Have you ever seen a librarian not allowing someone to issue a book? Well, I saw it for the first time when I was in class 12th. It still brings back instant guffaws that I had when the librarian did not let my best friend issue a book. The book was "Women and Men in my life" by Khushwant Singh. My friend, well, did not stop there and went ahead to ask the librarian "Why can't I issue the book?". The librarian, ofcourse at that time avoided the question by saying "No, you can't issue the book". I still wonder what must be there in the book?!
This instance, I remembered today when I read that the great writer Khushwant Singh has passed away for his heavenly abode.
Well, Khushwant Singh is well known for his naughty and subtle humour. Even his weekly column in Hindustan Times "In malice towards one and all" checked the reality as well as had sparks of humour. I recount one such article where he was so angry with Sant Chatwal for having not invited him to his son's wedding. He refered to Chatwal's son as someone who looked like a "mouse". (Well, I felt Vikram Chatwal did actually look like a mouse! I could relate. "Chuckles!" ). This man, Khushwant Singh, can bring hysterical laughter by depicting things so apt! He was so upright and bold in whatever he felt like.
Last year, when I read "Train to Pakistan", I could well feel the plight of people struck in the border area of the country. It unfolds an imagination in the eyes of the reader of how tragic was the partition. This is all described in a fiction. The lovers getting separated, the Hindu Muslim sudden divide in a village living in harmony otherwise, the feeling of alienation in your own land, all highlights the lucidity of his writings. The description of eagles being unable to eat more corpses was hard to gulp and left one teary eyed.
The first time I read his writings was in class 10th in my English textbook. The story "The portrait of a lady" was written in such a manner, it brought tears to the eyes of many young readers like me. I vividly remember that part when the sparrows refuse to eat food because they can feel that the grandmother is no more. Its been so beautifully written.
Now when he is no more, one can recall so many of his writings that one realises that one has built a long association with the writer. This association would continue to be there, for there are still many of his novels and stories to be read. RIP Khushwant Singh.
