Carving an admirable niche in the domain of fiction
“Look friend, one of the most precious things in life is individual freedom. Without it life is meaningless. I am a free bird. Circumstances have driven me into a gilded cage where I get the choicest feed. One word from me and all my needs –physical or monetary—are fulfilled. But no one is aware of the emptiness that lies within me. All my relatives-in-law are realistic, clever and successful. They are like a pack of wolves. They are part of their own crowd. To them the rest are strangers-to them the world is alien and the people, faceless.”(Translation: self)
This is an excerpt from the story “Pinjra” which appears early in Khalid Aftab’s most absorbing collection “Jahan Ander Jahan” and offers a glimpse into the mind of the hero who repents his hasty decision and pines for freedom.
Khalid Aftab’s cubist eye sees from every angle. He explores the whole gamut of human emotions; exhibits most perceptively the many complexities of the human mind and the mystery that is man — and woman. He seems to say that man, with all his noble qualities — sympathy, benevolence, intellect — still bears in his bodily frame the indelible stamp of his lowly origin.
Khalid Aftab’s cubist eye sees from every angle. He explores the whole gamut of human emotions; exhibits most perceptively the many complexities of the human mind and the mystery that is man — and woman
In “Tapish,” another story, he analyses familial patterns. Revealing an aspect of Malikji, the main character, he writes:” It is true that the hot coals buried in the ashes can be cooled only by water. But here the fire has been burning for years. The tragedy is that Malik Sahib, despite his long partnership, never once asked his wife if she was happy. Neither did his wife, even for appearance’s sake, ever reveal her feelings to her husband. As time went by, cracks appeared in their relationship but none knew about it. She just kept silent to keep the house going. She had buried her desires deep in the cold storage of her heart as though these did not exist.” Years of indifference and years of silent suffering shatter domestic harmony and lead to unimaginable results.
In “Naqaab” he dissects the two-faced moral standards, sanctimonious protestations and the sordid nature of the principal characters. Part of the dialogue runs thus: “Once again I held her hand in mine. She too pressed my hand with a loving warmth. I was not aware that she had such tenderness for me.
“Please remove your veil” I entreated “so that I may see your beautiful face for once.”
“No,” she replied with an air of finality.” To show one’s face to a stranger before marriage is considered ominous. So please don’t insist.”
“Look, we are sitting alone in this room so what’s the harm in lifting the veil? I asked.
“I have already told you that a thing like this could prove a bad omen for both of us,” she repeated.
In “Gardish,” another story, the author depicts the arch selfishness and vagrant emotions of the characters concerned: ‘Sumbul telephoned me from Toronto after a long time.
“How are you? She asked.
“Nairobi has become a gloomy place after your departure”, I said.
“There wasn’t anything exciting here either,” said Sumbul. “But then last Sunday I met a young Canadian named James Scott. He is a very handsome and lovable man. We have become so fond of each other that it will be difficult for us to part. We have decided to marry soon.”
Totally perplexed, Raheel exclaimed,” How very astonishing? You used to be against the very idea of marriage”.
“Everything changed in a trice,” said Sumbul. “Raheel, I must say our friendship too was wonderful and satisfying. I shall never forget it. I will come to Nairobi when the holidays are over. We’ll meet then. God be with you.”
The story also illumines the principle of the absurd. Harassed by the pir and the police, the woman loses her balance; bemoans her fate; vociferously complains before a swelling crowd only to find herself arrested for disturbing the peace
In “Naks-e-Aman — an O Henry style of tale — the author ventures to enter the shady world of the pir and the policeman; a world where the superstitious, the faithful, the credulous are duped and meet a sorry end. The story sheds light on a society where corruption is rampant and honesty is at a premium.” That scoundrel of a pir,” says the protagonist, “abducted my daughter. I searched for her everywhere. When, at last, I reached the pir’s house his servant informed me that the pir had married my daughter and abandoned this house. Utterly helpless, I had no choice but to make for the police station. The SHO registered no FIR but suggested that if I co-operated with him he would help me. I was a lonely woman. What could I do?”
The story also illumines the principle of the absurd. Harassed by the pir and the police, the woman loses her balance; bemoans her fate; vociferously complains before a swelling crowd only to find herself arrested for disturbing the peace.
The author has dedicated his “Jahan Ander Jahan” to Adam — the man for whom the world was created”. In his brief note to the readers, he states: “Every reader has within himself a ‘separate world’ of his own where the light and the dark intermingle to fashion new kaleidoscopic patterns and invite the discerning to view the spectacle.”
Khalid Aftab does not imitate the descriptive or the audaciously racy style of some of the recognised masters of the Urdu short story. His technique, mode of expression, and perception of reality are entirely his own. The result: a set of spellbinding stories. Khalid Aftab’s “Jahan Ander Jahan” amply demonstrates that he has carved an admirable niche for himself in the domain of fiction.
“Jahan Ander Jahan”
Written by: Khalid Aftab
Published by: Sang-e-Meel Publications, Lahore
Pages: 224; Price: Rs450