By the time. Verily, Man is in loss.

We see how Żākir starts keeping a diary during the events of Dhaka Fall in 1971. Though the purpose of this activity is to avoid the strayed thoughts that pinch him during the ongoing war, yet these thoughts causes him to fall back to the multiple narratives about the nature of humans, marked by intolerance and selfishness. It is very critical to note that the way Żākir conceptualizes a Bastī (home) changes with the historical events of wars. Thus, the transition from Roopnagar to Lahore linked with the assumed nature of human, places a Bastī on a terrible position of unrest, misery and intolerance. Below are the two passages which illustrate a change in Żākir’s thoughts about the structure and nature of a Bastī. The former one is in reference to his childhood while the later one emerges out of the war days in 1971.

(I)                 “When the world was still all new, when the sky was fresh and the earth not yet soiled, when trees breathed through the centuries and ages spoke in the voices of birds, how astonished he was, looking all around, that everything was so new, and yet looked so old”

(II)               “In his imagination the whole city was burning. Their tails were like torches, and swept through the city like a broom, the crackling, blazing city. So much had already burned, so much was burning. So many buildings had already been destroyed, so many were about to collapse.”

Through Żākir’s diary, we get to know the narratives of Hindu and Muslim history and surprisingly they, too, indicate those characteristics of human nature which I have mentioned earlier. For example during one instant, Żākir’s conversations with his friend Afżāl lead us to a passage on Hindu mythologies and I’ll quote that passage which indicates towards the very fact that how human beings have dishonored the relationships with one another and their surroundings. Hence, a Bastī or home loses its true essence. Here is the passage:

“And this town (Bastī)? No words of piety and peace, no rain of virtuous deeds. The sweet song of the flute has been broken off. No feeling of devotion anywhere. Land and water muddied and mingled. Men and women distraught. People have left their houses. 'The way they'd flee from their houses during an earthquake. The virtuous were oppressed. Women as pure as Savitri had their saris torn to shreds. Happy wives were turned into widows. Laps that had held babies were emptied. Children were at the point of death, with drooping heads and eyes rolled back.”

Later on, we find a repeated reference to the opening verses of 113^th Surah of Quran, Al ‘Asar:

By the time. Verily, Man is in loss.

One can arguably state that this approach towards a man is reductionist but for Żakir, incidents in the life suggest otherwise. The terrific narratives of Krishna, progeny of Muhammad (PBUH) and most importantly, the atrocities linked with partition of India and Dhaka Fall are enough reasons to conceptualize a Bastī, a home, as no more but a disturbed place. Lastly, I’ll quote another passage from Żākir’s diary:

. . . "Ai my son! How did you find the towns (Bastī)?"

"My father, I found the towns (Bastī) uneasy. East, west, north, south, I went in all directions searching for joy and peace. In every direction I found the children of Adam unhappy and troubled."

*English translation of the Novel by Frances W. Pritchett