Ismat Chughtai. She had much to teach me. Especially her unapologetic manner of writing. Her stories are layered, beautifully. Not like the onion. But like the fluffy whorls of a flower, where the petals entwine one another. Women are the focal point in many of her stories.
But there are some that mirror many of my moments in life. Just as in the Invalid. But her Hell-bound, left me speechless and a bit teary-eyed too. As I managed to wade through the rich description of her brother, Azim, I slowly started to draw comparisons to mine. They did not have the same personality. Hell-no. But they both succumbed to TB in the month of August. For me, that’s enough.
And the way she points at those every, banal emotions that one does not even notice – astounding. There is much to her that I am yet to come across, discover and interpret. But I know that this is the start of a delicious journey of one of my favourite authors.