(Annie Khala to her younger admirers) was one of modern Urdu literature's best-known authors. Originally published in Urdu in 1979, this novel is now available in English "" translated by Hyder herself. In it she follows the lives of several characters in a period stretching from India's independence movement against Britain through to the separation of Bangladesh from Pakistan. The main protagonists are a young Hindu, Deepali Sarkar, and a young Muslim, Rehan Ahmed, both with leftist convictions but differing perspectives. Through the story of their ill-starred affair Hyder observes the collapse of the once-shared Hindu-Muslim culture of Bengal.
Uma lay back on the couch and looked very glum. After a while she said, "You are also temperamental, and I gather from this letter that you are also reckless and a daredevil. A sheltered girl like you "" from where did you get this streak?"
"From my grandfather and uncle, I suppose."
"You are very young. Watch your step."
"They were also young when they started on their..."
"On their road to ruin, in different directions of course!"
"You ask me to be careful, and also expect me to undertake this dangerous mission!"
"This thing has to be done. There is no time to lose. Think soberly about it and give me your answer "" Yes or No "" in fifteen minutes flat."
"Yes."
"That was only fifteen seconds. All right, come here. Bolt that door and bring the chair closer. Even walls have ears."
Gosh, she is an awful bore. Now she'll say a stitch in time saves nine. Deepali sighed.
"Tell me "" is there anything you are afraid of?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"Lizards."
"This Rosie Bannerjee. Is she dependable?"
"Absolutely."
"All right. Go and stand before that mirror."
Deepali obeyed. Uma scanned her from head to toe.
"Speak in your Mymensingh dialect."
She spoke a few words.
"Jolly good. Now come here and listen carefully."
"So there you are," said Uma Roy after she had finished speaking in an undertone. "R. [Rehan] informs me that you are an excellent actress, you'll do it."
Deepali remained silent. How on earth was she going to pull it off? But she must. And how did he know that she could act? He must have seen some of her college plays, too."
What is your name?"
"My name... my name Kulsum Bano."
"Your native district?"
"I am belonging to Ghaffar Gaon, Mem-Saheb."
"Do you have any certificates, chits, you know, from your previous employers?"
"No, Mem-Saheb. My uncle, he cook for Nawab Saheb of Bogra... He send me."
"Well done! But don't say 'Nawab Saheb of Bogra!' He is a well-known man," Uma said, and laughed for the first time.
"I'll think up something else. Please proceed."
"That's fine. Will do. R. is right, you can act. Do you have a muslin veil?"
"I'll borrow one from our coachman, Abdul Qadir's wife."
"Jolly good. Fine. Goodness! It's so late "" what will you tell your father?"
"That I asked you a lot of questions about England, therefore it got late. He doesn't mind if I go home late from Rosie or Jehan Ara's place. I don't go anywhere else socially."
Uma pressed the bell, saying, "It's fortunate that my people have gone off to the club."
Karim Khan appeared. "Call the driver."
The bearer went out.
As Deepali left the room, she quite unconsciously threw a glance at the picture of Salome with the head of John the Baptist. Uma came with her upto the porch. "Get off at a little distance from your house," she whispered before saying goodbye.
The car came out on the avenue and gathered speed. Woodland lights vanished in the frosty darkness. Deepali leaned forward and said to her chauffeur, "Please, take me first to the Mission Compound."
FIREFLIES IN THE MIST
Author:
Qurratulain Hyder
Publisher: Women Unlimited
PAGES: xxviii + 378
Price: Rs 350
