Review
of Punjabi Novel “
Skeena
” by Fauzia Rafique – Roop Dhillon
Every
so often an important novel is written, enriching the canon of Literature
of Punjabi.
Skeena
, a novel by Fauzia Rafique is one of those. initially released in
Pakistan, available only in Shahmukhi script. It was released in 9 cities
there, and was a resounding success. This is of course very positive for
Punjabi, a language neglected on it’s home ground, especially in
Pakistan, and positive for Fauzia Rafique, for her novel does not pull any
punches, nor does Skeena shy away from often taboo themes in Islamic
society, and indeed all Punjabi communities. To place it in a genre, one
could call it Feminist Literature. That in itself is amazing, as it has
gained kudos in
Pakistan
, considering the environment there since Zia, and definitely since 9/11.
The book was released last month in
Canada
both in the Gurmukhi transcript ( The version I have read) and translated
in English. I think indeed it should be translated into French and Spanish
as well.
Skeena
, is a
journey of a smart girl, who questions everything. We meet her at the age
of seven, and the story then takes us to young adulthood, into the
Pakistan of General Zia, to
Canada
, and a forced marriage with a complete stranger to finally finding love
with the last person she expected under the Sun amongst the Blueberry
fields of BC. This is no
Hollywood
saccharine filled story, or Bollywood fake fantasy, or despite what I have
said stereotypical, east is worst and west is best plot.
Skeena
is the stark and true experience typical of many a Punjabi woman, in this
case bought up in Islamic Culture, but it can so easily apply to those
women bought up in Sikh or Hindu culture as well. What is the common
factor? Punjabi attitudes.
Reading
Skeena, bought up many issues for me, general themes and points
significant to the state of Punjabi Literature today. I think it needs to
be examined in the context of these issues.
Techniques
in how to write prose have moved on a lot in the last 100 years. The other
factor that has moved on is the subject matter and how honestly it is
dealt with. What may have seemed great in Russian and English literature (
other than Urdu and Hindi, the greatest influencers on Punjabi language in
the last 100 years) in Victorian times, and pre-partition
India
/
Pakistan
is now stale, boring and irrelevant. There has been a malaise in Punjabi
literature, confounded, I think by the following factors.
1)
Male domination in writing
2)
Religious domination, but often the
incorrect interpretation of the faith
3)
Sycophantic behaviour of the established
writers
4)
Greedy Printer Publishers
5)
Political strangulation of the artist
6)
The public itself not reading
7)
Writers life experience only restricted
to the village
8)
Conservative values
All of
the above are shattered in
Skeena
, if not by the protagonist, certainly Rafique’s writing.
It is a
well know fact that society is judged culturally by two yardsticks. Its
religious beliefs and it’s art. Punjabi society puts little value on the
latter, though it then bemoans why it’s language and rituals are being
lost by the young, especially those in the Diaspora. Russian society,
English society, Spanish society, taking three examples, puts great
emphasise on language and literature. The English worship Shakespeare, to
the extent one thinks no one anywhere in the world or in any other
language can write like him. Obviously a false premise, but one that shows
how important literature is, to reflect societies wants, truths and
desires ( as
Skeena
does). The Russians treat their writers like demi-gods. What is more
interesting is that in all of these societies, the greatest readers are
the women. Not the men. So clearly to ensure that one’s literature is
relevant and well read, one can not ignore women. Yet, Punjabi has done
so, never giving women writers ( Amrita Preetum is the one true exception)
a voice. Worse, the men do not have a clue what it is the women want to
read or what experiences they need to read to fulfil their spiritual
needs. This failure means that Punjabi writers can never be read that
widely, and how can any man really capture what has happened to a woman
that well? Feminist literature is a necessity in Punjabi, a voice as
important as the Dalit’s.
There
are positive points in faith. Islam brings unity, encourages belief in one
God. Hinduism brings order and Sikhism has placed all men of all faith
equal, and more importantly, women at the same level. The failure has come
in interpreting these faiths, or ignoring the real messages, or using them
to suppress weak members of society. In Sikhism, it is clear, man and
woman, apart from the obvious physical differences, are equal in rights.
Yet in practise Punjabi culture dominates, placing women as chattels. This
is even worse, when viewed
through caste, as in Hinduism, and if ones takes
Skeena
’s word for it, much worse in her society. Conservative values such as
this often clash with the democratic soul of art. Punjabi literature will
not truly shine again, until such conservative views are challenged,
without the fear of a Fatwa. In fact, all the latter achieves is “ Apnay
pairaan vich kuhari marni”. The proof of this is seen in the way
Salmon Rushdie’s Satanic Verses was treated, and Behsti, the play in
Birmingham
. We have all forgotten what made Punjabi literature fantastic. Guru Nanak
Ji was a rebel, and all of his poems and writings in the Adi Granth are a
direct assault on the established attitudes of organised religion, not
God. The same is completely true of all Sufi literature. Yet if one was to
do that now, the extremists will come falling down like bricks on you, a
fact so highlighted when all that Skeena wanted to do in Zia’s Pakistan
is visit a few Sufi Melas.
I found
Rafique’s writing here brave and fresh. I have been constantly told what
Punjabi people will take or not take, and not to write certain things. I
was told off for using the word naked, to describe a woman. I was told I
could not show love between two women, by one publisher ( it was not
pornographic, yet despite him saying Punjabi readers were not ready,
I put it on a blog, and have had so far 3,000 hits) or that I could
not depict incest, because it was wrong. Subjects that I know cover
reality, and subjects that I know English Literature has dealt with for
decades. So I sanitised much of my writing. Guess what, Rafique has not.
Skeena
openly shows two lesbian couples, one Pakistani.
Skeena
openly describes masturbation, has swearing, and deals with reality. Has
it made it a bad novel, has it made it into some porno? No, it has helped
match it with the best of European and Oriental Literature. This is grown
up stuff, and much needed. The new generation of Punjabi reader is much
more savvy, and is bored of reading about village life and Z-TV style
bickering over land, between jatani and durani et cetra. That is why no
one reads Punjabi anymore. So considering that most Punjabi Literature
nowadays is written by Sikhs in Gurmukhi, to find a blunt and in your face
novel coming from a Pakistani woman, is not only refreshing, but makes one
wonder how many gems across the border are there?
Navel
gazing by the established writers is strangling voices like Rafique’s.
We need to ignore these dinosaurs, who will be dead soon, and read and
write more novels like
Skeena
, to kick start Punjabi again. I think my last few points are obvious, and
I don’t directly need to go into them, but rather they will come
apparent as we cast our eye back on
Skeena
stylewise and plotwise.
The
style of
Skeena
is completely different from anything else I have read in Punjabi, to
date. It is much easier to follow, despite it’s local accent ( I have to
admit, there were a number of words used that were unknown to me, which I
assume are unique to the area Skeena comes from, for example Vahna,
instead of Vekhna, and Aouna instead of Puchna), as the construction of
the sentences is such, one can follow what is happening or deduce it, when
one is unfamiliar with words. It was actually clearer and easier to read
than most Indian produced Punjabi, as it was not littered with Urdu and
Hindi words ( unless the character spoke in these languages). This made it
very friendly for the Diaspora Punjabi student, compared to many other
books.
The
structure of the sentence, although pure Punjabi, felt familiar, and I
could not tell at times whether I was reading a book in English or
Punjabi, due to the way it was written. Metaphors and similes were used in
the same way that English applies them. Again this makes the book a good
choice for a Punjabi student from the west. The breaking up of the novel
in four parts was inspirational. Quite often it felt like I was watching a
film, rather than reading a book. All this helped. In Media Res,
repetition and back story were often used as well. Again this worked very
well. The language was of a classy high level, despite the foul words
emitting from some characters’ mouths’. In conclusion the writing
style placed this book at an international level. You never felt the
writer was semi literate and only exposed to the locale of the village, as
is often the case with most Punjabi writers. She understands the world of
the village, where Skeena’s Bha was head honcho, she understands the
City, in this case Zia’s
Lahore
. She understands
Canada
( although poor
Skeena
does not). On reflection, this may be the greatest Pakistani Punjabi novel
written in the noughties.
The
plot follows a girl who is not afraid to question the irrational going on
around her. I don’t want to give too many plot details away. But in
summary, we have a seven year old girl who questions the treatment of
servants, even when they are polite.
Skeena
is taught to say please, but scolded when she applies this to the
household help.
Skeena
does not shy away from questioning the illogical nature of Wahabbi Islam
as imposed in Pakistani society from Bhutto’s time right up to now.
Especially on the treatment of women. What is more confusing for her is
when Gamu, a servant less than a few years older than her ( she is
depicted as seven) beats his wife up, her mother has him flogged, but in
other cases it is suggested he has the right to do so, as the woman ( as I
understood from this novel) is there to obey the man. She witnesses the
same servant drunk with her brother questioning the local Mullah on this
point of faith. Dissatisfied they force alcohol down the man’s throat.
But empathy does not last too long for this man, as he falsely accuses a
young woman walking at night on an older Skeena’s behest, with a young
man, of having sexual relations and gets the whole brainless village to
stone them.
Skeena
wants to be a Lawyer but is told that good Muslim
woman do not enter the man’s domain, strangely by the very mother that
protected Gamu’s wife. She is forced to ignore any academic ambition
once in bloom, compared to when she was a child. Gamu left an indelible
mark on her, but ran away as in drunkenness he killed a woman he mistook
for his wife. This is very relevant later in the story. Annoyed
Skeena
goes with a friend Rafu to a Pakistani People’s Party meeting. This
event is to prove fateful. Not only is she then forced to remain in the
village, having bought shame upon the family by being arrested, but is
made to marry a man she does not know, over the phone in
Canada
.
Skeena
keeps a scrapbook, which highlights all her feelings and the people she
looks up to, including leftist types, and those that some societies may
interpretate as Muslim Terrorists. Fatally she takes this book abroad with
her, to recall her life in
Pakistan
.
It is
in
Canada
, life becomes worse rather than better. She escapes Zia’s Pakistan, to
find herself married to a Doctor who does not love her, has her ( unknown
to her) as one of many wives, and despite his middleclass appearance
reminds one of the Maori husband in Once Were Warriors, on a good day.
Worse she is kept housebound for a whole decade. Life becomes even more
unbearable, as she is barren and has
the worst mother in law one can imagine. Do her family in
Pakistan
help? No, as Behsti and Iszat are higher values than her daily life. And
so is set the scene for how an educated Punjabi Muslim girl must face the
world, surrounded by morons ( who misname her the same!) until one violent
night circumstances lead her to be able to break the yolk, and find
herself in the arms of a Sikh lover, who unlike all the other men in her
life, treats women with respect, and kindness. One would think she has
found a beautiful conclusion but the plot thickens, and her life is made
unbearable again, after two planes are flown into twin towers by Arabs one
fateful autumn day.
Her new
society can not distinguish between her background and that of the Arabs.
All Muslims are stained with the same brush, in the great democracies of
North America
. Even her Sikh lover Iqbal can not escape the image Osama Bin Laden has
conjured up in the collective Canadian mind. All brown folk look alike
don’t you know. This is where the diary she keeps, with clippings of
genuine freedom fighters in it, proves fateful. After all in Freedom of
speech
America
, what is an educated person doing, expanding their mind with reading Carl
Marx, or empathising with the Palestinians? Why is a Muslim woman involved
with a Sikh? Surely a middle age Pakistani woman must be a the centre of
Al Qaeda?
Having
spent the first part of her life fighting the unfair aspects of Islam and
Punjabi culture, she is now forced to justify the same, and being from
that culture becomes the crime.
This is
the background, in sketch, of the novel. I would heartily recommend
reading it, if you want to flesh all this out and to see if she copes with
it, and how.
The
flaws are minimum. Plotwise the Gamu story threw me off a little and I was
confused with how, when sleeping with a non Muslim, she did not notice the
obvious physical difference that should be there. I
spoke to Fauzia about this, and she told me “This was to show her
naivety, a characteristic reared in young women through their upbringing
where sexual aspects of life are never discussed, keeping them as ‘
sitting ducks’, ignorance being synonymous with innocence”. So she was
a naïve woman, who had only known Ihtsham’s body, and knew not. What am
I talking about? Well I am going to keep this vague, because it is
something I hope intelligent students who perhaps one day may study this
book in high school will spot. Maybe not, as in the 6 years of it’s
publication Fauzia tells me I am the only one who has spotted this obvious
point.
Perhaps
it is the obvious testimony to
Skeena
’s naivety. This is a tragic character, the modern Puro, an educated
Punjabi Pakistani Muslim woman, who was never given a choice in the
direction of her life. The sad thing is, it was not always the men, but
the woman, one so close to her, who failed to assist her, or how can I say
this? Jankay is haal vich ous nu pahiya. It brings to mind, what Debi
Maksoospuri once sang, “ Aurat aurat naal vair karma kio nahi chaddi?”.
This is
a must read, with a very realistic plot, and honest perspectives on Islam,
those against it, woman, how Punjabis treat them, and how as a country
Pakistan went from Jinnah’s vision to the mire it is today; how the west
went from being friends to anti-Islamic. But this is just the canvas.
The
detail is much more interesting. The unity between Punjabi Muslims and
Sikhs, in a strange land. The help from women, even from different
cultural backgrounds. The fall from grace of a man, and then how he turns
his ways around. The desire for a man you love, whose name you do not even
know, and not having the choice to choose your path.
The
failure of Punjabi culture, even today, towards women. In 1699 Guru Gobind
Singh created the Khalsa, which was less about the 5 K’s and actually
all about democracy and equality. One that definitely extended to women,
way before the suffogete movement gained equality in the west. Yet our
people have failed to apply this is practise, especially for our women. As
this is a Pakistani novel as well as Punjabi one, let’s move away from
the Sikh perspective. The ideals of Sufisism are also there…yet we fail
to apply that love, the basis fro Punjabi literature as well.
Skeena
’s mother failed her, when she did not allow her to
go to see the Sufi’s dancing and singing at their festival, a couple of
blocks away. Look at how what
Skeena
then did changed her life forever. The Sufi’s were described by Maa Ji
as unislamic.
Really?
In the
same way we are failing a thousand Skeenas today. A thousand Sukhinders. A
thousand Seemas. How can you
come to any other conclusion, after reading this gem? It must feature on
all University reading lists for Punjabi.
