FICTION: A READER SOLDIERS THROUGH.

A rather embarrassing disclaimer first: the last time I read any Urdu prose was during A Levels. Since then, my Urdu reading has been confined to just catching the flash of 'Breaking News' on television channels.

Thus, I was relieved that Qissa Sipahizada by Khushdil Kiratpuri was a slim volume and I assumed it to be a short, easy read. Part of a series brought out by the Getz Pharma Library of Urdu Classics, it has been translated into English by Musharraf Ali Farooqi as The Adventures of a Soldier.

After having read both the Urdu and English versions, I might say this review is less of a critique and more a foray into uncharted territory for a millennial who has lost her way and forgotten what it is like to think and imagine in her mother tongue.

Context and genre are crucial to understanding any piece of literature, but are often taken for granted when we stay within our comfort zones. Farooqi describes the qissa as 'not the romance as understood in the Western tradition', but something that 'had a role and a function within the society, while remaining accessible to the wider world.'

Musharraf Ali Farooqi's translation of an Urdu qissa is done with panache, but the joy of reading it in the original is unmatched

As I started on Qissa Sipahizada, I quickly realised that I needed more help than what an Urdu dictionary and Google could give. Enter my father, an aficionado of Urdu who took all of 30 minutes to absorb the text. He then turned to me and said, 'Go, get some paper.'

He wrote down the roots of words that relayed dual meaning and nuances. When I suggested I read the Urdu and English side by side so that it would be easier to understand, he explained that in order to enjoy and grasp the beauty of the Urdu text, I should read it as a whole without the crutch offered by the English translation.

This is when I really began to read the story the way it was intended to be read, with my father reminding me that, this time round, it wasn't about scraping through an exam, but enjoying the depth of the language.

Slowly, the familiarity with Urdu returned and letters and words became softer and more melodious on the tongue. The very clever Soldier, the thugs and their father materialised into characters whose motivations and characters I could understand just from the words used to draw their story.

And every time I understood the purpose or meaning of a word or phrase, it led to an apnaaiyat ka ehsaas, or a sense of belonging and ownership.

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