Review: Remnants of a Separation

Rating: 5 Stars

I got Aanchal Malhotra‘s Remnants Of A Separation from Karachi, back in July 2018. Since then, it had been sitting around on my shelf with all the other numerous books that I never read. One fine day, sick from my overdose of thrillers, I just picked it up to see what it was about.

Objects have a way of inspiring the mind to remember things it might have forgotten.

Aanchal Malhotra, Remnants Of A separation

To say that reading this book was difficult, is an understatement. Every story, every page reminded me of my grandparents. These stories are their stories; of hardship and resilience at the time of the partition of India. The horrors that both the sides witnessed, the loss, the displacement, the helplessness, it all becomes real as you read the accounts of some very real people. This is not fiction, yet sometimes that is all you want it to be.

Not everything is about darkness and despair though. While the actual time of the partition was traumatic, most of the narrators reminisce about their youth in a way that is endearing. It makes you want to return to your own childhood. Even with this lightness, the fact remains that circumstances forced most of these people to let go of their dreams. They had to grow up overnight.

Almost all these stories have one thing similar in them; the suppression of conscious memory of those dark times. They might never have talked about the past to their own families, but when they finally talk about it, all of them become fascinating story tellers, each with their own unique story. Yet all these stories are essentially the same.

Displacement, often sudden and mostly in the dark of the night, is a frightening concept. The thought of leaving all your worldly goods behind and starting anew in a place where you have no roots and nothing to fall back on, is a scary one. Add to that, the breakdown of common human decency and a return to barbarianism, and it’s no wonder everyone wants to suppress their memories of such times.

Reading Remnants Of A Separation gave birth to a lot of regrets too. I wish I had thought of documenting the lives of my grandparents while they were alive. The stories that I heard growing up became blurred and clouded by the passage of time. Maybe because while they were being told, no one was really interested in listening. My son did a unit on displacement last year, and I will be eternally grateful to his school because when he interviewed my paternal uncle for the unit, I learned the harrowing story of a 6-year-old boy who came to Pakistan without his parents. I never knew the details, and never bothered to ask either.

Aanchal Malhotra has done something that I wish I had been able to do. I wanted to keep reading and never stop. Remnants Of A Separation is the type of book that we should make our children read. Textbooks teach us only one side of history, often biased and mostly opinionated. We need to know our past and learn from it, not glorify and worship it.

As a Pakistani, I can only be thankful that Pakistan came into being that August in 1947, but the way it was done, and the politics of division that made men into animals, is something that no one, Pakistani, Indian or Bangladeshi, can ever condone. Anger, intolerance, greed, these words can never define the destruction that was caused by human hands. It was, and will always be, a dark blot on humanity. All of us need to revisit that time again and again so that we never forget the lessons that the Partition taught us.

Review: A Place For Us

Rating: 4 Stars

All individuals are a unique sum of their life experiences, so much so that reading the same book at different stages in your life sometimes results in completely different reactions. The place where I am right this moment in my life made A Place For Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza resonate with me very deeply.

The book starts off with the wedding of Hadia, the eldest daughter of Rafiq and Layla. We are immediately made aware of the tensions within the family, as Amar, the youngest and only son, returns after 3 years of leaving his family, to do his duty by his sister. In all this, there is also Huda, the typical middle child, overlooked by not only by the family, but also by the author herself.

As we go back and forth in time, we are given a glimpse into the life of a Muslim couple who moves to the US from India, and try to bring up their three children according to Muslim and Indian traditions and culture. As is the case in most cases, the children all try to rebel in their own individual way.

Being a parent bringing up my kids in a foreign land, while I understand the worries of the parents and their fear of the children losing their religion, I don’t agree with trying to scare them into conforming. As this book shows, pulling the strings too tight causes them to break ultimately. When you have two children who are good at being obedient, it is natural to assume that the same mode of parenting will work on the third. Most of the time this is not so. We, as parents, know our children better than anyone else, and this is why sometimes we need to keep our egos aside and change our ways in order to avoid regrets later.

The book jumps from one time to another without any warning, and as the pattern starts becoming evident, you realize the importance of all the different instances from the eyes of three people, Hadia, Amar and Layla. We see how small betrayals and forgotten reactions all lead to the eventual breaking up of this loving family. We also see how people form opinions according their own understanding of the situation, instead of trying to find the real facts.

It is very sad that open communication is something that is lacking in most of our interactions, especially when it comes to families. In most families, the father is considered the one who lays down the laws, the disciplinarian, the person his own children are hesitant to approach. In such families, the mother assumes the role of the middleman, the one who is responsible for changing the father’s mind. No one realizes that some things are lost in translation when you have indirect communication. This can sometimes cause rifts in families that become almost impossible to breach over time.

As I read the book, there were a few instances where I felt that the writer did give in to stereotypes, and the constant strain of “The Ali Boy” was really getting on my nerves. So, I was completely ready to give this book 4 stars and move on. Then came the last part.

What was missing in the whole book was there in the last part. As I read about a man trying to do his best by his family, I couldn’t help but feel for that man. A person brought up to hide his feelings can never feel comfortable letting his emotions show. The way Mirza has written about Rafiq’s thoughts is moving and heart wrenching. The struggles of a father who is unable to voice his love for his children, are brought to life in the last part of the book. I couldn’t help but think of my own father, who while lying in bed, too sick to move, and in so much pain, was worried about how he had been unfair to his son! It all felt personal, and I want to admit that I cried while reading the last part of this beautiful book.

This is a book that is meant for everyone. I even found myself wanting my teenage son to read it even if only to understand how parents love their children in their own different ways. A beautiful book that will stay with me for a long time.

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