Between Commas and Full Stops: Story of an Army Wife
By Zeenat Azra Khan
Paramount Books (pvt) Ltd
ISBN: 978-9692107266
152pp.

Between Commas and Full Stops is a heartwarming dose of autobiography by Zeenat Azra Khan. A slim and handsome book, running at a little over a hundred pages, it is a vivid memoir of her life as the wife of a decorated army officer and later diplomat, Maj Gen Shujaat Ali Khan.

The book is equal parts travelogue and reflections on a wide variety of topics under the sun. There are anecdotes aplenty, ruminations on a very active life well-lived, and narrated with quiet charm and humility.

When I first got my hands on the book, the author’s name was immediately familiar. A quick search on my shelves unearthed a slim yellow cookbook she’d written — From My Table to Yours — featuring recipes from different countries, introduced with charming bon mots. A later conversation with Zeenat revealed that her recipes also used to feature regularly in the pages of Dawn up until a few years ago.

The book starts with a brief account of ancestry. Zeenat traces her descent to the Navayath people — an ethnic Muslim group with Arab ancestry and links to Iran, Iraq and Yemen, who entered India in the seventh century. Zeenat was anointed Amtul Rahim Zeenat-un-Nisa, the name later miraculously shortened to Zeenat Azra Mohajir. The ‘Azra’ is perhaps inspired by an Urdu variant of Rider Haggard’s famous novel, She — the name of the semi-immortal seductress, Ayesha, is changed to Azra.

The memoirs of a decorated army officer’s wife describes the idiosyncrasies of military life, the glamour of travel, and also the myriad challenges the family faced and overcame

The surname also excites comment: “What do you mean by Mohajir?” asks a class teacher in the newly formed state of Pakistan, “We, ourselves, are all Mohajirs here.” Another teacher clarifies that these particular Mohajirs are descendants of the actual muhajireen, who migrated to Madinah with the Prophet (PBUH) in the early days of Islam. Zeenat’s brother is more confrontational about it when asked: “Have you ever asked anyone named Ansari, ‘What is this name, Ansari?’”

Zeenat describes her childhood, attending convent schools, growing up to the Beatles, and to Twiggy, the world’s first supermodel. In those days, parents would force their girls to read Bahishti Zewar [Heavenly Ornaments], Maulana Ashraf Ali Thanvi’s handbook of religious instructions for young women. Actors Muhammad Ali, Zeba and Waheed Murad would grace the silver screen. Families would sit together to watch the legendary TV dramas of Haseena Moin. Grandparents were a blessing in the home and sibling life, with all its attendant drama, was ubiquitous.

Growing up, Zeenat takes over the running of the household, leaving her mother free to tend to her father, whose health is in decline. Marriage is soon to follow, with a proposal from family friends in the neighbourhood. The boy, Shujaat Ali Khan, is a new army recruit. Their engagement is overshadowed by the ‘fall of Dhaka’, when he is taken prisoner by Indian forces.

In one of the many highlights of the book, Zeenat’s husband describes an escape attempt from the Indian prison camp. The Pakistanis model the effort on the epic Steve McQueen war film, The Great Escape. They put together a small team to start digging a secret tunnel in the bathrooms. The earth is lugged out in bags made out of trouser legs, and then scattered out on the tennis fields, where water is sprinkled on it. As the moment of escape approaches, the plan is leaked to the Indians and retributions follow, with rations reduced to half. Ultimately the prisoners are repatriated to Pakistan and the young couple is reunited.

Thus starts the second major phase of Zeenat’s life, as the wife of an army officer, constantly on the move. She describes how to be a military wife is to “forego the privilege of rooted existence”, to “exist only as nomads.” Moreover, the duties of an army wife far transcend running a household on a military base. There are expectations: one has to contribute to the community, interact with other military families, there are social activities aplenty, visitors and dignitaries have to be entertained, there are community projects to run etc.

A series of postings fling the family back and forth across the width and breadth of Pakistan. Zeenat describes the awe-inspiring beauty of our remote regions, the changing cultures, alongside accounts of roughing it out on the meagre salaries they received.

A series of postings in Europe follow. In their spare time, on their very limited budget, the family decides on ambitious camping treks all over the continent. They walk the walkways of Paris, see bullfights in Spain, and visit the wonderful tulip gardens in the Netherlands, the Sistine Chapel in Italy and the casinos of Monte Carlo. They try to cross over into East Germany for a peek. There are also afternoon prayers in the Grand Mosque at Cordoba. This kind of extended adventure is a relic of bygone times — now, in our fractured and noisy world, it seems like so much wishful thinking.

The family returns to Pakistan, where Zeenat’s husband now receives a senior position with the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI). There is again a frenzy of activity — the difference now being that conversations at home cannot include office topics. The last major phase is his posting as ambassador to Morocco.

It is a tough but rewarding existence and Zeenat dives into it with grace and gusto. She describes the idiosyncrasies of military life, the glamour of travel, and also the myriad challenges they faced and overcame as a family. The spirit of her outlook and her writing is best encapsulated in a Maya Angelou quote towards the very end of the book: “If you look back, do so forgivingly. If you look forward, do so prayerfully. But the wisest course would be to be present in the present… gratefully.”

Reading this book — and reviewing it — in today’s climate evokes very complicated feelings. In one sense, it bears a distinct sense of nostalgia, of a time when the world was saner, when Pakistan still seemed to be on track for great things, when the sky was the limit. A sense of abiding love and loyalty for the military pervades the book; it is a constant living, breathing presence in the background — and this is how it should be.

The highest values are celebrated, not just in letter but also in spirit. An example: a corps commander, due to retire shortly, comes to visit the family. Shujaat instructs Zeenat: “I want to make this visit of theirs a very memorable one… Any lack of enthusiasm from our side will make him go back with a feeling that due to his impending retirement he is being ignored.”

What a colossal distance from those days to ours. And this is the problem: many a reader would contest that this book valorises and romanticises institutions which have been a perennial challenge — some would argue, the ultimate challenge — to righting the course of our country over the past 75 years. So how does one interpret these stories, how does one harmonise them with what we see around us today, with the country hovering at the brink of the abyss?

And perhaps the answer is that we need more such stories. If we are to ever find sanity, if we are to mend fences, books like these can be a reminder of what the future could be like.

The reviewer teaches at the NUST School of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, Islamabad.

He can be reached at taha.ali@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, November 10th, 2024