Betrayed dreams

One consequence of Partition has been the erasure of Muslim contribution to the liberation and emerging culture of the nation. Abdus Samad's Dawn of Dreams brings out this tragic development poignantly and forcefully, says TAQI ALI MIRZA.

ONE of the saddest aspects of the Partition of India in 1947 is the way in which the contribution made by the Muslims of undivided India in the freedom movement has been almost totally marginalised. With the exception of a few individuals like Abul Kalam Azad, the sacrifices made by other Muslim leaders like Dr. Ansari, Hakim Ajmal Khan and the Ali brothers seem to have been written off. It is forgotten, specially in the conditions now prevailing in the country, that Muslims fought, shoulder to shoulder, with their Hindu brothers, for a 100 years, ever since the great uprising of 1857, to liberate the country from alien rule. This is the price they have had to pay for the creation of a separate state for which, it is now widely recognised, the British rulers were primarily responsible. Abdus Samad's novel Dawn of Dreams (translated from the Urdu original, Khwabon Ka Savera by Mehr Afshan Farooqi) brings out this tragic development poignantly, but very forcefully.

It is the story of a staunch "nationalist" Muslim of Gaya, Bihar, Anwar Ahmed, brought up on Gandhian principles and Nehruvian idealism, who refuses to believe, despite a succession of setbacks, that he has ceased to be an Indian. His loyalty to the motherland is unfaltering. He is an active Congress member who has risen to a position of considerable eminence in his state of Bihar. He turns down the entreaties of his wife and her brothers to migrate to Pakistan at the time of Partition. In the years that follow, his trust in fair-play and justice receives one jolt after another - his inability to secure a seat for his son, Afaq, in a good college, the way Afaq is hounded out of Aligarh University because of his involvement in politics and the growing realisation that though people still treat him with regard, his claims are ignored because he is a Muslim. The decline in his political career by the abolition of Zamindari which of course, as a true patriot, he welcomes, means a sharp fall in prosperity. Disillusionment and frustration mark his later life, but he never loses faith in his principles. His step-brothers, Sabir Ahmed and Jabir Ahmed, enter the world of business and flourish, sending their sons abroad for education, but Anwar Ahmed remains unfazed. Afaq, his son, falls a prey to the lure of communal politics and gains some political standing, and is inevitably drawn into the vortex of sectarianism which mark the growth of "rightist" forces creating an atmosphere of suspicion, distrust and a deliberate attempt at alienating certain sections of society.

Alok Bhalla, in his perceptive introduction to the book, rightly suggests that "the novel offers a sharp rebuke to the Hindu communalists who have, for their own mean-spirited reasons, refused to memorialise the life-contributions of the Muslims to the cultural, moral, social and political ethos of the country", but "there is no reason to believe that relations between Hindus and Muslims are so fatally flawed that their life together can only end in tragedy; that they can never escape from living like fated fools". Fortunately, Afaq is rescued from a ruinous career by the courage and commitment of his cousin, Kulsum, daughter of one of his uncles. Kulsum is an activist and has made public service the main concern of her life. The novel, it may be said, ends on a note of hope, when Afaq decides to join forces with her, and Kulsum agrees to be his life-partner. This, probably, is the dawn of dreams.

Besides Anwar Ahmed, Afaq and to some extent Kulsum, who are characters of substance, there are interesting characters like the eccentric but utterly lovable, Fakhru Chacha who refuses to believe that his mother has died in Pakistan because she belongs to India and should buried here; Anwar's close friend, Hashmi, the left politician, driven to cynicism as a result of what he considers the criminal capitulation of the silent majority to the criminal minority of "murderers, rapists, killers, looters, and trouble makers" both among the Muslims and Hindus; the long- suffering Aliya Khanum, the wife of Anwar Ahmed who has seen her world collapse around her and the totally wordly-wise Sabir Ahmed and Jabir Ahmed, Anwar's step-brothers, who have accumulated immense wealth through fair means and foul. The translator is right when she says that Dawn of Dreams picks up the narrative where most Partition stories end. The closest parallel to this novel that the reviewer can think of is Atia Hossain's extremely well-written, but largely forgotten novel, Sunlight on a Broken Column.

Mehr Afshan Farooqi's English rendering of Abdus Samad's novel is a splendid effort. Not only has she captured the poignancy of the Urdu original, she has, one likes to suggest, enhanced its total effect by slightly reducing its size by omitting several passages and occasionally, whole chapters, to give the narrative greater vigour. One does not know if the omissions have been made with the author's knowledge, or at the translator's own discretion, or at the publisher's instance. Whatever the reason, the English version has gained considerably in effectiveness and readability. In her translator's note the translator asks herself the question, "Should a translation read like a translation?" One would like to assure her that her translation reads like an original, and yet remains faithful to the original text.

Dawn of Dreams, Abdus Samad, translated by Mehr Afshan Farooqi, Macmillan India, 2001, p.309, Rs. 175.

Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

Section  : Features
Previous : Spinning the webs of words
Next     : Between identities