THE resounding success of the Karachi Literature Festival (KLF), whose first edition was organised in 2010, has enabled Pakistan to showcase its rich literary culture on a global scale. Another positive thing that’s come out of the annual event is that other cities in the country have realised its significance and now we have similar festivals, albeit on a comparatively smaller level, in Lahore, Faisalabad and Hyderabad. This is, by any stretch of the imagination, a positive sign. But the big question is: has it impinged on the production of works of literature in Pakistan? How many publishing houses are putting out novels, novellas, collections of short stories and poems on a regular basis? This is not an easy question to answer because when it comes to books published in Urdu and the regional languages, no proper system is in place to keep a check on the distribution process, or for that matter, to ascertaining the sale of books. A handful of the bigger companies do have a systematic approach to business, but by and large the authors writing in Urdu are seldom aware of the fate of their books once they emerge from the printing press.

This cannot be said about books printed in English (I use the word ‘printed’ deliberately). The publishing houses that focus on books in English are generally well-organised. However, and despite the international fame and recognition earned by Pakistani authors writing literature in English, it will be worth taking note that there are not many publishing companies in Pakistan that commission works of fiction or poetry in English. Books penned by writers such as Kamila Shamsie and Daniyal Mueenuddin are published abroad, and if you go to Sunday book bazaars you can get their reproduced versions at a considerably cheaper rate.

It is against this backdrop that 2016 cuts an interesting picture. For some reason, it was a relatively quiet year when it came to authors writing in English, looking beyond the borders though they may have been for publishing houses. Shandana Minhas’s novel Daddy’s Boy, narrating the story of a boy who gets to know about his past through his uncles, did create a buzz, but could not sustain it the way her previous offering Survival Tips for Lunatics did. A reminder: Survival Tips for Lunatics won the French Embassy Fiction Prize at the KLF in 2015.

Pakistan’s publishing industry has done well by authors writing in Urdu, but those working in English appear to lag behind

There was conjecture about Mohammed Hanif’s third novel and Shazaf Fatima Haider’s second, but their readers will have to wait for a while. Shamsie is also reportedly working on her next book, as is H.M. Naqvi.

Apart from the established names, as it were, a few other novels penned by writers of Pakistani descent living outside of Pakistan hit the stands in 2016. Among them were The Warehouse by S.S. Mausoof, Native Believer by Ali Eteraz and Fire Boy by Sami Shah. The fact that the books, so far, have not been able to generate keen discussions suggests, perhaps, that the past 12 months weren’t a particularly exciting period for English novels written by Pakistani writers.

For the Urdu writers, on the other hand, 2016 turned out to be a pretty fertile year. The good thing about the books was that they represented an eclectic mix of genres — collections of short stories, biographies, collections of poems, and novels. In terms of their placement(s) in the literary canon, it’s too soon to pass judgement on that.

Let’s begin with the genre of poetry. Some of the finest senior poets of our time published new books in 2016. These are Andherey ki Sargoshian by Azra Abbas, Hashion Mein Rang and Frame se Bahir by Tanveer Anjum, and Lahu se Dastkhat by Sabir Zafar. Among the younger lot of poets, one collection pleasantly surprised many. This was Imran Shamshad’s intelligently titled Imran ki Shaeri. Shamshad uses the kind of vernacular in his poetry that may sound Karachi-specific, but on closer inspection is revealed as being painfully relevant to the sociocultural milieu of modern-day Pakistan. The following two verses may elucidate the observation: “Wajid waiter hai Hotel Mona Lisa mein, Lekin apni Mona Lisa dhoond raha hai, Akram khalu hon ya Nayyar ke abbu hon, Kuchh logon ko aaj bhi thana dhoond raha hai.” [Wajid is a waiter at Hotel Mona Lisa / But he is in search of his own Mona Lisa / Be it uncle Akram or Nayyar’s father / The police are looking for some people.]

This is the kind of poetry that could not have been written, let’s say, four or five decades ago. Now, the purists might nitpick and point to the boyishness with which these verses have been composed; if they do so, they will be making a grievous mistake.

Andherey ki Sargoshian has a distinct Azra Abbas feel to it, as it should, touching upon the pressing issues of the age we live in through prose poems, both by employing symbols that are part of the opulent tradition of Urdu poetry as well as by using realism that sometimes borders on hyperrealism. The poem ‘Tum Zameen Per ho to Aasmaan ko Dekho’ is an example:

Tum zameen per ho to aasmaan ko dekho
Tum aasmaan per ho to zameen ko dekho
Donon mein kitna eka hai
Sadyon se ek doosrey ka sath nibha rahey hain
Nahin thaktey ek doosrey ko dekhtey huay
Kabhi kabhi aasmaan ko zameen ki chinta ho jati hai
Kabhi kabhi nahin... ab to har waqt
Zameen ko udas dekh ker kabhi kabhi wo ro deta hai
Samandar in aansuon ko apni goad mein bhar laita hai

[If you are on Earth, look at the sky
If you live in the sky, look at the planet Earth
They have unity
They’ve been together since time immemorial
They don’t get tired of looking at each other
Sometimes the sky worries about planet Earth
Sometimes it doesn’t... now, almost all the time
Seeing the sadness surrounding Earth, it cries
And the ocean gathers all those tears in its lap.]

Two collections of poems by giants of Urdu poetry, who are not with us any more, also saw the light of day in 2016: for the first time, the complete works of Sarwat Hussain (who passed away in 1996) and Raamuz by Jaun Elia (who passed away in 2002), comprised of poems never published before.

Of the Urdu novels that appeared in 2016, Mirwah ki Raatein by Rafaqat Hayat was received with fervour. The novel, Hayat’s first attempt at the genre, is one of the most talked-about of the year.

Seasoned writer Hasan Manzar’s Habs was launched at the recently held Urdu conference in Karachi. Manzar is a master storyteller. So far, his book has been received well by readers. Atif Aleem’s Mushkpuri ki Malika and Buland Iqbal’s Tuti Hui Deewar have also had their share of admirers.

A couple of collections of short stories also pleasantly surprised readers of Urdu literature. They were Zameenein aur Zamaney by Mubeen Mirza and Khaak ki Mahek by Nasir Abbas Nayyar. Both writers are not primarily known for their creative pursuits — Mirza edits a magazine and Nayyar is an acclaimed critic — but their stories have ushered in a new era of Urdu fiction. Nayyar has particularly surprised many because his tales are a stark departure from his criticism which is steeped in research aimed at analysing the effects of colonisation and globalisation on literature. The creative side to his personality underlines a philosophical bent tinged with the tradition of storytelling that is rooted in soil.

In criticism, Dr Asif Farrukhi’s book Charagh-i-Shab-i-Afsana, on the life and works of the late Intizar Husain, has been widely appreciated. Dr Farrukhi had begun work on the book in Husain’s lifetime. It is a detailed account of the celebrated short story writer and novelist’s literary trajectory. Dr Rubina Shaheen’s research work on eminent critic Muzaffar Ali Syed titled Muzaffar Ali Syed — Ek Muta’lea is another valuable tribute.

A book that has so far remained under-discussed, but which should be read with attention by critics and avid readers of adab, is poet Khalid Moin’s collection of essays Rafaqatein kia kia, which includes a moving account of his father’s and wife’s illnesses. His prose writing is a bit of a revelation, as the diction that his readers are accustomed to reading in his ghazals is not found in his nasr.

The writer is a Dawn member of staff.

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, December 25th, 2016