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Women
Women and Words
A review of Pakistani Women
Writers
 "Words
for me are just balm - they soothe me when the anguish is too deep,"
mused Lahore-based writer Feryal Ali Gauhar. "In an increasingly
insecure world, a woman speaks of conflicts generated, engendered and
perpetrated by men." Gauhar studied Political Economy at McGill
University, trained in documentary film production in Europe and teaches
film at Lahore's National College of Art. Her first novel 'The Scent of
Wet Earth in August' was published by Penguin-India in 2002 and she has
recently completed a second novel 'No Place for Further Burials', which
focuses on the American presence in Afghanistan.
Gauhar was one of four women writers speaking in the basement Lecture
Room of New Delhi's India International Centre on September 22. The
occasion was the release of 'And the World Changed: Contemporary Stories
by Pakistani Women', a collection of short stories by 24 Pakistani women
writers, published by Women Unlimited. The other three writers present
were Muneeza Shamsie (the editor of the volume), Humera Afridi and Sabyn
Javeri-Jilani. While Shamsie and Gauhar live in Pakistan, Afridi is
presently based in New York and Sabyn in London. In fact, of the 24
short story writers in the anthology, half live in Pakistan while the
other half are based in the West.
Gauhar was particularly eloquent about being in India: "I traversed the
narrow alleys of Chandni Chowk as a child. I remember the family packing
a few belongings and travelling by train to Amritsar, from there to
Bharuch, then a tonga and a bullock-cart...I'm still travelling. Coming
here is very difficult, because it is like being home and yet not being
home."
Afridi traced her urge to write to the state of virtual exile she has
been in since childhood: "My family left Pakistan and I grew up in the
United Arab Emirates (UAE). I don't know whether I would have become a
writer if I hadn't been torn from Pakistan. I began writing poetry when
I was 16 and, ever since, writing has become a sort of home. The UAE was
a hostile and alien environment, where my identity was always being
questioned. The desire to compensate for my dubious identity became an
impetus for my writing."
Afridi went to America to study English at Mount Holyoke and Carnegie
Mellon universities, and is presently completing her Masters in Creative
Writing from New York University. She has taught English in Jeddah,
Dubai, Dallas and New York City. Having lived in six places during the
past 10 years, she feels her writing "is neither here nor there. Moving
so much, I have taught myself to appropriate cities. The novel I'm
writing is situated in six places. Moving can, finally, be
liberating..."
Sabyn Javeri-Jillani was born and studied in Karachi. She moved to
England five years ago and writes for Pakistani and British publications
on culture and entertainment. "In South Asia, we come from such rich
traditions of storytelling. All of us have many stories within us,"
adding, "Karachi remains central to my work. I find that physical
distance enables you to reach out to those nooks and corners of your
mind and unravel memories. My writing explores the question of being
suspended between different cultures. I write about home, but is home
the place where you have your roots or the place where you take wings
and fly?"
Muneeza Shamsie was born in Lahore, educated in England and lives in
Karachi. She noted that the theme of 'quest' runs like a thread through
all 24 stories in the collection. She recalled that as a student in
England, "I couldn't find a context for myself in geography, history,
science or literature. South Asian writing attracted me because it
challenged the Empire." Having edited two anthologies of Pakistani
English writing - 'A Dragonfly in the Sun' (OUP, 1997) and 'Leaving
Home' (OUP, 2001) - Shamsie feels that Pakistani women writers are at
the "extreme edges" of both English and Pakistani literature.
While Shamsie is 'regrettably' monolingual, Gauhar speaks and writes in
Urdu, Punjabi and English. She writes a column on political economy in
the newspaper 'Dawn', but much of her creative writing is in indigenous
tongues. "I wrote 'The Scent of Wet Earth' in Urdu and Punjabi, and
later translated it into English," she reveals. "Instinctively, I find
it contrived to write in a language so distanced and not even adequate
to convey the emotional landscapes of a people. How can I write of the
degrees of sadness mingled with joy in the month of saavan (monsoon) in
the English language...?"
Gauhar believes that the process, and not the product, is important for
her. "The process of writing keeps me sane." Gauhar described three
years spent making a film on four colorful characters in Shahi Mohalla
(literally 'royal neighborhood', as Lahore's red light area is
euphemistically called). She felt privileged to have met and got to know
such people. She notes that traditions like 'dastaangoz' (literally,
storytelling) are to be found in regional languages, but not in English
- "globalization has destroyed a lot". When asked whether she would like
to write a novel in half-English and half-Urdu, Gauhar quipped, "Yes,
par aap publish karenge?"(Yes, but will you publish it?)
All four writers reflected on their state of being 'hybrid', as South
Asians who write in English. Afridi noted that she writes for a
multi-ethnic Diaspora, as much as for herself. Gauhar acknowledged there
are pressures on the writer today. Her novel 'No Place for Further
Burials' features deaths of Afghans and Americans in Afghanistan and was
considered too sensitive for publication in America, because the
American public has been deliberately misinformed about the number of
American militiamen killed in Afghanistan. It is a test of integrity
whether a writer succumbs to such pressure or remains true to the
essence she wants to share. Gauhar noted, "For me, any death is a death
too many, whatever the color of the corpse." Afridi wryly noted that you
don't usually earn from writing fiction, so it can sometimes be
difficult to justify such writing to one's own self!
On a question on women's writing specifically, Gauhar remarked, "Writing
may be the only avenue of expression for many women. Men may whistle,
saunter around and behave badly. In Pakistani society, we women do not
whistle, wink or make salubrious noises. Women who were courtesans
discussed sexuality over the centuries, and strung words together to
compose songs. But those who composed at home were not recognized. It is
the positioning of women - performing is out of bounds for us, as it was
for middle-class Indian women a hundred years ago. You cannot sing and
dance without being noticed, but you can write quietly."
The evening succeeded in bringing about a deepened understanding and
awareness of the concerns of contemporary Pakistani women writers.
Indian writers share many of these concerns. Clearly, direct cultural
and literary exchange across our borders is an idea whose time has come.
– Deepti Priya Mehrotra
October 9, 2005
By arrangement with
Women's Feature Service
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