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September 10, 2006
Mirroring life
LITERATURE, as the term is commonly understood, is an indispensable discipline in the education of a nation. It tells a story and, in turn, teaches without being self-righteous, so much so that what you will never assimilate and concile with from a treatise of plain instruction and dogma, you will happily embrace if presented as an allegory, a parable, even a simple fairy tale. Therefore, the most long-lasting and far-reaching of ideas have mostly been passed on from generation to generation in terms of stories and parables. It is exactly for this purpose that one should demand for literature in a manner that mirrors life. This not only augments legitimacy and adds meaning to literature, but at the same time educates readers. It is this realism that we so prize and value in writers such as Saadat Hasan Manto and Bano Qudsia who have exposed subjects always considered taboo by the Pakistani society.
Thus, it is surprising that books carrying the best literature produced by a country are being subjected to criticism of the most absurd kind. One such book is Pakistani Kahanian: Pakistani Afsane ke Pachas Saal, compiled and edited by Intizar Hussain and Asif Farrukhi, and first published in 2000 by Sang-e-Meel. This book, said to contain “explicit” material, was prescribed by the Cambridge Board for the O-level Urdu Literature course at the end of 2002. However, the editors had not been consulted with regard to this decision of introducing the book in the syllabus. When asked as to why the editors were neither consulted nor informed about the prescription of their book, a Cambridge International Examinations (CIE) official, who chose to remain anonymous, said, “Cambridge offers many syllabi and it would be impossible for us to contact every publisher and writer of the wide and varied range of texts we use.”
With the introduction of the aforementioned book in the course, the foremost criticism came from parents who objected to the contents of some of the short stories being obscene and promiscuous with inappropriate vocabulary. Teachers from one of the schools, when asked what they thought about the book, did not seem in favour of it and said the book was “not suitable for classroom teaching”. In this regard, some of the teachers had a meeting with Asif Farrukhi. Supposedly, however, the teachers then, through the British Council, requested the Cambridge Board to edit the book and a second edition, titled Pakistani Kahanian, was published in which seven stories — including Manto’s “Khol Dou”, undoubtedly a ground-breaking story on women’s exploitation — which was part of the original edition, were not included in the new one published by Caravan Book House, Lahore, in 2005.
Interestingly enough, even this time the editors had not been informed, let alone consulted when the decision to edit the Sang-e-Meel version was taken. However, when asked if the Caravan version was suitable for classroom teaching, teachers were of the opinion that “the book has three types of stories: those based on events, feelings or simple narratives, symbolic stories and abstract stories such as ‘Mughal Sarai’ and ‘Hazaar Paya’. Some of these stories are appropriate for classroom teaching, including those translated from regional languages. The abstract stories, however, were difficult to understand.” Teachers also found the language in the book “a bit careless here and there. For classroom teaching, texts that do not have any foul language should be picked.” However, when students were asked what they thought about the second edition, some said: “As far as the burden of the course is concerned the decision is okay, but if the book has been taken out because of the content, then it’s an unfair decision. If we were given a choice we would read it as it is, without any changes,” whereas some thought the expression was too bold for them. Many teachers feel the book focuses only on society’s “negative aspects”, especially stories about traditions. The positive aspects of society, as many feel, are not referred to in the stories, let alone appreciated: “The syllabus should be balanced so that the students are not left disillusioned,” points out one teacher. However, what can be more positive and heartening than the fact that the criticism of a society, and very legitimate criticism at that, is coming from within. Many teachers also think their students are not old enough to understand the symbolism presented in these tales. When Asif Farrukhi was asked if he thought the stories could be understood by 16 and 17-year-old students, he said they “should not be treated like overgrown babies to be pampered with mollycoddling only. They must be treated like the people of their age and what they study must be reflective of the world they see around them.” Similarly, Tariq Rahman, an expert on language, feels that “the censoring mind won another victory; literature was defeated” when these stories were deemed unsuitable. The offending book has been banned in all schools around Pakistan.
The strange thing though is that this book was not even designed for classroom teaching. It was fundamentally meant to be a “library book”. In a letter published in Dawn on the subject sometime ago, Asif Farrukhi wrote: “We have also been ill-served by the Board concerned or education authorities or whoever is responsible for including the book in their curriculum without consulting or even informing the editors. They did not even bother to read the introduction which explains that this anthology was meant for the general reader of fiction. It was not designed to be taught in schools.” Regarding the selection of the book in the first place however, the CIE official said “when deciding the final text to use, we look at a number of criteria including whether it is accessible to students, does it lend itself to exam questions, does it have depth, is it an enjoyable read, is it suitable for students of certain ages and is it widely recognised as literature.” Besides all this, a few other publishers published modified versions of the book without seeking permission from its editors. So the question is, was introducing the book in the curriculum, after all, a mistake? Perhaps not. But banning the book was very probably not the answer. Absurdly enough, even the ban is not properly explained. As Mr Farrukhi aptly puts it, no one has pointed out whether the book is “inappropriate for the students or for the people of Pakistan”. In this regard the CIE official said “our top priority is our students and we have the met the demand for an alternative which a majority of people seem comfortable with.”
Thus, for now, the alternative is Altaf Fatima’s novel Dastak Na Do. At this point, one can’t help but wonder whether it is better to have a collection of short stories and poems written by different people from different parts of the country, providing diverse views and styles of writing, or a novel presenting one point of view? Coming back to the idea proposed at the beginning of this piece, shirking from that which mirrors life is never a good idea, because literature at its best is a medium of confrontation and acceptance, not of escapism and denial. Societies that choose to prohibit an honest analysis of such works end up perpetuating a blind acceptance of norms and slowly turning into passive communities. After all, if we don’t have a mirror to gaze into, how else will we know what we are turning out to be?
The writers are freelance contributors
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