Book Review - Dozakhnama: Conversations in Hell

Title: Dozakhnama: Conversations in Hell

Author: Rabisankar Bal

Translator: Arunava Sinha

To be honest the book had me just after I read its name, "Dozakhnama: Conversations in Hell"....Dozakhnama....what an interesting sounding word.

I had mixed feeling of should I buy this to read or look for something else to read in Landmark, Chennai. The reason for the mixed feelings were unambiguous.....the book was a translation from the original Bengali to English by a guy called Arunava Sinha.....Hmmmm translations I have come across those....and some of them are seriously crap. I had once purchased an English translation of Nirmala by Munshi Premchand....Believe me the translator had RAPED English language in the book.... I had put down the book after reading just 2 pages even after I had spent 200 bucks on it..Till date I haven't read Nirmala :(

But when I read the book's jacket....I knew I cannot miss this one...It had the names of two of India's greatest ever writers in it....One who's ghazal's these days seem to be remembered only by alcoholics and the other ....well modern India doesn't even know that he was an Indian.

Mirza Ghalib

I am talking of Mirza Ghalib and Sadat Hasan Manto. One who was ridiculed during his living days as a writer of incomprehensible poetry and the other who was hounded throughout his life for writing and had the temerity to order his epitaph to read "....Under tons of earth he lies, still wondering who among the two is greater short-story writer: God or He.”

Let me confess here, I am a huge huge HUGE fan of Sadat Hasan Manto....I will definitely write an essay on him, whenever I get the time

Sadat Hasan Manto

Well back to the book review, the book begins with an old man handing a young journalist a manuscript which according to him is the last writing of Manto. The journalist cannot read Urdu and therefore takes the manuscript to a well-read young lady to translate to English.....

Here begins the story....

Manto has died and decides to talk to the one person he looked up to all his life.....Mirza Ghalib....Yes, my friends, they are two human beings who died 100 years apart and they are having a conversation....from their graves and let me tell you the conversation is witty, intellectual, peppered with historical true facts and describes the life and times of 1840's as well as 1940's India.

The book tells the story of the Mirza Ghalib who lost his father in a war thereby leaving Mirza and his mother without a house. Mirza grows up without a father figure in his life as he lives with his maternal grandparents. The obsession of owning a house can be felt throughout the novel with Mirza ultimately dying without owning a house himself. The book paints a very different picture of the 1857 revolt which had been witnessed first-hand by Mirza. Peppered with ghazals and small anecdotes the writing is exquisite.

Now coming to Manto's part of the book. Manto shows his irascible self. His obsession with prostitutes and his justification of "there needs to be someone there to write down a dream of a prostitute" makes him all the more endearing. Manto had an equally interesting life and describes life in pre-partition India and then Pakistan. The stories and anecdotes including intercepts from his banned story, "Thanda Gosth",are each a gem worth treasuring for life.

The book has alternating chapters with Mato followed by Ghalib talking to each other. Each chapter carries forward the timeline with short stories and anecdotes. So in a way it can be said to be an anthology of stories too. However a word of advice, the book is heavy reading and not something which can be considered to be popcorn fiction. How I wished I knew Urdu to read the ghazals written in the book. Although trust me the English translations are equally well written. The stories in the book grow on you as you read them...

If I needed to choose sides, then my choice for obvious reasons will be the Manto part of the book. As according to me, Sadat Hasan Manto was one of the greatest storytellers of pre-partition unified India. An author whom India consciously removed from its consciousness and an author whom Pakistan never accepted as one of its own.

The book as I have already mentioned was written in Bengali and translated to English by Arunava Sinha. While we need to bow our heads before the author, Rabisankar Bal, for having the vision to write this...I would like to doff my hat to Arunava Sinha, the translator of this book. Let me put down in writing, never ever has a translation from a regional language to English been done so beautifully.

This is a book I will treasure throughout my life and will definitely be reading again and again.