Khayalon Ki Art Gallery
By Sanober Nazir
Book Corner
ISBN: 978-969-662-575-9
303pp.

I was very touched when I was gifted a copy of Khayalon Ki Art Gallery and asked to review it. In my humble opinion, Sanober Nazir’s musings are both brutally honest and reflective of the society we live in and what shapes it.

It is a collection of short stories, essays and articles, both fiction and non-fiction. There are some bravely written ‘self-portraits’, such as the one about becoming a mother for the third time and the deep-rooted twinge that she might be carrying a girl and how she must get rid of it.

Other stories include subjects such as menopause and its effects on women and their own self-worth and sexuality, as well as children with learning disabilities. It takes a tremendous amount of courage to face the world with one’s own inadequacies and fears and share them with the thought that it might help other women dealing with their own demons.

You also get an intimate look at a failed marriage, which had a promising start. The common ground of shared passions, dance and music, the very traits that brought them together, slowly drawing the couple apart, and eventually earning the wife the label of a ‘kharab aurat’ [bad woman]. A man ‘gaslighting’ his wife, slowly driving her mad. These stories are embedded in reality, revealing many shades of why marriages fail, and how women lose their bearings.

A collection of short stories, essays and reflections force one to ponder the harsh realities of life and the resilience required from certain people

There are also accounts difficult to stomach; better forgotten, yet told in a matter-of-fact way, which force you to face the harsh truth. Four short sketches on abductions, forced conversions and murder results in ‘Hindu Larrkay Kyun Mohabbat Nahi Kartay?’ [Why Don’t Hindu Boys Fall In Love?].

“This is the real story of four Hindu women…” writes Sanober. “This country needs laws to protect its minorities, who are denied their basic rights… You can, without doubt, pass numerous laws but, if they won’t be implemented, they will remain meaningless. If justice will be doled out by brainwashed men, then our patriarchal system will satiate its appetite earning ‘sawaab’ [blessings]… The question is, why do Hindu women love Muslim men? And why don’t Hindu men fall in love.”

You have ruminations of times gone by, early memories of growing up in Karachi and Lahore, in ‘Dilli Darwaza aur Mithu Mian Ki Halwa Puri’ [Delhi Gate and Mithu Mian’s Halwa Puri]. There is also Generation Z questioning the changing value systems and norms and how to bridge the gap. This gallery houses all creatures great and small, with equal empathy, love and respect.

‘Bab’bu’ is a personal account of Sanober’s relationship with her dog. Any dog-lover will vouch for her authenticity in telling the tale. “Ever since I was little, I had heard that angels don’t enter homes which house dogs. I am not certain whether angels enter my house or not… However, I know for a fact that ever since Bab’bu entered our home, certain unsavoury characters began to distance themselves and, in their stead, friends with angelic qualities began to become a part of our lives.”

This leads me to a particularly harrowing story called ‘Ali Baig Ka Chaman Aur Metamorphosis’ [Ali Baig’s Park and Metamorphosis]. It is about a man from Chitral. He is unkempt and referred to as a simpleton at the park, which he calls “chaman”. He has taken upon himself to feed all the stray animals and birds there home-cooked meals twice a day. He often sits with them and reads his favourite story, Kafka’s Metamorphosis, which makes him weep copiously. Then a video goes viral, which transforms Ali Baig’s life into a living hell.

This book is a smorgasbord of truths and realities, some delectable and easy to swallow, some harsh and indigestible. But, most importantly, Sanober questions the existing class system, which informs our present notions of patriarchy, feminism and our set of beliefs. It is a class system that allows both women and men as well as institutions equally to commit the most heinous acts against the underprivileged. This is an important conversation waiting to happen.

Sanober writes without any rancour or malice but some of her bold strokes jar and stab and make you think of how suddenly the ‘patriarchal system’ becomes a sheltering wing for the most abominable crimes to take place, such as women employing underage children and then bashing their brains out literally, or a feudal wife procuring poor girls to satiate diseased male desires.

Other pieces talk of entitled rich girls and boys brutalising, beheading, lesser mortals from the safety of privileged positions, where clearly the law cannot touch them. And last but not the least, there is the food delivery rider, who jumps to his death from a third-floor apartment when the owner opens the door only to let an unleashed ferocious dog out to greet him.

Sanober writes with the eye of a journalist, ruthlessly recording what she observes, and the subtext is more than clear. In a society muddled beyond belief, with a mishmash of colonial and religious laws and a patchwork of confused ideologies borrowed from other cultures remotely not resembling ours, it is only natural that we then end up imbibing them and turning into what we have become today.

She is only too aware that women in our country are mostly at the receiving end. Yet there is a candid dialogue regarding the ‘class system’ and its impact on every single institution in this country, be it the home or the government. Sanober’s work cannot be classified and given a label of any ‘ism.’

I suggest you walk through this gallery, which houses life size portraits, bold brush strokes, some sketches, and perhaps, just by chance, you might find a reflection of yourself.

I would like to end here with a short prayer by poet Kishwar Naheed, which she has written in Urdu in praise of this book: “All these writings are proof of a sure hand, sometimes she speaks to Maupassant or to Michelangelo. The different topics chosen by Sanober are like buds of the butterfly ash tree. When you read them, and they remind you of other writers, then pray that she continues to write.”

The reviewer is an Urdu to English translator

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, January 19th, 2025

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