Shouts of colour whispers of gloom
M. Salim-ur-Rahman

The Friday Times May 15-21, 1998

GHUSSAY ΚΙ ΝΑΙ FASL
by Asad Muhammad Khan
Published by Kutub Khana paperback se ries. Aaj Ki Kitahen, Karachi, Pp. 240 R:90
ISHTIHAR AADMI by Muhammad Asim Butt
Published by Fiction House, Lahore, P. 112 R 90
is nearly imponaible not to enjoy Asad Muhammad Khan’s pyrotechni cal fiction. Brilliant and effervescent an effiuntless way, it makes an ef fective use of characters, situations, images ima and diction. The dialogue sparkles. He is writer with a pronounced sense of drama. The stories unwind, frame by frame, with cmematic clarity
Ualike some writers whose first novel or collection of stories stories is is their their best t and what they do afterwards is either a rehash or an uninterrupted decline, Asad Muhammad Khan seems to improve with age. His latest collection of short stories, reminiscences and a handful of translation is possibly his best so far le any case, it can’t suffer by compari sun with his earlier efforts. But even better things may be in the offing. He is said to be a novel. If it turns out to be as working good as some of the stories on offer here, w would be in for a treat
strong sense These plaudits plaudits wide wide, v what he atually uying in show to us? Не of mality His keen observation and his ear for dialogue would bear this out. But be doesn’t reproduce the world as if with a sharply focused lens. What we observe is half-animatest version of mality, where it is always simple to tell the photographs apart from the colourful drawings. It is a chi merical view, a little impish also, in which mockery in step with warm-heartedness. Rather paradoxical all this, at first I all this, at first sight. Yet matter how ludicrous or villainous the people, they am homas also, a fact which rately escapes Asad’s attention. Underneuth the mockery, the laughter and the strange an imation, there is a deep calm, perhaps of for giveness. He knows that He knows that in the last analysis are all uncomfortable in our self-created orphanages, waiting, often subconsciously, so be loved, to be needed and wanted.
Kirin finds At least two stories Circar ki Sadah si Ka honi and Wagai Nigar have symbolic ramifi Nigar have sym cations. For all his cleverness, Asad Muham difficult in avoid transparency or particularity so far as his symbolic intent is concerned. Nevertheless, he adroitty conveys an anguish which seems contemporary and familiar. The lack of am biguity is a depleting factor. The characters irapped in an intrigue or mystery which is squalid and debasing and can’t find a way out. They, like most of us, know what is hap pening but are hard put to explain why it is happening and who can be uhimately held responsible for it. If, at most, we can reason the whrys, the who remains inscrutable. for the simple reason that the impossible-to-is ourselves. By assuming that the mystery Ties outside, in uthers, we never solve it. Of the two, the story shout the cir hetter, satirizing Pakistan’s feodal
onds, venal politicions and power grabbers. same other stories he implies that there persons who only act out roles they have assumed for themselves. Disenchanted with their own bumdrum rum lives lives they strike a pose which, they believe, would appeal to others, would either intrigse or annoy them. But Tie-ing out an unfamiliar role can have unimend
غصے کی نئی فضل
اسد در قال
in Hitler, Sher nil tragic consequences, Ka Bachcha, where a good-natured prison er’s clowning leads him into an impasse which costs him his life. Clown or no clown, when the crunch contes he doesn’ linch From taking a grave risk. The moment he stops acting and makes an existentialistic choice he is shut doal.
There is one y here, The Saloon, deep-rooted in a panicular cultural cibos to be virtually mystifying to outsiders. A down to earth wrestler comes close in death because his Sheikh is displeased with him It is unlike a sui masier to behave like this but he wants to teach the wrestler in impor tant lesson, that everyone, regardless of caste, creed of class, regardless of whether he or she is a good person or not, is worthy of our loving attention. C the lesson is learnt the crisis vanishes
The must refreshing purn of the book is his historical or what is in fact quasi historical fiction. No one else in Urdo writes quite in this vein. The stories are set in the era of the Pathan kings. Ile is not bochered by historical exactaude, though daresay that the details in general conform to facts and the total effect throughout is one of miniature-like scintillance fie more interested in creating a vivid and mose whereabout and give his imaginatice free win. Ghurmy ki Nai Forl is excel lent piece of writing with a remarkable wi at the end hur Fk Sonjida Detektiv latory is sensational stuff. It must be read in order to savour fully its haunting atmosphere and minatory posture
Toofan Kay Markaz men, an eccentric reminiscence, chronicles the various phases of Karachi’s history and the city’s fall from grace, as observed from a very personal point of view. Touching in the exurme and very readable. It would be only fair to point out that the production valves of the book ant excellent. It is almose error-free. At least ane publisher in Urdu is knowledgeable about punctiation and sees to it that the proofs are read with great care.
The work of Muhammad Asim Butt, a young writer who has just made this mark, occupies the other end of the spectrum, the characters, more often than not, wrapped up in a hushed lonesomeness. Whether ingeih-er or alone, they always seen to be stepping into on walking of a dream-like se quence, unsure of the nature of their experi ence. Is the reality they fare through more of a dream or more aptly a nightmare? The distinction is invariably a little hiurrest clear-cut perimeters can be established.
Nothing new hem, one might be tempted to think. The issues of alienation, the lonely crowd, the dehumanizing metropolis, the loss of identity or hops, ruodessness, the imposi hility of communication, the huzards of ublishing close relationships, have been, as most of the critics and readers would wearily
adenit, so thoroughly drashed, some would say trashed, as to reach a terminal point in threadbareness. Yet there is something out of the common in Asim’s stories, perdupe a very personalized in, an anguish maybe, which demande to be taken notice of.
اشتهار آدمی
اور دوسری کہانیاں
عاصم بٹ
person. Khwab Kahani, on the other hand, as the title leaves no room for doubt, is about a st ry the author believes he wrote in a dream and in the end is not sure if he brought conclusion. On face of it, the narrative deals with two over-acclaimed film actors. One is a most monstrous villain. The other in equally savage but has enough guts to put an end to any mischief the villain is capable of. Essentially a paribhle of good and evil, its message is an uncomfortable one. For un good and evil have become equally theatri cal, so much so that it is hard to tell them apart, or, which amounts same thing, quite meaningless.
Ishtihar Andmi, arguably his best fiction far, is a deft exploration of the psyche of an introverted, laconic character Fixated on the beautiful model girls he sees in the ads in magazines or on TV he is unable to bear the company of his friends whose chatter seems to him unbearably unreal and crude. He lives for, and in, and because of, ads. h is a state of self hypnosis, induced by the models he is obsessed with. He begins to believe that not only can he communicate with some of them hat also play the role of play the role of a knight-ertant ertant r resexing damsels in distress. It is impossible to say with any certainty whether an existencs reduced to fulfillment through ads is in any way preferable or sat isfactory to the chaone and ugly wality around it. We can neither pily nor or look askance at this person as he rectats desper into his posters and frumes. To all imente heacited an anil purposes he seems to unenviable nirvana.
For instance, the first two stories in the zollection (incidentally it has only half a doz only hall a do eni probe se tenderly at peculiar problems thm what follows them seems a volne-fact Te: Barish man homey wala Wayne, a bizarre story, told in a deadgan manner, smoothly turns our notion of linear time on its head. It is fantastic fiction, mimes the melodrama Shi kari is a greatle and coolly crafted fable sho about the emative process and the indefinable hope and fear which knit the life of a creative
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