Long ago, I became enamoured of Khalid Hasan’s humorous diction when I borrowed a book by him namely, “The Fourth Estate” from a good friend of mine who was gracious enough never to ask for its return.The book still adorns my shelf along with nearly half a dozen more books by the same author. Of the two writers whose prose has inspired me most are Khushwant Singh from India and Khalid Hasan from our native land. I was much amused from a comment made by the great Khushwant Singh from India who said: “Khalid Hasan, I was told, was the Khushwant Singh of Pakistan, to which I say: I will be proud to be known as the Khalid Hasan of India.” There can’t be a greater tribute to the genius of Khalid Hasan. He is the Art Buckwald of Pakistan who like him popularized the humorous essay in our part of the land.
Let me be clear that Khalid Hasan’s major contribution to literature is as an eminent translator of some gems of Urdu literature and introducing it to the English speaking world. But since my purpose in this piece is only to concentrate on his humour, therefore I have to overlook him as a translator. In my view his humour is no less important than his translations, an aspect always enjoyed by his readers who sought after him for the sheer pleasure of his humorous diction. He was essentially a columnist with considerable distinction, and only took to translations as a pastime in later life.
As a humorist, he emerges in his numerous columns written mostly about politics and people of Pakistan and which he consistently wrote for various newspapers and magazines all through his life. Later these columns were compiled and published in the form of books significant of which include ‘Scorecard’, ‘Give us Back our Onions’, ‘The Empire Strikes back’, ‘Private View’, ‘The Fourth State’, ‘Return of the Onions’, ‘Rear-view Mirror’, and ‘The Question Time’ etc. These columns are filled with a mix of wit, humour, satire, and candid realism and are written in a seamless flow of English language.
‘Funny’ is a small word to describe the effect of his columns; but perhaps ‘hilarious’ would be more appropriateto describe the effect it caused on the readers. His wit often took its cue from some innocent comment of a politician or some minor episode, which became a hostage of his fertile imaginationand hesported with it for a while as does a cat with a helpless mouse.Soon after it would appear to the delight of the reader how vastly funny the comment or the situation was.He did all that so politely and without rancor that he would never let his object feel bruised or hurt. This element of surprise and delight from unforeseen situations was his method of employing his humour, which few writers were ever able to do with his dexterity and skill.
He had the remarkable gift of recounting anecdotes, and could easily make his readers giggle. He had an acute observation to note the quirks of speech, the manner and style of the demeanor and dress of the person he focused on, and by way of tongue in cheek he would comment on these traits so playfully that his object would hardly feel the pinch of his remarks.
However he was against all kinds of humbug which his piercing wit would lay bare like a skillful surgeon. He loved to puncture the puffed up egos for which he was unsparing.Bureaucrats were the class of people who invariably became his targets, because they posedthemselves as all too wise and powerful to easily beguile the politicians. Mr. Adil Najam somewhere writes that Khalid Hasan was his good acquaintance but he was ‘someone he held in too much awe to call a ‘friend’.
Khalid Hasan was a man of many parts. A journalist, a scholar, a linguist a writer and a former civil servant all rolled into one
His astonishing command over the English language and his masterful use of its colloquial side always came in handy to him like his handmaid and which he employed to his full advantage in exposing hypocrisy, and double standards of the politicians.That is why the gift of his acute observation and the knack of giving it a proper expression also made him a successful translator. His translations of the stories of Saadat Hasan Manto and the lyrics of Faiz Ahmad Faiz gained him a world-wide fame.
Khalid Hasan was a man of many parts. A journalist, a scholar, a linguist a writer and a former civil servant all rolled into one. He began his long career in journalism working with The Pakistan Times, Lahore as senior reporter and columnist in 1967. Apprehending his sharp talents as a writer, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto appointed him his first press secretary. Prior to that he had spent some years in the country’s Foreign Service, with postings in Paris, Ottawa and London. He resigned in protest when the Bhutto government was overthrown by Gen. Zia-ul-Haq and started working in London with the Third World Media Foundation before leaving to join OPEC in Vienna, Austria, where he stayed for 10 years. Thereafter he kept shuttling between Pakistan and Washington D.C on his journalistic assignments. In 2000 he joined Daily Times and The Friday Times newspapers and also continued to work as their correspondent and columnist inWashington DC. He died on 5 February 2009 at the age of 74 in the United States. Khalid Hasan was a prolific writer and translator and had published over 40 books, in Pakistan and abroad.
To savour the joy of his diction, I produce below some passages from his columns for those of the readers who have never read him before. But it must be kept in view that by producing these bits out of their context is tantamount to taking away much of their flavor.
About Mr.Z.A. Suleri he writes: “When Mr. Suleri agreed to be inducted into the Majlis e Shura, I felt that the old boywas losing his taste for the rough and tumble of newspapering….It is a pity ,of course, that he has almost always chosen to side with the government of the day. Off and on, he has tripped, but he has always bounced back.”
About Nawab Of Kalabagh, he writes: “The Nawab of Kalabagh has been dead for many years, but his ghost still stalks the corridors of power in the Punjab. His baleful legacy has not been laid to rest…Why should we ask ourselves why this is so. Daspite a number of admirable personal qualities, the Nawab was a man from bygone ages. He may have been to the British university but this brush with the west was not allowed to touch his feudal soul.”
About Noor Jahan he wrote: “What a perfectly fascinating life she has led, always on her own terms. Men have come and gone, sometimes leaving not even a trace behind, but Madam has stayed the way she always was–a woman not so hard to please as difficult to keep. But then that is the stuff goddesses are made of.”
About the introduction of ‘Awami’ outfit, he wrote: “Thanks to the so-called ‘awami outfit that now camouflages the ample girths of most members of the Pakistani bourgeoisie, the waistline exists no longer. I mean if you are thus clad you can’t tell if you have or haven’t a pot belly. What a breakthrough considering that the rest of mankind lost the battle of the bulge long ago.”
And lastly in a sedate moment, recalling the stories of his old friend A. Hameed, he wrote, ” All his stories are suffused in the same pink haze of delicate teenage love that never quite goes beyond the touching of hands in a hurry when no one is looking on the verandah in the fading light of a gold and orange spring.”
I could endlessly quote him, but for the limited space allowed to me.
The writer is a former member of the Provincial Civil Service, and an author of Moments in Silence