Adil Najam
We at ATP like books. Over the last many months we have featured and discussed a number of books that relate to Pakistan in various ways.
I must confess that I had always hoped that we would talk more about books than we have. I hope we will be able to do so in the future. As a step towards that goal, we would like to invite our readers to share with us your suggestions of books on Pakistan that are worth reading.
This is not a popularity contest. We have no awards to give. We merely want to collate a list of books on Pakistan that people consider to be interesting reads. Specially those that you would consider recommending to others for whatever reason.
We have only two criteria:
- First, that the books you suggest must be about Pakistan, and significantly so. We, of course, realize that many Pakistanis read many books that are not about Pakistan, but the focus of this blog is not only on ‘All’ Things Pakistan, but also ‘Only’ things about Pakistan.
- Second, for the purpose of this first exercise please restrict your suggestions to books in the English language. This is a pragmatic, and not an ideological, criteria. The universe of books in Urdu is much larger - especially when one includes works of fiction and poetry - and hopefully we will have a separate exercise on those. For now, we wish to start small by focusing only on English language books.
The plan right now is to make this post and list a standing feature and to keep adding to it as readers share their suggestions and ideas. Hopefully this will be a useful service to those interested in Pakistan and Pakistaniat.
The Indus Saga by Aitizaz Ahsan.
For a book on how ISI fought Afghan war read “Afghanistan : The Bear Trap” by Brigadier Mohammed Yousaf and Mark Adkin. However the book made me sad when I considered what a Pyrrhic victory that was for Pakistan.
I notice a lot of people reading books on Pakistan by Westerners. Some of these Westerners, like Stephen Cohen or Owen Bennett Jones, indeed have insight and knowledge to offer but most of them write rubbish books quickly published in periods when “Pakistan” is a hot topic in the news/international politics, and all such books have the theme of “Pakistan on the brink!!”.
“Empires of Indus” by Alicia Albinia
“CUTTING FREE” an autobiography by Salma Ahmed.
“Stones into Schools” by Greg Mortenson, author of “Three Cups of Tea”
http://www.stonesintoschools.com/
Ethan Casey’s book “Alive and Well in Pakistan” is an enjoyable read. Not too heavy but insightful nonetheless.
Ethan Casey’s book “Alive and Well in Pakistan” is an enjoyable read. Not too heavy but insightful nonetheless.
I’m finishing up on “Homeboy” by HM Naqvi. Leaves any work of fiction by a Pakistani author I have ever read in a pile of dust, goo and lint. What imagery! what language!
I’ll give you the first paragraph of the book for reference.
“We’d become Japs, Jews, Niggers. We weren’t before. We fancied ourselves boulevardiers, raconteurs, renaissance men, AC, Jimbo, and me. We were mostly self-invented and self-made and certain we had our fingers on the pulse of the great global dialectic. We surveyed the Times and the Post and other treatises of mainstream discourse on a daily basis, consulted the Voice weekly, and often leafed through other publications with more discriminating audiences such as ***** or *******. Save Jimbo, who wasn’t a big reader, we had read the Russians, the postcolonial canon, but had been taken by the brash, boisterous voices of contemporary American fiction; we watched nature documentaries when we watched TV, and variety shows on Telemundo, and generally did not follow sports except when Pakistan played India in cricket or the Knicks made a playoff run; we listened to Nusrat and the new generation of native rockers, as well as old-school gangsta rap, so much so that we were known to spontaneously break into Straight outta Compton, crazy ******** named Ice Cube / From a gang called Niggaz With Attitude but were underwhelmed by hip-hop’s hegemony (though Jimbo was known to defend Eminem’s trimetric compositions and drew comparisons between hip-hop’s internal rhythms and the beat of Kurdish marching bands). And we slummed in secret cantons of Central Park, avoided the meatpacking district, often dined in Jackson Heights; weren’t rich but weren’t poor (possessing, for instance, extravagant footwear but no real estate); weren’t frum but avoided pork—me on principle and Jimbo because of habit—though AC’s vigorous atheism allowed him extensive culinary latitude; and drank everywhere, some more than others, celebrating ourselves with vodka on the rocks or Wild Turkey with water (and I’d discovered beer in June) among the company of women, black, Oriental, and denizens of the Caucasian nation alike.”