The series of which this article forms the second part is aimed at capturing the essence of Pakistani Urdu writing — its history, milieu, towering figures and memorable writings.

Just as American literature and British literature are two separate entities with their innate characteristics, and sharing the same language does not automatically make them one, so too are Pakistani and Indian Urdu literatures: they have their own, intrinsic attributes that set them apart, despite some similarities.

Analysing Pakistani Urdu literature and distinguishing it from Indian Urdu literature is not aimed at dividing these literatures. Rather, it is to see how social, political and cultural phenomena have shaped Pakistani Urdu literature. Secondly, in the post-Independence era the linguistic and cultural environments of both countries have developed their own distinctive tones, which are reflected in the literature created on either side of the border.

The sentiments peculiar to Pakistani society and the different linguistic features of the Pakistani version of the Urdu language are very evident in Urdu novels written here after Independence. But before we take a look at the Pakistani Urdu novel and decide which novels can be tagged as prominent or representative, let us glance at the misconception about “the dearth of good Urdu novels”. It is true that short fiction is the more popular genre than the novel in Urdu, but it does not follow that the novel is not read or simply does not exist in Urdu.

Urdu has been producing good novels for over 100 years now. Mirza Hadi Ruswa’s Umrao Jan Ada (1899) was, as put by Ralph Russell in his The Pursuit of Urdu Literature, “the first true novel” and “real novel” in Urdu, though by then the novel in Urdu was almost three decades old. The Urdu novel had emerged in the post-1857 era under the influence of English literature — with Nazeer Ahmed’s Mirat-ul-A’roos (1869) arguably being the first one. Zafar Omar and Munshi Tirath Ram Firozepuri’s detective novels, mostly adapted or translated from English novels, may not merit a serious critical analysis but they were bestsellers and instrumental in immensely popularising the genre itself during the 1910s and 1920s. Likewise, some humorous novels by Azeem Baig Chughtai, written in the 1920s and 1930s, gave a fillip, though at times their playfulness makes them sound frivolous.

The history of the Pakistani Urdu novel is traced from 1947 onwards

Qazi Abdul Ghaffar’s Laila ke Khutoot (1932), an epistolary novel depicting the woeful life of a prostitute, was much admired despite its tirade against the religious segments. It is not difficult to name a few Urdu novels written in the first half of the 20th century, especially after 1936, that could make it to Urdu’s literary canon: Gao Daan (1936) by Premchand, London Ki Ek Raat (published in 1938, though penned in 1935) by Sajjad Zaheer, Shikast (1943) by Krishan Chander, Terhi Lakeer (1944) by Ismat Chughtai and Guraiz (1945) by Aziz Ahmad. Yes, the novel did appear on Urdu’s literary horizon quite late, but one should be forgiven for assuming that Urdu has not produced numerous good novels as this is a myth repeated umpteen times by some critics and taken at face value.

Looking at the Pakistani Urdu novel written in the first decade of the nascent country, one finds two distinct trends: the historical novel and the novel depicting the tragic events that took place in the wake of Partition. Most of the historical novels — written, for instance, by Raees Ahmed Jafri, Rasheed Akhter Nadvi, Naseem Hijazi and Qaisi Rampuri — were not considered of much literary value despite their popularity, as they were mostly didactic or semi-religious, with undertones of reformation and preaching.

Most of the novels portraying the riots and massacre reflected more anger and emotion than literary merits — more partiality than humanity. But the ones with literary finesse, too, were criticised and became controversial. As Shahzad Manzar has mentioned in his articles on the Urdu novel, there were at least two Pakistani Urdu novels worthy of note written against the backdrop of Independence and the chaos that followed: M. Aslam’s Raqs-i-Iblees (1947) and Qudratullah Shahab’s novella Ya Khuda (1949), but the forewords praising them kicked up literary controversies since the Progressives had taken exception to them. Ya Khuda had a foreword by Mumtaz Shirin and Raqs-i-Iblees by Hasan Askari. They were accused of being biased and partisan, but then the criticism, too, was not based on impartiality and betrayed ideological differences. The Progressives were of the view that Independence, or Partition, as some prefer the term, was a result of the ‘divide-and-rule’ policies pursued by the British and should not be viewed in the Hindu-Muslim perspective. This was indeed convenient as it maintained the equilibrium to blame it all on “both the sides”, as did the Indian Urdu novelist Ramanand Sagar in his Aur Insaan Mar Gaya (1948), portraying the mayhem that took place in the wake of Independence, forgetting that the caravans migrating to Pakistan bore the real brunt.

Qurratulain Hyder’s Mere Bhee Sanam Khanay (1949) was also set in the post-Independence milieu, though instead of riots it portrayed the migration and uprooting of UP’s aristocratic families in 1947. Her works are mentioned here because some of her novels were penned and first published in Pakistan, although Hyder went back to India after a stay of about a decade in Pakistan.

The sentiments peculiar to Pakistani society and the different linguistic features of the Pakistani version of the Urdu language are very evident in Urdu novels written here after Independence. But before we take a look at the Pakistani Urdu novel and decide which novels can be tagged as prominent or representative, let us glance at the misconception about “the dearth of good Urdu novels”. It is true that short fiction is the more popular genre than the novel in Urdu, but it does not follow that the novel is not read or simply does not exist in Urdu. Urdu has been producing good novels for over 100 years now. Mirza Hadi Ruswa’s Umrao Jan Ada (1899) was, as put by Ralph Russell in his The Pursuit of Urdu Literature, “the first true novel” and “real novel” in Urdu, though by then the novel in Urdu was almost three decades old.

Intentionally documenting the subcontinent’s cultural history is a tendency that became more evident in latter novels of hers, in Safeena-i-Gham-i-Dil (1952), for instance. Ahsan Farooqi had perfectly painted in his Shaam-i-Awadh (1948) the decaying culture of Oudh. Aziz Ahmad’s Aisi Bulandi Aisi Pasti (1948) paints the moral decline of Deccan’s ruling class. Though Muhammad Khalid Akhtar’s Bees Sau Giyara (1950) was inspired by George Orwell’s 1984, it was a satire on Pakistan and India’s newborn states, which the writer thought were “fascist”. Migration to Pakistan and its social and psychological outcomes became the theme of many a novel. For Intizar Husain it became a metaphor for being rootless, too, as his novel Chand Gahan (1952) alludes. Riaz Shahid’s Hazar Dastan and A. Hameed’s Darbe captured life inside the old walled city of Lahore.

As for the novels written for commercial purposes, literary merit was never an issue and many such Urdu Pakistani novels published with a feminine, literary-sounding name as the author were, in fact, ghost-written by men. Even if written by popular female novelists, such as Razia Butt, they are not mentioned in literary histories as they lack the basic idea of what a novel really is. Most female writers of yesteryears, and even of today, feel that just to tell the woes of a young beautiful girl trying to get married into a good family and making it work is what life is all about.

But some women novelists — in the real, modern sense of the word — of Urdu proved their mettle by writing splendid novels in such a way that hardly any male counterpart could come even close. In fact, in the initial phase after 1947, Pakistan’s female Urdu novelists were shining more brightly. Among them at the top is, of course, the inimitable Qurratulain Hyder. Aag ka Darya (1957), her magnum opus, begins with a scene from Buddhist India in the 4th century BC and ends in a post-1947 Karachi, portraying the making of Indo-Muslim culture in the subcontinent in the process. Various accusations, including that of plagiarising from Virginia Woolf’s Orlando and Hyder being an Indian and/or Israeli spy, could not deter readers and some critics from declaring Aag ka Darya to be Urdu’s greatest novel ever written. Her latter works only reaffirmed that the most prominent place in the Urdu novel’s hall of fame belonged to her. So thunderous was the success of Aag ka Darya that the subcontinent’s literary world reverberated with it for quite some time. Some critics believe that some novels, such as Ahsan Farooqi’s Sangam (1961), were only echoes of Aag ka Darya.

The second decade witnessed the rise of novels, some of them being remarkably fine — strangely enough, most were penned by women. Khuda ki Basti (1958) by Shaukat Siddiqui was an instant bestseller. With Marxist leanings and stolid realism, it presented in common parlance the Pakistani urbanites struggling with economic and social issues. Fazal Ahmad Karim Fazli’s Khoon-i-Jigar Hone Tak (first published from the UK in 1958 and from Pakistan in 1960) offered a look at the 1945 famine in Bengal. A female writer who struck a chord with serious readers and critics alike is Nisar Aziz Butt. She is one of the few authors who usually do not publish their short works, such as short stories or essays, in literary journals and remain mostly unfamiliar for the reader or the critic. That’s exactly what happened to Butt’s first novel Nagri Nagri Phira Musafir (1960). But the other reason is that at times it begins to drag.

Alipur ka Aili (1961), Mumtaz Mufti’s autobiographical novel, is among much debated works. Capturing the essence of human psychology is something it masterfully achieved through the characterisation of Aili, or the author’s inner self. The novel ends with the words “Pakistan, Pakistan, Aili’s heart raced away”, which points towards the dawning of a new era. The theme of Talash-i-Baharan (1961) by Jamila Hashmi was Partition. It says a nation was in search of springtime, but it found bloodshed instead. Though much praised, the novel is perhaps overrated.

Khadija Mastoor’s Aangan (1962) is often referred to as the ‘perfect novel’. Describing the struggle for Pakistan, it ends with Independence. Her other novel Zameen (1987) begins with a refugee camp in Pakistan, depicting the economic and political upheaval that entailed Independence. Udaas Naslain (1963), a novel by Abdullah Hussein, while recording the subcontinent’s cultural and social history especially in the post-WWI era, asked what the “lost generations” got from Independence. And the answer he gave was “the rat race”.

Abla Paa (1964) was Razia Fasih Ahmad’s first novel and with its publication she shot to fame. Muhammad Khalid Akhtar’s Chakiwara Mein Visaal (1965) deserved perhaps the same treatment, but it was given little attention until Faiz Ahmed Faiz praised the novel that vividly captured Karachi’s slum Chakiwara and its eccentric characters. The decade came to a close with two works by female writers: Altaf Fatima’s Dastak Na Do (1965) and Rasheeda Rizvia’s Larki Ek Dil ke Veerane Mein (1967). However, both in the 1950s and 1960s, reading Ibn-i-Safi’s detective novels was all the rage.

During the 1970s, Urdu produced some more fine novels. Just have a look at what the so-called ‘lean patch’ gave us: Razia Fasih Ahmad’s semi-humorous Aazar-i-Ishq (1971), Rasheeda Rizvia’s Usi Sham’a ke Aakhri Parvaane (1970) and Ghar Mera Raaste Gham ke (1970), Nisar Aziz Butt’s Ne Chiraghe ne Gule (1973), Jamila Hashmi’s Rohi and Chehra ba Chehra Rubaru, Syed Shabbir Hussain’s Jhok Sayal. Many of these are truly remarkable, and among them Intizar Husain’s Basti (1979) stands out.

Jangloos, Shaukat Siddiqui’s three-volume novel, was serialised in a digest for about seven years, between 1977 and 1984. Much underrated, in fact virtually ignored by critics, Jangloos is perhaps ‘the great Pakistani novel’. Just as ‘the great American novel’ is supposed to reflect the American people, language and culture at a particular point in time, so too does Jangloos, capturing with its characters, landscape and peculiar parlance the rich and diverse culture of Pakistan’s provinces.

The 1980s and 1990s witnessed a renewed interest in the Urdu novel, entwined with experimentation. Some works from the 1980s are: Hijab Imtiaz Ali’s Pagal Khana (1980), Bano Qudsia’s Raja Gidh (1981), Anwar Sajjad’s Khushiyon ka Baagh (1981), Altaf Fatima’s Chalta Musafir (1981), Ghulam-us-Saqlain Naqvi’s Mera Gaon (1982), Abdullah Hussain’s Baagh (1982), Jamila Hashmi’s Dasht-i-Soos (1983), Anis Nagi’s Deewaar ke Peechhe (1983), Fahim Azmi’s Janam Kundali (1984), Abul Fazl Siddiqi’s Tarang (1987), Salma Awan’s Tanha (1989), Shaukat Siddiqui’s Char Deevari (1991), Razia Fasih Ahmad’s Sadiyon ki Zanjeer (1986), Abdullah Hussein’s Qaid (1989), Intizar Husain’s Aage Samandar Hai (1995), Mustansar Hussain Tarar’s Raakh (1997), and Anis Nagi’s Camp (1998), to name but a few.

The 21st century brought with it divergent styles of fiction writing to Urdu and some novels written are Asim Butt’s Daera (2001), Khalida Hussain’s Kaghzi Ghaat (2002), Bano Qudsia’s Hasil Ghaat (2003), Mirza Athar Baig’s Ghulam Bagh (2006), Muhammad Hameed Shahid’s Mitti Aadam Khati Hai (2007), Obaidullah Baig’s Rajput (2010), Mohammad Ilyas’s Barf (2010) and Baarish (2012), Younus Javed’s Kanjri ka Pul (2011), Hasan Manzar’s Insaan Aye Insaan (2013), Akhtar Raza Saleemi’s Jaage Hain Khwaab Mein (2015) and many more. Mustansar Hussain Tarar, a travelogue writer whose novella Fakhta surprised many, has published at least six novels in the 21st century.

It is a regret that I could not mention many novelists and their works here. But one can conclude that the Pakistani Urdu novel has come of age. It has artfully reflected the peculiar Pakistani political and social milieu. Its rise and rise shows that there has never been any dearth of good Urdu novels, at least not in Pakistan.

The writer is a former chief editor of the Urdu Dictionary Board and now teaches Urdu at the University of Karachi.

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, October 30th, 2016