Udaas Naslein – اداس نسلیں

Before I dive into the more intricate parts of Abdullah Hussain’s “Udaas Naslein,” it’s important to lay a framework for how the novel is written. ‘Udaas Naslein’ spans 3 important time periods in subcontinent history: first, the established British Raj, second, the Partition of the subcontinent and third, Independence of two nations. The reader is taken through prolific events like the 1857 ‘war of independence/mutiny,’ incident of Jallianwala Bagh, formation of the Muslim League and more. I truly felt as if the incidents came alive for me; I’ve visited Jallianwala Bagh and Hussain’s description of the place brought back harrowing terror that I’d shelved away in my mind. Now that I’ve set the scene, let’s dive into the novel.

Abdullah Hussain is no stranger to painting vivid images with crisp words. In fact, ‘Udaas Naslein’ stood out in its intense personification of the most seemingly trivial objects. For example, the novel begins with Hussain talking at length about tiny roads and where they lead. He personifies these spidery pathways so as to give them an impish, mischievous quality; the roads rather reminded me of buzzing fairies, hiding in the bushes to tease and waylay weary travelers. Hussain continues to do this throughout his novel. He breathes life into the most ordinary things, particularly a Turkish hat and the column of a young girl’s neck.

Safe to say, I readily fell into the world Hussain creates in ‘Udaas Naslein.’ However, I was not a fan of his characters and perhaps that says a lot about his skill in creating them. I met Naim, son of Niaz Baig (second gen tiller/cultivator in Roshanpur) and immediately developed a strong dislike. Naim came off as seemingly harmless, shy and even meek. However, later I found out that he was prone to fits of random rage and that, coupled with an utter lack of backbone, turned me off of him completely. Not only that, but I quickly realized he had a menacing ability: he often stood by and watched acts of violence/brutality take place. He would do nothing about it, whether it was the old man on the train who got dragged off by white soldiers, or the girl who almost got raped by Naim’s friend in the fields. Naim remained a passive bystander through it all.

Hussain’s male characters all rubbed me the wrong way. Either they came off as meek and hypocritical (Naim and Ayaz, his uncle) or they were brash, aggressive and written right out into an exaggerated trope of masculinity (Roshan Agha the First and Second and Niaz Baig). The women were still better: Azra in particular, interested me, with her solid, rebellious confidence, balance between traditions and modernity and staunch faith in her own beliefs. The women seemed entirely too good for the men they were made to accompany on paper.

It says a lot about Hussain that his characters were able to evoke such a strong reaction in me. However, I did find that most of the characters had underdeveloped or unfinished arcs and the main characters lacked adequate motivation for their actions. For example, Naim’s trajectory is a confusing one. He moved from the city to the village, embedded himself into village life and then suddenly decided to join the army. His only weak motivation? Prove to Azra’s aunt that he could become somebody despite his sordid name. This seemed weak because he’d met Azra only twice and moved alarmingly fast on the romance front at that. Their story seemed to me a Bollywood rendition of how true love comes about and was not a realistic arc.

So, ‘Udaas Naslein,’ the good, the bad and the ugly. Hussain’s use of imagery was stunning, so much so that I plodded on reading the Urdu text despite my weak linguistic skills, just because I wanted to live in the world he created. Even the way he described a simple dish of rice and ghee made me want to dive into the book and taste it. He also painted intricate characters that were able to evoke mixed but strong reactions in me, something I take as a strong positive, but some of their arcs were left unfinished and trailing. Overall, I saw why this novel has become one of the cornerstones of Urdu literature: it was an important lesson in history, heritage, generational gaps, family ties, the harsh reality of life and learning from past mistakes.