Future events should also include due representation of Urdu, the national language
In especially tough times such as these, even a little cultural diversion is a real boon as it makes people forget the harsh realities of their daily lives for a little while. Distraction is always welcome even more when it’s a pleasant one and harmless one. Previously Lahore had its kite flying festival of Basant which was banned after people were killed or seriously injured by the string used in the pastime. The vacuum has now to an extent (as the masses are not involved) been filled by the Lahore Literary Festival (LLF)), which is now in its second hugely successful year. The people attending the star-studded event with its many popular literary personalities were provided a much-needed diversion from the almost routine horrors of suicide bombings, sectarian killings and targeted attacks. One should therefore be grateful even for such small mercies in these grim times. The Lahore Literary Festival 2014 did the trick. Once again this year, it entertained large audiences in with its entertaining and lively programmes.
To my mind, however, the dearth of equal representation of Urdu and Punjabi literature in the course of the LLF 2014 was a grave disappointment. An event of an international scale was expected to have representations of languages other than English, more specifically the languages of the city in which the Festival was being held at, that is, Urdu and Punjabi. That would also have ensured a much wider interest. Undoubtedly the efforts of the organisers are well appreciated in stirring up dialogues involving Urdu literature and poetry, yet these were not enough to match the focus on English literature and global politics (that too in English of course). This Festival was a platform to bring together globally known writers and journalists and while English is certainly the core medium of communication, this could have been a chance to bring to light Urdu literature in front of international audiences. Local authors in the vernacular languages ought to have been given a greater chance to make an appearance and portray the roles they are playing in the field of literature.
The event appeared to be catering to a specific class of Lahorites who have had the fortunate chance of attending posh schools and can read and converse in English fairly well and the Festival emerged as more of an ‘English Literary Festival’. While a command over English language is nothing to eschew, however, this event could have offered the audience a chance to get introduced to and acquainted with writings in languages, especially Urdu and Punjabi, which they have been neglecting.
One of the reasons for a greater tilt towards English might have been because the Board of Governors and Advisory Committee of the LLF comprised of not one patron of Urdu literature or journalism. English writing authors, journalists and even social activists formed the backbone of the entire event. They may not have personal biases towards vernacular languages, but the discrimination was evident during the course of the event.
Furthermore, only eminent English authors and film-makers from across the border actively participated in all three days of the Festival. This year the LLF Committee could have done something new by inviting Urdu and Punjabi authors and poets from India to take part in the Festival and not just limiting it to English writing personalities. This would have widened the scope of the Festival, and given Urdu more chance to flourish among the audience.
At the end of the day, this is not a power struggle between English and Urdu/Punjabi. A language cannot be deemed more worthy solely on the basis of its readership, but at the same time, the importance of English as a global language cannot be ignored. Still, somewhere along the way it is hoped that such international festivals would also provide a chance to educate the new generations, including myself, on the beauty and importance of their vernacular languages, especially the national language, Urdu.
