Tousif Raza
Introduction
In the expansive landscape of Urdu fiction, certain voices rise above mere storytelling — they echo the silent suffering, articulate the unheard grief, and embody the conscience of society. Rehana Shajar is one such compelling voice. Her stories are not just tales; they are testaments. They offer reflections, criticisms, and most importantly, empathy. In her short story “Bhookh” (Hunger), she weaves a narrative so delicate, yet so disturbing, that it leaves an indelible imprint on the heart and mind of the reader. This story, deceptively simple in structure, is an exploration of layered realities — poverty, sacrifice, hunger (both physical and emotional), and the silent moral awakening of a human soul. It is a story that does not scream, yet pierces through the noise of indifference.
Synopsis: A Glimpse into Stark Reality
The story begins on a scorching summer afternoon. The narrator, a woman, steps into an ice cream shop to soothe her thirst with a kulfi. While indulging in this simple pleasure, her gaze lands on a young balloon-seller standing outside in the blistering heat, his eyes fixated not on her, but on the kulfi she is enjoying. Moved by an impulse, she offers the child a kulfi — an act of kindness, perhaps of redemption. But the child politely declines. He doesn’t ask for ice cream. Instead, he gently pleads for a bottle of milk. His reason is devastatingly simple: his mother is dead, his father is imprisoned, and at home, a little sister cradles a newborn brother who is hungry and crying for milk. The child’s sense of responsibility, his maturity in the face of suffering, and his prioritization of others’ needs over his own are what jolt the narrator — and the reader — into a profound moral reckoning.
Narrative Technique: The Power of the First Person
Rehana Shajar employs the first-person narrative with remarkable grace. This choice draws the reader directly into the narrator’s internal world. The narrative is fluid, honest, and emotionally resonant. Unlike conventional plot-driven stories, Bhookh progresses through impressions and observations, making it more of an experiential journey than a linear tale. The language is understated yet evocative. Dialogues are sparse, and much is conveyed through gestures, such as the boy licking his lips while resisting temptation, reflecting an emotional restraint that is far more telling than words. This minimalism in style enhances the emotional gravity of the story.
Character Study: An Unlikely Hero
The strength of Bhook lies in its characters — real, raw, and unforgettable. The central characters include the narrator (a reflective urban woman), a balloon-seller boy, and indirectly, his young sister and infant brother. The narrator undergoes a quiet transformation. Initially, she is absorbed in her desire, cooling off with a kulfi, oblivious to the world outside. But by the end, she emerges more aware, more human. The balloon-seller child is the heart of the story. His hunger is not just for food, but for dignity, family, and survival. He is a child thrust into adulthood, a symbol of selfless love, and a silent critique of societal apathy.
Thematic Richness: Hunger as a Metaphor
Though titled Bhookh, the story transcends the literal meaning of hunger. It explores hunger in its multifaceted forms — the hunger for food, affection, dignity, and human connection. The kulfi becomes a metaphor for fleeting pleasures and personal indulgence, while the milk symbolizes essential compassion and sustenance. This story is also a stark portrayal of class disparity. On one side, a woman satisfies her craving without a second thought; on the other, a child battles the scorching sun not for himself, but for the survival of his siblings. It’s this contrast — so poignant, so painful — that speaks volumes about the invisible lines that divide our society. Furthermore, Bhookh touches upon the fragmentation of families, especially after the loss of a mother. It subtly but powerfully comments on how children are forced to grow up too soon when poverty becomes their destiny. The child’s maturity and resolve are not just inspiring, but heartbreaking.
A Feminine Gaze: Strength in Sensitivity
The fact that the story is narrated by a woman and penned by a female author adds a significant dimension. The feminine gaze brings depth, compassion, and heightened emotional awareness. The woman sees not just a poor child, but feels his pain, his silence, his courage. Rehana Shajar’s lens is empathetic without being sentimental, critical without being preachy.
Critical Appreciation: In the Tradition of Realism
Shajar’s story aligns with the grand tradition of social realism in Urdu literature, reminiscent of legends like Premchand, Manto, Bedi, and Ismat Chughtai. However, her voice is distinct — quieter, more introspective, yet equally impactful. She doesn’t dramatize suffering but presents it with a raw honesty that demands reflection. The story is a mirror, held up not just to society, but to the reader’s conscience. It challenges us: Have we become so consumed by our luxuries that we no longer see the suffering next to us? Have we forgotten the essence of being human?
Conclusion: A Story that Lingers
Bhookh is not just a story — it is a wake-up call. It is a gentle reminder that true humanity lies in empathy, and sometimes, in the smallest gestures. Rehana Shajar has crafted a narrative that doesn’t just touch the heart but stirs the soul. Having read many of her stories, I find that Rehana Shajar consistently raises her voice against the ills of society, offering not just criticism but also hope, wisdom, and lessons for future storytellers. Bhookh is one such literary gem — a cry for kindness in a world growing increasingly cold.
(The author is an English literature student. Hailing from Tangmarg, he can be reached at tousifeqbal555@gmail.com)