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June 2009

Writing from Pakistan

This June, as the world's focus turns to events in Pakistan, our guest editor, Basharat Peer, restores some nuance to our understanding of the region with a selection of literary work that shines a light on the country's unique historical and cultural heritage.

Introduction

Yesterday afternoon in a Lahore hospital I met a young policeman who could neither talk to me nor see me. He was lying patiently on a bed in Gangaram Hospital's Intensive Care Unit. He had just shown…

The First Morning

By Intizaar Hussain

I have no definite answer to questions about why I migrated from India to Pakistan after the partition in 1947. I look back and see a crowded train rushing past lively and desolate towns and villages,…

Translated from Urdu by Basharat Peer

His Majesty

By Vali Ashraf Sabuhi

When I was a child, until someone told me a story I couldn’t sleep. One day I was down with a high fever from morning to night. My mother, Ammajan, sat by the bed massaging my head. Granny Mughlani,…

Translated from Urdu by Nauman Naqvi

Pink Pigeons—Was It They Who Won?

An early August wind whispers through the lush green trees of Alma Ata. The tiny leaves break into applause. “What are these trees called?” I ask the interpreter. “Tuzhi,” the…

Translated from Urdu

The “Monthly Ulloo”

By Muhammad Khalid Akhtar

If you see a small, rotund man, wearing a check suit, whose watch chain has lost all its luster, whose coat collar has a large rose in its hole, whose two innocent, nervous eyes peep from his square rimless…

Translated from Urdu by Bilal Tanweer

The Man With Three Names

By Asad Muhammad Khan

He had three names: Majeeta, Majeed and Ma’i Dada. Those who called him Majeeta had given up the ghost during his lifetime. The few hoary old men who called him Majeed, or “Arey Maan Majeed,”…

Translated from Urdu by Muhammad Umar Memon

An Interview with Wu Wenjian

I was nobody, like a piece of sesame in a big pot of soup.

Translated from Chinese by Wenguang Huang

Learn

Do You Suppose It’s the East Wind?

By Altaf Fatima

The enormous weight of three hundred and sixty-five days once again slips from my hand and falls down into the dark cavern of the past. The windows in this desolate room are wide open. How improbably…

Translated from Urdu by Muhammad Umar Memon

From “Prison Memoirs”

If you happen to be behind bars, you should keep talking . . .

Translated from Chinese by Wenguang Huang

Learn

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