And culture continues...

(Despite immigrants continue to move toward west, their values continue to haunt many of their new relationships. A simple story  - with my gulabi english translation below).

From uncle Saugoree Urdu blog 

میرے ایک عزیز دوست جگ بیتی او آپ بیتی  'کہانیاں' لکھتے ہیں   میں اکثر ان سے متاثّر ہوتا ہوں کبھی کبھی مجھے بھی ایسا لکھنے کا خیال آتا ہے

عرصہ ہوا میں اس وقت انگلستان میں کام کر رہا تھا اس وقت وہاں ہسپتالوں کی گروپینگ اور قسم کی تھی خیر ہمارے

 گرپ کے تمام ہندوستانی اور پاکستانی کسی اتوار کو اکٹّے ہو جاتے اور خوب محفل جمتی چنانچہ اس طرح ہم سب ایک دوسرے سے واقف ہوجاتے تھے اسی زمانے کا ذکر ہے ہمارے گروپ میں ایک نئ ہندوساتی ہائوس فزیشن آئ بڑی سیدھی سادی لڑکی تھی ہمارے سینئر لڑکوں میں ایک صاحب جو مسلمان تھے انھیں وہ لڑکی پسند آئ۔ وہ بھی سیدھے سادھے مسلمان پاکستانی تھے لڑکی کی ایک بات یاد ہے کہ اس کے وارڈ میں ایک سٹروک کا مریض داخل ہوا بچاری پریشان تھی کیا کرے کس طرح اس کی مدد کرے ساری رات اس کے سرہانے بیٹھی سوچتی رہی اور جو اس کی ضروریات تھی نرس کی طرح کرتی رہی  - اب ممکن ہے اس میں کچھ  'ذیب داستاں کے لئے کچھ بڑھا' بھی دیا گیا ہو مگر قارئین کو اس کی سادگی سمجھ آگئ ہو گی  ہوتے ہوتے ان دونوں میں - یعنی جن پاکستانی صاحب کا ذکر کیا ہے ان میں باقاعدہ محبت ہوگئ شادی کی بات چلی  دہلی میں اس کے گھر والے نہ مانے اور پاکستان میں ان کے گھر والے تیار نہ ہوئے اب یہ مجھے یاد نہیں کہ لڑکی نے ہندو سے مسلمان ہونے کا ذکر کیا تھا یا نہیں

 ممکن ہے اور بھی ایسے وقعات ہوتے رہتے ہیں ان میں کچھ اور اسباب ہوتے ہوں لیکن اکثر ایسا دیکھنے میں آتا ہے کہ محبت کو قربان کر دیا جاتا ہے میں یہ ان مغربی ممالک کی بات کر رہا ہوں اور پڑھے لکھے ہوشمند انسانوں کا لکھ رہا ہوں .

پاکستان میں جو کچھ ہوتا ہے اس کا ذکر نہیں کر رہا ہوں

One of my good friends writes autobiographies and other people's biographies. Many times I get impressed by him, and I think of writing biographies as well.

A long time ago, when I worked in England, we had different kind of groupings, and in our group, most of the people were either Indians or Pakistanis. We used to get together on Sundays, and have a good party. That's how we got to know each other better. Then, there comes a new girl from India, who was a house physician, and a very simple girl. One of our senior boys, who was Muslim, started to like that girl. The guy was also a very simple man. The girl was so simple that I remember once in her ward, there was a patient with stroke. She was new and was confused, and didn't know how to help that patient. All night, she stayed on the patient's bedside thinking, and helping the patient just like a nurse does. It's possible that, for storytelling, I may be exaggerating a little bit, but the reader should know, how simple that girl was. 

Over time, they both, meaning the Pakistani guy I described above, and the girl formally fell in love, and wanted to get married. Unfortunately, the girl's family in Delhi, India, and the boy's family in Pakistan, didn’t accept the relationship. I don't exactly remember whether the girl agreed to convert from Hinduism to Islam, but nevertheless, the marriage didn't happen. It's very much possible that these sort of events happen regularly. There may be other factors involved, but frequently we see that love gets sacrificed. And, I am talking about educated and intelligent people in the Western world, not people back home in Pakistan! 

 [And, that surprises me a lot.]

To Be With Her!

So I read this new novel from American-Pakistani author Syed Afzal Haider - "To Be With Her".

From 'creative writing' standard and in comparing it to other authors in same genre like Rohintan Mistry, Jhumpa Lahiri, Arundhta Roy, Mohsin Hamid, Moazzam Sheikh, Khaled Hosseini etc., this novel is far less to reach any standard - But still I think it is an essential read for FOBs like me as it deals with psychological dilemma presented to people like me who travel to 'perdes'. For me it was interesting for 2 reasons as central plot evolves in Karachi and Chicago and these are the two same cities I spend good time of my life so all the streets and train stations described seems to me like its my own story. Also in fact, it appears to be a semi-autobiography of author himself.

Story revolves around a central character by the name of Ramzan Pervez Malik who migrates with his family in 1947 from India to Karachi at tender age of 8. He is perfect hero type boy who is good in studies, plays perfect cricket and romantic at heart. He falls in love with a girl from an elite class. Similar desi movie kind storyline where 'zalim samaj' comes in between but they both vow to marry once he returns from USA after studies. Hero's travel to USA via ship line has been described very eloquently as well as his culture shock in USA has been described very finely. So he fall in love again to an American girl named Sabina. At the end he returns to Karachi to tell his parents about his new love. Leila let her go and he returns to USA to live happily ever after with Sabina.

I loved some bitter, harsh and crude sarcasm about both cultures - written in a very pungent way. At many places I could not stop laughing. But novel become a drag with long lengthy and never ending love letters of romantic characters. Also, novel is full with over reporting of Hollywood movies.

Theme of novel can be concise in these words: "..........and I 've already left home more than once. I'm always going to be half empty. The change, the exile, my action, is not an isolated happening; it has affected every facet of my existence.......(and)...It is strange to be a stranger in your own land...(and)....I recall the story of a King who died in exile. He willed that his body be cremated but that his heart be removed from his body and returned for burial in the land of his birth......"

Year's End by Jhumpa Lahiri

Jhumpa Lahiri remained one of my most favourite short story writer from second generation American-Indians. When I started reading her last collection of short stories "Unaccustomed Earth" I felt like she has lost touch but when I reached her story "Year's End" I found same old Jhumpa Lahiri who touches the depth of human emotions and psychology. What attached me to her writings are her characters of Desi Origin. I see my kids growing up in this country. I see myself in her stories.

"Year's End" is a story of a young semi-ABCD Bengali boy named Kaushik. His mother died of breast cancer and he internalized that sorrow. Now his father gets married to another woman, brought from back home and he suddenly end up in a house with 2 step-sisters. His hidden anger towards his father and her new mother but simultaneously his affection towards 2 girls is well described. Suddenly he blew out one evening and left home - that night change him forever and how he remained lost till his death (which is actually in another story).

With his father: "We were stating facts and at the same time arguing, an argument whose depths only he and I could fully comprehend"

With Girls: "I sensed that they needed me to guard them, as I needed them, from the growing, incontrovertible fact that Chitra and my father now formed a couple. My presence was proof that my mother had once existed, just as they represented the physical legacy of their dead father.......They never spoke of their own father, but one night I woke up to the sound of Piu
screaming, locked inside a nightmare, asking for her Baba again and again".

At the end when he had last meaningful conversation with his father (like losing his father too): "And without our having to say it, I knew we were both thankful to Chitra for chafing under whatever lingered of my mother's spirit in the place she has last called home and for forcing us to shut its doors".

Pakistani Larki

I have short hair with blonde highlights. My accent is pure american. I wear Jeans and T shirts. I hang out with "gora bachhas". Most of my collection is of english songs. I watch american football. Yes I do puff cigrettes and get drunk with beers in dorm parties.

Magar kubhi kubhi mera bhi dil kerta hai ke kisi desi dhabe pe khare ho kar pani puri khauN. Eid pe haatoN pe Mehndi lagauN aur bhare bhare duppatte wala shalwar kameez pahenuN. Ab bhi jub abbu 'youtube' pe Mehdi hasan sunte hain to mere pauN computer ke paas jum jaate hain aur mere dil ki dharkanaiN tez ho jaati hain. Main ne Lahore chora to saat (seven) baras ki thi magar ab bhi dil kerta hai ke ur (fly) ke Rabia khala ke aangan main paunch jaun aur aankh macholi khelun....

Ooper se hum ABCD lurkian kitni hi angrez nazar aa'ain magar hamare andar ki Pakistani lurki kubhi nahi marti!!