Harmonising the traditional with modernity

An interview with Zeenat Mahal:

By Dilshan Boange

An imprisonment, an entrapment, or an enchantment, that doesn’t bare its face at first, but kindles the heart to glimpse anew, the person within the persona outwardly seen at the outset? How can the concept of traditional arranged marriages be viewed and approached in today’s context? The olden Asian concept and practice of ‘arranged marriages’ are stringently reassessed in today’s digitally modern world for their worth and congruity, and generally perceived as a hindrance to love and romance, being of course what is more ‘idealised’ in the face of alluring and pervasive westernisation through Asian cultures. Or could at times traditional approaches to marriage reveal opportunities that open depths of love in ways that were not thought likely to?

Faiqa Mansab is a Pakistani born writer in Britain who brings these conflicting views of how and what marriage ought to be and in fact allowed to happen through her work as a writer of romance fiction. Writing under the penname –Zeenat Mahal she has authored two novels –Haveli and The Contact that bring into discussion within the stream of love and romance, questions of what relationships mean to the people involved in them from both societal and personal vistas. She is currently reading for her degree of Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in Creative Writing at the Kingston University in the UK. The following is my interview of Zeenat on her work and the influences that shaped her as writer and what she sees ahead in her path.

Mughal culture

Question: Before discussing your work as a novelist I’d like to ask about your roots in Lahore. It’s a city reputed for its richness of Mughal culture and affluence. My own very first ‘glimpse’ at Lahore, I recall, came from Rudyard Kipling’s Kim when I was an early teen. How has Lahore impacted your pulse as a writer? What were the main ‘Lahori’ influences and factors for you to develop your artistic outlooks?

Answer: Kim’s Lahore is still very much alive. Right opposite Kim’s gun is the Lahore Museum, curated by Rudyard Kipling’s father. It’s a rich landscape and it informs my writing and my thinking. From the shrines of Sufi saints, to the food-streets, the red-light district in old city, the universities, bazaars, there’s so much to tell.

One of the most intriguing elements of Lahore is the architecture. Driving down the straight stretch of the Mall Road one can see structural designs ranging from Mughal, to Colonial, to Contemporary, on one road. It’s just amazing. I so enjoy writing about Lahore. There’s a story waiting to be told at every step.

Q: Your first novel is titled Haveli. I checked the meaning of this word online since being a Sri Lankan it’s not a word I’m familiar with. ‘Haveli’ to my understanding refers to a palatial residence or a certain type of religious place of Hindu worship? It has its roots in Mughal and Punjabi culture I believe. Can you please give some insight as to how the title reflects the story? Is there a metaphor or symbolism intended?

Protagonist

A: All correct except the bit about it being a place of worship. It isn’t. I grew up in a haveli. It was rather huge and I have great memories of that place. The grandmother in the novella is based on mine, so it seemed appropriate as a title at the time because I associate the haveli with my grandmother. It was her home. And much as I appreciate symbolism, imagery and other tools of writing, I didn’t choose the title thinking about any of those. It just suits the story, which is about a Nawab family. Houses are important, I feel. There’s so much attached with them. Memories, history, a sense of belonging and identity and all of these are important in the story of Haveli.

Q: What was the basis for you to develop the protagonist Chandni, or ‘C’ as you have dubbed her in the story? She is an orphan being brought up by her grandmother. Does she reflect a true to life character you know of?

A: Honestly, Dilshan, when I started writing the story I had a very different girl in mind, the serious minded, intellectual type.

She had no problems being called Chandni and I had every intention of writing the novella in the third person. But when I started typing, this really bratty voice just enchanted me and I couldn’t help but follow. She was so witty and self-deprecating, sarcastic, fearless. I liked her instantly, even though she made fun of the name I’d chosen for her.

And Chandni isn’t based on anyone in particular, unless you take into account the influence of hundreds of heroines I know from the books I’ve read and loved. One’s unconscious is always at play. She’s been likened to Scarlett O’ Hara and to Elizabeth Bennett but flattered as I am, for me, she’s her own person.

Q: Haveli is essentially a romance novel if I’m not mistaken. What can you say about the relationship that develops between the protagonist and Taimur? How much of it can you personally relate to in the context of Pakistani culture?

A: The relationship between Taimur and Chandni is fiery and antagonistic initially. Gradually she begins to see how well he understands her, and that in no way endears him to her. The fireworks don’t lessen. They’re equals and they know it. The truth is that romances cannot be, and are not meant to be, realistic. Readers want swash-buckling heroes and feisty heroines, but flawed and redeemable. They might not be representative of what we see around us, but they’re fun to read.

As for Pakistani culture, I want to be able to fairly reflect our social and cultural mores and at the same time highlight the problems, the issues which shouldn’t be issues in this day and age.

Since I’m writing romances these themes are covertly interwoven into the narrative and do not take precedence over the story which is, like I said, primarily romance. I try to poke fun at hypocrisies, or I use satire and I don’t write weak willed women. I respect and tend to uphold cultural expectations, as long as they’re not oppressive.

Emotional turbulence

Q: An online review by one Rubina Ramesh of Haveli speaks of how the return of C’s father causes some considerable emotional turbulence as conflicting emotions arise in the protagonist. How much of this estranged father and daughter relationship do you explore in the novel? How does it work in the overall scheme of a romance novel?

A: It was just how the story developed. I believe I’ve articulated the issue as well as I could’ve within the parameters of the romance genre.

Romance novels are mainly about the hero and heroine—it’s their story and everything else is secondary. That doesn’t mean that sub-plots aren’t important or can be inadequately portrayed. Perhaps, C.’s obsession with Kunwar is a reflection of the desire to fill the void that the absence of the father generates.

Q: I’d like to ask you about your novel The Contract. A young divorcee named Shahira being a single mother is compelled through circumstance to consider the proposition by wealthy Hussain to act as his wife. How did this storyline come about? What served as the inspiration?

A: My favourite trope for romance is the marriage of convenience. There are so many possibilities there and for The Contract I chose a divorcee with a child because it’s something that is still not as widely accepted as it should be back home. Divorced women aren’t so readily accepted as wives, even if the man himself is a divorcee or a widower.

I want to tell stories that are intriguing, entertaining and fun to read but also have that something extra, something that touches the reader, makes them think.

Socio-cultural basis

Q: How do you view the bonds between partners ‘arranged’ for marriage, which has an immense socio-cultural basis particularly in South Asian countries. Do you attempt to symbolically nuance a modern outlook at arranged marriages through the scenario in The Contract?

A: I have nothing against arranged marriages. I think they’ve worked for decades in our part of the world, so there must be something there.

However, I also feel very strongly about women’s rights. Forced marriages, child marriages, these are the real evils, not arranged marriages perse.

I think when people forget that they’re two individuals in a relationship as equal partners, that is, problematic. As long as partners respect each other’s right to individuality, have the freedom to choose for themselves, things will work out I think. I do believe that a liberal minded approach is necessary to make any relationship work. When men begin to lord it over the wife, that’s oppression, that’s curtailing free will and that’s unacceptable.

Q: You’re currently following a Masters in Fine Arts in Creative Writing. Can you tell us a bit about that course? How do you feel it developing the writer in you?

A: I think doing the MFA was one of the best decisions of my life. It’s a great program. Kingston University has a sterling faculty, with the likes of Hanif Kureishi, Paul Bailey, Elif Shafak, to name a few.

It’s a two year course, and I’m more than half way through.

I’ll be submitting a dissertation at the end, which will be part of my novel. I’ve learnt a great deal since I came here, not just about the craft and theory of writing but also of myself as a writer. It’s been a wonderful journey.

Q: What is in store ahead on your path as a novelist? Will you consider diversifying into other genres of fiction in the future?

A: Certainly. I’ve been working on what is called a ‘literary novel’ although many writers and critics are wary of the term. I’d like nothing better than to finish my work in progress and have it traditionally published by next year, if Allah wills. I also hope to continue writing romance novels. My next novella by Indireads is coming out in March this year.