‘I don’t just create my stories, I weave them’

November 14, 2021

A conversation with Punjabi poet and writer, Nain Sukh

‘I don’t just create my stories, I weave them’

Khalid Mahmood, known as Nain Sukh in the literary circles, is a lawyer by profession and a prolific Punjabi poet and writer by passion. Born in Sargodha, Nain Sukh moved to Lahore some three decades ago. He is the author of several books including but not limited to Theekeryaan, Uthal Puthal, Madho Lal Hussain: Lahore Di Vel and Kikkar Tay Angoor. He recently won the eighth Dhahan International Prize for Punjabi literature, becoming the first Pakistani Punjabi writer to receive it.

In the following interview with The News on Sunday (TNS) Nain Sukh talks about his prize winning book Jogi, Sap, Tirah (The Fright of Jogi), writing about the so-called lower castes, his thoughts on receiving the prize and his future writing plans.

Excerpts:


The News on Sunday (TNS): Jogi, Sap, Tirah is significantly different from your earlier books, especially in terms of craft and themes. Tell us a bit about it.

Nain Sukh (NS): These stories differ from my previously published stories in an important way. The previous ones were about ‘regular’ people; these stories are about gypsies, snake charmers, the untouchables, the lowest of the low, those threatened with extinction. When we write a story we use a lot of description: we show homes, illustrate the placement of sofas, mention the bath, etc. Now take the cases of gypsies. They don’t have any utensils; they have only tales. If you happen to listen to them, you realise that in telling those tales they show their own sense of pride. They may not have a permanent address but they talk about land as their own; they talk about its colours and seasons, etc. Whatever plot I come up with is simple. I tell my story in a few words and even in a very short story, try to tell all there is to tell. So the stories appear more skilled and mature.

TNS: In writing these stories, you appear to be recording the passing away of something that is fading rapidly. At the same time you appear to be mourning the loss.

NS: The people we call gypsies, nomads or untouchables own nothing and many of us don’t allow them to come near us. In this age - the mechanised, digital/ technical age - these people face unprecedented challenges. They are fast becoming extinct. It was a tremendous challenge for me to think enough about them to understand their lives and inheritance, but yes, I do mourn these people. When they are no longer here, more among us will feel their absence. We’ll miss these colourful people who dance and sing and enliven our festivals. They are not too concerned with money. They don’t demand much. We, the earthbound people, are the ones who demand facilities like metalled roads, paved pathways and better drainage. The nomads just live their lives. They enjoy discovering new places; find joy in nature and settle along river banks.

TNS: You are sometimes accused of referring too much to history. Then there are also references in your writing to mythology, folk traditions, folk songs and old idioms. How do you manage to tackle so many things while writing a story?

NS: Yes, I am often criticised for incorporating ‘too much’ history in my stories but I believe it to be a superfluous allegation. This kind of literature has not been produced in our region. Stories like the ones presented in Jogi, Sap, Tirah have especially not been written or told. When you connect with the outcasts, you get everything: history, songs, idioms and their way of thinking and of living. It is by talking to them that I get these stories. I have not created these stories out of nowhere. I have weaved these from the information I have sourced from actual people. A little information about their background is included. This information has not been fabricated; it too has been gathered from them. I have not written these stories so that people should pity them. I just want to sketch them and show them to the world.

‘I don’t just create my stories, I weave them’

TNS: You have won your first Dhahan international prize for Punjabi literature. This is a big deal particularly since you are the first Pakistani writer to get it. What do you think is the significance of such accolades for the writers?

NS: Writers across the world, especially fiction writers in Latin America and Africa, are encouraged by literary awards and prizes. Fiction writing has greatly changed in regions where such prizes have been initiated. When one writes a book, one wants it to be read by as many people as possible. When you get a prize, your book becomes popular and is read by more people. No writer ever writes a book for the sake of a prize; if it is written with such an intention, it couldn’t possibly be a good book. A prize is a kind of support, a kind of recognition. I was not expecting the prize this time. I actually expected to win the prize in 2014 when I entered my novel, Madho Lal Hussain.

The Dhahan family loves the Punjab and the Punjabi language. It works very hard to make this award possible every year. There is no doubt that this is a great contribution to Punjabi literature; towards preserving and propagating it.

TNS: Now that you have been awarded the most prestigious Punjabi literature prize, what are your plans with regard to writing?

NS: I do intend to write some more short stories and novels. In fact, I am writing a novel about Covid. I write at my natural pace and don’t force myself. I was previously writing another novel but I left it midway. Let’s see how this one goes.


The interviewer is Lahore-based Punjabi poet, academic and short story writer. He was a Dhahan Prize finalist in 2014 and 2020 for Shahmukhi books.

‘I don’t just create my stories, I weave them’