My review of Mudassar Bashir's Punjabi Novella Rekh

Prolific Mudassar Bashir’s latest novella, Rekh, revolves around a character named Ashi, short for Ayesha, who’s on her way to becoming a medical doctor and is in love with her maternal cousin Khalid. In general, the cousins in her family are close to one another and a lot of relatives congregate during wedding ceremonies in the family.

The patriarch Hashim Ali enjoys the love and respect of his four sons and a daughter, who’s the mother of Ashi. Ashi resists her beloved Khalid’s suggestion that they let their parents know about their mutual attraction for each other because she wants to finish her MBBS without distraction. Circumstances, then, force Khalid to marry Ashi’s sister. As more tragedies pile up, Ashi appears to be the worst loser.

Although the title Rekh may suggest that the author intends to explore the concept of predestination and how it shapes our view of our lives, it is also a character study of a strong-willed person. While Bashir studies the character by situating the narrative within an educated, modern, middle-class milieu, he also does so by invoking the price traditional values exact from a person.

Bashir tests the limits of love and sacrifice in a deceptively simple story. Ashi has a chance to marry Khalid again when her sister dies in childbirth but cannot bring herself to share the bed with Khalid after her sister. Ashi chooses instead . . .

You can read the rest here.

The Day the Cookie Froze

 

After playing baseball in a newly renovated park, I ended up in a shopping area near my home with my younger son. We had to buy a few things which I didn't want to put off till tomorrow, including a new baseball glove for him. He was a little resistant, mostly because he was getting hungry. He tried to trick me into getting something from a fast food menu but I reasoned that today we needed to stick to eating home cooking. He agreed, but I felt bad and suggested that perhaps something small from a cafe might not be too bad. Peet's was right there before we could reach a sporting goods store. My son couldn't decide what to get after staring at a very uninspiring display of sugary items. Also, one of our neighbors was going to drop off a few cinnamon rolls later in the evening, but I knew we were going to be spending quite a bit of time deciding which glove to get for him, not to mention other distractions in the store. So before he could lose his appetite, I pointed out the lone cookie. "How about that? It's not that big."

   "Yes, sure!" he said.

   "Can we have that cookie please?" I asked the person behind the cash register, a young Asian-looking woman. 

   Just as she reached for the cookie, she inquired, "Do you want it heated?"

   Did she say Eated? Is that how young people now talk? I have always believed in the impermanence of a language.

   "Heated?" I asked just to be sure.

   She nodded, leaving me puzzled.

   "Do people really get their cookies heated?"

   "Yes, they do," she said, frozen midway, in case I changed my mind.

   "Wow, really, I thought you were joking!" I said softening up. 

   I took out my wallet. I noticed my son was as usual beginning to get embarrassed. The young woman slid the cookie into a small brown bag and handed it to him. I usually ask him to say Thank you, but I was distracted. 

   "We do it," she offered of her own volition, "because that's what they do it at Starbucks."

   "Starbucks!?" I asked, amused yet irritated.

   "Yes, because it's frozen," she added. 

   The idea began to sink in. 

   "Because it's coming from a warehouse where it's been kept for quite some time," I conjectured.

   "Frozen. That's right," she said.

   "And we don't know if this cookie was made ten years ago or a year ago," I offered.

   "Correct."

   "And they must have used chemicals for preservation."

   She pursed her lips and nodded.

   "But we know that because we are smarter than they think," I added, not knowing what I meant by that.

   She nodded again as if signaling that though she sold the cookie, she wouldn't eat it herself. My son bit into the cookie, annoyed, as we walked out. He chided me lightly for getting into an unnecessary conversation, and when I tried to explain, he said he understood it. I knew he did because there's more awareness about healthy eating at his school. I wondered if there was hope if despite growing awareness and knowledge regarding corporate fast food and chain cafes those business models continue to control our balls, guts, heads. The younger generation, their activism and their knowledge, can take on anything, I believe. Only time will tell how long they are willing to eat the frozen cookie!