Author: Mohsin Hamid
Publisher:

A Literary Feast : Moth Smoke.

Not much is known about Mohsin Hamid in the realm of South Asian English literature. But if this reviewer adds a "not yet" to this fact, it may not be much off the mark. One only has to pick up a copy of "Moth Smoke" and read it to appreciate one of the finest novels ever written on "the other" Pakistan (one that exists but is seldom heard from). The very candid portrayal of drug use, adultery, betrayal and class relations within that society in this book is simply brilliant.

It could be said that this is a story about three main characters. But that would be incorrect. As one can agree, the main focus is on Darashikoh Shezad (Daru), Aurangzeb (Ozi) Shah and the fiercely independent woman that comes between them Mumtaz Kashmiri a.k.a. the closet journalist "Zulfikar Manto". But any reader that picks up this book cannot overlook Murad Badshah and Manucci.

So let us journey through parts of this book from it`s historical beginnings: "Imprisoned in his fort at Agra, staring at the Taj he had built, an aged Shah Jahan received as a gift from his youngest son the head of his eldest. Perhaps he doubted then, the memory that his boys had once played together, far from his supervision and years ago in Lahore". His youngest son being "the winner" Aurangzeb and the presented head, that of the eldest Dara Shikoh.

Power sharing has been a problem in South Asian/Muslim history through several millennia (and remains so). It is against this backdrop that Mohsin Hamid is able to weave a tale of modern Pakistan, not just as a casual writer, but as a master storyteller. Here is one example of Darashikoh describing Murad Badshah his future "business partner" and charas (hashish) supplier: "He speaks what he thinks is well-bred English in an effort to deny the lower class origins that color the accent of his Urdu and Punjabi. But like an over-ambitious toupee, his artificial diction draws attention to what it`s meant to hide."

Such writing is not rare in this novel. The following is another glimpse of this author`s best as he has a leftist-leaning college professor introducing societal stratification in the following lines: "There are two social classes in Pakistan." Professor Superb said to his unsuspecting audience, gripping the podium with both hands as he spoke. "The first group, large and sweaty, contains those referred to as the masses. The second group is much smaller, but its members exercise vastly greater control over their immediate environment and are collectively termed the elite. The distinction between the two groups is made on the basis of control of an important resource: air-conditioning."

This hilarious yet very effective use of air conditioning by Mohsin Hamid in Moth Smoke identifies who has the power (sometimes literally) in modern Pakistan and who doesn`t. Darashikoh loses his bank job due to bad encounter with a member of the elite "Pajero" or SUV Culture, and is forced to sell hashish to make ends meet (while graduating to the use of heroin himself). His partnership in "boutique robbing" with Murad Badshah (who likes to sweat) occurs after he falls "from cooling".

On the elite, Mohsin writes: "But in the Shah household, in the compound financed by the corrupt millions of Aurangzeb`s father, the hum of the air conditioner was sucking the life out of a marriage. For air-conditioning can be divisive not only in the realm of the political but in the realm of the personal as well". Because Aurangzeb (Ozi) Shah loved AC`s and his wife Mumtaz hates them. "You see Mumtaz was over-air-conditioned and longed to be uncooled, while Darashikoh was under-air-conditioned and longed to be cooled."

Darshikoh`s mystical servant boy Manucci is truly loveable. Here they are, watching a moth: "A few times he seems to touch the flame, but dances off unhurt. Then he ignites like a ball of hair, curling into an oily puff of fumes with a hiss. The candle flame flickers and dims for a moment, then burns as bright as before. Moth smoke lingers."

This attraction of the moth to a flame is often used as a symbol of love in South Asian literature. This fascination, the passion (the Junoon) of love remains dangerously forbidden. Nuclear bombs hold a similar deadly fascination, as does the use of heroin, along with Darashikoh and Mumtaz`s adulterous relationship in a place where: "The city plays host to a fundo convention the weekend after the Kamikaze moth`s last flight. The bearded boys are celebrating our latest firecracker with parades, marches and speeches. The score is 6 to 5 and we`re up."

The character Aurangzeb (Ozi) is one that we cannot really like, hate, or even feel sorry for. Here is his best description of himself: "You see, the problem is, I make people jealous. Which is understandable. I`m wealthy, well connected, successful. My father`s an important person. In all likelihood, I`ll be an important person. Lahore`s a tough place if you`re not an important person."

The leading lady Mumtaz is a free woman in a society with many restrictions. She is at ease with her sexuality (but not motherhood?) and at the same time along with Manucci possesses a unique sense of morality that most of the other characters in this book lack. Readers will very easily relate to her.

But it is Murad Badshah, the drug pusher, the scoundrel, the survivor and the sidewalk philosopher who shines in this book (He would have made Fanon proud). He narrates:

"This is how I see things. People are fed up with subsisting on the droppings of the rich. The time is ripe for revolution. The rich use Kalashnikovs to persuade tenant farmers and factory laborers and the rest of us to stay in line." He reaches under his kurta and pulls out the revolver I`ve seen once before. "But we, too can be persuasive." He explains why he plans to rob boutiques: "they represent the soft underbelly of the upper crust, the ultimate hypocrisy in a country with flour shortages."

Much more can be said on "Moth Smoke". Some has already been written by well known writers. Mohsin Hamid has produced a true literary feast here. It is a work unlike that of Bapsi Sidhwa, lacks the strong spice of Rushdie, and perhaps is closer to a Naipaul. But some readers may find that it is really the Urdu language`s short story master Saadat Hasan Manto that is lurking in the stylistic background here.

This book is recommended for South Asian "Desis" and all others who want to know about that "other Pakistan". Many will discover something unique within its pages. And some of us, that something may be what we left behind, and now prefer not to acknowledge.