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Manto, Faiz
and Zamurrad are in good
Wry humour and sharp wit define Khalid Hasan's writings By Irfan Javed I never met Khalid Hasan. Yet I met him in the dingy hall of the now defunct Imelia Hotel in Sialkot. I once saw him crouching in front of Madam Noor Jehan while they shared a joke. I again saw him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye standing by Zulfikar Bhutto while the latter addressed a public rally. Once I saw him smiling when writing his obituary of Prof Cyprian entitled Ijaz Cyprian is dead: long live Eric Cyprian. The last time I saw him, he was braving his way along a pavement in Washington on a stormy winter night. Now I will see him no more. It was a couple of decades ago when I was advised to read his weekly column in The Nation, to improve my language skills, though it had the same impact on my language as the snake had on biting Irshad Kazmi, the poet. "The snake died much earlier than the poet," Khalid Hasan had written in his vintage style. Needless to say, I became his devoted reader. His likes and dislikes were intense, transcending reason. He admired Faiz and Manto to the point of reverence and was ready to go to any extent in their defence. He devoured Urdu literature, earned his living from English and was most comfortable in Punjabi. He had a natural bent for exaggeration when it came to people whom he admired. He once wrote about his extraordinarily talented class fellow and friend Zamurrad Malik, who died young of a massive heart attack in front of a book shop on The Mall, Lahore, "He could read palms, work out a horoscope, decipher Egyptian hieroglyphics, read and write Gurmukhi, quote at random from any of Freud's books – and accurately explain the inner workings of the Kremlin, recite Punjabi mystical poetry, speak for hours on impressionist paintings and explain why Picasso was different from a coconut." His sharp and witty style of writing and his poetic nature can easily explain his affinity for the crisp writings of Manto, and his love for the poetry of Faiz. Madam Noor Jahan, about which both he and Manto wrote extensively, Manto in Noor-e- Jehan, Saroor-e- Jehan and Khalid Hasan in Rearview Mirror among numerous columns, was also a passion common between the two. Nostalgia resonated frequently in his writings and dominated his personality. He fondly referred to his acquaintances who had died decades ago and often quoted anecdotes from his college days. This yearning for days gone by must have driven him to translate reminiscences of old Lahore rendered by that incorrigible nostalgic A. Hameed. Had that obsession with the past not been there, the genius of Zammurrad Malik would have gone unnoticed. He reminisced about his days with Bhutto with the same intensity as he passionately recalled the photogenic memory of Chacha Muhammad Din who sold oranges in front of Murray College, Sialkot. Wry humour and sharp wit defined his columns. Only Khushwant Singh, from across the border, outsmarted him in this field. His writing style seemed simple and pointed on the surface, but in fact had a plethora of meaning underneath. Khalid Hasan's integrity was exceptional. It is well known that he resigned from his government post in protest against the persecution of Bhutto, and remained his ardent admirer. However, while writing on Bhutto's persona, he was candid when he wrote about his "congenital suspicion of friends, high sensitivity to personal criticism, a penchant for squandering public funds." Similarly in his sketch of Benazir Bhutto after her assassination, while affectionately praising her, he did not overlook her personal weaknesses and administrative failings. Having a penchant for inviting controversies on political and literary fronts, he was never short of ideas. His utterances in the documentary Islamic Bomb created quite a stir. When Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi wrote a character sketch of Faiz Ahmed Faiz, mentioning the poet's personal weaknesses without questioning his literary credentials, Khalid Hasan was devastated. He wrote that it would have been better if Qasmi Sahib had not left the post of sub-inspector in the Excise Department and had not devoted his life to literature. Needless to say, Qasmi Sahib was deeply hurt. But then, Khalid Hasan was a human being prone to emotional highs and lows. Ironically, one of his best works, also the least noticed, Style book: a guide for writing simple and correct English, is a book in which he very intelligently pointed out common mistakes most local writers make when writing in English. Admittedly it is not a work of great scholarship, but it contains valuable guidelines on writing well, significant enough to make it an important reference book. Similarly, Rearview Mirror is a gem of a book. It contains four extraordinary memoirs. Certainly, no one has written memoirs in English in Pakistan better than him. These are brilliant masterpieces with a unique literary flavour. Had Khalid Hasan not written a word in the newspapers and had he not produced a single memoir, his extensive translations of Urdu writings in English would have been a feat sufficient to sustain his fame. Translation is a pathetically neglected field in Pakistan. Great works of literature that were and are still produced in Urdu have not been able to find their proper place in the world of literature due to the non-availability of good translators. Khalid Hasan took on that thankless job with vigour. Fortunately, that momentum lasted till the end. While skilfully translating the works of Manto, Faiz, Ghulam Abbas and A. Hameed, he did not compromise on quality. He single-handedly did the work of an organisation. While visiting Sialkot, I went to a number of places that he has mentioned in his sketch of Sialkot to discover that either the buildings had been demolished and replaced by new but aesthetically distasteful edifices or they were degenerating through neglect. However, his name brought affectionate smiles onto the faces of a few inhabitants, living in the Old Fort Area, who had personally known him. They remembered him as a vivacious person who regularly visited Sialkot and thoroughly enjoyed evenings with his comrades. It will be an overstatement to say that Sialkot, or for that matter, even Washington will not be the same after him. Life will keep going along on its twisted path bringing new faces into the limelight while consigning old ones to oblivion. The journalistic fraternity in Pakistan might soon get too involved with the political drama to remember him. But I am sure that Faiz Sahib and Manto are in good company, and so is Zamurrad Malik who actually died on Feb 6 2009, when Khalid Hasan died. The News : Feb 22,2009
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