The author talks about how identity and politics play a huge role in his writing.
Abdullah Khan will be at The Hindu Lit Fest 2024 in Chennai on January 26-27.
Abdullah Khan’s journey with literature began with a discovery — that he shared his place of birth, Motihari in Bihar, with one of the most prominent authors of the 20th century, George Orwell. Since then, the written word has remained Khan’s constant companion. From his debut novel Patna Blues (2018) to his latest, A Man From Motihari (2023), Khan employs a deft handling of sensitive subjects and hot-button issues to tell stories of everyday characters in Indian society. A speaker at The Hindu Lit Fest 2024 in Chennai on January 26-27, Khan discusses his thoughts on identity, desire and aspiration.
Edited excerpts:
How much of what you write is influenced by your own story?
During my school days in Bihar, my history teacher once asked, “Are you Muslim first or Indian first?” I confidently replied, borrowing the answer from my grand uncle: “I am both, born to Muslim parents, I’m Muslim; born in India, I’m Indian. Both identities came to me at birth.” As a boy, I didn’t fully grasp the complexities of identity.
During college, I pondered over how identity shapes thoughts, realising we’re not always aware of every facet of our identity. Sub-identities and super-identities emerge, revealed by others’ prejudices. In my village, I was Pathan; in school, a Muslim. Beyond Bihar, a Bihari. These identities intrigued me.
As I ventured into fiction writing, my reflections on identity seamlessly became woven into my stories. And, conflict between circumstances and desire is integral to human existence and is a vital element in crafting engaging narratives. I found inspiration in Bihari IAS/ civil services aspirants, news, historical incidents, real-life characters, beautiful places, and even SMS/ WhatsApp forwards for plot ideas.
What comes first — the plot or the point it makes? And in the case of ‘A Man from Motihari’, what was the genesis of the story?
Plots and characters naturally come to me without any preconceived plan. As I create the story, some significant points or messages often emerge organically.
Take, for instance, the inspiration behind A Man from Motihari. A few years ago, a Bangladeshi newspaper asked me to write about the house in Motihari where Orwell was born. While standing in front of that house, I had an idea: what if a boy from Motihari is born in the same room where Orwell was born many years ago? How would the boy react when he finds out, and how would it change his life? That’s how I came up with the character of the protagonist, Aslam Sher Khan, who is born in the same house as Orwell.
Tell us about your journey — from writing to publication.
Fresh out of completing my Master’s in chemistry, when I began writing Patna Blues, I had no knowledge of the technicalities of fiction writing and no background in literature. So, writing Patna Blues served as a kind of training for me, a sort of MFA, where I learned everything from scratch through trial and error. It took almost 10 years to write and nearly 9 years to get it published. I didn’t have a peer group then for beta reading or sharing comments. The journey to publication was challenging, enduring more than 200 rejections before it was published.
For my second novel, it took no more than a year to write, and finding a publisher was comparatively easier. Style-wise, I have improved significantly and gained more confidence in my writing.
There are strong political notes in your stories. What kind of responsibility do you feel towards your readers in terms of what you write about?
I believe no story exists in a vacuum. I allow the politics of the time to become a part of the narrative as I believe it is the only way to tell authentic stories.
While writing about politics, I do not shirk my responsibility as a writer and chronicler of the truth. I strive to be as impartial as possible. I generally don’t allow my personal beliefs or political ideology to creep into the story. Instead, I focus on the characters’ take on the politics of that time and keep myself a bit distant from those events.
What’s your take on literature festivals? What can they do for writers, and their readers?
Literature festivals offer writers a chance to share ideas. They gain inspiration and build a community, while readers enjoy insights into the creative process. As writers, we also get a chance to meet authors from all over the world, and learn from each other.
I think we should do more at these festivals for aspiring authors, like arranging pitching events or conducting writing masterclasses.
I have also observed a disturbing trend at many literature fests, where organisers invite celebrities such as film stars or cricketers to boost attendance. This often shifts the entire limelight to them, sidelining writers.
Gsquare Group presents The Hindu Lit Fest 2024 in Association with NITTE Education Trust & Christ University. Bookstore partner: Higginbothams
swati.daftuar@thehindu.co.in
source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Litfest> The Hindu Litfest 2024 / by Swati Daftuar / January 05th, 2024
Discussions and debates, critiques and readings, held at haunts of Urdu books and writing around the country have been interrupted rudely.
(From left) Shadab Rashid, Urdu drama writer Aslam Parvez, and Shakeel Rasheed at Kitabdaar | Mahtab Alam
In Malegaon
On the first Saturday of every month, the textile city of Malegaon in northern Maharashtra used to become home for lovers of Urdu literature, who meet to discuss, debate and critique new writings in the language, mostly by local writers. Organised under the aegis of Anjuman Muhibban e Adab (Association of Literature Lovers), the gathering began at around 9 pm, and went on till midnight.
Between 30 and 50 people – both writers and readers – would come together, a number that would at times go up to as many as 100 or even 150. Asif Iqbal Mirza, the secretary of the Anjuman, said the practice began 25 years ago on the suggestion of local journalist and editor Samiullah Ansari, who published new Urdu fiction in his weekly, Hashmi Awaz.
Over the years, the publication had emerged as a popular local magazine for young and budding writers to publish their works. The weekly, now in its 35th year of publication, had a considerable fan following and readership at the time. Ansari then suggested that admirers of the magazine form a group comprising readers as well as writers.
The group was initially named Anjuman Muhibban e Hashmi Awaz (Association of Admirers of Hashmi Awaz), but within a few years, its following grew to encompass more than just the readers of the magazine, and in 1998 it was rechristened Anjuman Muhibban e Adab, Malegaon. “Ansari sahib formed the Anjuman so that writers could get their new works critiqued by readers before getting them published in the weekly,” Mirza ssid.
Back then, Mirza himself wrote for a local children’s newspaper called Khair Andesh. But his association with the Anjuman helped him grow into a prolific Afsana Nigar, a short story writer. He was 17 when the group was formed; in the past 25 years, he has written and published more than 200 short stories in different publications.
Apart from Anjuman Muhibban e Adab, there are two more literary groups in Malegaon that held regular meetings until the lockdown was declared in March. No such meetings have been held since then. “Unlike earlier, we now have enough time to read and write. But the irony is we don’t have the opportunity to discuss and publish them,” said Mirza, who also runs a printing business. Several local publications had to halt their issues, including Hashmi Awaz, owing to the lockdown.
According to Mirza, although social media outlets such as WhatsApp and Facebook have, to some extent, helped to keep in touch with fellow writers and readers, the literary life of Malegaon has come to a standstill, since a large number of local writers and readers came from the working class and worked in local looms. “The year 2020 is the silver jubilee of my literary career. I had plans to publish a collection of my short stories, but thanks to the pandemic, that will not happen this year,” Mirza said with a great sense of despair.
In Mumbai
Both readers and writers have felt a deep loss during the pandemic. His love of books took Shakeel Rasheed, editor of the Urdu daily Mumbai Urdu News, to various bookshops in and around the Mohammad Ali Road area of Bombay. “Visiting bookshops was a part and parcel of my life. I feel a deep loss when I don’t visit them,” he said. For him, bookstores are not just spaces to buy books, but they also served as addas for readers and writers. As soon as some relaxations were in place, he rushed to the stores. “Par ab pahle wali baat nahi rahi,” said Rasheed. “Things are not as they were before.” The pandemic has made it more difficult to meet new people.
Shadab Rashid’s Kitabdaar publications and bookstore in Temkar Street of Nagpada was one such adda for Urdu writers in Mumbai, as was Maktaba Jamia on Sandhurst Road West. Today, Kitabdaar and a few other bookshops have opened their stores for a few hours every few days, while Maktaba Jamia remains closed. “Due to lack of public transport and fear of the pandemic, people cannot come to Kitabdaar,” Shadab said. He also edits the quarterly literary magazine Naya Waraq, founded by his late father and noted journalist and writer Sajid Rasheed.
Shadab Rashid said the lockdown brought significant hardships and losses to Urdu publishers and distributors. “It is not that people don’t want to read Urdu books anymore – the problem is they cannot buy them,” he said. “I have received lots of online orders, but I cannot fulfill them because I rely on postal services as they are the cheapest means of delivery, but the services are not fully functional yet.” His online Urdu bookshop kitabdaar.com is one of the few digital distribution platforms for Urdu books exclusively in India. Another such platform, urdubazaar.in, was recently launched from Delhi.
Owing to the discontinuation of physical interactions between readers and writers, people have lost touch with each other, since not all Urdu writers are active on social media, Shakeel Rasheed told me. “We have lost many good writers during this period and found out about their demise several days later,” he added. “Moreover, we could not participate in their last journeys.”
In Hyderabad
Another writer recounted similar thoughts after the death of noted Urdu satirist Mujtaba Hussain in Hyderabad on May 27. Hussain was awarded the Padma Shri in 2007 for his contributions to Urdu literature, but in December 2019, he announced he was returning the award to protest the enactment of the contentious Citizenship Amendment Act. “[T]he democracy for which I fought is under attack now and the government is doing that,” he had said, “that’s why I don’t want to associate the government with me.”
In Hyderabad, another centre of Urdu writing, literary activities have come to a similar halt due to the pandemic. Publications like Shagoofa, a monthly magazine of satirical writing, have been temporarily discontinued since the lockdown.
In Delhi
In Delhi, too, the pandemic has left an adverse impact on Urdu writing. Khan Rizwan, a poet and a known “addebaaz” from Delhi, loved participating in and organizing adabi addas (literary gatherings). He misses visiting the Nai Kitab book store, located in one of the many bylanes of Jamia Nagar, which is one of the famous addas for Urdu lovers in the city. Run by veteran writer and publisher Shahid Ali Khan, Nai Kitab is a haven for young and old writers alike, Rizwan said, as Shahid sahib treated them alike. “It is not just a bookshop but an institution where one got to meet noted writers and lovers of Urdu literature,” he said.
Rizwan would visit the shop at least twice a week, and meet a new literature enthusiast or writer, or find out about a new book or risala /parcha (journal/magazine). “I miss the black tea and chips that Shahid sahib served us with love and affection,” he recalled. “He is a storehouse of information, and several veteran writers were his friends, so he would tell us stories all the time.”
I couldn’t agree more with Rizwan. I have been visiting Nai Kitab once every few months for more than a decade now, and on each of my visits, after asking khabar-khairyat, Shahid sahib would say, “Achcha aap bahut dino baad aayen hain, ye nayi kitaabein aayi hai dekh lein (Since you’ve come after a long time, here are some new books).” Last year, when I visited the bookshop around this time, he directed me towards dozens of books written by noted Urdu satirist Fikr Taunsvi and Shaukat Thanvi. I immediately bought all of them, as they were usually out of print and seldom available.
As the person in charge of the Maktaba Jamia, the publication division of Jamia Millia Islamia in Bombay, Shahid Sahib befriended writers and poets like Jan Nisar Akhtar, Meena Kumari, Sahir Ludhianvi and Jagan Nath Azad. Some of them were regular visitors to the Maktaba Jamia. Though he moved to Delhi after serving the Maktaba for several decades, he did not stop hosting literature lovers. He then founded Nai Kitab publishers and a quarterly journal by the same name.
It was in 2007 at his bookshop that I first chanced upon Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s celebrated novel Kai Chand The Sare Aasman, later translated into English as The Mirror of Beauty by the author himself. The novel went on to become a major critical and commercial success.
Faruqi was also associated with the Nai Kitab journal as chairperson of its advisory council and would visit the shop once in a while. The journal eventually stopped publication owing to Shahid sahib’s failing health, but he continued with the bookstore as it was like “oxygen for him”, he had once told me.
Waiting for freedom
Some writers have managed to turn the lockdown into a creatively productive period. “Personally, the pandemic has proved as a blessing in disguise as I read books I wanted to for years and finish other important work, such as recording videos of Urdu literature lectures,” says Khalid Mubashir, a poet and assistant professor of Urdu literature at Jamia. He quickly added, however, this was not common, as most writers and poets were stuck at home, either because of their age or in fear of the pandemic. “Moreover, not all writers have access to technology and books like I do. I am fortunate enough to have friends who helped me with technology to do something substantial during this period.”
Mubashir’s videos, as many as 60 of them, are each about 30 minutes long, and cover the history, evolution and development of Urdu and its literature in the subcontinent. Though the lectures are prepared keeping in mind the need and syllabus of Urdu literature students, ordinary Urdu lovers can also benefit from them. All lectures are available on the YouTube channel Safeer e Adab.
Similarly, although younger poets like Mohammed Anas Faizi from old Delhi have been trying to keep Urdu literature gatherings going by using social media, online addas do not have the feel and impact of offline and in-person gatherings. “Technology and social media can only help to a certain extent. Online gatherings, mushairas and addas cannot substitute for the real ones, no matter how well they are done,” he said.
With apologies to Faiz Ahmad Faiz, what the Urdu writers, poets and addebaaz seem to be telling the pandemic is:
Gulon Mein Rang Bhare Baad e Nau Bahar Chale Chale Bhi Jao Ki Gulshan Ka Karobar Chale
Mahtab Alam is a multilingual journalist and until recently was the executive editor of The Wire Urdu. His Twitter handle is @MahtabNama.
This series of articles on the impact of the coronavirus pandemic on publishing is curated by Kanishka Gupta.
source: http://www.scroll.in / Scroll.in / Home> Publishing and the Pandemic / by Mahtab Alam / July 14th, 2020
The literary work is the fourth translation and the first Urdu work to win the JCB Prize
(Left to right) Mita Kapur, literary director, The JCB Prize for Literature; Sunil Khurana, chief operating officer, JCB India; winning author Khalid Jawed; translator of ‘The Paradise of Food’ Baran Farooqi and jury member AS Panneerselvan JCB Prize
Khalid Jawed’s The Paradise of Food has been awarded the JCB Prize for Literature 2022. The book was chosen by a panel of five judges.
The Paradise of Food has been translated into English from Urdu by Baran Farooqi and published by Juggernaut. The Rs 25 lakh prize was awarded to the author virtually by Sunil Khurana, chief operating officer, JCB India, and A.S. Panneerselvan, chair of the jury for 2022, at a hybrid event organised at The Oberoi, New Delhi. Khalid Jawed also received the trophy — a sculpture titled ‘Mirror Melting’ by Delhi artist duo Thukral and Tagra.
The Paradise of Food, which is the fourth translation to win the JCB Prize and the first in Urdu, is a bildungsroman that traces the narrator’s journey through life anchored in a middle-class Muslim joint family.
The jury comprised Panneerselvan, journalist, editor and columnist; author Amitabha Bagchi; J Devika, historian, feminist, social critic and academician; author Janice Pariat and Rakhee Balaram, assistant professor, Global Art and Art History at the University of Albany, State University of New York. The award ceremony began with a welcome note from Mita Kapur, literary director of the JCB Prize, and an address by Deepak Shetty, CEO & managing director, JCB India. Classical dance performances by Shriram Bhartiya Kala Kendra led up to the grand announcement.
Speaking about the merit of The Paradise of Food as a piece of literature, Bagchi commented, “This singular and moving book shines a scintillating light on the violence at the heart of human civilisation. The language contains several beautiful and unusual formulations that are a literary achievement by both the author and the extremely skilled translator. A literary landmark in a less-celebrated genre of Urdu’s grand literary tradition, this work deserves to be widely read in India and beyond.”
Other members of the jury, too, unanimously appreciated Jawed’s book. Rakhee Balaram described the work as a “book of indescribable brilliance” and to J. Devika, it was a “powerful ice-pick in the winter of civilisational crisis that has engulfed the countries of South Asia”.
source: http://www.telegraphindia.com / Telegraph India / Home> My Kolkata> Events> Literary Event / by My Kolkata Web Desk / November 20th, 2022
