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May 8, 2005
Author’s Favourites
Many of our writers and poets have graced the pages of Books & Authors by writing for us. The presence of others has been registered through their books which we have excerpted or reviewed. To have their participation on this occasion we sent at random the following question to a number of them: “Which character/personality in a book you have read has fascinated you most and why?” Here are the answers we received from those who were kind enough to reply to our query
Talat Abbasi is the author of Bitter Gourd and Other Stories
Richard Parker, the Bengal tiger in Yann Martel’s novel Life of Pi who demonstrated that sharing space with a man without killing him was difficult but could be done.
Dr Aftab Ahmad is author of Ghalib-i-Ashufta Nawa and Bayad-i-Suhbat-i-Nazuk-Khayalan
After my initial introduction to the weekly Phool and some books of Urdu for children and having memorized a few stray lines from Hali and Iqbal, I was precocious enough to get hold of my father’s copy of Aab-i-Hayat by Maulana Muhammad Hussain Azad, about whom I had heard from my grandfather who knew him personally.
The book in question contains a history of the Urdu language and the development of its poetry from the earliest to Ghalib and Zauq. Azad had lived through the period of the last two and was a pupil and ardent admirer of Zauq. I found the book fascinating, though at that stage I followed its contents, only in bits and pieces. However, my fascination for it grew manifold later because of its most engaging portrayal of the lives of our ancient poets with lots of interesting stories and anecdotes connected with them. The book has been adversely criticized both as history and as criticism. Azad was not a research scholar of the status of Shibli, nor a critic of the calibre of Hali, but he was certainly a master craftsman in bringing to life his “dramatis personae”, as it were, before his reader’s eyes. He had a captivating prose style, unique and incomparable in Urdu literature. As Shibli is reported to have said of him that he was not a man of research but whatever he wrote was revelational.
To sum up, Azad was my first favourite author in Urdu, and his book Aab-i-Hayat my first guide to Urdu poetry. It remained close to me and was for years kept on my bedside table when I was old enough to have one.
Rukhsana Ahmad is the author of The Hope Chest and We Sinful Women
Which character has fascinated me the most and why?
Seductive question to ponder, I thought. I shall enjoy reflecting on a gallery of amazing fictional characters. I did. Only it became impossible to choose one, and send the others away. Well, maybe just briefly then, on a momentary whim, as one chooses an outfit for the day
Oliver Twist was my favourite when I was 10, to be ousted by Florence (Dombey and Son) then Afshaan and on to Shamman (Terhi Lakeer). Then, I discovered Emma. I let her go when I found Isabel Archer. Now, Anil (Anil’s Ghost) makes more sense.
Oddly enough, my favourite male characters are rogues and villains rather than heroes. I do prefer Macbeth or Tom Jones to the blandness of a Pip or Fielding. The rogue of all rogues who has always had a soft spot in my heart is Shankar in Manto’s short story, “Kali Shalwar”, an incredibly charming and well-drawn character. Aptly named, he is a man of wit and intellect, but above all, someone who has a way with women, not crude, not obvious, just sensitive and subtle. He is capable of all the empathy and sympathy a woman needs. Not surprisingly, Sultana succumbs to his gentle playful entrapment. It is perhaps a portrayal of the author himself in the guise of voyeur: he slips easily almost openly into the role of seducer and flirt making no false claims to morality of any kind, neither judging nor seeking more than just a casual relationship, a liberal in a harshly judgemental world.
Razia Fasih Ahmad is the author of Ablapa and Sadyon ki Zanjeer
I still visualize Natasha sitting on a windowsill laughing and talking to Sonia appreciating the moonlit night. When the hero Prince Andrew of Tolstoy’s novel War and Peace hears her jovial, youthful voice he is mesmerized. It is amazing that I was so fascinated with this character when I read the novel long ago — in the 60s.
Natasha is beautiful, charming, intelligent and full of vivacity and everybody in the novel loves her. But she is not perfect: she is, naive and innocent and too young to understand the complexities of life. Her youthful vulnerability makes her more fascinating. The reader forgives her for planning to elope with an insincere man.
I suffer with her when she meets her wounded lover on his death bed. I am happy for her when she agrees to marry Pierre, a sincere person who is deeply in love with her.
It’s said that Tolstoy modelled Natasha in the likeness of his aunt. It proves that she was a real, living person, and it is the command he has over his art that makes her such a lovable person. Natasha is Tolstoy’s masterpiece. I believe she will continue to fascinate readers for years to come.
Fakir Aijazuddin is the author of Lahore: Illustrated Views of the 19th Century and The Armless Queen and Other Essays
Tenzin Gyatso, the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, is not simply a living Buddha; he is a living paradox. A Tibetan by birth, he has spent almost all his adult life in exile in India. A Buddhist by belief, he has found refuge in the very country that centuries ago had externed Buddhism from its mainland. An engineer manque by inclination, he has subordinated his passion for everything mechanical to become a spiritual mentor and guide for millions who seek the Right Path. Acknowledged as a Bodhisattva, the crusade he has conducted within himself against his own imperfections has become at an international level, a struggle against injustice and state-sponsored genocide. And as the Fourteenth of his line of reincarnations, (the first Dalai Lama dates back to 1475), he acknowledges that — the cycle of rebirth notwithstanding — he may well be the last of his line.
My interest in the Dalai Lama began in 1959 when I read of his escape from the invading Communist Chinese army after the invasion of Tibet in March that year. I read a number of books by persons such as Heinrich Harrer’s Seven Years in Tibet and Portrait of a Dalai Lama by Charles Bell who had known The Great Thirteen Lama. The latest to inspire me has been a collage of memories and pen-portraits assembled and edited by Rajiv Melhotra — Understanding the Dalai Lama. It has reminded me that his message of universal responsibility is not a mantra but an exhortation to multiply the individual responsibility we should feel towards each other to a global level, for that is the elevation from which Bodhisattva views the world.
Iqbal Akhund is the author of Memoirs of a Bystander and Trial and Error
One gets to know fictional characters more intimately than the closest friends and relatives. For the writer takes you into their minds and hearts, to share their passions, emotions and innermost thoughts. But there are too many with claims on one’s feelings to choose one as the most fascinating. In the biographical field an objective choice is perhaps easier to make on the basis of the person’s role in history as well as his character. For me a uniquely impressive personality, not least because of the relevance of his life and accomplishments to today’s Pakistan, was that of Henri IV, King of France from 1589 to 1610. Bon vivant, opportunist, who cheated at cards and on his wives, he was fearless in war and even more so in making peace. He came to the throne of a country bled by decades of conflict between catholics and protestants and brought to the verge of economic ruin by corrupt officials and profligate nobles. When he died, at the hands of a religious fanatic, he had turned the state from a partisan in the religious conflict to an impartial arbiter, rebuilt the economy and made France into a great power in Europe.
A recent biography is by French parliamentarian, Francois Bayrou, a book that I reviewed in this publication.
Thalassa Ali is the author of A Singular Hostage and A Beggar at the Gate
The best character I have come across recently is Ludo, the little boy in The Last Samurai by Helen DeWitt. Ludo is a four-year-old prodigy, and it’s clear that the author herself was one as well, for she does a lovely job of showing his great mind, his love of his mother and the constant whirling of his mind as they ride the Circle Line in London to keep warm in winter, with his stroller packed with books, including the Odyssey in the original Greek, which he explains to the other passengers.
Javed Amir is the author of Writing Across Boundaries and Modern Soap
I have enjoyed writing books. But looking back I wish I would have been a maker of films also. Why? Because, words are weak. They do not always do what we expect them to. Less ambiguous, perhaps, is the communication through a camera. Hence the cliche, a picture is worth a thousand words. My favourite creative personality, therefore, who also is a writer of books like In Search of Mystery is Bernardo Bertolucci, the world renowned Italian film director. His movies are expressionistic, meaning that they transgress the realities of everyday life and using several visual techniques aim for the mood and aura of the surrealistic. His controversial 1972 film “Last Tango in Paris” is a romantic and sensuous work of art. It is the story of a middle aged man who is torn by despair at the suicide of his wife and embarks on a purely sexual sadomasochistic affair with a young girl, who in the end, kills him. As the dying protagonist staggers onto the balcony of the apartment and gazes longingly for the last time at life and the Parisian rooftops drenched in a golden twilight, only Mirza Ghalib’s words could match this aesthetic visual drama: Jo haath mai junbish nahin, ankhon mai to dum hai/ Rehnay do abhee saghar o meena merey agai.
Saad Ashraf is the author of Fifty Autumn Leaves and The Postmaster
I was greatly fascinated by the personality and life of Sir Syed Ahmad Khan when I recently had an opportunity to read an impressionable book The Life and Work of Syed Ahmed Khan CSI written by his friend and admirer Lieut Colonel G.F.I. Graham, in 1885. This fascination was converted into adulation when I got an opportunity to visit the Aligarh Muslim University as a member of a delegation. Every educated and enlightened Muslim in the subcontinent owes something to Sir Syed’s determined passion to raise his community from the abysmal depths to which they had fallen after 1857 and repair their relationship with the ruling Imperial power.
Sir Syed did this by appealing and convincing his coreligionists to shed their old and decadent thinking based on a bigoted interpretation of Islam and embrace the realm of modern thought and western education. The seed that Sir Syed Ahmad planted with his own hands from begged or borrowed resources to set up the Mohammedan Anglo Oriental College at Aligarh in 1877 flowered over time, and provided educated Muslim manpower for the mainstream of Indian national life.
His greatness lay in his steely determination, unimpeachable integrity and unflinching conviction in overcoming odds without knowing how to read or write English. The opposition to Sir Syed’s concept of modernizing Muslims and keeping pace with changing times continues to this day when religious zealotry creates impediments in the way of their development but the concepts he laid down survive and prosper — an eternal tribute to the greatness of the man.
Attiya Dawood is the author of Raging to be Free (an anthology of her poems translated in English) and Aaine ke Samne (autobiography in Hindi)
The character of a small boy in the story Pehli Maut, which lends its name to the collection of short stories by Zamiruddin Ahmad, has never failed to fascinate me. The child has his own well defined ethics, which he might have learnt from books. Thus such principles as telling the truth and upholding justice become a part of his very existence. Once when he finds two boys — one weak but on the right side and another strong but guilty — engaged in an unequal fight, he sides with the former and injures the latter by hitting him with a stone.
His parents strongly disapprove of his involvement in a fight that had nothing to do with him. Over the years he has to face the consequences of fighting for truth and justice, but when he faces starvation he eventually gives in.
I love the character because I somehow tend to identify with the boy and I feel that all of us initially feel the same way as the child did. Don’t we all get disillusioned when we find that the price to pay for our ideals is no small one?
Farman Fatehpuri is the author of Tabeerat-i-Ghalib aur Shaair Imroz-i-Farwa and Tanqeedi Shuzraat-o-Maqalat
One of my favourite and interesting characters is Hasrat Mohani, the author of Kulliyat-i-Hasrat Mohani and Mahasin-i-Sukhan. I am impressed not only by his writings but also his personality and his work. I have had the honour of seeing him closely and spending time with him. I used to listen to him speak very carefully. He spoke about his fiery ideas that used to inspire me a great deal. I had also heard him recite poetry many a times. I also had the privilege of receiving education from the same school that Hasrat Mohani went to, and studied from the teachers who had taught him. He was my role model as it was the determination in his character that inspired both his friends and adversaries.
Asif Farrukhi is the author of Aik Aadmi Ki Kami and Aalam Ijad
Living in the novel is for me, rather than with the novel, or by the novel. This is the condition I like to attain. Truly memorable are those novels which help me attain this, novels which are ingrained in my imagination and which I carry within me. The life of the novel takes over and I cross over to the other side of the mirror. I recognize “the world” in such novels and relate to it. The “distinct” world of Dickens or Jane Austen. As a reader I can recognize the author’s tone of voice, the world-view, the sort of characters which inhabit the pages of this world, the conflicts and crises, the very values underpinning this world. Would I be able to live in this world? Not for long. I wouldn’t be able to breathe in these large glass-cases. What I would really like is to live in a novel of my own making. But that is not to be. Perhaps people like me are condemned to live in the world of, well, Kamila Shamsie. I can hear people from all over the world (this world, not mine!) talking about me by saying: “Oh, he comes from the city in which she sets her novels.”
So for me, its alone and afraid, in a novel which I did not make. I can feel another novel fluttering its threatening pages around me. A novel I did not choose but feel trapped in. Nazir Ahmed’s 19th century classic Tauba-tun-Nusooh is the story of the father who comes back from near-death to religion and wants his children to adhere to his beliefs. He burns his son Kaleem’s books as corrupt and decadent. Kaleem is confused between his own decadent lifestyle and his family’s newly found religious zeal. What is the choice for him? I read my generation in Kaleem’s dilemma. That too in a novel which I did not choose to live in!
Ahmad Faruqi is the author of Rethinking the National Security of Pakistan
I am fascinated by Caius Marcius, a military and political leader of ancient Rome, who was given the title Coriolanus after a major victory in 493BC. Shakespeare chronicled his rise and fall in one of his greatest plays, Coriolanus.
Coriolanus’ life brings out the tensions that arise in the young Roman Republic as it makes a transition from autocracy to democracy. The citizens have begun to participate in the election of consuls. Tribunes, representing their interests, defend them against abuses of power.
Toward the end of his life, after failing to persuade the Romans to accept him as their ruler, Coriolanus turns against Rome and is banished. In the ultimate irony, he joins the enemies of Rome and mounts an attack on Rome. However, his mother persuades him to call off the attack. His new friends, the enemies of Rome, are enraged and kill him.
Coriolanus resembles the tragic hero of an ancient Greek drama, a great man who is brought low by hubris. Overriding egoism can only terminate in desolation, as Plato said.
In many ways, the situation resembles today’s Pakistan, a young republic struggling to define its body politic after centuries of imperial rule and one that continues to be dominated by feudal lords and the military.
Yasmeen Hameed is the author of Pas-i-Aina, Hisar-i-Be-Dar-o-Deevar, Aadha Din aur Aadhi Raat) and Fana Bhi Eik Saraab
I don’t have favourites. There are certain personalities though, that are more intriguing than others. Not the extraordinary deeds and obvious achievements of these people but the small little truths of their lives that shape their personalities and make them what they are. Among them is Sheikh Fareeduddin Masood (Ganj-i-Shakar), who shunned the world and prayed for his followers to be endowed with the bounty of pain and suffering. I happened to read about his life only in bits and pieces in different books and then in a 100-page book called Fareed-o-Fard-i-Fareed by Aslam Farukhi, but his life and teachings have provoked and inspired my thoughts.
Jalaluddin Rumi’s outburst of creativity after the age of 40 and his intense bond with Shams Tabrez fascinates me beyond words. I read about his life in Afzal Iqbal’s and Annemarie Schimmel’s works. Lives of intensely creative women like Quratulain Tahira, Farogh Farrukhzad and Virginia Woolf also stir my thoughts. These were the misunderstood women who probably met the kind of end they did for this very reason. Certain similarities between these women from varying and diverse cultures, living in different times can be drawn from the kind of lives they led and the way they reacted to the social and political circumstances surrounding them. They were all misfits, outsiders in an alien world that did not accept them as they were. Their works speak more of their minds and their complexities than any of their biographies.
I like to delve into any material, biographical or otherwise, about them, and explore and understand the hidden facets of their creative genius. I particularly enjoyed reading Hillman’s account of the life and works of Farogh Farrukhzad in A Lonely Woman.
Mohsin Hamid is the author of Moth Smoke and has been “attempting to become the author of a second novel for the past five years”
At the moment, I must say I am deeply fascinated by the character of Jean-Baptise Clamence, the narrator-protagonist of The Fall by Albert Camus. We — the readers — encounter him in a bar in Amsterdam and he proceeds to tell us a brilliant confession which implicates not only him, but also leftist-intellectual Paris, and even his reader. His voice — conversational, charming, intelligent — is one of the great achievements of 20th century literature, and he has taught me a great deal.
Arif Hasan is the author of Unplanned Revolution and Housing for the Poor
I first read Emile Ludwig’s Napoleon when I was 22 and I was fascinated both by the book and by its principal character. I have remained fascinated ever since. The book is divided into four sections: The Island (where Napoleon was born); The Torrent (the process of his rise to power); The Sea (when he engulfed the world); and the Rock (where he died in imprisonment). The title of each part conveys the drama, glory and tragedy of one of the most remarkable and influential world figures of the post-French Revolution period.
Napoleon was both a poet and a mathematician and hence a man of genius. As a poet he promoted the ideals of the revolution that produced him and took them to every corner of Europe and the Middle East. These ideals changed the world. There are historians who believe that without him the European monarchies would have wiped out revolutionary France and world history would have been different.
As a mathematician, he became an Emperor and founded a monarchy so as to negotiate with the monarchies of Europe and allay their fears. He was a great law giver and his code Napoleon has been adapted into the legal systems of many European and non-European countries.
Napoleon had a great sense of history and drama. Among other things, his speeches to inspire his troops demonstrate this. At the battle of the Pyramids outside Cairo he addresses them by saying, “Soldiers, 40 centuries are gazing down on you.” His letters to the women he loved are full of tenderness and concern; those to his officials have a crispness and an eye for detail; those to his opponents are master pieces of diplomacy; and along with his orders and declarations, they are all great literature.
Emile Ludwig’s book makes us love, hate, admire and despise the person who is considered by many as the father of modern Europe, but in spite of all these conflicting emotions, the one emotion that triumphs is an immense affection for General Bonaparte.
Shahida Hasan is the author of Aik Tara Hai Serhaanay Meray and Yahan Kuchch Phool Rakhay Hein
I have enjoyed the works of marvellous poets and writers and have been fascinated by thoughtfully written characters in many elegant narratives. I appreciate the distinctive voice that captures a broad range of human experience. They all give me a new perception of life. Sometimes in the morning I recall a verse of Shakespeare or a couplet of Mir or Ghalib... or a line of some major woman poet like Meera Bai, Alejandra Pizarnik or Farogh Farrukhzad and stay with it the whole day. I read and appreciate women’s writings and through them try to explore the kind of lives they have lived during this period of turbulent and rapidly changing human history.
But if you really want me to single only one such character, the one that has fascinated me the most I would have to pick the character of a woman who is the daughter of Hazrat Ali — Syeda Bibi Zainab.
The western society may offer us many examples but in a society like ours where in the name of religion and social taboos, women are deprived of even basic human rights, the character of Bibi Zainab has essentially laid the foundation of inspiration for me to learn the best of my traditions. We, the Muslim women, are expected to be tight-lipped, mute and submissive. We can have a vision and emotions but are never to reveal it. Our loyalty depends on our continuous state of suffering. Reading the eloquent text of Bibi Zainab’s speech in the book, Zindagani-i- Hazrat Zainab, in the court of Yazid, I found in her voice the true legacy of my religion, culture and traditions.
It’s not a matter of belief for me — it’s a matter of analyzing facts with new insights. Although in chains, she fearlessly condemned the cruel monarchy and raised questions about their misdeeds. She was not the weak, defeated, broken and complaining woman brought as a prisoner and neither did she beg for mercy. All the male enemies were around her but she raised her voice. It is a stunning speech. This marvellous khutba has introduced me to the inner strength of a woman. I have got a new approach to my traditional values. The intensity of her courage and truthfulness thrills me, so as a woman writer whenever I find myself reluctant in voicing my passions and reactions, these words spoken more than 1,400 years ago inspire me to speak up.
Alamgir Hashmi is the author of My Second in Kentucky and The Ramazan Libation
A fascinating character is Tiresias. Not because we know him as well as many other characters, but because we are almost aware of the extent of our knowledge about him. His hold on us as the seer of all times is such that we would not give up for a little more. It is not how he looks but what he says or (equivalently) does that is significant.
As the Greek myth has it, he is not permitted to look at anything anyway; he enters the myth when he loses ordinary eyesight. The origins of this condition and gift are variously told, ascribed to a goddess’ annoyance [either on account of seeing her at toilet (Athena) or giving one away by speaking the truth of her (Hera or Juno) greater joy in love than her counterpart’s] and a goddess’ (Athena) or god’s (Zeus) compensatory compassion; substituting — so to speak — foretelling of the future for the present view. And a long life too.
He shows up occasionally, in Homer’s The Odyssey, Sophocles’ Oedipus, Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Milton’s Paradise Lost, Tennyson’s Tiresias, down to several works of our own time. No one else has seen tomorrow. The inward eye opens and illuminates time past, present, and future; a consciousness in which the world may cohere and continue. Our grasp of so many well-known characters, the meaning of their lives, and the nature of events would be much less confident should this socially marginal character, Tiresias, not do his non-partisan work, deciphering, showing, telling, sitting fence. He is not related to anyone. Whether the gods knew it or not, when he spoke his mind, he (she) knew what he (she) was talking about — he had lived as a woman for seven years. Taught by the gods, he put his knowledge to fit use. We do not know much about his personal well-being, health, or happiness. However, it is certain that a point came when he sought death, went to the village well at Tilphussa, drank from it, and passed on. When I visited the area in Greece many years ago, the mortal spring still fed into the same well.
Fatema Hassan is the author of Kahanian Gum Ho Jaati Hein and Yaadein Bhi Ab Khwab Hueen
Reading novels and short stories is my hobby. The novel fascinates me more. I start identifying with the characters as soon as I start reading a book. These characters have been helping me in understanding human psychology and the complexed behaviour of people. Recently I read a very impressive novel Kaghzi Ghat by renowned short story writer Khalida Hussain. This is her first novel. The character which fascinated me in the novel is Mona who is narrating her life story as a third person. But that person could be any woman who can feel, think and communicate and who has a consciousness of the ever changing paradigms.
The character is not very loud. In subtle terms Mona tells us about her ancestors, her parents, friends, neighbours and many others. She keeps on talking about geopolitics, social and cultural changes. Martial law, war and even about metaphysics, with a touch of stream of consciousness. Mona also feels about gender discrimination in all classes of women.
When she looks at the life of her friend Ayesha whom she admires for her beauty and intelligence — both.
Mona’s character in the novel is presented as a mirror which reflects many characters each with perplexity. The male character of Hassan, with whom Mona wants to share her thoughts and feelings, is also a prisoner of his circumstances. He only tells her that he can understand her but he never shares his own life with her or act as a companion. Mona is in search of a proof of her being and wants somebody to be there to tell her the raison d’etre of her existence. She wants to share these feelings with Hassan who has been advising her to write all that she wishes to say. He remains out of her life and just a day before her marriage comes to her with his son. In Mona we can see the people who start life with aims and dreams but end up in frustration — that all went waste.
She believes there is no absolute truth in life, and every one has a predetermined fate. Then what are we doing? What choices does a person have? These questions in Mona’s mind are a proof of her complete and conscious personality.
Zaheda Hina is the author of Qaidi Sans Laita Hai and Aurat: Zindagi ka Zindan
Of all the novels I have read, Sophocles’ heroine Antigone is the dearest to me. I read the book in the days when General Ayub was ruling over the country with an iron fist. Antigone really fascinated me and from her I learnt the meaning of valour and defiance. You can call it love at first sight.
Through her I came to know that to prove your strength you don’t have to be a Rustam from the Shahnama. A fragile and young girl can also reach the heights of strength. It is nothing great to fight for a king. Greatness lies in revolting and fighting against the tyrants.
In the drama Antigone’s two brothers have fought against each other and have been killed. One who fought for the king is given a state funeral. The other who rebelled against the king is called a traitor. His slain body has been left for vultures and hyenas. The king’s orders are that anyone who dares to bury the traitor will meet a horrible death. Antigone defies the king and performs the last rites. She is executed.
Antigone bore her ordeal alone as no one came forward to support her though they paid her homage. Antigone taught me the courage it takes to think freely and act independently. It is a highly politically charged play, its main character is a splendid heroine who can be interpreted by modern-day feminists in a thousand ways.
Dr Pervez Hoodbhoy is the author of Islam and Science — Religious Orthodoxy and the Battle for Rationality
Which character do I find most fascinating? It is Einstein as he is in Einstein’s Miraculous Year — Five Papers that Changed the Face of Physics edited by John Stachel.
Politics is for the moment but an equation is for eternity. Albert Einstein’s famous postulation of an energy-mass equation, which states that a particle of matter can be converted into an enormous quantity of energy, changed physics forever. Probably the most creative intellect in human history, Einstein unravelled the mysterious fabric of space and time. The Big Bang picture of the creation of the universe, now accepted by all scientists, is but one consequence of his General Theory of Relativity.
We admire you, Einstein, because you were such a deep thinker. But it is for your incorrigible humanism that we love you. Your message: being a human being is infinitely more important than the accident of birth that places one into this or that tribe. You fought against nuclear weapons, championed the cause of pacifism and secularism, and rejected an offer to become president of an exclusivist religious state, Israel. You were uncomfortable with the notion that people belonging to one religion should have more rights than the others living within the same state. Hence you insisted that “a snail can shed his shell and still be a snail”, meaning that a person can shed the faith of one’s ancestors and yet keep intact one’s cultural identity.
Today, as the leaping flames of religious fundamentalism and ultra-nationalism scorch the globe, you give hope to us embattled firefighters not just in exclusivist states like Pakistan and Israel, but all over the world.
Intizar Hussain is the author of Basti, Janam Kahanian and Qissa Kahanian
I am not the kind of person who finishes books cover to cover systematically. I read books in a haphazard way, leaving one sometimes in the middle and starting the other.
One morning while engaged in rummaging through old translations of Sanskrit classics at the Punjab Public Library, I stumbled on a series of volumes titled Ocean of Story. I picked up a volume (these are ten big volumes) which turned out to be the English version of Katha Sarit Sagar.
The author of this book is Soma Dev, a Kashmiri Pandit who lived in the 11th century. He is said to have completed this work in about 1070. But Soma Dev himself does not claim these stories to be originally by him. They were told by Shivji for entertainment of his consort Parbati. They were overheard by a maid who later had to bear the brunt of Parbati’s curse. She was driven out of the Devnagri and fated to live on earth, being transformed into a human being. These tales travelled down from the higher regions of Kailash to this world and eventually Gunadya wrote them down.
I find Gunadya one of the most interesting characters. He documented these tales with his blood, as ink was not available to him. His narration ran in six lakh ashoks but he got utterly disappointed when the raja of the times rejected his tales. Gunadya then wandered into the jungle.
In the jungle he lit a fire and began to address the birds and other animals and recite his tales. The non-human audience heard him with rapt attention as Gunadya, heart-broken, wept copiously while narrating each tale, until the raja realized his mistake and had him found and his tales preserved.
I find this character most interesting, as he was so committed to his stories that he wrote them with his blood. He told his tales to a non-human audience, though he felt that he had no audience but they heard him with so much involvement.
Zulfikar Ghose is the author of The Murder of Aziz Khan and Selected Poems
Not one but a host of characters keep me entertained every day, and I spend more time with them than with real people. Hamlet is constantly sulking in a corner of my room where, candle in hand and her eyes glazed, Lady Macbeth sometimes comes walking past pursued by Falstaff’s laughter; I look out of the window and there’s Heathcliff and Catherine running past hand in hand; you’ve only got to say ‘Dickens’ and an army of characters goes marching across my eyes; then there’s Diderot’s Jacques and a whole family of friends in Balzac. I’m reminded of one of those Soviet style May Day parades which went on and on, so endless are the characters who continue to fascinate me. But if I must give you one, it has to be a composite of Murphy, Watt, Molloy and Malone in Beckett’s novels who combine in my mind as The Unnamable whose being fills me with wonder, astonishment, joy and horror all at once. The Unnamable is all of us, all humanity compressed into one abstract being, the living and the dead caught in a timeless presence in a meaningless universe.
Aquila Ismail is the author of Transport and Evictions, and translator of Harvest of Anger and Other Stories
The protagonist in Italo Calvino’s metafictional novel If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller is the reader, that is, me. The chapter asks me to relax and concentrate and so on before beginning the strange, funny, intriguing tale about me. This book is written in the second person, with the reader as the main character, and is really a sublime unreal novel about a novel that contains other novels, 10 to be precise.
So I like being the main character of stories of mystery, danger, spies, premonition where both reading and books obsess me and drive the curious plot. What is really annoying is that at each turn my need for an ending to the story is foiled. Sometimes this is due to bad printing, or unfinished stories, or novels cut into several parts and distributed, or the digression to tales of murder and sorrow, to annoying professors, the intervention of the revolutionary or the radical feminist and even censorship.
All I (the reader) want is to read a beguiling book, but to no avail. Each of the 10 novels terminate suddenly at the peak of suspense. How do these stories end? It is the reader’s (my?) imagination which may or may not find an end and a resolution. There is no ‘plot’ per se tying the beginning of the book to the end, but that’s the whole point. This book is about reading and the expectations we bring to reading and it is all so perplexing.
Ghada Karmi, a Palestinian-born activist, who settled in England in 1949, is the author of In Search of Fatima and The Palestinian Exodus: 1948-1998
Being an Arab and a Muslim, I suppose that I should have selected for my most memorable personality some figure in Islamic history or Arabic literature or other area of Arab life. But my education was wholly English and I was attracted by western culture (though not western politics) from an early age. The England of my youth lacked an Islamic/Arab cultural alternative, and so I read English literature avidly. In this pursuit I came across a remarkable book, whose heroine fascinated me unlike any other living or dead. I read Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca when I was 12. The story gripped my imagination from the start, as did the Hollywood film made of it before my time, with Laurence Olivier and Olivia de Haviland.
The book is set in Cornwall, a wild, remote part of England’s south. Its main character, Rebecca, never appears throughout because she is dead. And yet, she haunts the book with a tantalizing presence more real than the living characters. We long to see her, touch her, smell her, but she eludes us. The author conveys this in a myriad subtle ways that make her familiar, yet unknowable. The story is told by the woman who takes her place as the second wife to the main male character, and becomes as obsessed by her as we are. I won’t impart the details for those who want to read the book. Rebecca fascinated me because I think we are all drawn to mystery and magic and, glamorous and unforgettable, she was something all women envy. And it was all set in a wild, romantic landscape, unlike anything I had known at home in Palestine, and made me want to explore England more.
Harris Khalique is the author of Between You and Your Love and Purani Numaish
I have liked some other books more but was rather touched and intrigued, not exactly fascinated, by the character of Tomas in Milan Kundera’s novel Unbearable Lightness of Being. I read it in 1996 after finishing a brief stint with Amnesty International in Central and Eastern Europe. I saw Prague and other East European cities presenting a mixture of depression and rejuvenation. The youth of our generation was long worn-out under General Zia. Karachi was charred and the country was struggling.
Times have changed since. But in Pakistan, the basic questions remain unresolved. Subscribing to indigenous socialist-democracy where the value of an individual is not undermined, I continue to relate to Tomas in odd ways. His passionate political resolve made him into a window washer from a surgeon. The same passion led him to women or they to him, including his libertine friend Sabina. And that very passion was manifested in an eternal affection for the woman he had married, Tereza. She would bring him back to Czechoslovakia after he managed to escape and they die in an accident.
Mahmood Hasan Khan is author of Economics of the Green Revolution in Pakistan and Underdevelopment and Agrarian Structure in Pakistan
The life and works of Bertrand Russell have been of great interest to me. Caroline Moorhead’s Bertrand Russell: A Life has captured well a large part of his idiosyncratic life and his many works. I have been fascinated by the story of Europe’s transformation through renaissance, reformation, and enlightenment — a journey of nearly four centuries. In my life time, very few individuals have represented the age of enlightenment as well as Bertrand Russell did in the 20th century. Here was a man whose curiosity, an unusual virtue, knew no limits. He never stopped asking questions. But he also spent his life answering those questions in a language that ordinary folks like me could understand. The range of issues was enormous: mathematics and philosophy, science and religion, happiness and sex, war and peace, education and politics, and on and on. Reading Russell I felt enlightened. He, however, didn’t stop at the pen’s end.
He fought throughout his life for causes that centred on human life and liberty and he never regretted that he did. He wrote that three passions governed his life: the search for knowledge, unbearable pity for suffering, and a longing for love. Russell “wanted certainty in the kind of way in which people want religious faith”. His biographer so rightly suggests that he found “neither certainty nor faith”. He left us with the message that in the end nothing is absolutely certain. One passes on searching for answers.
Uzma Aslam Khan is the author of The Story of Noble Rot and Trespassing
Oscar Wilde inspired me to write. I was six years old; he painted characters that were flawed, repentant, lonely — refreshingly not childproof. Children recognize nuance. They’re aware of its place in their world. But they also crave magic and fun, and Wilde’s fairy tales covered the range. They awakened me to the tension between fact and fiction. Then I discovered Saint-Exupery’s The Little Prince. When the pilot from earth and the tiny prince from another planet meet, the tension between reality and fantasy is injected with a lovely drama.
The book wonderfully illustrates (and is wonderfully illustrated) the basic human need to make sense of other worlds, through free inquiry. Only in an environment where creative seeds can be freely sown will real intellectual and spiritual flowers grow, as they do between the pilot and the prince.
Virginia Woolf understood better than anyone else the need for such an environment. The main point of A Room of One’s Own — that no woman can flourish intellectually without her own income and personal space — is so simple, yet too outlandish for a country like ours.
Even in our cities, even amongst economically independent women, personal space is seen as a luxury greater than all the gold in all our jewellery shops. (Which is where you’ll find them, in groups!) But Woolf also understood something else: as long as women are denied these necessities, they will continue to write as women. As she put it, “the first great lesson (is to write) as a woman who has forgotten that she is a woman, so that her pages (are) full of that curious sexual quality which comes only when sex is unconscious of itself.” How she would have scorned the categorization of ‘women writers’ so fashionable amongst academicians, writers, publishers, and consumers today!
Maureen Lines is the author of The Kalash People of Northwestern Pakistan and Journey to Jalalabad
When asked this question, two remarkable literary people came to mind — Marianne Pearl and Asne Seierstad. Ultimately, I chose the latter, as her One Hundred and One Days has a universal theme — what war means to the citizens of a country, who are subjected to the horrors of being bombed, constant deprivation and the humiliation of being under an occupying force. Collateral damage, one of the most obscene terms used to describe civilian casualties, is portrayed in all its horror.
Seiertstad is a brilliant and sensitive writer, who does not pontificate but describes compellingly and poignantly of the realities on the ground. This is also her own courageous personal and remarkable story and touches on that of other foreign correspondents in Baghdad.
Iraq is a dangerous place for anyone. Western journalists are at great risk, not only from being kidnapped and beheaded by those who have lost all reason, but from ‘friendly’ fire as Seierstad dramatically describes in the bombing of the Palestine Hotel. Al-Jazeera has been hit by the coalition in Kabul, Basra and in Baghdad. In March, a rescued Italian journalist was wounded by coalition forces and her rescuer killed. Watching the television news, no matter what channel is chosen, only gives one a very limited and slanted view of what is happening.
In this book, the reader feels confident that the writer has written from the heart, with absolute honesty and without being swayed by anyone’s propaganda.
David Maine is the author of The Flood and the forthcoming Fallen
“I get bored sometimes when people tell me to act my age. Sometimes I act a lot older than I am — I really do — but people never notice it. People never notice anything.” Holden Caulfield hates phonies. He hates pretence and hypocrisy of any sort, especially when selfishness masquerades as kindness. He hates adults who don’t listen — which is most of them, most of the time — and children who want nothing more than to repeat the mistakes of their parents. He has tried his best, at age 17, to navigate through the world of adults while maintaining his integrity, and he has failed. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger is the chronicle of his failure.
It’s tempting, but wrong, to say that I like Holden because I’m like Holden. Many things about him are objectionable: he lies, he smokes, he’s laughably unable to cope with ordinary life. But there’s much to admire, too. He loves his sister for her innocence, while failing to recognize the innocence within himself. He extends simple kindness to people who seldom receive it. He is relentlessly skeptical of authority. (Boy, we need that these days.) And he’s very, very funny — his voice, relating the book’s events in a wearily breathless monologue, is easy to absorb but impossible to forget.
I was 16 when I first read this story. It was like listening to a friend chatter on, someone I’d known for a long time. King Lear he ain’t. And that’s just fine.
Hajra Masroor is the author of Hai Allah, Teesri Manzil and Sab Afsaney Merey
Mirza Hadi Ruswa’s Umrao Jan Ada, decidedly the first Urdu novel, is a gripping story of a little girl who is abducted and sold to a high class courtesan who ran a place offering dance and music for the gentry’s entertainment. She also educated and trained little girls who, after they had learned the art of entertainment and achieved the required degree of cultural refinement, were presented to rich patrons. The individual patron could then keep the chosen girl at the “dera” at his cost or take her away.
The narrator of the story is the heroine, Umrao Jan, who has renounced her old life and lives in seclusion. The tale is told with captivating beauty and technical virtuosity. It presents the plain and unvarnished truth of life as lived in the 19th century. The women had no will of their own. The novel comes as a rude reminder that time has stood still for most of our women who are unable even today to order their own life.
In a very touching scene, Umrao visits her mother and all the latter has for her, apart from tears, is the advice to leave at once, for if her brother returned home and found her there he would kill her. Doesn’t that sound quite contemporary?
Dr Muhammad Umar Memon is the editor of the Annual of Urdu Studies
A fascinating character? Zeno, in Margurite Yourcenar’s novel The Abyss
Ritu Menon, a New Delhi-based publisher and editor, is the co-author of Borders & Boundaries: Women in India’s Partition and In a Minority: Essays on Muslim Women in India
Life imitating art, art imitating life; real life and reel life; fact and fiction characters in books that are larger than life, and books about people who are large as life and twice as real! When I read Stages: The Art and Adventures of Zohra Segal, it was hard to tell fact from fiction, the dancer from the dance. What a life, and what a woman. She’s 93 years old now and still acting! Her schedule is probably more hectic than yours or mine, but she still does her voice exercises every morning from 8: 00- 9: 00 am. And very few people know she’s a cancer survivor.
In 1930, when most women were still in purdah (metaphorically and literally), Zohra Apa hitched a ride with her uncle and drove from Lahore to Germany, visiting Haifa, Jerusalem, Gaza, Nazareth, Baalbek, Cairo and dozens of other cities on the way. Talk about adventure! Defying custom and an arranged marriage, she joined Mary Wigman’s Dance School in Dresden — a most unusual choice of career for a young Indian woman.
But then Zohra is nothing if not unusual. From dance to theatre to television and the Big Screen — The Jewel in the Crown, Toba Tek Singh, Bhaji on the Beach Her life and her art are endlessly fascinating, totally inspiring. She supports three generations of women in her immediate family, and is game for just about anything, any time. If only more of us had her courage and spirit, her get-up-and-go!
Choudhri M. Naim is the author of Zikr-i-Mir and Ambiguities of Heritage
One fictional character has always given me much pleasure to meet on the page is Umrao Jan Ada from the book of the same name by Mirza Hadi Ruswa. I fell in love with her as a young student. She was young and innocent, a damsel in distress, and, most importantly, not overly beautiful. Not even fair-skinned! She seemed accessible to an insecure adolescent. Then with time she became pert and coquettish, but only moderately so; her forte was her wit and a fair voice. An ever so desirable a companion for a young man still not quite mindful of what domesticity entails. However, Umrao Jan remained desirable as ever as a confidante even when he in fact became a family man. She was a person who could be brought home and introduced to the missus and the kids without any fear. Her practical ways and easy manners would have won them over, as would have her rare ability to laugh at herself. And now, when I live alone and have seen more years than she had when we first met, I wish she were my neighbour in Chicago. I could listen to her practicing some difficult bandish in the morning, making sure to phone her later to compliment her, while she could come over any odd afternoon with some gajar halva and have a cup of my finest tea. I don’t think she’d have enjoyed my coffee.
Maniza Naqvi is author of Mass Transit and Stay With Me
It’s impossible to narrow it down to just one character but they all seem to have a characteristic in common. Now that I think about it, they all seemed to cherish love and loyalty and on occasion misconstrued it but always pursued it. They include a pig, a spider, a prince, a count, a couple of spies, an architect and some very smart women. There’s Charlotte the spider and Wilbur the pig in Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. And of course there’s Prince Andrei Bolkonsky when I read War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, at 16; Count Pierre Bezukhov, when I read it again at 40, and much memorably Anna Pavlovna hosting her much attended power salon in the opening chapter. There’s Elizabeth Bennett from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen; there’s Pippi Longstocking in her Adventures of Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren and then there’s Amber in the smutty novel called Forever Amber by Kathleen Winsor and Odette in Remembrance of Things Past by Marcel Proust; Yoel Ravid in Amos Oz’s To Know a Woman, and Tim Cranmer in John Le Carre’s Our Game and there’s Rourke in Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead.
Dr Tariq Rahman is the author of Language and Politics in Pakistan and Language, Education and Culture
I am fascinated by many personalities and it is really difficult to decide which takes precedence over the others. For instance, among my favourites is Ghalib whose wit and poetic talent are fascinating. I love to read his poetry for pleasure (Diwan-i-Ghalib). I would have loved writing to him and talking to him had I lived in his age. However, he was excessively concerned with rank in society and wrote poems praising powerful patrons which I find alienating. I am aware that this was the fashion of his time but I somehow want him to transcend the prejudices of his age.
I am equally fascinated by Einstein (D. Brian’s Einstein: A Life). His genius and humanitarian concerns are admirable but his coldness towards his first wife and indifference to his son from that marriage leave me cold.
Another fascinating character is Ramanujan (The Man Who Knew Infinity: A Life of the Genius Ramanujan by Robert Kanigel). He was a poor South Indian boy whose genius in mathematics caught the attention of Professor Hardy at Cambridge. Hardy was one of the great mathematicians of his time and he invited Ramanajan to Cambridge where they worked together on abstruse mathematical problems purely because of the genuine pleasure they derived from mathematics. But Ramanajan caught tuberculosis and was a dying man when he returned to India. Like the Romantic poets Chatterton and Keats he died young. I am fascinated by this genius but I do not know enough about him to decide whether I would have enjoyed his company or not.
In short, there is no one personality I found both congenial and fascinating. Of course, one of the criteria I use is whether I would have got along with him as a human being and this eliminates all those people about whom I do not have enough information to determine that or those whose language I cannot speak or whose time is so remote from mine that I cannot relate to it.
Sehba Sarwar is the author of Black Wings
I love all of Toni Morrison’s novels, especially because her female characters are so riveting. One of her most memorable protagonists is Pilate in Song of Solomon. In the novel, Pilate is a powerful force who is almost supernatural because she was born without a navel. She is treated as a witch by those around her but she remains fearless and takes on different struggles: she helps the main protagonist Milkman, her nephew, as he struggles through life and marriage and when a man physically hurts her daughter, Reba, Pilate brings a knife close to his heart and persuades him never to touch her daughter again. Pilate also has endless love to give her family members and weak characters like Milkman know that they can always go to her for help.
Like all of Morrison’s novels, Song of Solomon, directly confronts racism through all her characters including Pilate, who sings songs to connect her African history to the present time. I read Song of Solomon a long time ago and though I’ve forgotten the overall plot of the novel, Pilate’s character resonates in my memory.
Kamila Shamsie is the author of Kartography and Broken Verses
The most fascinating character? Clara Dickens in The English Patient and In the Skin of a Lion by Michael Ondaatje.
Near the end of Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient the character Hana writes a letter to her step-mother, Clara, and says, of Clara’s decision to stay out of the war: “How were you not fooled like the rest of us? You, that demon for pleasure who became so wise.”
When I first read the book this figure of Clara seemed a fascinating shadow. We never see her — and yet she is the heroine of the book simply because (in this, the finest anti-war book I’ve ever read) she is the only one to completely step back from the whole notion of war. So it was with some delight that, a couple of years later, I read Ondaatje’s In the Skin of a Lion which was written prior to The English Patient and has some of the same characters, including Clara. But the Clara of In the Skin of a Lion is a younger woman than the one to whom Hana writes — she is, when we meet her, “that demon for pleasure” with no particular sign of wisdom.
The question I kept asking myself as I read through In the Skin of a Lion — the question that makes her so fascinating for me — was what happens to turn the Clara of this book into the Clara of the next book? How is it that the woman who is not the heroine of In the Skin of a Lion (that role goes to Clara’s friend, Alice) should become, just a few years later, in Hana’s words, “the purest among us, the darkest beam, the greenest leaf”?
Muneeza Shamsie is the editor of A Dragonfly in The Sun: An Anthology of Pakistani Writing in English and the forthcoming And The World Changed: English Stories by Pakistani Women Writers
Edward James has been an enigma and mystery to me always. He was an eccentric American millionaire, who lived in Mexico, owned many spectacular paintings by Dali, Magritte and Picasso and was said to be the illegitimate son of Edward VII. His Sussex home, West Dean, had been converted into our school.
I was riveted by his 1982 memoir Swans Reflecting Elephants: My Early Years edited by George Melly, based on taped interviews, which told of a sad lonely life interwoven with wonderful salacious gems about the rich and famous. He claimed his mother was the illegitimate daughter of Edward VII, Henry James a cousin, and the James’ wealth was ‘Old’ (American timber and railways), but his father died when he was five. His mother and sisters terrorized him, prep school was a trauma, Eton a disaster, Oxford a misery; his marriage to ballerina Tilly Losch, a long heartache.
In 1991 Edward James: A Surrealist Life by John Lowe challenged “Melly’s book” and stated James had wept with anger when he saw it. The bizarre James had fed Melly “fabrications” which Melly believed. Lowe drew on archives to assert there was no royal blood, no connection to Henry James, no predatory female monsters whether mother, sisters or wife, no ‘old American’ money, but yes, undoubted wealth, great unhappiness and a love of nature and art, which led to the creation of famous architectural follies in the Mexican jungle. Nevertheless, Lowe’s book is very boring, while Melly’s attained a mesmerizing, memorable, psychological truth. Therein lies the nature of art and storytelling
Bina Shah is the author of Where They Dream in Blue and The 786 Cybercafe
The type of character that fascinates me the most in books that I read is usually “the villain” of the piece. But “the villain” is never just “a villain”, that is to say that he or she is not an evil monster, a figure in black, a witch who drives all to destruction. More often, this person is someone who is not likeable, does bad deeds, hurts, frustrates, and annoys the people around him, but the character is drawn so beautifully and with such complexity that hatred is too simple a word for the emotions that these “villains” stir in me.
The villain cannot be a black and white creation, like Fagin in Dickens’ Oliver Twist, or Heathcliffe from Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. Think instead of Humbert Humbert from Lolita by Nabakov or Mildred in Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham. These are characters that have as many facets to their personalities as a finely-cut diamond has surfaces. They draw both love and hatred from the protagonists of the novels they are in. They are deeply flawed, deeply dysfunctional, and deeply frustrating characters to deal with. But in the end, they are the characters that really make me stay up at night in bed and think endlessly about why they did what they did and why they are the way they are, and how did they get to be that way? And most importantly, what would Freud say about them?
Bapsi Sidhwa is author of Ice-Candy-Man and An American Brat
Anna, in Tolstoy’s wonderful novel, Anna Karinina, is one of my favourite fictional characters. I love her for her beauty, her sophistication and the passion that slowly consumes her and brings us face to face with the vulnerability all of us as women share and can empathize with. Tolstoy has an uncanny insight into the nature of women and in creating her character with compassion has given us an unforgettable and vivid portrait of a complex woman trapped in the mores of her time.
Dr Muhammad Ali Siddiqui is the author of Tawazun, Sir Syed Ahmed Khan and Talash-i-Iqbal
Quite an interesting exercise. Ordinarily it would have been regarded as a difficult question. Confining myself to Urdu literature I think that there are scores of characters in Urdu fiction which have interested me but Champa Ahmed of Qurratulain Hyder’s novel, Aag Ka Darya, has captivated my attention more than anyone else.
May be it is my interest in the history of the subcontinent and Ms Hyder’s equally masterly portayal of Champa Ahmed that helped me select her. Champa Ahmed’s character has been delineated with a remarkable sensitivity. As details are all important, the author has said everything she wanted to say through Champa Ahmed. Believing that the writer speaks through his or her characters — and not through one alone — any specific character would be understood in relation to the whole web of personalities depicted in a book.
Champa Ahmed is a highly interesting person who is present in all the four phases of the novel. In the ancient Hindu period she is Champak, who is seen taking part in intellectual discussions on the philosophy of renunciation and self-abnegation. She is a good dancer and loves Gautum intensely but leads a miserable life when married to an old Brahmin against her will.
In the second period — the Muslim era — she is Champavati and loves an Arab visitor to India, Abdul Mansoor Kemaluddin. Abdul Mansoor goes to war and vanishes. Champavati has to wander from pillar to post to find him, but she fails.
In the third stage she is Champa Bai of Lucknow, a dancing girl, and leads a life only to protest her individuality. In the final stage she is Champa Ahmed, a girl of the Muslim middle class. She goes to the UK for higher education. She is in a group which has lost the ability to communicate with one another.
Finally she ends up highly disgusted, finding no one to communicate with. This is the character who longs for someone with whom she can communicate. Finally she decides to take control of her destiny and becomes a working girl.
What a character she is!
Khushwant Singh is the author of
Zorba the Greek by Kazantakis. Zorba is a rough, uncouth, down to earth yokel who is a compulsive womanizer women find irresistible. He scores over his sophisticated, gentlemanly rivals. He has everything I wanted as a young man. Alas! I ended up by being a polished effete male with an abysmally poor record of success with women; they found me a wishy washy, unattractive, good-for-nothing male. Zorba remains my exemplar of a manly man.
Rahul Singh, a Mumbai-based writer and journalist, is the author of Khushwant Singh: In the Name of the Father
Many characters from real life are often much more fascinating than those taken from fiction. Remember what became known as the “Royal Massacre” which took place in Nepal, almost four years ago? The crown prince, Dipendra, just 30 years old, apparently went berserk, after a cocktail of drugs and drink, and got into a shooting spree, killing his father and mother, the King and Queen of the country, and many others of the royal family. He then supposedly shot himself. Why? Nobody really knows, except that his parents were opposed to him marrying a girl he was in love with.
There is more to the mystery. The bullet with which he shot himself, entered the left side of his head. But he was not left-handed. And the way he went about shooting everybody was not in a drunken and drugged stupor. He did it after changing his clothes, putting on gloves (why again?), carefully choosing the weapons and then going about the job systematically. The other strange thing about the tragedy is that his uncle and aunt, who became King and Queen, were not on the scene and their son was — but somehow survived. A whole host of conspiracy theories have been spun around all these mysterious coincidences.
Manjushree Thapa, the daughter of the former Nepali ambassador to India, happened to be in Kathmandu when the massacre took place. She is a gifted writer and has just written a book, Forget Kathmandu, which analyzes the massacre and its aftermath. It came out just when the new King, Gyanendra Bir Bikram Shah, dismissed the elected government and assumed total power. The tragic Prince, Dipendra, does figure in Thapa’s excellent book but how I wish she had analyzed him at greater length, if indeed he was the main perpetrator of the massacre. Royalty, love, death, patricide, suicide, mystery: what more can a writer, of fiction or non-fiction, want?
Dr Sher Zaman Taizi is the author of Gul Khan and Amanat
My most fascinating personality is Rahman Baba (1651-1710) who lived in the twilight era of the Mughal empire in India. In that chaotic era, he composed poetry which had such a soothing effect that it still soothes and charms the tired mind of the Pakhtoons. Only recently Robert Sampson from the US (with co-author Momin Khan from Swat) has translated the entire Diwan of Rahman Baba.
Rahman Baba has set a unique trend. He expresses intricate ideas related to mysticism and moral values in simple, fluent and musical diction with a touch of realism. Some of his verses have become proverbs in Pushto. Take for instance the following:
The past is just like the dead in the grave;
Who, by weeping, has brought the dead back to life!
The water, passed through the breach, does not return;
The past does not come back!
Grow flowers to make your environment flowery;
Don’t sow thorns, lest they should prick your feet.
If the bride is not pretty herself;
What’s the use of prettiness of her mother and grandmother?
S. Akbar Zaidi is the author of Issues in Pakistan’s Economy, a revised and expanded edition of which is forthcoming
In the sort of work that I do, most of my reading is in and of the social sciences. I read at least a book a week, sometimes two, on/in political economy and more recently, on South Asian history of the late 19th century. I also read fiction perhaps a book a month, and although I have enjoyed numerous books, cannot think of a character that has fascinated me enough to write about it.
Although I almost never read biography — I may have read all of five biographies — the real life character that continues to fascinate me, based on a biography of his, is (and apologies if this sounds a little trite) V.I. Lenin. I bought large parts of the complete works of Marx and Engels and those by Lenin in 1986, published by Progress Publishers in Moscow, at a ridiculous price. I think it is very possible that I picked up Lenin’s biography then. In the true collective and Party tradition of that era, there is no author of the book which was prepared by the (now very defunct) Institute of Marxism-Leninism of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, first published in the Russian in 1965 and in English in 1983. Although I admired Marx and particularly, Hegel, for their intellectual insight and brilliance, perhaps more than Lenin, what I admired most about Lenin was his ability to be an intellectual and an activist at the same time.
What fascinated me most about this towering figure of the 20th century, was his political and intellectual views put into practice leading the Russian people towards a socialist revolution. I was amazed at Lenin’s ability to write tomes and tracts, both of an intellectual and theoretical nature, as well as political pamphlets, while he was organizing a massive political uprising. I was highly inspired by this biography of Lenin’s, and ended up soon after, buying one on Marx from the same publishers which was not as good.
Though the socialist revolution came undone after merely seventy years, its influence on the world of ideas cannot be denied and its legacy still prevails in many forms. While I do not subscribe to many of the ideas I did when I was reading this biography of Lenin’s, I am still amazed by his ability to be an intellectual, tactician and political mobilizer, all at the same time.
Niaz Zaman who is Professor, department of English, University of Dhaka and literary editor of New Age is also the author of A Celebration of Women and her edition of Makbula Manzoor’s The Vultures are Everywhere.
The character that I have admired since I first read the play by Sophocles 40 years ago is the titular character Antigone. Before the play begins, her two brothers have fought each other and been killed. Her uncle and father-in-law to be, King Creon, decrees that one brother, Polynices, is not to be buried. To Antigone the fact that her brother is a traitor does not matter. To the Greeks, unless a dead person’s burial rites were performed, the dead would not find peace. To Antigone divine law is superior to man’s law and she defies Creon’s order to bury her brother. She is caught and sentenced by Creon to be buried alive.
In the tragic catastrophe, Haemon, her bethrothed, kills himself as does his mother Eurydice. Creon is left alone. I admire Antigone’s courage to defy the patriarch, her uncle and father-in-law to be who is also the ruler of Thebes. Her sister Ismene is a gentle woman. She loves her sister but does not have the courage to do what is right. Antigone, however, will do what she believes is right even though she has to do it alone. The Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore said, “Tomar dak shuney jodi keyu na ashey, tobey ekla chalo rey.” (If no one listens to your call, go ahead on your own). Antigone believes in what is right and does it — even thought she knows that doing it might be fatal. That courage is what I have always admired in Antigone.
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