Deconstructing Durga

Thank you for writing this article Farzana.

regards

In Search of Birth Places
Mantolives

That would be great. Thank you friend.

-h-

Memory and other Poems
Good stuff.

In Search of Birth Places
Did Dost-Mittar visit Nankana Sahib and Panja Sahib?

Fruit

I think that Aamir Ansari may be the most talented unpublished poet/writer I have ever come across. He should concentrate on writing poetry, putting a collection together and sending it out to get published; preferably in the UK or America. Anything other than this devotion and commitment would be neglect of talent and a cruelty by witholding his art from the masses. The only criticism I would make, actually it is not a criticism at all, rather a preference and an observation, is that I would like to see him attempt to write longer poems, something along the line and length of ``Aubade`` by Phillip Larkin. In fact this is more a suggestion than anything else and he should feel free to ignore it; It is just because I would relish reading what he does with developing his themes and imagery to that length and form.

In the meantime, his poetry speaks for itself. It is sublime and true. He is a true poet. Chowk should put together his greatest hits and give him his own page so they can be read together, as one.

Bald Angel
Are most talented young writers in Pakistan choosing to write in English rather than Urdu these days?

I read a collection of Manto`s short stories he was an interesting writer.

Broken Stones
Farzana

Some good lines and arresting imagery in this story.

:)

Why is the West so angry with Dr. Mahathir?
Satyavadi

*Though other Indians do appreciated the bravery and sacrifice of the Sikhs, they do need to get off of their moral high horse, we did you a favor, mentality...
Bluestar and Delhi riots notwithstanding...*

- Lets leave aside Bluestar. Lets talk about the riots and talk about the fact that in the space of three days a genocide was commited against the Sikhs of Delhi by lynch mobs sponsored by the ruling party of India, and the fact that not a single perpetrator of these crimes and the organisers of them have been brought to justice. Please could you describe for me the parameters of criticism that Sikhs, and Hindu Punjabis like myself, are allowed to make without falling into your blessed category of whingeing and moral ``high-horseness``

I would like to know so that I can discuss these things without ruffling your impeccable whiter than white feathers.

Thank You

Why is the West so angry with Dr. Mahathir?
tahmed32

*It is shameful that even today no one in Pakistan (or in India either) has called for justice being done and the criminals of 1947 on their respective side being brought to justice. They are probably all dead by now anyway, having escaped man`s justice. But not God`s hopefully*

Sir,

I not only believe that it is a shame, I think it has poisoned both countries and created a culture of impunity in which genocidal violence can occur without a single person being punished. Witness the pogroms in India and the genocide in Bangladesh. These occured because the ``elite`` knew they could get away with it. The perpetrators sit in their homes growing fat, playing with their grandchildren, safe in their happy memories of killing and destroying and knowing that as members of the elite they are protected and safe.

This is the legacy of what happened at partition, the culture of impunity, the knowledge that the leaders of our societies possess, that they can commit atrocities and lead happy lives of freedom and joy, free of worry, sipping gin and tonics. They are cannibals.

Lets face it sir, both of our countries are fukked up and rotten.

(Please excuse my use of Anglo-Saxon I believe it is permissible for effect in this instance)

regards

Widows of Banares
Harish Nambiar

An extremely evocative poem on a haunting theme. Well done.

regards

Sometimes
Aamir

Nothing has greater merit than your poems mate.

In my convoluted way I was trying to say that your work is natural and contained and is seamless...it is the product of a true poetic sensibility, unlike a lot of poetry you read, which seems stilted and forced.

They are perfect in their weighting and gravity.

The first line of this one is tremendous.

{{Sometimes the world seems so small

You could trap it in a seed.}}

-h-

I am Not a Patriot
Nashqbandi

{{The job of Muslims is to bring the beautiful message of Islam to the non believers in a wise and beautiful manner and thus save them from darkness}}

- dude, that was hilarious...thanks for cheering me up I havent laughed so much since watching that Chris Rock video my cousin lent me, you know the one, where he talks about the difference between black people and n**gers

Pray for me to see the light, brother

-h-

Sometimes

This is what I think.

Some writing is jagged or stilted, with sharp ends and parts that are slightly malformed, which jut out misshapen. It contains some reason and worth, and can be admired, but it seems at odds, unsettled. It has value, but just feels slightly off balance, either slightly underweight, or slightly overweight.

Some writing is like a stone you pick up from the ground which feels light, even though it is heavy. It feels smooth and correct in your hand, like the pebbles you find beside rivers and streams when they are flowing low; it has gravity and shape and is perfect for what it is. Nothing could be added or taken away, and you keep it in your pocket because you know it is a valuable thing, natural, seamless.

Sometimes you read a poem. It zings about in your head and settles its images and purpose into your brain, and the poet’s eye brings his moment, epiphany or observation to you, and it is a feature of perfection like that river stone, its rhythm is sound. It has PERFECT GRAVITY, and there is nothing to be said or added.

So I won’t say a thing.


-h-

Cheeso

I will hand deliver them to you

;-)

-h-

roazaiba

- The ending of Palace Walk, as you describe it, is brilliant. But it is also indicative of one of the attributes that makes him such a good writer. Because he knows when to be quiet, when to say nothing, when to cut away, what not to show. A great writer knows that sometimes the best thing to do is not to write at all. And he does it so well at the end of that book, he takes us this far and rests us down as
Al Sayyid Ahmad comes home to announce the news to Aminah. It is unforgettable.

-h-

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Ajeet

-Thanks! I am happy you enjoyed it.

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Pankaj

-Are you big fan of Chekov? (I don’t know how to respond to being compared to
him) Thanks for the comments ;-)

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Ally

-Yeah we went shopping in all the apna areas of Glasgow. Bearsden is posh but
there are quite a few Asian families living on the road where my cousin lives.
Central Glasgow also has some really good shops, especially clothes stores
around the Italian centre. Loved it.

The best station on the internet for music is www.panjabradio.co.uk also on
Channel 880 on Sky Digital. They play the best tunes and always do
requests and shouts. They have a show called Ravi Paar where they play
exclusively Pakistani artists, you probably already know this station.

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Rozaiba

- I have “Midaq Alley” sitting on my bookshelf to be read next. I also enjoyed the
structure of Miramar, it reminded me of the film “Rashomon” directed by Akira
Kurosawa, where one story is told from four different perspectives. I wonder if
he was influenced by that movie.

There is a moment in the Cairo Trilogy that still gets me when I think about it.
Right at the start of Palace Walk there is just a brief scene, a few paragraphs,
in which the youngest daughter ( I think her name is Aisha) flirts with a young
police man walking past their house. It contains all the erotic tension that Mahfouz
describes so brilliantly, of a young girl on the cusp of woman hood, that
innocent flirtatiousness. And of course she is the most beautiful girl in all
Cairo, and is caught by her older sister making eyes at him and is reprimanded by her, and it
establishes the dynamics of their relationship and the strictness of their
fathers rule, but beyond that we think nothing more of it. The policer officer
is not even mentioned by name. But what we do not realise is that Mahfouz has
laid a land mine, primed and timed to explode on a slow burner. Thirty years and one thousand pages later,
in the very last chapter of the trilogy, a policeman walks into the household at
the time of the death of their mother, and Aisha is by now a haggard, skinny,
half-mad woman, made suicidal and wretched by the deaths of her husband and
children, and she attacks the policeman, who because of her appearence, assumes in conversation to Kamal that this is their mum. And when he explains that this is in fact his sister, and he realises it is the same girl he fell in love with and flirted with from the window all those years ago, and sees her collapse, his shock brings into
stark relief all the cruelty of life that led to her physical and mental
deterioration. It’s a superb moment, I can picture his expression without him
even having to describe it.

For that one moment we feel the horror and sadness that the policeman feels, we see the whole world from his eyes, just for one moment. It ties everything together, the passing of time, the tragedy of it all, and it has a real power, we feel his shock and horror, and it really
packs a punch. And they are such simply rendered, almost innocuous scenes. But
they contain so much. A couple of paragraphs one thousand pages apart. Amazing.
He is a master.

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Banjaara

-There is an Indian book store in London which is a branch of Star Books from New Delhi and I am friendly with the owner. He can get any book that is in print in India sent over for me. I have written down the titles and will get him to check to see if there are any English translations out there. Thanks for letting me know.

:- )

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Aamir

-Mate, I think that is the finest compliment I have received, that the story made you feel like writing prose again. It is so encouraging to me. Thank you. You know what I think of your ability and eye, so you know what it means to me dude. Enough said.

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Kabuliwallah

-KidhaaN?? How are you doing? I hope life is treating you well bro, thanks for reading and enjoying my story

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Temporal

-Hi! I hope you enjoy it

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Bharaatvasi

- I am glad you liked it! Thanks for reading it and letting me know

;- )

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Dost-Mittar

-Your comments are always extra valuable to me.

My Grandfather wore an earing until he came to England, I always thought it was really cool.

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Sac

-I have no plans to turn it into a longer book, it was just meant as a stand alone story but now that you mention it, I think it could be fertile material, to see what happens to Pammi and Bigga and Sewak. What do you reckon?

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DullaBhatti

{{Hey remember I am going to be your translater to Punjabi}}

-Are you being serious? Don’t say it if you are not because I will take you up on that offer

;- )

I don’t know how it was in Punjab at that time but when I was a teenager it was obligatory for every Sikh cool dude in England to have a gold earing, especially for the Jatt youth. Still is but not to the same extent.

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kaurasch

-Thanks for your kind words of appreciation. I am glad you enjoyed it.

;- )

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