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thedoctorreads's review
4.0
“... our apologies to the people who picked this up thinking it was an instruction manual.”
So ends the preface for the brilliantly enlightening collection of short stories curated by Shandana Minhas. 'Breakups' billed as Volume 1 of the Mongrel Book of Voices (hopefully!) series, is at first sight as unabashedly Pakistani a publication as they come: bold, in your face and unapologetically local.
With a line-up of writers that spans the length and breadth of Pakistan, alongside others hailing from Sri Lanka, India, Iran, Egypt and New Zealand, the scope of Shandana Minhas's vision is slowly revealed to be a of a more surgically intimate nature-- the end of not just love, but the end of naivety at the hands of awareness. What could be a more traumatic break-up than that?
Soniah Kamal's macabre 'The Party Giver' would give Stephen King a run for his money, a short story that skilfully captures both the melancholy of marriage and the desolation in the aftermath of a tragic loss. I have never felt such growing horror at the hands of any writer as much as by Madam Kamal, and over the length of hardly three pages, no less. Kudos!
Imran Yousaf's harrowing 'Comfort Food in Karachi' is no less horrifying but for far more visceral reasons-- Mr Yousaf not only manages to find the exact pressure point in the mind of his readers but to skilfully carve out every bloodied image with the double-edge knife of his words like a battle-hardened surgeon. He is one writer, I, for one, cannot wait to read more of.
What I found most captivating about the collection was the numerous ways in which the theme was interpreted by poets-- be it through Harris Khalique's poem on the 1947 Partition or Aziza Ahmed's much more personal interpretation 'Computer'. So, not only does the collection showcase the far too unappreciated talent of Pakistani writers, it also (again, finally!) gives a voice to the emerging voices of Pakistani poets writing in English. The result is a searing glimpse into the future of literature in Pakistan-- bright or bleak depends on what support we, as readers and consumers, choose to give.
As Shandana Minhas says, 'Spend Rs. 350/- on a coffee and moan about Pakistani publishing while you drink it, or spend Rs. 300/- on a book and support a new Karachi indie press.'
It is truly that simple. May your reading of this gem of a book be as energizing as your coffee!
So ends the preface for the brilliantly enlightening collection of short stories curated by Shandana Minhas. 'Breakups' billed as Volume 1 of the Mongrel Book of Voices (hopefully!) series, is at first sight as unabashedly Pakistani a publication as they come: bold, in your face and unapologetically local.
With a line-up of writers that spans the length and breadth of Pakistan, alongside others hailing from Sri Lanka, India, Iran, Egypt and New Zealand, the scope of Shandana Minhas's vision is slowly revealed to be a of a more surgically intimate nature-- the end of not just love, but the end of naivety at the hands of awareness. What could be a more traumatic break-up than that?
Soniah Kamal's macabre 'The Party Giver' would give Stephen King a run for his money, a short story that skilfully captures both the melancholy of marriage and the desolation in the aftermath of a tragic loss. I have never felt such growing horror at the hands of any writer as much as by Madam Kamal, and over the length of hardly three pages, no less. Kudos!
Imran Yousaf's harrowing 'Comfort Food in Karachi' is no less horrifying but for far more visceral reasons-- Mr Yousaf not only manages to find the exact pressure point in the mind of his readers but to skilfully carve out every bloodied image with the double-edge knife of his words like a battle-hardened surgeon. He is one writer, I, for one, cannot wait to read more of.
What I found most captivating about the collection was the numerous ways in which the theme was interpreted by poets-- be it through Harris Khalique's poem on the 1947 Partition or Aziza Ahmed's much more personal interpretation 'Computer'. So, not only does the collection showcase the far too unappreciated talent of Pakistani writers, it also (again, finally!) gives a voice to the emerging voices of Pakistani poets writing in English. The result is a searing glimpse into the future of literature in Pakistan-- bright or bleak depends on what support we, as readers and consumers, choose to give.
As Shandana Minhas says, 'Spend Rs. 350/- on a coffee and moan about Pakistani publishing while you drink it, or spend Rs. 300/- on a book and support a new Karachi indie press.'
It is truly that simple. May your reading of this gem of a book be as energizing as your coffee!
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