IN SEPTEMBER, INTIZAR HUSAIN WAS MADE AN OFFICER OF THE ORDER OF ARTS AND LETTERS OF THE FRENCH ACADEMY, IN RECOGNITION OF HIS CONTRIBUTIONS TO URDU LITERATURE. FOLLOWING IS THE ADDRESS HE MADE ON THE OCCASION.

YOUR Excellency, the Honorable Ambassador of France, ladies and gentleman.

How can I express my gratitude for this honour? I am still immersed in a sea of amazement and I wonder if I am going through a dream. The truth of the matter is that I know my worth. I kept asking myself if I am truly worthy of such an honour. But then I thought that I may or may not be worthy of such an honour, but the language and the literary tradition with which I have affiliated myself definitely deserve such distinctions.

This made me think about how the tradition of the ‘new’ developed and flourished in Urdu. In the forefront of this movement were those writers who had drunk deep from the fountainhead of European literary traditions. As I stand here, I am thinking of three remarkable men of letters who focused their vision in particular towards the literary tradition in France. It seems as if they were standing with arms wide open to pick as many flowers, to absorb as many colours as they could to fill up their hearts with. These writers were Manto, Miraji and Muhammad Hasan Askari.

Manto began his literary career by plunging headlong into translating short stories from French authors. In his state of excitement, he even proclaimed that Maupassant was the greatest short story writer in the world. Then comes French poetry. What greater admirer of this poetry can there be other than Miraji. For his own part, one can find him enjoying the flowers and fragrance from all countries, but the enthusiasm with which he greets poets like Baudelaire, Villon and Mallarmé is unique, and his absorption in translating these poets and writing introductory essays about them is a unique example, one of its kind.

Then we have Muhammad Hasan Askari. The way he took a deep plunge in to the literary and cultural traditions of France and the enthusiasm with which he intro-duced these subjects to readers in Urdu is hard to talk about. He wrote a monthly column called ‘Jhalkiyan’ (Glimpses) and each time he would discuss the trends pre-dominant in France and what Sartre has been up to this time. As for Sartre, we know that there was an entire period in modern Urdu literature which resonated with his name. Then we have Camus, whose novel The Stranger was translated at least three times. His other novels have also been translated into Urdu, including the last one, The First Man. The novelist passed away while he was writing it.

My friends will comment that Manto, Miraji and Askari are all in their own right, but what about you, say something about yourself. But what can I say? As the saying goes, the elephant’s footprint contains the feet of all other animals. Whatever I know of this tradition in general and French fiction in particular, I owe it to these predecessors of mine. Moving on, I am reminded of a novel by André Gide which bears the title The Counterfeiters in its English translation. It is a strange and fascinating novel. It ends but does not come to an end. As we reach the last few pages, a group of new characters emerge. So is another chapter about to begin? But lo and behold, the last line of the novel is written. The novel reaches its end.

However, there is no ending. Instead of saying Finis or The End, it says “To Be Continued”. It was from Gide’s vision that I learnt that once a story begins, there is never any conclusion. When the author’s pen comes to a halt, we tend to think that the novel or the story has come to an end. But the story still goes on. This is why the end of a good novel or a story does not leave us sitting in peace.

In conclusion, I would like to focus again on my seniors — Manto, Miraji and Muhammad Hasan Askari. I regard this award as a continuation of their bounty and with profound respect, I dedicate it to them.

— Translated from the Urdu by Asif Farrukhi