Pakistan has been a difficult nation. Ever since the state was created in 1947 on religious lines, there have been a number of problems— social, political, economic and even cultural. The founding fathers of Pakistan had visualised a utopian state with no exploitation and no hardships. The irony is that the religious identity which held the people together into governance in 1947 has been the harbinger of all problems. 

Basti deals with these problems indirectly. The novel does not talk about any marked political change that contributes to the displacement of Muslims. But the effect of the changes of 1947, 1965 and 1971, that wrought in them distrust about the abilities and concerns of their rulers are explored in great length.

The novel is an effort to look at the nation more closely, particularly after the humiliating defeat in 1972 and the division of the state. Each character in the novel tries to understand it in all its perplexities. While the politics of Pakistan is at the background, the effort seems to be looking at the history, not only of the land, but also of individual selves. The back and forth narration explains how, for the people of Pakistan, there had been a past, which never dictated the present and the present may not dictate the future. The contrast is complex encumbered with multiple meanings. 

Zakir, a professor of history, is the protagonist of the novel. As interestingly put forward in the Introduction by Umar Memon, Zakir means ‘one who remembers’ and thus making it possible to read the novel as a spiritual allegory.

Through Zakir, the novelist starts the spiritual journey from the old undivided India to the newly formed Pakistan and then to the amputated Pakistan. The other characters— like Ifran who later becomes a journalist, Salamat who is projected as an angry young man, Zavvar, the youngest scholar who joins civil services— all contribute to the understanding of Pakistan which neither offers them spiritual freedom nor the much needed political stability.

Spiritual quest

The journey of the spiritual quest starts in a place called Roopnagar. Though the place is imaginary, it has all the ingredients of a pre-independent town in India. (The Hindu-Muslim amity which was the hallmark of the period, is vividly brought out here.) Zakir’s family moves from Roopnagar to Vyasapur because Zakir’s father, Maulana Sahib, starts getting disillusioned with the place.

But the partition of 1947 forces the family to leave Vyasapur also for a typical Pakistani town (Lahore?). Though in the beginning they are excited about the place, slowly they begin to feel that it is not for them either. The spiritual dimension to the destabilization process makes the novel more poignant.

The novel offers a lot of scope for symbolic reading. For instance, the symbolism of monkeys being killed by live electric wires and subsequent adaptability of monkeys and the people of Roopanagar to technological ‘advancement’ as also the symbolism of the ‘grave’ which represents past, history, being so dear to Muslims, runs throughout the novel.

The two major concerns of the novel seem to be history and war— history, not an academic exercise, but a lived experience, and war, not a tool to settle political disputes, but an event which completely erases personalities. The myths in the novel are drawn from Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism. 

The slow pace of the narration is indeed in tune with the theme of the novel. The journey is in some sense imposed by the masters of religion. During this spiritual journey, Zakir, being a history professor, keeps a low profile. He is not proactive. He receives what is given to him and does not even question. In a way, he represents the Muslim intelligentsia, who are not articulate about their own conditions.  

Pritchett has done a wonderful job as a translator. One cannot make out that the novel was originally written in Urdu. However, there are a few places in the book where some confusion concerning myths might arise for non-Indians, but the glossary and notes given at the end makes the book extremely readable.

Basti
Intizar Husain
Translated by W Pritchett
Oxford Univ Press, 2007, pp 254, Rs 345.