Khan, whose last worked on the translation of Patil’s Panipat, a voluminous Marathi language classic published in 1988, said translating into English from any of the Indian languages is like moving into a different culture as idioms, emotional framework and cultural resonances change with language.
In 2018, Khan had translated two novels of Dongare, a Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puruskar winner who is regarded as an avant garde writer in regional literature.(Source: Amazon.in | Designed by Gargi Singh)
Being true to the word and spirit of the original work while making it resonate with the English reader is always a challenge, says writer Nadeem Khan, who has been translating the works of celebrated Marathi authors such as Prabhakar Narayan and Vishwas Patil.
Khan, whose last worked on the translation of Patil’s Panipat, a voluminous Marathi language classic published in 1988, said translating into English from any of the Indian languages is like moving into a different culture as idioms, emotional framework and cultural resonances change with language.
“My job is only to convey those ideas and themes in another language with the greatest probity and as attractively as possible,” Khan told PTI in an email interview. According to Khan, authors use different dialects of the language to describe their characters but it is tricky to transform something that has word-play involved, like in the case of another celebrated Marathi writer Avadhoot Dongare.
“Hence, being true to the word and spirit of the original work and yet making it resonate with the English reader is always a challenge. But my good fortune has been that I have grown up reading great works of translation of Tagore, Ismat Chughtai, Manto, Rajinder Singh Bedi, Vijay Tendulkar and that helped me find the right strategy for my work,” Khan said.
In 2018, Khan had translated two novels of Dongare, a Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puruskar winner who is regarded as an avant garde writer in regional literature. They were published in a single book titled, The Story of Being Useless + Three Contexts of a Writer. While translating Patil’s Panipat, the 69-year-old retired English professor had “serious difference of opinion” with the author, who is also his friend.
“I could so clearly see why it was such a big hit with the Marathi readers, but I also knew that a verbatim translation would take it nowhere among the English readers. The novel was a thrilling historical narrative, well-researched, but it appealed to the self-regard of the Marathi readers. So, my challenge was to retain all its epic qualities, its thrill and yet ensure that it targeted the universal admiration for integrity and courage,” Khan said.
Khan said he wanted the book to stand apart as an original historical-thriller in English while also carrying the aroma of the soil in which it was located. Comparing the styles of Marathi writeres such as late Prabhakar Narayan alias Bhau Padhye, Patil and Dongare, Khan, who lives in Amravati, Maharashtra, said each translation comes with a unique set of challenges.
“The texture of their language is very different, their readership is different, their well-springs and motivations are different. With Padhye, obviously, I didn’t have the facility of consulting him, but I found myself very comfortable with his philosophical and literary orientation and derived a different pleasure in offering him to the English readers.” Dongare, he said, has already made a name for himself in the world of regional literature.
“When I read his novels, I was absolutely sure that he had to be made available to a wider discerning readership. He was experimenting with the language and with the narrative style. “Translating him required me to catch and project the culture in which his characters were operating, very often the culture of the Pune streets, and to find the adequate register in English. It was quite challenging, and therefore very rewarding too.”
Khan said he tweaks the original writing to make it more English-reader-friendly but only after consulting with the original author as they have the last word. “I never allow myself to forget that the original work is theirs, the ideas are theirs, the themes are theirs, the messages are theirs, in fact, the reputation at stake is theirs, it’s their neck on the block…Their complete agreement with my effort is of paramount importance.”
source: http://www.indianexpress.com / The Indian Express / Home> News> Books & Literature / by PTI / January 06th, 2021
Prem Nazir brought the golden era to the Malayalam film industry. He made a place in the hearts of people with his acting and generosity. In his 39 years of career, he made such records related to cinema which are almost impossible for the actors of today’s era to make or break.
Image Source : X / India’s first superstar was Prem Nazir
Whenever we talk about the most successful actors of India, then the names of Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan, Dilip Kumar or Kamal Haasan come to our minds. But do you know there was a bigger superstar than these actors who made such records that are impossible to touch even today? Today we are going to tell you about that Indian superstar, who has given not one or two but 700 hit films.
Who was India’s first superstar?
We are talking about Prem Nazir, the superstar of Malayalam films of the 50s. Yes, the veteran star of Malayalam cinema is also called the actor who brought the golden era of Malayalam cinema. Prem’s acting was so powerful that every director of that era wanted to cast him in his film. Talking about Prem Nazir’s record, he made many big records like doing the most films, most double roles, most triple roles and about 130 films with the same heroine. Due to this, not two or three but 39 of his films were released in the year 1979.
How is Nazir different from other superstars?
To understand how great Prem Nazir’s record is, we tell you through a comparison. The biggest name in Indian cinema, Amitabh Bachchan, has less than 60 hit films as a lead actor, out of which 10 are blockbusters. Now comes the talk of South superstar Rajinikanth, who has a record of more than 80 hits and more than a dozen blockbusters. Let us now talk about the three Khans as well. Salman Khan has given 39 hit films out of which 15 are blockbusters, followed by Shah Rukh Khan who has given 34 hit films including 10 blockbusters. Aamir Khan is far behind with 20 hit films including 6 blockbusters.
You will be surprised to know that even after adding the hit films of all these actors, they do not even come close to the number of hits of Prem Nazir along with 50 of these being blockbusters. He played the lead role in more than 700 films due to which his name is recorded in the Limca World Record.
Other records in the name of Prem Nazir
Prem Nazir has many other records to his name. He worked with 85 heroines. Till the year 1975, Prem worked with actress Sheela in a total of 130 films. This is because he considered Sheela as his lucky charm. He played double roles in more than 40 films. Apart from this, he also appeared in triple roles in three films.
Nazir is also remembered for his compassion
Prem Nazir’s presence is a big reason why the Malayalam film industry was called the Golden Age. Prem was such an actor that if any of his films flopped, he would immediately ask the producer to start another film. The actor would take out dates from his busy schedule and do the producer’s films so that his losses could be compensated.
source: http://www.indiatvnews.com / India TV / Home> News> Entertainment> Celebrities / by Satish Verma, New Delhi / November 12th, 2024
What is more exciting is that Ajay was trained by a visually impaired instructor from Malappuram.
Noushad & Ajay Balu
Alappuzha :
As the allotted time for the work experience events was almost to end, Ajay Balu, a Class V student from Rahmania School, Kozhikode, was busy crafting items from waste materials.
A regular participant at the State School Science Fair for the past three years, the visually impaired 10-year-old boy was thrilled to learn arts, attend the event and acquire more skills. “I have learnt to make craft items from waste materials and made swings, tables, chairs etc here. I have been trained by my teachers for the past two months and am excited to participate in these events,” says Ajay.
What is more exciting is that Ajay was trained by a visually impaired instructor from Malappuram. Noushad T has been working in the field of teaching art and craft to students with special needs for more than two decades now. “Being a visually impaired person, I was trained by several teachers in my school days. Now I am passing it on to these children,” he says, adding that children with special needs are skilled in arts. “There may be challenges. These children, however, show a talent for comprehending and completing tasks quickly. It is an advantage,” he adds.
As many as 957 students from 43 special schools across the state participated in the work experience category for visually and hearing impaired students in LP, UP, high school and higher secondary sections, held on Saturday. The competition was held in 22 categories.
At another end of the hall was G Vishnu, a Class X student, making life-like sculptures out of clay which won him the first prize in the category. Vishnu, a hearing-impaired artist, had bagged the first prize in clay modelling competitions for the past five years in the State School Science Fair in the work experience category and was also the first prize winner in cartoon and painting competitions in the State School Arts Fest.
Vishnu, a student of Fr Agotino Vicini’s Special School in Kochi, has been trained by Kochi-based sculptor Stanley from a very young age. “Training kids with difficulties is a task in the initial stages. But when they find interest in the craft, they grasp it quickly. Vishnu is an exceptionally talented student and you can see that in the art he made with years of training,” said Stanley.
source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Good News / by Anna Jose & Manisha VCS / November 17th, 2024
At the Constitution Club of India in New Delhi, a convocation ceremony organized by Webbic University, Ghana, West Africa.
During this ceremony, many individuals from the country were honored with Honorary Doctorate Degree for their social work and talents. The degrees were conferred by Chancellor Dr. Felix Ofosu in recognition of their achievements.
In the event, Artist Ammar Abdi from Saharanpur, Uttar Pradesh, was honored with an honorary Doctorate Degree by the International University, Webbic University, Ghana, West Africa, for his talent.
Ammar started his career at a very young age. He has also been honored with many awards in the past, including the Exclusive Talent Award by Exclusive World Records.
His family is happy to receive this honor.
During this time, many other prominent individuals were also awarded honorary doctorates. Among them were Member of Uttar Pradesh Minorities Commission, Haider Abbas Chand; Senior Journalist and JCI President, Anurag Saxena; Operation Head of Exclusive World Records, Pankaj Khatwan; and Assistant Director of MSME, UP, Harish Yadav.
The measure of a man is worth his memories after his death.
This is towards a particular reference to Mirza Javed Murtuza, who despite having been born in a Lucknow elitist family, with roots from Faizabad, took for him a road less travelled. His contrast was his campaign, which he undertook, with his utmost commitment, to educate masses and classes, to seek from the Almighty God, on their own, and not through any intermediary. This was his avowed stand against the institutional clergy, which ironically, had always been ‘in consonance’ with the ruling dispensation.
Lucknow had been a seat of power, for centuries, a La Feudal state, which continued to flourish, even after Britishers had taken over. Even after the ouster of the last king of Avadh, Wajid Ali Shah ‘Akhter’, and the subsequent ‘silencing’ of the mutiny or the first war for independence of 1857, there was a ‘virtual or a real’ silence in Lucknow, for the next 90 years. Until came the dawn of independence. India, became a throbbing democracy, but the elite of Lucknow fell into a morass of decadence, in terms of social, economic, educational standards etc, and to make it worse, were the ‘debates and discussions’ over religious denomination’s considered ‘superiorities over each other’. Thus, was enamored on Lucknow’s landscape.
Rubina J Murtuza at the release of Hayat-e-Javed (2010) / Photo Courtesy: Twocircles.Net
After the post-1977 Emergency government, Iranian revolution of 1979, Muradabad riots of 1980, Javed Murtuza took to the stage, of Ali Congress as its Patron, as he could see and also foresee that the clergy, their pageboys and footmen, were all too incapable to relate to the arising situations. Babri Masjid locks were also opened in 1986. He was an advocate and started championing the cause of Muslim rights, articulated the ‘reasoning and argumentation’ not only for self emancipation but also for seeking a place in social-hierarchy in terms of getting a place in government jobs, awareness towards reservation enshrined through Constitution etc.
The issues confronting the community were with a crystal ball clarity to him. He was ahead, to clergy by a goodly margin, which was too involved, and wants to remain still, like a caged mouse on a wheel. Unable to augment any forward path! He was never an extremist showboat, but had earned a personal flak , from administration, when he had printed Ram Aur Islam, extracting excerpts from Dr. BR Ambedkar book, Riddles of Hinduism, that small booklet was a rage, in those days, after Babri Masjid had been demolished. There were reportedly raids to confiscate its copies. He even had organized a function, in the memory of martyrs of Babri Masjid, for those who had been killed in the aftermath of the demolition.
He became the proverbial deacon of a church! Without having attended any conventional religious seminary! Out of his sheer grit, as onlookers still remember him, he would drive his scooter, memorizing Quranic verses to verbalize the gospel. He had arrested the attention of the youth. There was an ever growing numbers to his followers. Young boys with their beards primed, thronged the altar of his speeches. He had to incur the wrath, and was therefore, subjected to a murderous assault, during an auspicious Ramzan night, but only the next day, he would sit, his head, hands and face ‘bruised and bandaged’, soliciting his next homily. Yours truly was present when the assault had taken place.
His avowal that community had to search for its lost self-esteem, was perhaps, his only and long standing forte. He would pass on a road with utmost humility. Always so unassuming. A true picture of keeping a low profile yet exuding high intensity. The campaign spearheaded to safeguard the Auqafs, may perhaps, has lost its steam, but he was much farsighted in his approach, as finally, the government today, is contemplating to bring all Auqafs under its thumb. Had an ear was lent to his call then, perhaps, this situation might never have occurred. But, this is how community, can share its long time complacency towards the gems of its yore.
His persona still resonates around those who sought from his brilliance. He was an engineer by profession. Edited and published Payam-e-Nau (The New Message) in both Urdu and Hindi scripts, and editorialized his vision, which was a true reflection of his time and beyond.
His father and younger brother retired as Justice from High Courts.
His daughter wrote Hayat-e-Javed (The immortal Life) in Urdu language as an ode to the long standing memories of her father. His 15th death anniversary fell on November 9.
***
The writer is a former UP State Information Commissioner.
source: http://www.muslimmirror.com / Muslim Mirror / Home> Indian Muslim> Personality / by Haider Abbas / November 15th, 2024
Sudanese and Somalians in Hyderabad have created a home away from home through their unique restaurants
Image Source: Tafosha Cafe
Every time you zoom past the gate of Paramount Colony, you’re instantly transported to a world that feels far from Hyderabad. Shops line the streets, offering camel milk, Sudanese bukhoor, flowing jilbabs, Somalian qahwe, and a host of other treasures from East Africa.
As you stroll through, people can be seen relaxing on plastic chairs, gathered around qahwa carts, sipping steaming cups of coffee and tea. The soft murmur of conversation creates a sense of community in this area of Tolichowki, which has come to be known as ‘Mini Somalia’ or ‘Somali Land’.
What further sets this neighborhood apart is, of course, its culinary scene. Where everyone in Hyderabad crazes over the famed biryani and haleem, the Sudanese and Somalians in this area have created a home away from home through their unique restaurants.
A taste of Africa in Hyderabad
There are several restaurants peppered around Paramount Colony that offer a slice of East African culture through its rich culinary traditions. One such gem is Tafosha Cafe run by Mohammed Shakil.
While Shakil hails from Mumbai, his 20 years in Yemen have contributed to his strong hold on the Arabic language and knowledge of African cuisine. These experiences have made his cafe a popular destination for the Somalian and Sudanese communities in Hyderabad.
“This cafe was originally started by a Sudanese owner in 2021, which contributes to its authenticity. When I took over in July, I ensured that we remained true to the traditional flavors of Somalia and Sudan, which is why our chef is also Sudanese,” he explains.
Although Tafosha welcomes Hyderabadi locals, Shakil’s primary focus remains on serving these two communities. This dedication to preserving the culinary experience of these cultures is reflected in the unique menu that is curated specially for each day of the week.
Savoring authentic dishes
One glance through the menu and you can see names unknown to any average Hyderabadi.
“For someone who is a beginner to East African cuisine, I would suggest foul which is made of creamy fava beans, seasoned with special Somalian or Sudanese spices. There are four variations in foul based on their origins: foul hummus, foul musallah, foul with liver, and fattah foul musallah,” Shakil tells Siasat.com.
Other dishes that seem to stand out are the Fahita Chicken, Agashi Chicken (barbeque chicken), Zigny (lamb stew), Aseeda Naiemia Tagiya, Regla (Kulfa with lamb), Bamia (Okra with lamb), and Salat Aswad (Eggplant salad).
Notably, there is one similarity between Hyderabadi and African cuisine- Paaya, or kawaree, which features cow’s trotters. However, this dish distinguishes itself from Hyderabadi paaya in several ways. The spices used in kawaree create a unique flavor profile and are characterized by a thicker, more robust broth, which enhances its hearty appeal. The dish is traditionally made using very tender meat, lending it a texture that sets it apart from its Hyderabadi counterpart.
Another unique aspect of this cuisine is that rice is not a staple in daily Sudanese meals due to several factors, including war, drought, and flooding in the region. “Since the café was originally started by a Sudanese, I decided to maintain that authenticity by not introducing rice in the menu,” he says.
In addition, Somali cuisine features a unique practice of pairing bananas with nearly every meal. This tradition arises from Somalia’s rich agricultural landscape, where bananas are abundant and easily accessible.
Shakil also points out that peanuts are a key ingredient in approximately 50% of the dishes served and spices are often used sparingly because the hot climate in many African countries affects the way flavors are developed. The richness of peanuts enhances the dishes, providing depth and creaminess without the need for an abundance of spices. This culinary approach allows the natural flavors of the ingredients to shine, reflecting the simplicity of African cooking.
Distinct from Middle Eastern cuisine
Hyderabad has long been celebrated for its love of Arab cuisine, with dishes like shawarma, mandi, and kebabs dominating the food scene. But in this melting pot of cultures, African cuisine is often mistaken for Arab food. While they share some spices and ingredients, Somalian and Sudanese dishes have their own rich, distinctive flavors.
According to Shakil, chefs in Sudan and Somalia typically avoid using olive oil, opting for sesame oil instead. Additionally, East African dishes tend to be milder than Middle Eastern dishes. They often feature only one or two types of spices, resulting in a culinary experience that highlights the natural flavors of the ingredients.
Moreover, Somali and Sudanese cooks often combine vegetables like okra, kulfa, eggplant, and potatoes with meat, creating hearty, balanced meals. This practice contrasts with some Middle Eastern dishes that may focus more heavily on meat alone.
As patrons indulge in these distinctive dishes, they not only satisfy their appetites but also gain an appreciation for the traditions and stories behind each meal. In a city where diverse cultures intersect, this hidden gem serves as a reminder of the beauty found in culinary diversity, inviting everyone to embrace and celebrate the flavors of Africa right in the heart of Hyderabad.
source: http://www.siasat.com / The Siasat Daily / Home> Lifestyle / by Bushra Khan / October 18th, 2024
On November 10, the 274th (or 273rd) birthday of Tipu Sultan was celebrated peacefully in his erstwhile capital, Srirangapatna, amid heavy security.
The date of his birth is disputed – there is little agreement on whether it is November 10, November 20, or December 1, or whether that event happened in 1750 or 1751. (File photo)
This past Sunday, November 10, the 274th (or 273rd) birthday of Tipu Sultan was celebrated peacefully in his erstwhile capital, Srirangapatna, amid heavy security. The security was necessary because Tipu has become, in recent years, a polarizing and politicised figure, with successive state governments casting him alternately as monster and Messiah. Even the date of his birth is disputed – there is little agreement on whether it is November 10, November 20, or December 1, or whether that event happened in 1750 or 1751.
Be that as it may, one well-documented fact about Tipu is that he commissioned, around 1795, the famous Tipu’s Tiger, a mechanical automaton built by local craftsmen using local materials, possibly with inputs from French engineers. It featured a painted wooden tiger mauling a man who, judging from his costume, was decidedly European. The hollow toy housed various mechanisms that were worked by the turning of a crank handle. Each time it was turned, one of the man’s arms moved up, seemingly in a (futile) bid for self-defence, while the bellows inside pushed air out of the man’s throat and several openings in the tiger’s head, producing what sounded like a wail of distress from the man alongside a growl from the tiger. Symbolic of the self-styled Tiger of Mysore, the tiger was as large as life; the hapless European just a little smaller.
Tipu’s Tiger may well have been a product of Tipu’s fancy, meant to inspire him after his defeat in the Third Anglo-Mysore War in 1792, following which he not only lost half his kingdom but was obliged to give up two of his sons as hostages to Lord Cornwallis. But there is a popular theory that the visual of the tiger attacking the soldier was based on a real incident that happened later the same year.
On 21 December 1792, so the story goes, the goodly ship Shaw Ardaseer, bound for Madras, stopped to take on cargo at Sagar Island, situated at the mouth of the Hooghly in Calcutta, at the point where the Ganga meets the Bay of Bengal. On the ship was 17-year-old Hector Sutherland Munro, a ‘cadet for Madras’ who had only arrived in India on the 8th of November. Along with his fellow cadets, young Hector went ashore to try his luck at hunting deer, but was unsuccessful. The party had just sat down at the edge of the jungle to eat a meal when they heard, in the words of eyewitness Capt Henry Conran, ‘a roar like thunder,’ and saw ‘an immense royal tiger spring on the unfortunate Munro.’ In a moment, continues Conran, Munro’s head ‘was in the beast’s mouth,’ and it had raced into the jungle, carrying Munro with it. Conran and the others shot at the tiger and killed it, but Munro could not be saved.
Conran’s sensational prose, and the fact that young Munro was the son of the celebrated General Sir Hector Munro, the hero of the Battle of Buxar (1764) and the capture of Pondicherry (1778), and one of the main players in the Second Anglo-Mysore War (1780) against Tipu‘s father Hyder Ali, ensured that the story went viral in England, perhaps even inspiring William Blake’s famous 1793 poem ‘The Tyger.’ Given that his sons were being held in Calcutta at the time, the story almost certainly also reached Tipu. In the aftermath of the Fourth Anglo-Mysore War, in which Tipu was killed, Tipu’s Tiger, which had little intrinsic but much emblematic value, was carried back to England in triumph, and installed, in July 1808, in East India House on Leadenhall Street.
Today, Tipu’s Tiger sits behind glass at the Victoria & Albert Museum (V&A) in London, where it has long been, according to the museum’s website, ‘one of the V&A’s most popular exhibits.’
(Roopa Pai is a writer who has carried on a longtime love affair with her hometown Bengaluru)
source: http://www.hindustantimes.com / Hindustan Times / Home / by Roopa Pai / November 12th, 2024
This commemorative volume is a timely and necessary reminder of the greatness of an extraordinary writer, film-maker and social commentator.
FL19 BK ABBAS 1
KHWAJA Ahmad Abbas wore many hats and distinguished himself in each of the roles he chose. As a pioneer of progressive cinema, a consummate writer of short stories and novels that depicted the human condition and a committed journalist whose Last Page column acquired legendary status, he blazed new trails and fashioned his own path.
Abbas was an important figure from a critical past. His body of work deserves to be studied and his life remembered by millennials and generations to come.
This commemorative volume, a celebration of the man on the occasion of his 100th birth anniversary, arrives as a reminder of the humanism that characterised his life and work. Lavishly produced and deftly edited by Iffat Fatima, an independent filmmaker from Kashmir, and Syeda Saiyidain Hameed, the social and women’s rights activist, educationist and writer, this book from the Khwaja Ahmad Abbas Memorial Trust provides invaluable insights into his mind and personality.
A man of many talents
Despite his many talents, or likely because of them, Abbas could never be boxed into any creative category. And he was well aware of it. As Syeda Saiyidain Hameed informs the readers in her marvellous introduction to the compendium, Abbas himself would often ask his readers: “Who am I? Writers say I am a journalist; journalists say I am a film-maker; film-makers say I write short stories.” The editors of this volume, who recognised that the only way to appreciate Abbas fully is to study him in totality, have paid a perfect tribute to his oeuvre by dividing the volume into 10 sections that feature selections from his writings, focus on his cinema through his interviews and conversations, talk about his beginnings and early life and adventures, and reveal the man behind the mighty pen through reminiscences and tributes by actors and associates.
The nature of the public adulation of Abbas also kept changing over the decades during which he was active. For one generation he was the man who collaborated with Raj Kapoor to unveil some of the finest examples of high-quality mainstream Indian cinema, such as Awara and Shree 420 , while another celebrated him as the writer of powerful and poignant stories such as Sardarji , a lamentation of the violence and mayhem the country witnessed in the wake of Partition. And much before Independence, his was a significant voice writing about the marginalised sections of society. Abbas slipped in and out of the many roles he had chosen to play with a rare finesse, much like a thespian.
Abbas was fortunate to have inherited a long tradition of intellectualism and reformist ideals from both sides of the family. His mother’s grandfather, Maulana Altaf Husain Hali, was a poet who used verse as a tool against social evils and as an instrument of reform within the Muslim community. Abbas began carrying forward the torch early on, even as a college student, when he published Aligarh Opinion , a handwritten weekly newspaper that he personally peddled on a bicycle.
This was the start of his life in journalism which would eventually see him pen one of the longest-running columns in the history of news in Blitz , a weekly tabloid founded by R.K. Karanjia.
Reading the compendium is like taking a train journey back in time, to a world far removed from the present. Be it Abbas’ harrowing first-person account of what he saw in Calcutta (now Kolkata) during the Bengal Famine—which inspired him to make the groundbreaking film Dharti ke Lal (1945)—or his active involvement with the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA), his cinematic endeavours or his first meeting with Jawaharlal Nehru, the reader is taken on a walk-through of events, institutions and happenings that are now the staple of history textbooks.
A particularly striking example is his narration of the celebratory procession of people in Bombay (now Mumbai) on August 15, 1947, where he was one among the hundreds of thousands rejoicing in their new-found status as citizens of a free country.
“It was an inspiring sight to see a famous poet like Josh Malihabadi, a film celebrity like Prithviraj Kapoor with his film star son Raj, a dancer of international fame like Zohra Sehgal, and a front-rank writer like Krishan Chander, singing and dancing in the streets to celebrate this happy occasion….Today, they had come in the midst of the people, as singers of their songs, not to sing about the people, but to sing with the people; not to dance a symbolic representation of life on the stage, but to dance the dance of freedom with the people in the streets.”
The collection also offers a peek into his personal life; his own accounts of life as a newly married man and the banter between him and his wife Mujji (Mujtabai Khatoon) are straight out of the myriad Muslim socials that Bollywood was famous for a long time ago. The scenes from his marriage tragically culminate in the death of his wife.
Describing the day his wife died in an elegiac memorial, elegant yet heart-breaking, Abbas says: “It looked like her—but it was not her. For that life that was always bubbling with intelligence and compassion was no longer in her. I collapsed near the bed where she lay inert. It was not her—but something resembling her—like the lifeless photograph of a beloved person. When I returned after burying her I walked alone and knew that henceforth I would have to get used to walking alone.”
Pathbreaking cinematic efforts
Although acclaimed for his association with Raj Kapoor and, of course, for introducing Amitabh Bachchan to the silver screen in Saat Hindustani , Abbas deserves a special chapter in the history of Indian cinema for his breathtaking corpus of work that saw him don the mantles of producer, director and screenwriter at once and also established him as a pioneer whose films broke new ground. He took on challenging issues and translated his thoughts on to the screen, with varying degrees of success.
Only a man ahead of his times could make a film like Hamara Ghar (1964), a film about a group of children marooned on an island where the protagonist is a motherless Dalit boy.
As Ahmer Nadeem Anwer, who played the lead role of Sonu at the age of 10, says in an essay on the film: “It is this boy who embodies the defiance of those who shall not accept their exclusion from education, work, self-respect—or even recreation and pleasure.” The film, along with several others, is testimony to Abbas’ willingness to take risks and make the cinema that he wanted to make.
Collaboration with Raj Kapoor
Abbas liked to describe himself as a communicator. “I want to communicate my ideas, my impulses, my ideologies to other people. That is my basic interest in writing, in films and in drama.”
It is a moot point which vehicle of communication served his purpose best, but one could not make a better choice than his cinematic collaborations with Raj Kapoor, especially from the early days of the showman’s career, such as his directorial debut, Awara , Shree 420 and Jagte Raho .
These films manifest the distilled brilliance of a mind that displays an unparalleled skill in weaving riveting stories for the big screen. His phenomenal grasp of the medium and Raj Kapoor’s showmanship resulted in timeless classics.
Abbas himself considered Awara to be the best of his collaborations with Raj Kapoor.
It is another story that the two would later go on to make Mera Naam Joker , which Raj Kapoor considered his magnum opus but viewers thought otherwise.
The monumental failure of the film devastated him, driving him into debt and depression, and it was Abbas who helped him bounce back by writing the iconic teenage romance called Bobby , which turned out to be Raj Kapoor’s biggest blockbuster.
Nehru: A love story
It was love at first sight, as Abbas confesses, recollecting the first time he saw Jawaharlal Nehru, at the Aligarh railway station. The essay about the entire episode is a fascinating recollection of an awestruck student meeting his idol in flesh and blood and the resulting conversation, which culminates in Nehru signing his autograph book with the message: “Live dangerously.” Abbas certainly seemed to have taken it to heart, as his life demonstrated. He lived dangerously all his life, always true to himself and never wavering from his convictions, never hesitating to helm a project even at the risk of grave financial loss.
He firmly stood up for what he thought was right and did not shy away from opposing what he felt was wrong, irrespective of ideology.
His ability to introspect and accept criticism separated him from other giants of the screen or the world of letters of his time.
In his tribute, Amitabh Bachchan writes: “Mamu Jaan’s [Abbas] socialism was not just restrained to the books or columns he read, believed and wrote about. He practised it too in the way he lived and conducted his life, and in the way he made his films. I was a newcomer in the illustrious star cast of Saat Hindustani , but his treatment to all was universal. In his eyes we were all equals, and we were treated with the sameness that he followed and believed in.”
In the preface to her memoir, the author B. M. Zuhara writes, “I grew up at a time when Muslim girls did not even have the freedom to dream.” The Dreams of a Mappila Girl is set at the time when independent India was embracing its new identity as a free nation. It offers a rare portrait of women in Muslim households in North Kerala through the lens of a woman writer. Zuhara showcases how women, bound as they were by the rules of society, still managed to hold key positions in their family and had an important voice in the discussions concerning their lives, contrary to popular perception.
The following piece is an excerpt from Fehmida Zakeer’s translation of the book, soon to be out from Yoda Press.
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During the holidays, the hall upstairs turned into a playground for the children, who were allowed to play outdoors only in the evenings. Lined by long windows without grills, and furnished only with Uppa’s charukasera and writing table, the hall was an expansive place for us to jump and run and skip and play. Below the glass windows was a cement slab broad enough to be used as a seat, running the length of the hall. If you sat on it and looked out of the window, you could see paddy fields and coconut groves and people out on the road in front of the house.
One evening, I was playing with Achu, the elder brother nearest me in age. Though his name was Assoo, I called him Achu. We were racing cars, or rather matchboxes converted by our imaginations into pretend cars. Since both Achu and I were recovering from a fever, we did not have permission to go out and play with the others, and so we were playing in the hall upstairs. Suddenly I heard the sound of Umma’s medhiyadi on the staircase leading from the women’s section of the house.
In those days, people used wooden footwear indoors. Climbing stairs in a medhiyadi, gripping the peg in the middle with the big toe and the second toe, was a feat in itself. Valippa’s medhiyadi, which he wore when he went out, had leather straps. Uppa preferred to wear shoes when he stepped out of the house. Once a year, Chandu Aashari, the family carpenter, made medhiyadi for the whole family. Achu once broke the small medhiyadi made for me by Chandu Aashari, and how I wept!
Umma did not normally come upstairs in the evenings. I looked enquiringly at Achu when we heard the sound of her footsteps.
‘Umma is going to Kozhikode tomorrow morning. She knows that you will cry and insist on going with her. That’s why she didn’t tell you.’
Even though I knew Achu was trying to provoke me, my eyes started filling with tears. I was five years old at that time, and in class one at school. I missed school frequently because I used to accompany my mother wherever she went. This continued in class two. At the end of each year, Uppa would visit the school and meet the teacher, and I would be promoted to the next class. This was the usual practice.
I closed my brimming eyes and stood there thinking.
Achu spoke again. ‘Umma must have come upstairs to pack her clothes for the trip. You’d better go quickly.’
‘Don’t take my matchboxes. I’ll be right back,’ I called out as I ran to Umma’s room.
‘I told you about Umma’s trip, so now the matchboxes are mine,’ I heard Achu shouting after me, but I decided to ignore his words for now.
When I entered the room I saw the doors of the meshalmarah opened wide. The scent of kaithapoo filled the room. How it lingers, the fragrance of screwpine! The meshalmarah doubled as a table and a cupboard, and was actually a long table with drawers on both sides with space to store things below. Umma called the meshalmarah her clothes cupboard. Umma stored her clothes on one side and the children’s on the other side. In those times, children usually had only one or two sets of clothes, made from lengths of cotton. Trousers and shirts for the boys and chelakuppayam, or frocks, for me.
‘You are packing to go to Kozhikode without me?’ I whimpered.
Umma turned to look at me. ‘The crybaby has arrived!’ she said.
At that, I wailed even more loudly.
I had three nicknames as a child. Karachapetti, Tarkakozhi and Ummakutty. Karachapetti because I cried a lot; I did not know the meaning of Tarkakozhi but when someone called me that, I would put on a sullen look; I actually liked my third nickname of Ummakutty, ‘mother’s darling’. When someone called me by that name, a shy smile would tug at my lips. I liked to sing the lullaby Umma often sang to me. ‘Umma’s little girl Soorakutty, darling little daughter of mine.’
But at that moment, I was not thinking about the nicknames or Umma’s special song for me.
‘If you go without taking me with you, by God, by the Prophet, I will not go to school till you come back.’
‘Moideen will tie your hands and legs and take you to school,’ Umma said as she placed her clothes in a cloth bag fitted with wooden handles.
Moideen was the caretaker of our house, and all the children were scared of him. But even though he put on a stern face when any of us misbehaved, he really liked us. Whenever I cried and created a fuss, he would arrive and take me to the pond at the back of our house. He would get into the pond and pluck a lotus for me or teach me how to make toys with lotus leaves.
‘If I complain about a stomach ache, Ummama will not send me to school,’ I said, pouting.
‘This is too much. Don’t you want to learn to read and write? If you follow me around all the time, how will you learn your lessons?’
‘I don’t want to,’ I said resolutely.
‘Don’t imagine I’ll take you this time, Soora. If you hide inside the car, I will drag you out.’
Usually when it became clear that Umma would not take me with her on a trip, I would hide between the seats in the car without even having changed into an appropriate outfit. It did not occur to me that my grandfather, seated in the charukasera on the verandah, the driver, and the servants busy in their tasks would all notice my presence. I thought I was fooling Umma by hiding in the car. When Umma came out of the house and went up to the car, Valippa would jokingly call out, ‘Mariya, be careful, there is a cockroach in the car.’
Umma would understand immediately. She would get into the car and pinch my ear and say, ‘Don’t get smart with me. Get out of the car.’
I would hug the seat and wail loudly.
Valippa would say then, ‘Take her with you. She’s a baby after all.’
‘Baby indeed, she’s over five years old. You are all spoiling her.’
And I would get to accompany Umma to Kozhikode once again. Umma’s younger sister lived in Kozhikode and, to us children, her house was a source of wonder. Umma had to see the doctor in Kozhikode every three months and she would drop in at her sister’s house when she made the trip.
Now Umma ignored my wails and placed the bag filled with her clothes on the table. Then she went downstairs. Sobbing loudly, I followed her.
‘Why is the baby crying?’ Ummama called out from below the stairs.
‘If she complains of a stomach ache tomorrow morning, don’t allow her to take the day off from school, Elama.’
When Umma was fifteen years old, her thirty-year-old mother, nine months pregnant, died. Later, Valippa married again. Our present Ummama was his second wife. I understood all this only later. Even though my mother and her siblings called their stepmother Elama, Ummama treated them as if they were her own children.
Ummama intervened on my behalf now. ‘Take her with you, Mariyu. If you leave her here, she will raise the roof with her crying.’
By then we had climbed down the stairs.
Umma ignored me and asked Ummama, ‘Is Uppa sitting on the verandah?’
‘He was asking for you. He just sent Assan to look for you.’ Assan, the handyman, was Moidyaka’s son.
Every evening Umma and Ummama went to the verandah to keep Valippa company. This was the only time they were allowed on the verandah.
‘Aren’t you coming?’ Umma asked as she made her way outside.
‘You go on. I’ll come soon,’ Ummama said, walking towards the eastern side of the house where the bathrooms were located.
As Umma made her way to the front of the house, I followed close behind, sniffling and crying.
‘Soora, don’t irritate me. If you don’t stop I’ll lock you up in the kunhiara. I’m warning you.’
Kunhiara. As soon as I heard that word, my wails dwindled to a whimper. Kunhiara was the small room where the sparingly used big and heavy copper and brass utensils were stored. The room was dark even during the daytime and was a haven for cockroaches, moths and rats. I was not really scared of the cockroaches, the moths, the rats. What terrified me was the tomcat installed in our house to catch the rats. Its glowing eyes struck terror in my heart. To me, spending time there was like being in hell, and once locked inside I would remain there until the servants came to rescue me. I was still sobbing when we reached the verandah.
‘Chu, why are you laughing?’ asked Valippa.
My grandfather called me Chu.
‘Your darling Chu cries all the time,’ Umma said crossly.
‘Don’t say that, Mariya. Look at her smiling now. She looks so beautiful.’
On hearing this, in spite of the tears streaming from my eyes, I attempted a smile.
‘That’s my brave girl. Come here.’ Valippa beckoned to me. ‘If you massage my legs, I’ll give you a mukkal.’
Forgetting about the trip to Kozhikode, I walked towards the charukasera where my grandfather sat with his legs hoisted over its elongated armrests. I massaged his legs one by one with my small hands.
‘I want the coin with the hole.’
In those times, one pice coins came with a hole and without. I preferred the ones with the hole. I dropped all the coins I got from Valippa into a powder tin which had its top cut open with a knife.
By then, Ummama had reached the verandah. Ummama would sit on the bench and Umma would stand by the door as they talked about the events of the day with my grandfather. I listened to them talking as I pressed Valippa’s feet, directing smug looks at my mother and feeling like the valiant Unniarcha.* Absorbed in conversation, Umma too seemed to have forgotten the whole episode.
***
* Unniarcha is a mythological warrior woman celebrated for her fearlessness, immortalised in the vadakkan paatu, the ballads of the region.
Translator’s Bio
Fehmida Zakeer is an Independent writer with bylines in several publications including, The Bangalore Review, The Hindu, Al Jazeera, Reader’s Digest, National Geographic, Whetstone Magazine, NPR. Her fiction has appeared in publications such as The Indian Quarterly, Out of Print Magazine, Quarterly Literary Review Singapore, Asian Cha, among others. A story of hers was placed first in the Himal South-Asian short story competition 2013, and another was chosen by the National Library Board of Singapore for the 2013 edition of their annual READ Singapore anthology.
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B. M. Zuhara
BM Zuhara has written novels and short stories and is the first Muslim woman writer from Kerala. She won the Kerala Sahitya Akademi Award for her contribution to Malayalam literature in 2008 and has received awards such as Lalithambika Antharjanam Memorial Special Award, Unnimoy Memorial Award and the K. Balakrishnan Smaraka Award. Her novels, Iruttu (Darkness), Nilavu (Moonlight) and Mozhi (Divorce), have been translated into Arabic while the English translation of Nilavu was published by the Oxford University Press in an anthology titled, Five Novellas. She translated Tayeb Salih’s Wedding of Zein and Naguib Mahfouz’s Palace Walk into Malayalam.
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source: http://www.bangalorereview.com / The Bangalore Reviews / Home> Non-Fiction / by B M Zuhera / July 2022
The Urdu Development Organisation (UDO), Tamil Nadu and Karnataka Chapter, held a meeting here today under the chairmanship of Dr. Mohammed Obaidullah Baig, Chairman of UDO for Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, to finalise preparations for the upcoming World Urdu Day celebrations on November 9. During this meeting, prominent personalities were selected for this year’s World Urdu Day Awards in recognition of their contributions to Urdu literature, education, journalism, and poetry.
The committee decided to honour Dr. Amanullah M.B., Head of the Urdu Department at University of Madras, with the ‘Allama Iqbal World Urdu Day Award for Urdu Literature.’ V.M. Habib Rehman, Block Education Officer (BEO) from Chennai, will receive the ‘Maulana Abul Kalam Azad World Urdu Day Award for Promotion of Education and Training.’
Other distinguished recipients include Hafeez Mohammad Hameedullah Baig for promoting the Urdu language, Azam Shahid from Bengaluru for journalism, and Dr. Ijaz Hussain and Anwar Jaleelpuri for their contributions to Urdu poetry.
Additional honourees include Shahid Madrasi, Kaatib Hanif, Asan Ghani Mushtaq Rafiqui, and Akbar Zahid, with awards recognising their contributions to Urdu literature, poetry, and journalism. Educators such as Dr. Hayat Iftikhar, Dr. Nikhat Naz from Queen Mary College, Saira Naseem, M. Karamatullah, Siraj-un-Nisa, and several others from Tamil Nadu will be recognised with World Urdu Day Awards for their dedication to teaching and promoting Urdu in schools and colleges.
A special highlight of the celebration will be the launch of two books by Dr. Amanullah M.B. of the University of Madras, titled Thirukkural in Urdu and Challenges and Opportunities in Urdu Essay Writing.
Dr. Md. Ubaidullah Baig, Chairman of the World Urdu Day Organising Committee (Tamil Nadu and Karnataka), and Dr. Syed Ahmad Khan, Convener of the World Urdu Day Organising Committee (New Delhi), extended their congratulations to all awardees. They expressed hope that these awards would further support the growth and recognition of the Urdu language and literature. The award ceremony is expected to spotlight the cultural and literary significance of Urdu, reinforcing its value across various fields.
source: http://www.radiancenews.com / Radiance News / Home> Awards> Focus> Pride of the Nation / by Radiance News Bureau / November 06th, 2024
