Arslan Athar’s debut novel Forty Days of Mourning Remembers Hyderabad Deccan through Grief and Silence

Since there has been some recent discussion of Hyderabad Deccan here, I am sharing this book review from DAWN of Arslan Athar’s debut novel Forty Days of Mourning. 

Note: Like everyone else these days, Arslan also has a Substack.   He is a Lahore-based writer. 

Hyderabad Deccan is not merely a setting in this novel. It is a living, breathing presence that shapes the people who inhabit it and the events that unfold. Once a princely state rich in terms of material wealth and cultural plurality, Hyderabad carried a distinct identity that rarely finds adequate representation in narratives of colonial India. Discussions around the British Raj and Partition often reduce history to binaries, and Hyderabad’s nuanced past is frequently overlooked. Athar’s novel resists this erasure with care and precision.

And:

As pressure from the newly formed Indian state increases, Hyderabad’s fragile independence begins to crack. The story follows this slow unravelling, moving from hope and denial to violence, loss and reckoning, ending with the state’s forced integration and the collective grief of a world that disappears almost overnight.

As the wife of a high-ranking army officer, Saleema moves through the city’s elite circles, aware of every whisper of political tension, every shifting alliance. But as the Nizam’s Hyderabad faces the inevitability of annexation, Saleema realises that neither status nor cunning can fully shield her, and the choices she makes ripple through both her personal life and the crumbling world around her.

Continue reading Arslan Athar’s debut novel Forty Days of Mourning Remembers Hyderabad Deccan through Grief and Silence

Marjane Satrapi, French-Iranian artist and the author of ‘Persepolis’, dies at 56

Rest in Peace Marjane Satrapi – As an aside, our 2026 reader survey is open until 7 June – anonymous, roughly five minutes. Please take a moment.


Thanks to Agni for bringing this to our attention.  I remember reading Persepolis years ago and it definitely does provide a different perspective on the Iranian Revolution. 

From CNN:

French-Iranian artist and activist Marjane Satrapi, whose graphic novel “Persepolis” brought home the struggle of the Iranian people to millions around the world, has died. She was 56.

A statement from the Élysée Palace announcing her death Thursday lauded Satrapi’s work, saying her work “captivated a global audience.”

“Her passing marks the loss of a leading figure in French culture and an artist deeply committed to freedom, whose work carried a universal message and earned her immense international acclaim,” the Élysée said.

And:

Satrapi’s work spanned numerous graphic novels – which she preferred to call “comic books” and films. In 2019, she directed “Radioactive,” a British biographical drama film starring Rosamund Pike as Marie Curie.

But she was also an outspoken critic of Iran’s ruling establishment and a prominent supporter of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement that emerged after the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini in police custody in 2022.

Iranian women human rights group, the Narges Foundation described Satrapi as “a fearless advocate for feminism, women’s rights” and as someone who “champion(ed) the struggles and resilience of Iranian women.”

Review: William Dalrymple’s Return of a King: The Battle for Afghanistan

Our 2026 reader survey is open until 7 June – anonymous, roughly five minutes. Please take a moment.


I’m sharing this review that was originally published in 2020. After the victorious Taliban takeover of Kabul on August 15, 2021 and President Ghani’s flight from the country, Dalrymple’s prediction that the American Occupation would end up handing power to the same regime they set out to destroy seems eerily prescient.  This type of book would make a good possibility for BP Book Club. 

Early in Return of a King: The Battle for Afghanistan (Bloomsbury 2013), William Dalrymple quotes Mehrab Khan’s (the Khan of Kalat) remark to the British diplomat and adventurer Alexander Burnes: “You have brought an army into [Afghanistan] but how do you propose to take it out again?” (Dalrymple 161). As the British and subsequent foreign powers would find out, it is extremely difficult to successfully withdraw from Afghanistan. It has now been nearly two decades since the current US-led invasion began in 2001 and President Trump is promising to extensively draw down the presence of US troops, after having signed a deal with the Taliban–the regime that the US went to war to remove. In such a context, Dalrymple’s account of the First Anglo-Afghan War remains extremely relevant.

Return of a King takes its title from the attempt of the British to put Shah Shuja—the grandson of Ahmad Shah Abdali, the founder of modern Afghanistan — back on the throne after an exile of over thirty years in British India. This attempt took place in the context of the Great Game–the British-Russian rivalry for control over Central Asia. The British feared that Dost Mohammad Khan, who had usurped power from Shah Shuja, was pro-Russian and hence decided that he needed to be replaced with Shuja, whom they would use as a puppet leader. While they succeeded in removing Dost Mohammad and giving the crown to Shuja, they could not have anticipated the resistance that they would face. Continue reading Review: William Dalrymple’s Return of a King: The Battle for Afghanistan

Review: The Disciple

Since this is a slow week on BP, I am taking the liberty of sharing this film review of Chaitanya Tamhane’s The Disciple. 

Early in The Disciple, we hear a voiceover which states: “If you want to make money, sing film songs or love songs, don’t tread this path. If you want to tread this path, learn to be lonely and hungry.” This immediately identifies the theme of the movie: the arduous journey to make a career in Hindustani classical music (shastriya sangeet).

The Disciple–directed by Chaitanya Tamhane, known for Court (India’s official submission for the 88th Academy Awards)– is a Marathi-language drama that revolves around an aspiring Hindustani classical singer, Sharad Nerulkar (played by Aditya Modak–himself a classical singer). The film originally screened at the 77th Venice International Film Festival in September 2020–the first Indian film since 2001’s Monsoon Wedding to compete at the festival–where it won the International Critics Prize and the award for Best Screenplay. It was subsequently picked up by Netflix. Continue reading Review: The Disciple

Postmortem (Translation from the Urdu)

I am sharing an excerpt from my translation of Bilal Hasan Minto’s short story “Postmortem” from his collection “Model Town”.  The story is about the death of a beloved pet dog and a little boy’s desire to give him a proper funeral.  This desire comes into conflict with the norms of Islam which forbids funerals for animals.  The entire story can be read in the June issue of The Peshawar Review

It was a frost-laden evening in December when our Happy stopped eating. Naveed Bhai went into the garden, where Happy was sitting quietly tied to his post, to cover him with a coat. Happy looked at Naveed Bhai with barely opened eyes, and smiled. Then he moved his tail weakly from left to right. That was it. This was unlike him. He didn’t stand up and wag his tail vigorously, or play around with Naveed Bhai. Naveed Bhai was worried.

“Happy, Happy,” he cajoled.

Happy didn’t even open his eyes and just moved his tail from right to left. It was clear even that was not easy for him and he did it only out of love for Naveed Bhai. Naveed Bhai’s eye fell on his bowl. Happy’s afternoon meal was sitting there untouched,flies buzzing around it.

That night at the dining table, Naveed Bhai told Abba about Happy’s condition and said with concern it seemed he was ill because he hadn’t touched his afternoon meal. Abba said maybe he hadn’t liked it.

“But he gets this food every day,” I said, “and he always eats it.”

“Perhaps that’s why. If you got the same thing every day you would get tired one day too, wouldn’t you?” Abba said.

“Oh! So now I have to prepare a new feast for him every day!” Ammi said angrily. She hated Happy.

“Anyway, let’s see if he eats anything tonight,” Abba said, wanting to end the conversation.

“But why didn’t he move? I even had to put on his coat while he was lying down,” Naveed Bhai said anxiously.

“Maybe he has a cold. It’s freezing. If he doesn’t eat at night or is the same tomorrow, take him to Dr Walter,” Abba said. Continue reading Postmortem (Translation from the Urdu)

Why Mohammad Hanif uses satire to write about Pakistan|Scroll Adda (Open Thread)

Based on the 1988 aircraft crash that killed Zia-ul-Haq, the military dictator of Pakistan, A Case of Exploding Mangoes made a big splash in the South Asian literary world when it was released in 2008. Readers loved that a desi writer was nailing political satire. Since then Mohammed Hanif has written three more novels, masterfully blending politics and the absurdities of life. He’s so captured the genre that some say he’s the Pakistani Joseph Heller. Hanif has a new book out, The Rebel English Academy. On Scroll Adda, he talks about why he uses satire, his relationship with three languages – Punjabi, Urdu and English – how Operation Sindoor ended up strengthening army rule in Pakistan as well as describing Imran Khan as a political prisoner.

Incidentally, I keep meaning to review Rebel English Academy.  I have a copy autographed by Hanif.

2) Muhammadi Begum in Oxford 

Although many young women are studying abroad and living alone these days, this wasn’t the case for Indian women in the 1930s. But, as they say, there are always exceptions to a rule, and one of them was Muhammadi Begum, who went to study at Oxford University during the 1930s.

The book under review, Deccan Say Duur, Oxford Ke Roz-o-Shab: Aik Naujawan Taliba Ka 1935 Ka Roznamcha, is a reproduction of the diary entries Muhammadi Begum wrote while at Oxford. She was born in Hyderabad Deccan, and graduated from Osmania University. As she secured the first position there, she was awarded a scholarship by the Government of Hyderabad Deccan to study at the University of Oxford, making her one of the few women to receive such an opportunity.

In 1934, she went to the UK with her husband, who took a year’s leave from his job to accompany her. To prepare for admission to the University of Oxford, she had to pass certain exams, for which she studied for a year. Although she wanted admission in Lady Margaret Hall, she had to settle for Saint Hugh’s College, which offered her a space.

The review goes on to note that Muhammadi Begum was part of the organizing committee for the women’s jalsa that the Quaid-e-Azam attended in 1945. Her family migrated to Pakistan in 1950.

Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray: The Controversy around the novel’s depiction of homoeroticism

This essay has nothing to do with South Asia but I am sharing it in the interest of mixing up topics and discussing things that don’t have to do with Ind-Pak.  For FlyDie specifically. 

Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray is a classic work of 19th century gothic horror. Initially published in the July 1890 issue of Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine, the novel became immediately controversial, primarily because of its “immorality”. In his “Introduction” to the annotated, uncensored edition (Belknap 2011)–based on Wilde’s original typescript– editor Nicholas Frankel quotes a contemporary review in the Daily Chronicle:

It is a tale spawned from the leprous literature of the French decadents–a poisonous book, the atmosphere of which is heavy with the mephitic odours of moral and spiritual putrefaction–a gloating study of the mental and physical corruption of a fresh, fair and golden, youth, which might be fascinating but for its effeminate frivolity, its studied insincerity, its theatrical cynicism, its tawdry mysticism, its flippant philosophizing…

Frankel argues that a large part of the reviewers’ outrage arose out of what they perceived to be the novel’s references to homosexuality. He writes:

That outraged British reviews of The Picture of Dorian Gray share the same coded language (unhealthiness, insanity, uncleanliness, and so on), while making allusion to criminal prosecution, shows very clearly that many early British readers were cognizant of the the ways in which the novel challenged conventional Victorian notions of masculine sexuality, particularly through its preoccupation with the homoerotic and emotional relations between the three main male characters (Dorian, Basil, and Lord Henry) and through its complex interest in the potentially corruptive nature of interpersonal influence.

As a response to this criticism, Wilde made substantial changes to the 1891 book-length version, substantially toning down the homoerotic content. However, during his 1895 trials for “gross indecency”, passages from the novel were often introduced into evidence, usually in the more scandalous magazine version. Thus, the controversy around Dorian Gray became inseparable from the scandal around Wilde’s sexual behavior more generally. Continue reading Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray: The Controversy around the novel’s depiction of homoeroticism

Ants Among Elephants: A Portrait of Untouchability in India

Since we have been talking about caste, I am sharing this review of Sujatha Gidla’s Ants Among Elephants: An Untouchable Family and the Making of Modern India.  

Caste has religious sanction in Hinduism while in Islam all believers are (theoretically) considered equal in the eyes of Allah.  This is an important distinction between the two religions. 

One of the frequent topics of debate among those interested in South Asia is the caste system and whether it is unique to Hinduism or features in other South Asian religions as well. Hindu society has traditionally been divided into four castes (or varnas): Brahmins (priests), Kshatriyas (rulers, administrators and warriors), Vaishyas (merchants and tradesmen), and Shudras (artisans, farmers and laboring classes). A fifth group consists of those who do not fit into this hierarchy at all and are considered “untouchable”. What separates caste from other systems of social stratification are the aspects of purity and ascribed status. Upper-castes consider lower castes to be “impure” and have rigid rules about the kind of social interaction they can have with them. For example, upper castes will not accept food from those of a lower caste, while lower castes will accept food from those above them. Caste status is also ascribed at birth and has nothing to do with an individual’s achievements. A Brahmin peasant remains a Brahmin while an “untouchable” engineer is still an “untouchable”. This system persists in India today, though the government does provide affirmative action in order to uplift members of “backward” castes.

Coming from a Pakistani background, I was not familiar with the operation of the caste system in daily life. Though Pakistan is a highly socially stratified society, this system has no religious sanction. In Islam, all believers are considered equal in the eyes of Allah. Unlike in India, where until recently, “untouchables” could not go into several temples, all social classes pray together in the same mosques. This fact is highlighted in one of the famous couplets from Allama Iqbal’s poem “Shikwa” (the complaint) which states: “Ek hi saf mein khare ho gaye Mahmood-o-Ayaz/ Na koi banda raha aur na koi banda nawaz” (Mahmood the king and slave Ayaz, in line as equals stood arrayed/ The lord was no more lord to slave: while both to the One Master prayed). At least in religious terms, one Muslim is not better than any other, no matter what his social status. Of course, this does not mean that social stratification ceases to exist. To this day, rich Pakistani families have separate utensils in their homes which are to be used by the servants. Punjabi Christians who engage in janitorial work are still known as “chuhras”, a derogatory reference to their pre-conversion caste status as “untouchables”. However, unlike the Hindu caste system, social class in Pakistan is not based on ascribed status. If someone from a low socio-economic background attains an education and a well-paying job, he or she will no longer be treated as belonging to their previous socioeconomic group. This is a major difference from India, where one’s caste remains salient, no matter one’s economic status. Continue reading Ants Among Elephants: A Portrait of Untouchability in India

On BP: A Diagnosis

First of all, I want to thank X.T.M for enforcing a “ceasefire” between myself, BB and RNJ.  I really do think it is better for the mental health of everyone concerned to not indulge in these “low-signal” exchanges which are mostly just personal acrimony.  Insulting someone’s career as “grift” for example or posting a picture of the Netanyahus at the Taj are not adding anything to the discussion and only serve to trigger the other party.

I would be open to revisiting this “ceasefire” after a certain period (a few weeks or months) provided the people concerned learn how to debate without being disagreeable.  However, for now, it is best to limit interaction.

With that preamble out of the way, I want to turn to the main topic of this post: A diagnosis of what BP is or isn’t.    I am including the (somewhat tongue-in-cheek) song “A Diagnosis” from the TV Show Crazy Ex-Girlfriend to illustrate the importance of obtaining a correct diagnosis.  Before one can prescribe a cure, one has to first understand what the problem is.  This post is my attempt to do so.  It is inherently subjective and of course there is room for respectful disagreement.

Continue reading On BP: A Diagnosis

Review: The Music Room by Namita Devidayal

In an attempt to cool the temperature, I am sharing this review of Namita Devidayal’s book The Music Room.  I appreciate that BP is not afraid to tackle controversial and fraught topics relating to India-Pakistan but we need to mix it up with less controversial (but no less important) topics. 

Namita Devidayal’s memoir The Music Room is a chronicle of her relationship with her guru Dhondutai Kulkarni (1927-2014). The book describes Devidayal’s initiation into Hindustani classical music as a reluctant ten-year-old from Bombay’s upper-middle class. Along with describing her growing appreciation for Dhondutai and the music that she imparts to her, the narrative also tells the story of two other important figures in Hindustani music: Ustad Alladiya Khan (1855-1946)–the founder of the Jaipur-Atrauli gharana–and Keserbai Kerkar (1892-1977)–one of the most famous khayal singers of the 20th century. Through telling the stories of these individuals, Devidayal elucidates several important themes such as communalism and “Hinduization” of music as well as the place of women in classical music.

Devidayal describes the process through which Hindustani music became communalized and “Hinduized”. Though Dhondutai is extremely proud of the musical legacy passed on to her by Alladiya Khan Sahib’s family, she still expresses some bigoted views about Muslims. When pressed on this by Devidayal, Dhondutai attempts to square the circle by telling her that Ustad Alladiya Khan was not a real Muslim since he was (allegedly) descended from a Brahmin singer who had been forced to convert to Islam by a Muslim king. She also notes that he always wore the caste thread usually worn by Brahmins. This story allows Dhondutai to hold the belief that Hindustani classical music is essentially Hindu despite the fact that many of the most prominent gharanas had Muslim founders. Dhondutai’s prejudices connect back to the broader process through which–during the colonial period– Hindustani music was “Hinduized” by reformers such as Pandit Bhatkhande and Pandit Paluskar. Bhatkhande wanted to create a “national music” and believed that Hindustani music had been degraded by Muslims and dancing girls and needed to be rescued from both. This process has been extensively discussed by Janaki Bakhle in her book Two Men and Music: Nationalism in the Making of an Indian Classical Tradition. Unfortunately, while most ethnomusicologists agree that Hindustani music is a syncretic tradition, many (on both sides of the India-Pakistan border) persist in claiming it for one or the other religion. Continue reading Review: The Music Room by Namita Devidayal

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