For him Adha Gaon ” is the story of time passing through Gangauli. This is the story of the dreams and courage trapped in these changing. Adha Gaon. By Rahi Masoom Raza Tranlated to ‘A Village Divided ‘ by Gillian Wright. For Raza, Adha Gaon ”is the story of time passing through Gangauli. Originally published in Urdu as ‘Aadha Gaon’, A Village Divided is written by Dr Rahi Masoom Reza (better known as a script-writer, who also.

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You don’t need to ask permission to gwon from posts here, as long as you stay within the normal Fair Use conventions and you link back to the original post. It is a mistake even to try to do this because the author doesn’t intend to let his readers get involved with the gaaon individual destinies. The novel opens in the autobiographical first person and then switches interestingly to a third person narrative which flits impartially from one character to the next in a cast so large that it’s impossible to keep track of everyone.

Seeped in the folk traditions of India-ably critiquing its negatives while at the same time highlighting the simplicity of even the supposed crooks.

The original is a masterpiece, a tour de force, layered, entertaining and insightful. Shall look out for it agon bookstores! At the time this story happened, it was a mixed village but its routines were dominated by the Shia Saiyids who were its zamindars.

July 2, Tweaking and additional graphics: Thank you for this! For him Adha Gaon ” I will have to look for it.

Adha Gaon – Indian Novels Collective

He plans to render a world, first in equilibrium, then in crisis. Asha just reached this post while searching for “aadha gaon” on the web. Early in the novel Reza tells us that his ancestral home was, strictly speaking, Thekma Bijauli, his paternal grandfather’s village in Azamgarh.


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And I narrated the whole tale. This dream of the Hakim Sahib didn’t last long, however, as a train would have needed acres gaoj land for its stable.

But he had never been there so he couldn’t think of it as home because a place becomes home through the passing of time, a developing of affection and familiarity. Adha Gaon doesn’t wallow in the troubles of Muslims left marooned by the Partition.

The author daha one of these Saiyids and in this novel he takes us home. It is a story miraculously well told and wonderfully translated in which the vividness of a participant’s memories is disciplined by the impersonal authority of the chronicler.

Only it didn’t follow. Thank you Annie for making this book popular.

It is a classic most definitely. So to him home was Gangauli. The Saiyids squabbled and played and extravagantly mourned the martyrdom of Hussain during Moharram. I was dissappointed with Gillian Wright’s translation. Great novels – and this is a great addha – don’t traffic in predictable misery.

I remember one of my earliest meetings with him. It even reached the stage where, when he dreamed of what his son would do when he’d finished his studies, he decided adh first Saddan would become a thanedar because by the grace of God, there was a great deal of extra income in running a police stationand then, when Saddan’s income had grown sufficiently large, he would buy a train.

Nationalism, an ideology that allowed its adherents to feel proprietorial or hostile about places they had never seen and towards people they had never met, was from the point of view of Gangauli’s natives, insane. First in Hindi acha then the English translation.


Book review: Rahi Masoom Reza’s ‘The Feuding Families of Village Gangauli’

Capturing a difficult idiom. In the Gangauli of his childhood, zamindari seemed part of the natural order and the world ended at Ghazipur, a mofussil town nearby. That sounds like an awesome book.

Rahi Saheb had written that story. But unfortunately he wasn’t alive till then for me to say thank you and to tell him as to how he inspires till date to bring out these little tales tucked in the recesses of my brain. The greatness of this book are its characters.

Excerpt But the Hakim Sahib climbed once into a train, and the railway climbed into his brain. Do You Like This Story? The absence of mawkishness has something to do with the task Reza has set for himself. For the writers whose work features on this blogzine, leave comments.

If you want to use a full post, please ask permission from the author concerned. Individual members’ pages may or may not be visible to you depending on the privacy settings they have chosen. However, I feel that the English translation stunts its stature. Keep in touch with Caferati members in your city. Join up for read-meets in these cities: So, like any 11 years old I had a point to prove.

And I will give no one the right to say to me: It is the story of the ruins where houses stood and of the houses built on those ruins. To contact Caferati’s editors, please write to editors at caferati dot com.