by no means, a small feat. Meghadoot tells the tale of a citizen of Alkapuri, a city situated in the Himalayas, who is banished by the ruler of the region Dhanpati Yaksha Raaj Kabir for not performing his duty and is separated from his wife for one year. He leaves the city and starts living at Raam Aashram. Quite a number of days pass by, but when it starts to rain, memories of his wife begin to torture him and he writhes in agony. In utter despondency, he befriends a cumulus rain cloud and implores it to convey his message of love to his wife.
In the entire poetic narrative, the way the picturesque beauty of the region is described by that woeful man is a cerebral treat. Azhar Saeed Khan deserves kudos for, at least, attempting to translate such a renowned piece of literature.
Khushwant Singh is known all over the world for his biting reportage, columns and incisive fiction writing. Sharif Awan’s selection and Urdu translation of some of Khushwant Singh’s famous pieces, Khushwant Singh ki Khoobsurat Tehreerein, ranging from an excerpt from his novel, Train to Pakistan, to reporting of Z A Bhutto’s trial and his subsequent execution, is a worthwhile addition to the bookshelves of those who are voracious readers.
However, it has to be mentioned that Khushwant Singh not just likes but relishes writing in English. Therefore, his expressions and descriptive details of whatever he chooses to write on have a distinct air about them. No matter how hard one tries to translate them into any other language, it would be a virtual impossibility to bring in the same sting and zing that’s the hallmark of Khushwant Singh’s writings. That doesn’t imply that Shareef Awan’s effort is not worthwhile. It’s just that, as they say, sometimes translations behave like wives: if they’re beautiful, they are hardly faithful; and if they’re faithful, chances are that may not be beautiful.
This brings me to another book, Toofan, Urdu translation of a Bengali novel by Selina Hossain, whose English version was entitled Warp and Woof. Mumtaz Rafiq is the Urdu translator, and it has to be said that he’s done a pretty good job in keeping the story true to Bengali culture and environs.
The story of the book pivots around three characters, an old man, a young girl and a young boy, who are displaced during a tempestuous storm and by a stroke of fate come together. The old fisherman, like the young couple, develops a certain kind of affinity with the two of them, and this is where all those factors come into play that are associated with human instincts, weaknesses as well as innate goodness. The story is a good study of the human psyche in the face of odds that more often than not rear their heads once some calamitous event triggers a series of events.
Now we come to Syed Asad Ali, whose collection of short stories, Andheron ki Kahani, pulled one out of a pessimistic quagmire. Just when one was about to harbour the opinion that short story genre in Urdu literature doesn’t have a particularly bright future, Syed Asad Ali’s, allow me to claim, fresh approach to storytelling and a reasonable attempt at doing away with clichéd metaphors and similes, proves one wrong.
Despite having its feeble areas, which every work of art can’t consciously avoid, the different pieces in Andheron ki Kahani introduces the reader of Urdu literature to readily identifiable, yet a delectable array of characters, ranging from village people to those who are familiar with the Western lifestyle. But with all the pleasure that one extracted from reading the book, it appeared that the characteristic feature of Syed Asad Ali is his uncanny ability to produce intelligent lines. The line that Bano Qudsia has mentioned in the introduction to the book, Aadmi chhotey barey nahin hotey, un ka faasla hamein un ko chhota bara ker dikhata hai, is proof of that.
But once the reader starts reading Andheron ki Kahani, he’ll find that it’s fraught with such lines. For example, the story entitled “Do lamhon ke khwab” begins with the sentence, Usey meri kahani sunney ka koee huq nahin jis ke pahlu mein kisi dil ne kabhi dera nahin dala. Having said that, one feels that Syed Asad Ali needs to flesh out his characters a tad more. Sometimes his style, however fluid, leaves something or the other to be desired and borders on a rather quasi-surrealistic domain.
To round it all off, a quartet of books that’s quite unputdownable.
Meghadoot
By Mahakavi Kalidasa
Translated by Azhar Saeed Khan
Maktaba Jamia Limited, Jamia Nagar, New Delhi-110025