What do you think?
Rate this book
The Paradise of Food
A landmark Urdu classic translated for the first time.
Khalid Jawed is one of the most original and extraordinary writers in Urdu today. The Paradise of Food is an Urdu classic known for its radical, experimental form and savage and dark honesty.
It tells the story of a middle-class Muslim joint family over a span of fifty years. As India – and Islamic culture – hardens, the narrator, whose life we follow from boyhood to old age, struggles to find a place for himself, at odds in his home and in the world outside.
But to describe the novel in its plot is to do its originality no justice. In this profoundly daring work – tense, mysterious, even unfathomable on occasion – Jawed builds an atmosphere of gloom and grotesqueness to draw out his themes. And in doing so he penetrates deep into the dark heart of middle-class Muslims today.
Superbly translated, The Paradise of Food is a novel like no other.
Khalid Jawed is one of the most original and extraordinary writers in Urdu today. The Paradise of Food is an Urdu classic known for its radical, experimental form and savage and dark honesty.
It tells the story of a middle-class Muslim joint family over a span of fifty years. As India – and Islamic culture – hardens, the narrator, whose life we follow from boyhood to old age, struggles to find a place for himself, at odds in his home and in the world outside.
But to describe the novel in its plot is to do its originality no justice. In this profoundly daring work – tense, mysterious, even unfathomable on occasion – Jawed builds an atmosphere of gloom and grotesqueness to draw out his themes. And in doing so he penetrates deep into the dark heart of middle-class Muslims today.
Superbly translated, The Paradise of Food is a novel like no other.
402 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2014
15 people are currently reading
483 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews
January 16, 2023
The subtitle of this novel could be Confessions of a Bulimic Intellectual. There are glorious wild descriptions of food on nearly every page. An obsession with food's smells and colors and sounds and taste all like fireworks in their vividness and their cadence. Its sentences are a nearly synesthetic paean to food and its preparation. But always along with these vivid food-sense impressions comes a coupling of descriptions of grotesque foul digestion and excrement and decay. There is no nourishment in this book that comes without the cost of corresponding filth. There is no joy without illness. There is no sex without blood. No love without death.
Reading this novel is like being force-fed a feast of words all the while knowing you'll be sick in the end. I can honestly say I fell in love with each exquisite sentence after another of this feast. I could quote whole sentences and paragraphs and chapters that left me weak-kneed with their intensity and beauty. But in the end there was no joy in this read. No sense that the author was sharing something he cared about with me, his reader. Just this, in the end: an emptiness.
This is a purgative of a book.
Reading this novel is like being force-fed a feast of words all the while knowing you'll be sick in the end. I can honestly say I fell in love with each exquisite sentence after another of this feast. I could quote whole sentences and paragraphs and chapters that left me weak-kneed with their intensity and beauty. But in the end there was no joy in this read. No sense that the author was sharing something he cared about with me, his reader. Just this, in the end: an emptiness.
This is a purgative of a book.
January 16, 2023
JCB prize winning Urdu novel, The Paradise of Food (Ne’mat Khana), written by Khalid Jawed and translated (apparently reluctantly) by Baran Farooqi, is a hallucinatory and layered piece of existentialist writing which is extraordinarily innovative in form and deeply erudite, drawing from sources such as Kafka, Camus, and Borges. The novel traces the arc of the life of Guddu Mian (the ghar ka naam or pet name of Hafeezullah Babar), from his life as a boy in a crumbling joint family manse in a small village to his years as a college and law student to his adulthood as an unsuccessful lawyer who is supported financially by his more successful classmate ( and eventual brother in law) to his last years as an unhappily married husband and father in a nuclear family living in a sterile apartment in a small city. All of the major dramatic events which transpire in the novel take place in the kitchens of these homes, the crumbling and unhygienic bawarchi khana of his childhood where his families women gather to prepare meals, gossip, and fight and the spotlessly clean kitchen of the apartment where his cold and antagonistic wife prepares tasteless meals. Guddu Mian is endowed with a “sixth sense” by which he senses catastrophic events based upon certain foods being prepared on inauspicious days or times. These events are both personal ( deaths and murders of family members) as well as political ( the assasinations of Indira and Rajeev Gandhi, the demolition of the Babri Masjid mosque by Hindu nationalists (including India’s current PM, Modi), and the Uttarakashi earthquake). Yet Guddu Mian is unable, or in some cases unwilling, to change the course of these events. Jawed’s use of Urdu breaks through its conventional aesthetics and courtliness to encompass raw and at times revolting descriptions of rotting foods, bodily fluids, and excreta. For this he deserves much credit. The book is also lightly political, critiquing religious fundamentalism, authoritarianism, and subtly espousing socialist values ( the shared resources and interconnectedness of the joint family system as opposed to the consumerism and selfishness of the modern nuclear family). Guddu Mian is sketched as a complex character who is pessimistic and cynical for the most part but in whom there still is a vein of idealism which was prevalent in the India of the sixties and seventies prior to the liberalization of its economy away from its socialist roots. He is also both the stories antihero but also it’s villain at times. His strange passivity is shattered at moments by acts of violence for which he seeks condemnation and also absolution, going as far as to offering to accept the fault for another murder so he can hang in the would-be murderers stead. In this there are echoes of Camus and Sartre.
Jawed’s writing about food - when not describing its decay and decomposition- is also very evocative. I found myself craving my mother’s eggplant in fenugreek seeds or her khadi pakoras! For all of the above Jawed deserves much credit.
Where I struggled with this book were in its misogynistic portrayals of the women in Guddu Mina’s life. These women are shown as either victims of male oppression who suffer in silence and require rescuing, antagonistic family members whom he punishes, or else idealized courtesans. The ultimate villain of the story is is wife whom he contemplates murdering on many occasions. Equally problematic for me was the repeated reference to women’s appearances - their fatness or skinniness , their skin tones where fair skinned women were attractive and dark skinned ones are not. These aspects of the book placed a barrier to my embracing its creativeness fully. It is possible that this misogyny was intentional and intended ironically however I believe it to be reflective of implicit bias.
Perhaps the greatest impediment to my full appreciation of this book, however, was the excessiveness of its language which contains so many flourishes and digressions as to allow the plot to become lost in its pyrotechnics. Urdu literature can be quite flowery and baroque but it doesn’t need to be. Consider the writing of Qurratulain Haider or Sadaat Hassan Manto for example, or the spare but searing verses of Faiz Ahmed Faiz. Unfortunately Jawed dilutes his linguistic innovation with a tendency to say more than is needed at times and at others waxing so philosophical and abstract that this reader began to lose interest and was tempted to lead a few pages ahead. This may indeed by a reflection of my impatience or lack of subtlety, yet even so I believe that the book would have benefited from a stricter editor ( or perhaps a more engaged translator?).
Having read the other books on the JCB shortlist I understand the judges desire to reward this books innovativeness of form and language. However in my opinion there were better contenders from both the shortlist and the long list ( the Urdu novel Rohzin, for example, which may not have been as linguistically innovative but which addressed traditionally taboo subjects such as women’s sexual desires and premarital sex in a very forthright fashion.
Three stars.
Jawed’s writing about food - when not describing its decay and decomposition- is also very evocative. I found myself craving my mother’s eggplant in fenugreek seeds or her khadi pakoras! For all of the above Jawed deserves much credit.
Where I struggled with this book were in its misogynistic portrayals of the women in Guddu Mina’s life. These women are shown as either victims of male oppression who suffer in silence and require rescuing, antagonistic family members whom he punishes, or else idealized courtesans. The ultimate villain of the story is is wife whom he contemplates murdering on many occasions. Equally problematic for me was the repeated reference to women’s appearances - their fatness or skinniness , their skin tones where fair skinned women were attractive and dark skinned ones are not. These aspects of the book placed a barrier to my embracing its creativeness fully. It is possible that this misogyny was intentional and intended ironically however I believe it to be reflective of implicit bias.
Perhaps the greatest impediment to my full appreciation of this book, however, was the excessiveness of its language which contains so many flourishes and digressions as to allow the plot to become lost in its pyrotechnics. Urdu literature can be quite flowery and baroque but it doesn’t need to be. Consider the writing of Qurratulain Haider or Sadaat Hassan Manto for example, or the spare but searing verses of Faiz Ahmed Faiz. Unfortunately Jawed dilutes his linguistic innovation with a tendency to say more than is needed at times and at others waxing so philosophical and abstract that this reader began to lose interest and was tempted to lead a few pages ahead. This may indeed by a reflection of my impatience or lack of subtlety, yet even so I believe that the book would have benefited from a stricter editor ( or perhaps a more engaged translator?).
Having read the other books on the JCB shortlist I understand the judges desire to reward this books innovativeness of form and language. However in my opinion there were better contenders from both the shortlist and the long list ( the Urdu novel Rohzin, for example, which may not have been as linguistically innovative but which addressed traditionally taboo subjects such as women’s sexual desires and premarital sex in a very forthright fashion.
Three stars.
October 20, 2018
ایک گہری اداسی ہے جو اس ناول کے صفحوں سے نکل کر میرے وجود کی گہرائیوں میں داخل ہورہی ہے۔ اپنے ہونے کی اداسی،اپنی ،اس کائنات کی ناتکمیلیت کی اداسی۔ اپنے ہر احساس کی لایعنیت کی اداسی،کتابیں پڑھنے کی اداسی، کچھ تخلیق کرنے کی اداسی۔
اپنے بزرگوں کی زندگی کی رائیگانی کی اداسی، اپنے خوابوں کے ٹوٹنے کی اداسی، ، تاریک راہوں میں مرنے والوں کی اداسی، اقدار کے ختم ہونے کی اداسی، اور تاریخ کے جبر کی اداسی۔
ایک بہت ہی اعلی پائے کا ناول، مارکیز، کنڈیرا اور انتظار حسین کے انداز کا تخلیقی امتزاج۔۔
اپنے بزرگوں کی زندگی کی رائیگانی کی اداسی، اپنے خوابوں کے ٹوٹنے کی اداسی، ، تاریک راہوں میں مرنے والوں کی اداسی، اقدار کے ختم ہونے کی اداسی، اور تاریخ کے جبر کی اداسی۔
ایک بہت ہی اعلی پائے کا ناول، مارکیز، کنڈیرا اور انتظار حسین کے انداز کا تخلیقی امتزاج۔۔
February 1, 2023
This was such an exhausting read.
The Paradise of House is narrated from the point of view of Hafeezuddin Babar, aka Guddu Miyan, an orphan who grows up in a large joint family. From when he was a child to the present, when he’s an old man, the narrator describes his life and how it revolves around food. The soot-covered kitchen, where lizards and cockroaches reign; the food cooked by generations of women; the crimes he perpetrates in a kitchen; the many vile, disgusting aspects of food, from its decay to its digestion, its connection to various bodily functions; the kitchen as the heart of the house. There’s vomit, piss, shit, worms, slime, mud, blood, filth of all kinds.
I was torn in different directions by this book. It’s creative (how many ways can a person find to connect food to something disgusting?). It is at times thought-provoking, when one stops to think of all the more horrendous aspects of life, like communalism, bigotry, terrorism, and crime, that Javed works into his protagonist’s tale. It is, often, almost mesmerizing in the story-telling.
I’m not squeamish, and though the rather more revolting aspects of this book (and barely a page goes by without something revolting coming up) were irritating, they didn’t really put me off. What put me off, instead, was the vagueness of it, what I thought a lack of clarity about what all this repulsiveness was supposed to achieve. Shock value? I don’t know; after a while, I became inured to it all, and just read on, hoping that some light would emerge at the end of the tunnel. It never did, not for me.
While I can see that Khalid Javed is immensely skilled and very creative, I cannot summon up a liking for the more roundabout, obscure messages (which I suppose) underlie this text. There was just too much metaphor, too much obfuscation, confusion and vagueness here to hold my attention long.
Ultimately, this one wasn’t for me.
The Paradise of House is narrated from the point of view of Hafeezuddin Babar, aka Guddu Miyan, an orphan who grows up in a large joint family. From when he was a child to the present, when he’s an old man, the narrator describes his life and how it revolves around food. The soot-covered kitchen, where lizards and cockroaches reign; the food cooked by generations of women; the crimes he perpetrates in a kitchen; the many vile, disgusting aspects of food, from its decay to its digestion, its connection to various bodily functions; the kitchen as the heart of the house. There’s vomit, piss, shit, worms, slime, mud, blood, filth of all kinds.
I was torn in different directions by this book. It’s creative (how many ways can a person find to connect food to something disgusting?). It is at times thought-provoking, when one stops to think of all the more horrendous aspects of life, like communalism, bigotry, terrorism, and crime, that Javed works into his protagonist’s tale. It is, often, almost mesmerizing in the story-telling.
I’m not squeamish, and though the rather more revolting aspects of this book (and barely a page goes by without something revolting coming up) were irritating, they didn’t really put me off. What put me off, instead, was the vagueness of it, what I thought a lack of clarity about what all this repulsiveness was supposed to achieve. Shock value? I don’t know; after a while, I became inured to it all, and just read on, hoping that some light would emerge at the end of the tunnel. It never did, not for me.
While I can see that Khalid Javed is immensely skilled and very creative, I cannot summon up a liking for the more roundabout, obscure messages (which I suppose) underlie this text. There was just too much metaphor, too much obfuscation, confusion and vagueness here to hold my attention long.
Ultimately, this one wasn’t for me.
February 1, 2023
Have you ever been at an event, say a panel of speakers, when someone in the audience asks a question you can’t hear? The answer is audible, but it doesn’t make sense. It has no context. For me, that is this book. The introduction tells us that Khalid’s writing holds “meaning, overshadowed by the consciousness of fear, disease and failure, spawned by the evil in human nature.” The later part is clear, it is the meaning that is not. Perhaps there needs to be more groundwork laid in understanding Urdu fiction before taking on this title.
My rating reflects the challenge this book posed for me not what it might pose for others. One reason might be that, according to the introduction, Khalid has the courage to, “feel and then observe the sordidness, and, one might almost say, negative modes of existence: eating, defecating, making love in a mechanical and unloving way, falling ill, a narrow environment of malodorous things and objects.” The protaganist’s pervasive gloomy mood caused a book hangover—the lovely periwinkle sky seemed washed out; the crisp chill of winter took on a bite. But those impressions dissipated because I am stubborn. I believe in our better angels.
My rating reflects the challenge this book posed for me not what it might pose for others. One reason might be that, according to the introduction, Khalid has the courage to, “feel and then observe the sordidness, and, one might almost say, negative modes of existence: eating, defecating, making love in a mechanical and unloving way, falling ill, a narrow environment of malodorous things and objects.” The protaganist’s pervasive gloomy mood caused a book hangover—the lovely periwinkle sky seemed washed out; the crisp chill of winter took on a bite. But those impressions dissipated because I am stubborn. I believe in our better angels.
June 9, 2022
بھارتی اردو ناول میں اب تک صرف صدیق عالم ہی متاثر کرسکے ہیں. خالد جاوید بھارتی اردو ناول میں اہم نام ہیں مگر وہ مغربی جادائی حقیقت نگاری کے جواہر کو اردو میں پرونے کی کوشش کرتے ہیں۔
یہ ناول خالد جاوید کے دوسرے دو ناولوں سے بہتر ہے. بہرحال مضبوط بنیادی خیال کا فقدان موجود رہا۔
قطع نظر کہ ان کا فن پارہ میرا شعوری وجود جھنجھوڑ نہیں سکا، خالد جاوید کی عاجزی میں کوئی شک نہیں. ان کی تصانیف کے پیش الفاظ کی اپنی اہمیت ہوتی ہے. اگر وہ آپ بار بار پڑھ لیں تو شاید میری سوچ سے مختلف خاکہ نہیں بنے گا۔
یہ ناول خالد جاوید کے دوسرے دو ناولوں سے بہتر ہے. بہرحال مضبوط بنیادی خیال کا فقدان موجود رہا۔
قطع نظر کہ ان کا فن پارہ میرا شعوری وجود جھنجھوڑ نہیں سکا، خالد جاوید کی عاجزی میں کوئی شک نہیں. ان کی تصانیف کے پیش الفاظ کی اپنی اہمیت ہوتی ہے. اگر وہ آپ بار بار پڑھ لیں تو شاید میری سوچ سے مختلف خاکہ نہیں بنے گا۔
September 17, 2022
SYNOPSIS
This is the story of Guddu Miyan, right from his childhood up to old age in a Muslim joint family set up. From a very young age, Guddu discovers a strange relationship with food. Wrong food cooked on the wrong day brings out the worst in him and he surrenders himself to the calling.
#bookhoarderreviews
Be it birth, be it death.
Be it sorrow, be it celebration.
Food is of utmost importance to mark every occasion. Different events call for a different variety of food cooked in varied styles in a little room known as the kitchen, the Paradise of Food.
The story spans around the life of Guddu Miyan, who loses his parents at a very young age. He lives with his joint family consisting of paternal as well as maternal side of relatives in his ancestral house. With so many people residing in a house, the kitchen is a place for bonding as well as conflicts.
Guddu Miyan does not only see it all but he has a surreal relationship with the kitchen where his emotions are tangled with the fragrance of food being cooked. Particular foods bring out something sinister in him and make him do some ugly and grotesque things. But no one sees Guddu Miyan.
The descriptions are extremely raw and picturesque and the story is unfathomable and gripping. It stirred a lot of emotions in me. I abhorred the central character and at the same time sympathised with what he endured during his life. I could feel his suffocation at the inability to express himself but also felt like dealing with him for his actions.
The story emphasises the theory of Karma and asserts that all our actions have consequences. The story encapsulates some historic moments as well, woven beautifully in the story.
It has a haunting feeling with the metaphorical writing. The incidents were described elaborately and the author hasn't shied away from giving the minutest and goriest of the details.
I loved how the story unfolds the protagonist's life one layer at a time diving deep into human emotions and his connection with food. But the monologues of the protagonist at times went on to drag the story. Though they were deep but became too philosophical and repetitive for my taste.
The book has so many layers to it that a single reading will certainly not be enough to appreciate the thought process of the author. A re-read is definitely called for!!
This is the story of Guddu Miyan, right from his childhood up to old age in a Muslim joint family set up. From a very young age, Guddu discovers a strange relationship with food. Wrong food cooked on the wrong day brings out the worst in him and he surrenders himself to the calling.
#bookhoarderreviews
Be it birth, be it death.
Be it sorrow, be it celebration.
Food is of utmost importance to mark every occasion. Different events call for a different variety of food cooked in varied styles in a little room known as the kitchen, the Paradise of Food.
The story spans around the life of Guddu Miyan, who loses his parents at a very young age. He lives with his joint family consisting of paternal as well as maternal side of relatives in his ancestral house. With so many people residing in a house, the kitchen is a place for bonding as well as conflicts.
Guddu Miyan does not only see it all but he has a surreal relationship with the kitchen where his emotions are tangled with the fragrance of food being cooked. Particular foods bring out something sinister in him and make him do some ugly and grotesque things. But no one sees Guddu Miyan.
The descriptions are extremely raw and picturesque and the story is unfathomable and gripping. It stirred a lot of emotions in me. I abhorred the central character and at the same time sympathised with what he endured during his life. I could feel his suffocation at the inability to express himself but also felt like dealing with him for his actions.
The story emphasises the theory of Karma and asserts that all our actions have consequences. The story encapsulates some historic moments as well, woven beautifully in the story.
It has a haunting feeling with the metaphorical writing. The incidents were described elaborately and the author hasn't shied away from giving the minutest and goriest of the details.
I loved how the story unfolds the protagonist's life one layer at a time diving deep into human emotions and his connection with food. But the monologues of the protagonist at times went on to drag the story. Though they were deep but became too philosophical and repetitive for my taste.
The book has so many layers to it that a single reading will certainly not be enough to appreciate the thought process of the author. A re-read is definitely called for!!
November 27, 2022
For human actions, the motive may belong anywhere on a wide spectrum -- from sputters in the alimentary canal to injunctions of enlightenment. Hafeezuddin Babar, the narrator-protagonist in this novel, compresses this spectrum. This leads him to interpret things strangely. Problems of philosophy conflate with concerns about the digestive tract. Food becomes the wellspring of all happenings. Crime and punishment are accidents in the kitchen.
Hafeez an orphan in a large joint family, his life revolving around the kitchen (bawarchi khana) where all the dalliances, battles, and crimes happen. The kitchen is the most dangerous place in the house/world - this is the education that Hafeez gains. And this offers a superb ride till it is he who acts -- rather, till the time that errors in others' cooking lead to (criminal?) action by the protagonist.
But when Hafeez steps out of this house and becomes a man of the world, he becomes a sort of Saleem Sinai, connected with History. Now when there is a cooking mistake (like a bad dish cooked in a hostel mess), something on the national plane happens (Indira Gandhi is killed). Around this point, losing aspects of the 'personal', Hafeez's anguish about crime and punishment become taxing for the reader. Philosophizing takes over. Things do happen in Hafeez's personal life - he graduates, gets married, becomes a father etc. - but the weight of past events, dealt with through abstractions, prohibits the reader from attaching any interpretative weight to the new events. Upshot is that from about the 50% mark to the 80% mark, the novel matters less.
The end in this kind of novel is always death, real or symbolic, always a kind of death that ties in the randomness of everything that came before, a kind of poetic closure that clarifies things. Its specific manner may surprise, but its essence does not.
Hafeez an orphan in a large joint family, his life revolving around the kitchen (bawarchi khana) where all the dalliances, battles, and crimes happen. The kitchen is the most dangerous place in the house/world - this is the education that Hafeez gains. And this offers a superb ride till it is he who acts -- rather, till the time that errors in others' cooking lead to (criminal?) action by the protagonist.
But when Hafeez steps out of this house and becomes a man of the world, he becomes a sort of Saleem Sinai, connected with History. Now when there is a cooking mistake (like a bad dish cooked in a hostel mess), something on the national plane happens (Indira Gandhi is killed). Around this point, losing aspects of the 'personal', Hafeez's anguish about crime and punishment become taxing for the reader. Philosophizing takes over. Things do happen in Hafeez's personal life - he graduates, gets married, becomes a father etc. - but the weight of past events, dealt with through abstractions, prohibits the reader from attaching any interpretative weight to the new events. Upshot is that from about the 50% mark to the 80% mark, the novel matters less.
The end in this kind of novel is always death, real or symbolic, always a kind of death that ties in the randomness of everything that came before, a kind of poetic closure that clarifies things. Its specific manner may surprise, but its essence does not.
December 2, 2022
خالد جاوید کو پڑھنا آسان نہیں ہے۔
ان کے ناول 'نعمت خانہ' کا بیانیہ فلسفیانہ اور پیچیدہ تو ہے ہی لیکن اصل مشکل ان کی تحریر میں موجود زندگی کے، انسانی حسیات کے، تعلقات کے اور جذبات کے ان تاریک پہلووں کو پڑھ کر ہوتی ہے جنہیں وہ ادھیڑ کر ہمارے سامنے رکھ دیتے۔ ان پہلووں کو جو ہمیں بظاہر نظر ہی نہیں آتے یا یوں ہے کہ ہم ان سے تمام عمر نظر چرائے رہتے ہیں۔
یہ بات باعث حیرت ہے کہ خالد جاوید صاحب کس طرح سماجی مسائل میں انسانی زندگی کے فلسفے کو تلاش کرتے ہوئے معاشرے کے تاریک اور نادیدہ گوشوں کی گہرائی میں اتر کر ناصرف محسوس کرتے ہیں بلکہ انہیں تمام تر تلخیوں کے ساتھ لکھ بھی دیتے ہیں۔
میں سمجھتا ہوں کہ ان کے انداز تحریر کو بالعموم اور 'نعمت خانہ' کو بالخصوص اردو ادب کی جمالیات کے مروجہ معیار کی رد کہا جا سکتا ہے۔
شعور اور لاشعور کے درمیان حافظے کو اور باورچی خانے کو مرکز بنا کر تخلیق کیا گیا یہ ناول حقیقت سے ذرا سا اوپر دکھائی دیتا ہے جہاں اس کا علامتی اسلوب اپنے اندر کہیں کہیں تمثیلات اور سرئیلزم لئے گمشدہ ماضی کی روح کی طرح بھٹکتا ہوا محسوس ہوتا ہے۔
اس میں رونما ہونے والے تمام اہم واقعات باورچی خانے ہی میں پیش آتے ہیں۔ باورچی خانہ اور اس میں موجود تمام اشیاء جہاں زندگی کی علامت نظر آتی ہیں وہیں موت کی بھی علامت نظر آتی ہیں۔ اس ناول میں فلسفہ ہے، وحشت ہے، نفرت ہے، اداسی ہے، موت ہے۔ خود خالد جاوید اسے موت کی کتاب کہتے ہیں، اور درست کہتے ہیں کیونکہ اس میں موت زندہ ہے اور ہر جگہ ہے۔
ناول کا مرکزی کردار حفیظ عرف گڈو ایک ناکام وکیل ہے، جو بچپن میں بہت بڑی جوائنٹ فیملی میں رہتا ہے، اس سے بچپن میں دو قتل ہوجاتے ہیں، مگر وہ ان سے صاف بچ نکلنے کے باوجود تمام عمر احساس جرم میں مبتلا ضمیر کی عدالت کے کٹہرے میں کھڑا رہتا ہے اور اپنے ہی خلاف کیس کو مضبوط بنانے کیلئے حافظے کی مدد سے عرضداشت لکھتا رہتا ہے۔
ناول یاسیت کی ایک دبیز چادر اوڑھے ہوئے ہے، جہاں دکھ کا کہرا چھایا ہوا ہے اور سناٹوں کا شور اٹھتا محسوس ہوتا ہے۔ بالخصوص ان دو مواقع پر جہاں ایک کبھی نہ پیدا ہونے والی بچی بہت پیار سے اپنے باپ کو "ابو میرے ابو" پکارتی ہے اور ایک پالتو توتے کی مردہ روح "گڈو میاں آگئے گڈو میاں آگئے" کہتی سنائی دیتی ہے۔
ناول کا ایک اقتباس ملاحضہ کیجئے:
"سامنے اس کا جنازہ تھا اور دوسری طرف گزرا زمانہ، باندوں کے پلنگ پر بیٹھا اس کے اوپر ہنس رہا تھا۔ اس کی ہڈیوں کو ٹھوکر مارنے سے اس کی اپنی پنڈلیاں ہی اینٹھ کر رہ گئیں۔ تو سب کچھ، دراصل، کیا صرف اداس کر دینے کیلیے ہی ہوا تھا؟
قمیص کے نیلے کالر پر بیٹھے ہوئے کاکروچ کا حجم بھیگ کر سکڑ گیا۔ مگر سکڑ کر گناہ اور بھی طویل اور بھاری ہوگیا۔ تو سب کچھ دراصل، صرف اداس کردینے کیلیے ہی ہوا۔
اس نے سب کچھ ایک کٹھ پتلی کی آنکھ سے دیکھا، جس کے لئے سکھ بھی، دکھ کی ایک پرچھائیں یا نقل ہی تھا۔ زندگی موت کی طرح تھی اور موت زندگی سے مختلف کہاں تھی؟"
اثبات سلسلہ نمبر 34 میں موجود طارق چھتاری کے مضمون 'خالد جاوید کا نعمت خانہ' کے اس اقتباس سے اپنے تبصرے کا اختتام کرنا چاہوں گا جو ناول کے موضوع کو بہت بہتر انداز سے بیان کرتا ہے:
"یہ درست ہے کہ خالد جاوید Interpretation کے قائل نہیں ہیں مگر ان کا یہ ناول جب آخری مراحل میں پہنچتا ہے تو قاری کی توجہ اس کے موضوع کی جانب مبذول ہونے لگتی ہے اور ہم کہہ سکتے ہیں کہ موضوع کے لحاظ سے یہ ناول Joint Family سے Nuclear Family تک کے اذیت ناک سفر کی داستان ہے۔
ابتدائی ابواب میں حفیظ عرف گڈو کے ایک ایسے مشترکہ خاندان کی عکاسی کی گئی ہے جہاں قریبی اور دور کے بے شمار رشتے دار ایک ساتھ رہتے ہیں، وہیں ناول کے آخری حصے میں حفیظ اپنی بیوی اور دو بچوں کے ساتھ شہر کے چھوٹے سے فلیٹ میں زندگی گزارتے ہوۓ دکھایا گیا ہے۔
اگر ہم دونوں طرح کی طرز زندگی کا تقابل کریں تو اس نتیجے پر پہنچتے ہیں کہ مشترکہ خاندان اپنی تمام تر
برائیوں، خامیوں، سازشوں اور نفرتوں کے باوجود Nuclear Family کی تنہائی ، خودغرضی اور بے تعلقی کی زندگی سے بہت بہتر تھا۔ اب حفیظ تنہا ہے۔ بیوی کا رویہ کسی دشمن سے کم نہیں۔ بیٹے اپنی مرضی کے مالک ہیں اور باپ کے ہر عمل سے اختلاف رکھتے ہیں۔"
ان کے ناول 'نعمت خانہ' کا بیانیہ فلسفیانہ اور پیچیدہ تو ہے ہی لیکن اصل مشکل ان کی تحریر میں موجود زندگی کے، انسانی حسیات کے، تعلقات کے اور جذبات کے ان تاریک پہلووں کو پڑھ کر ہوتی ہے جنہیں وہ ادھیڑ کر ہمارے سامنے رکھ دیتے۔ ان پہلووں کو جو ہمیں بظاہر نظر ہی نہیں آتے یا یوں ہے کہ ہم ان سے تمام عمر نظر چرائے رہتے ہیں۔
یہ بات باعث حیرت ہے کہ خالد جاوید صاحب کس طرح سماجی مسائل میں انسانی زندگی کے فلسفے کو تلاش کرتے ہوئے معاشرے کے تاریک اور نادیدہ گوشوں کی گہرائی میں اتر کر ناصرف محسوس کرتے ہیں بلکہ انہیں تمام تر تلخیوں کے ساتھ لکھ بھی دیتے ہیں۔
میں سمجھتا ہوں کہ ان کے انداز تحریر کو بالعموم اور 'نعمت خانہ' کو بالخصوص اردو ادب کی جمالیات کے مروجہ معیار کی رد کہا جا سکتا ہے۔
شعور اور لاشعور کے درمیان حافظے کو اور باورچی خانے کو مرکز بنا کر تخلیق کیا گیا یہ ناول حقیقت سے ذرا سا اوپر دکھائی دیتا ہے جہاں اس کا علامتی اسلوب اپنے اندر کہیں کہیں تمثیلات اور سرئیلزم لئے گمشدہ ماضی کی روح کی طرح بھٹکتا ہوا محسوس ہوتا ہے۔
اس میں رونما ہونے والے تمام اہم واقعات باورچی خانے ہی میں پیش آتے ہیں۔ باورچی خانہ اور اس میں موجود تمام اشیاء جہاں زندگی کی علامت نظر آتی ہیں وہیں موت کی بھی علامت نظر آتی ہیں۔ اس ناول میں فلسفہ ہے، وحشت ہے، نفرت ہے، اداسی ہے، موت ہے۔ خود خالد جاوید اسے موت کی کتاب کہتے ہیں، اور درست کہتے ہیں کیونکہ اس میں موت زندہ ہے اور ہر جگہ ہے۔
ناول کا مرکزی کردار حفیظ عرف گڈو ایک ناکام وکیل ہے، جو بچپن میں بہت بڑی جوائنٹ فیملی میں رہتا ہے، اس سے بچپن میں دو قتل ہوجاتے ہیں، مگر وہ ان سے صاف بچ نکلنے کے باوجود تمام عمر احساس جرم میں مبتلا ضمیر کی عدالت کے کٹہرے میں کھڑا رہتا ہے اور اپنے ہی خلاف کیس کو مضبوط بنانے کیلئے حافظے کی مدد سے عرضداشت لکھتا رہتا ہے۔
ناول یاسیت کی ایک دبیز چادر اوڑھے ہوئے ہے، جہاں دکھ کا کہرا چھایا ہوا ہے اور سناٹوں کا شور اٹھتا محسوس ہوتا ہے۔ بالخصوص ان دو مواقع پر جہاں ایک کبھی نہ پیدا ہونے والی بچی بہت پیار سے اپنے باپ کو "ابو میرے ابو" پکارتی ہے اور ایک پالتو توتے کی مردہ روح "گڈو میاں آگئے گڈو میاں آگئے" کہتی سنائی دیتی ہے۔
ناول کا ایک اقتباس ملاحضہ کیجئے:
"سامنے اس کا جنازہ تھا اور دوسری طرف گزرا زمانہ، باندوں کے پلنگ پر بیٹھا اس کے اوپر ہنس رہا تھا۔ اس کی ہڈیوں کو ٹھوکر مارنے سے اس کی اپنی پنڈلیاں ہی اینٹھ کر رہ گئیں۔ تو سب کچھ، دراصل، کیا صرف اداس کر دینے کیلیے ہی ہوا تھا؟
قمیص کے نیلے کالر پر بیٹھے ہوئے کاکروچ کا حجم بھیگ کر سکڑ گیا۔ مگر سکڑ کر گناہ اور بھی طویل اور بھاری ہوگیا۔ تو سب کچھ دراصل، صرف اداس کردینے کیلیے ہی ہوا۔
اس نے سب کچھ ایک کٹھ پتلی کی آنکھ سے دیکھا، جس کے لئے سکھ بھی، دکھ کی ایک پرچھائیں یا نقل ہی تھا۔ زندگی موت کی طرح تھی اور موت زندگی سے مختلف کہاں تھی؟"
اثبات سلسلہ نمبر 34 میں موجود طارق چھتاری کے مضمون 'خالد جاوید کا نعمت خانہ' کے اس اقتباس سے اپنے تبصرے کا اختتام کرنا چاہوں گا جو ناول کے موضوع کو بہت بہتر انداز سے بیان کرتا ہے:
"یہ درست ہے کہ خالد جاوید Interpretation کے قائل نہیں ہیں مگر ان کا یہ ناول جب آخری مراحل میں پہنچتا ہے تو قاری کی توجہ اس کے موضوع کی جانب مبذول ہونے لگتی ہے اور ہم کہہ سکتے ہیں کہ موضوع کے لحاظ سے یہ ناول Joint Family سے Nuclear Family تک کے اذیت ناک سفر کی داستان ہے۔
ابتدائی ابواب میں حفیظ عرف گڈو کے ایک ایسے مشترکہ خاندان کی عکاسی کی گئی ہے جہاں قریبی اور دور کے بے شمار رشتے دار ایک ساتھ رہتے ہیں، وہیں ناول کے آخری حصے میں حفیظ اپنی بیوی اور دو بچوں کے ساتھ شہر کے چھوٹے سے فلیٹ میں زندگی گزارتے ہوۓ دکھایا گیا ہے۔
اگر ہم دونوں طرح کی طرز زندگی کا تقابل کریں تو اس نتیجے پر پہنچتے ہیں کہ مشترکہ خاندان اپنی تمام تر
برائیوں، خامیوں، سازشوں اور نفرتوں کے باوجود Nuclear Family کی تنہائی ، خودغرضی اور بے تعلقی کی زندگی سے بہت بہتر تھا۔ اب حفیظ تنہا ہے۔ بیوی کا رویہ کسی دشمن سے کم نہیں۔ بیٹے اپنی مرضی کے مالک ہیں اور باپ کے ہر عمل سے اختلاف رکھتے ہیں۔"
July 22, 2022
"موت کی کتاب" کی جامعیت تو ایک رمز ہے جس کو سمجھنا آسان نہیں۔ "نعمت خانہ" تو ایک دریا طرح ہے جس میں روانی اور آسانی ہے۔
خالد جاوید کی نثر تہہ دار ہے جو تکرار مطالعہ کی طبگار ہے۔ موضوع تحریر میں سادگی ہے مگر انداز تحریر میں پیچیدگی ہے۔ کردار حقیقت سے قریب تر ہیں۔ داخلی کشمکش نفسیاتی سطح اور خود کلامی کے انداز میں بیان کی گئی ہے۔
مرکزی کردار کے ہاتھوں دو قتل وہ بھی زندگی کے ابتدائی دنوں میں حیران کن ہے لیکن بیان سنسنی خیز انداز میں نہیں کیا گیا۔ اور ان جرائم کا اس کردار کے ضمیر بوجھ بھی نہیں۔ گاہے بگاہے ہندوستانی سیاسی تاریخ کو پس منظر کے طور پر مختصراً بیان کیا گیا۔ عالمی مصنفین اور فلاسفرز کے حوالہ جات کو صرف ضرورت کے طور پر استمعال کیا گیا۔ اوریجنیلیٹی کو برقرار رکھا گیا۔
ناول میں انسان کی داخلی دنیا جو کہ ابھی تک بہت حد تک نامعلوم ہے اسکی جہتوں کو دریافت کرنے کی سعی کی گئی ہے۔ روز مرہ کی مشینی زندگی کو کراہت سے بیان کیا گیا ہے۔ انسان کی روحانیت اور تہذیبیت بھی مادیت اور وجودیت کے ساتھ جڑی ہے۔ اور یہ انسان کی شکم پروری اور نفس پرستی سے وابستہ ہے۔
مرکزی کردار کے ساتھ دیگر کرداروں کا تعلق کوئی مثالی نہیں رہا بلکہ ہمیشہ ایک تناو کی کیفیت سے دو چار رہا۔ شعرانہ انصاف اس طرح ہوا کہ مرکزی کردار اپنی ہی اولاد کے ہاتھوں قتل ہوا۔
بجا طور پر یہ ایک علامتی ناول ہے لیکن یہ سطح پر روایتی ناول کے تقاضوں کو بھی پورا کرتا ہے۔ تکرار مطالعہ کا متقاضی اس ناول شمار بجا طور پر سنجیدہ ادب میں ہوتا ہے۔ کاٹ دار جملے، گہرا طنز اور یاسیت زدہ سنجیدگی ناول کا خاصہ ہے۔
440 صفحات کے ناول شہرزاد نے شائع کیا ہے اور اسکی قیمت 900 روپے ہے۔
قاری ناچیز،
فیصل مجید
خالد جاوید کی نثر تہہ دار ہے جو تکرار مطالعہ کی طبگار ہے۔ موضوع تحریر میں سادگی ہے مگر انداز تحریر میں پیچیدگی ہے۔ کردار حقیقت سے قریب تر ہیں۔ داخلی کشمکش نفسیاتی سطح اور خود کلامی کے انداز میں بیان کی گئی ہے۔
مرکزی کردار کے ہاتھوں دو قتل وہ بھی زندگی کے ابتدائی دنوں میں حیران کن ہے لیکن بیان سنسنی خیز انداز میں نہیں کیا گیا۔ اور ان جرائم کا اس کردار کے ضمیر بوجھ بھی نہیں۔ گاہے بگاہے ہندوستانی سیاسی تاریخ کو پس منظر کے طور پر مختصراً بیان کیا گیا۔ عالمی مصنفین اور فلاسفرز کے حوالہ جات کو صرف ضرورت کے طور پر استمعال کیا گیا۔ اوریجنیلیٹی کو برقرار رکھا گیا۔
ناول میں انسان کی داخلی دنیا جو کہ ابھی تک بہت حد تک نامعلوم ہے اسکی جہتوں کو دریافت کرنے کی سعی کی گئی ہے۔ روز مرہ کی مشینی زندگی کو کراہت سے بیان کیا گیا ہے۔ انسان کی روحانیت اور تہذیبیت بھی مادیت اور وجودیت کے ساتھ جڑی ہے۔ اور یہ انسان کی شکم پروری اور نفس پرستی سے وابستہ ہے۔
مرکزی کردار کے ساتھ دیگر کرداروں کا تعلق کوئی مثالی نہیں رہا بلکہ ہمیشہ ایک تناو کی کیفیت سے دو چار رہا۔ شعرانہ انصاف اس طرح ہوا کہ مرکزی کردار اپنی ہی اولاد کے ہاتھوں قتل ہوا۔
بجا طور پر یہ ایک علامتی ناول ہے لیکن یہ سطح پر روایتی ناول کے تقاضوں کو بھی پورا کرتا ہے۔ تکرار مطالعہ کا متقاضی اس ناول شمار بجا طور پر سنجیدہ ادب میں ہوتا ہے۔ کاٹ دار جملے، گہرا طنز اور یاسیت زدہ سنجیدگی ناول کا خاصہ ہے۔
440 صفحات کے ناول شہرزاد نے شائع کیا ہے اور اسکی قیمت 900 روپے ہے۔
قاری ناچیز،
فیصل مجید
January 3, 2023
I was very reluctant to read The Paradise of Food, for multiple reasons but mainly because I was misled by the title.
But then I started reading it.
And now I understand the title! (every reader will have a different interpretation of it)
But should anyone try it?
Yes and No
Yes- if you have an appetite for lengthy prose. If you could look at humanity in EVERYONE! if you are not easily disgusted with by the ugliness of this world.
No- don't read it, if you are a traditionalist. Don't read it if you just read words and do not understand the context.
There were some pages where I was shocked, bewildered, disgusted, and sad at the same time.
But throughout I just loved the writing and the genius behind this extraordinary tale, and I just couldn't help but marvel at the genius of Khalid Jawed and Baran Farooqui
But then I started reading it.
And now I understand the title! (every reader will have a different interpretation of it)
But should anyone try it?
Yes and No
Yes- if you have an appetite for lengthy prose. If you could look at humanity in EVERYONE! if you are not easily disgusted with by the ugliness of this world.
No- don't read it, if you are a traditionalist. Don't read it if you just read words and do not understand the context.
There were some pages where I was shocked, bewildered, disgusted, and sad at the same time.
But throughout I just loved the writing and the genius behind this extraordinary tale, and I just couldn't help but marvel at the genius of Khalid Jawed and Baran Farooqui
Read
May 29, 2024While this is not a proper review, I'd like to note that this is an unusual novel that offers what the blurb promises - a fine instance of the 'asethetics of disgust' and a certain savagery with respect to truth and self-enquiry.
There are surreal elements here as well as a sense of discombobulation. However, what I like most about this novel is the unreliability of its narrator. Other reviewers have mentioned several other aspects of style etc. I'd just like to add that I was reminded of my experience of reading Tolstoy's War and Peace as a teenager. There are several seques into philosophy and thinking about the human condition and so on. When I was about 15/16, it took all of my committment to finishing slightly difficult texts to get through the last fifty pages of War and Peace. Now that I'm older, I do not mind segues into philosophy and I 'get' unexpected shifts of tone or narrative context. I did struggle with the first few pages (and also a few pages towards the end) for they are not plot-centered and therefore may seem disconnected from the rest of the novel. But even if there are times when the reader is wondering what on earth is going on, it pays off to persist, to go past the prologue. The first chapter on, it does suck you in, and and then to find a very unusual resolution.
There are surreal elements here as well as a sense of discombobulation. However, what I like most about this novel is the unreliability of its narrator. Other reviewers have mentioned several other aspects of style etc. I'd just like to add that I was reminded of my experience of reading Tolstoy's War and Peace as a teenager. There are several seques into philosophy and thinking about the human condition and so on. When I was about 15/16, it took all of my committment to finishing slightly difficult texts to get through the last fifty pages of War and Peace. Now that I'm older, I do not mind segues into philosophy and I 'get' unexpected shifts of tone or narrative context. I did struggle with the first few pages (and also a few pages towards the end) for they are not plot-centered and therefore may seem disconnected from the rest of the novel. But even if there are times when the reader is wondering what on earth is going on, it pays off to persist, to go past the prologue. The first chapter on, it does suck you in, and and then to find a very unusual resolution.
June 1, 2023
A multilayered bildungsroman, a beautifully crafted book of grotesqueness and disquiet.
“DO YOU KNOW THE MOST DANGEROUS PLACE IN THE HOUSE? REMEMBER, KITCHEN IS THE NAME OF A DANGEROUS AND RISK-LADEN PLACE.”
Narrated by Hafeezuddin Babar, fondly called Guddu Miyan, an orphan who grows up amidst a joint family, he is always drawn towards the kitchen and he keeps repeating that ”the kitchen is a dangerous place,” which juxtaposes the title. The kitchen in the house he grew up in is dark, dilapidated with black walls and broken tiles, with creepy crawlies, lizards, small snakes and rats.
The novel gives the feel of Marquez’s One hundred years of Solitude and Dostovesky’s Crime and Punishment.
In Urdu Anjum means star, the author has named all the prominent women in Hafeez’s life Anjum: Anjum baaji, Anjum baano, Anjum Apa, Anjum Jaan and his wife Anjum.
He kills two men who harm the ‘Anjums’ and carries its guilt throughout his life.
Korma, biryani, pulao, khichdi, the whole story revolves around the kitchen. He is often seen around the kitchen, enamoured by the sweet, sour, and spicy aromas of the delectable dishes. After an accident, Guddu Miyan starts getting premonitions. He associates the dishes cooked that day as an ill-omen and can foresee imminent danger, or death of someone.
“COOKING A DISH OF FISH IN SPICY PASTE ON THE WRONG DAY AND AT THE WRONG TIME WAS INEVITABLY GOING TO HAVE DANGEROUS CONSEQUENCES. THIS WAS MY FIRM BELIEF AND FAITH “
As much as he loved the food dished out in the old kitchen, he hates whatever his wife Anjum makes.
The author brings out all the muck, filth, goo, and slime in and around us, which we often ignore or pretend not to see. The food we eat makes us and breaks us too, making it an elixir or venom.
“THE BODY HAS TO ENDURE THE PUNISHMENT FOR THE MADNESS OF THE SPIRIT.”
I’m sure the book would have read like poetry in Urdu, though I read the English version with the members of my bookclub
“DO YOU KNOW THE MOST DANGEROUS PLACE IN THE HOUSE? REMEMBER, KITCHEN IS THE NAME OF A DANGEROUS AND RISK-LADEN PLACE.”
Narrated by Hafeezuddin Babar, fondly called Guddu Miyan, an orphan who grows up amidst a joint family, he is always drawn towards the kitchen and he keeps repeating that ”the kitchen is a dangerous place,” which juxtaposes the title. The kitchen in the house he grew up in is dark, dilapidated with black walls and broken tiles, with creepy crawlies, lizards, small snakes and rats.
The novel gives the feel of Marquez’s One hundred years of Solitude and Dostovesky’s Crime and Punishment.
In Urdu Anjum means star, the author has named all the prominent women in Hafeez’s life Anjum: Anjum baaji, Anjum baano, Anjum Apa, Anjum Jaan and his wife Anjum.
He kills two men who harm the ‘Anjums’ and carries its guilt throughout his life.
Korma, biryani, pulao, khichdi, the whole story revolves around the kitchen. He is often seen around the kitchen, enamoured by the sweet, sour, and spicy aromas of the delectable dishes. After an accident, Guddu Miyan starts getting premonitions. He associates the dishes cooked that day as an ill-omen and can foresee imminent danger, or death of someone.
“COOKING A DISH OF FISH IN SPICY PASTE ON THE WRONG DAY AND AT THE WRONG TIME WAS INEVITABLY GOING TO HAVE DANGEROUS CONSEQUENCES. THIS WAS MY FIRM BELIEF AND FAITH “
As much as he loved the food dished out in the old kitchen, he hates whatever his wife Anjum makes.
The author brings out all the muck, filth, goo, and slime in and around us, which we often ignore or pretend not to see. The food we eat makes us and breaks us too, making it an elixir or venom.
“THE BODY HAS TO ENDURE THE PUNISHMENT FOR THE MADNESS OF THE SPIRIT.”
I’m sure the book would have read like poetry in Urdu, though I read the English version with the members of my bookclub
July 29, 2023
The Paradise of Food (Nemat Khana or نعمت خانہ in the original Urdu) is an elusive and at times beguiling work. There’s no doubt about its significance for the contemporary Urdu canon, existing in conversation with western writers and upending linguistic conventions with its complex prose. Baran Farooqi deserves praise for her translation. The themes this work tackles are essential: documenting the decline of the joint family in northern India, particularly in a Muslim mohalla, as we see the joint family replaced by a modern world characterized by loneliness, isolation, and rising fundamentalism. The kitchen serves as a powerful metaphor for this, once teeming with life but now hollowed out and empty. But for all its potential for a great novel, the execution can feel like a muddled mess. Javed never offers a diagnosis for the problems he perceives and the characters simply float through this work as supremely unlikeable misanthropes. When the most rigorous discussion about a book is whether it is self-aware about its misogyny, there’s a problem. I can understand depictions of violence against women and other atrocities in a novel if there is a point to it, but for the life of me I can’t see one here.
November 16, 2022
I expected to LOVE this. It had all of the elements that I would normally love. I thought it was good, but I didn't end up loving it. I don't know if it is because I am on a nonfiction kick at the moment or if my own state of mind isn't right for this book at the moment or what, but I will likely end up rereading this one at some point.
August 6, 2023
In definition, the house is a safe space that provides asylum to humans from the threats lurking outside. It keeps the inhabitants safe from the perils of nature and the malice of invaders. However, within this safe space too, is a place filled with objects of violence, where the fire that is used to cook delicacies can potentially burn humans alive and pots and pans can quickly become weapons.
This place is the kitchen, a space where what is perceived as elixir can as well be poison. Described in Khalid Jawed’s ‘The Paradise of Food’ as the most dangerous portion of the house, the kitchen is a transformative space that carries a plethora of meanings, many of which find expression in Jawed’s brilliant novel that describes the myriad ways in which the course of our lives are determined by our hunger and appetite.
Winner of last year’s JCB Prize for Literature, ‘The Paradise of Food’ was originally published in Urdu in 2014 with the title ‘Nemat Khana’. Translated by Baran Farooqi, the novel is the story of an orphaned Muslim boy, lovingly called Guddu Miyaan, who spent his growing years in a joint family. Through his recollections of the past, he divulges the peculiar habits and idiosyncrasies of the family members to the reader as he traces the sources of his guilt and melancholy in memories that haunted him all his life.
By establishing the kitchen as the locus of the house, Jawed sheds light on its paradoxical potential for corrupting and sustaining life. The patriarchal and oppressive influences within the family are laid bare by navigating the appetites of the characters and exploring the close link between the nourishing and the grotesque elements. Bringing things symbolizing life and death into a striking harmony, Jawed prepares the groundwork for delineating the hostility and threat of violence that circumscribes the lives of women and animals in the domestic sphere.
A Dangerous and Risk-Laden Place: The Kitchen
At the core of the novel lies the idea that all things used in the kitchen have concealed within them the ability to turn into a weapon. The protagonist conceives the kitchen as a battleground, implying the possibilities of both triumph and defeat in the acts of creation and consumption. The novel seems to borrow from the Biblical story of Adam and Eve as it builds on the idea of delicacies transmuting into portents of failures, death and disease. The cup of tea enjoyed with a loved relative leads to days of fever and anguish as the narrator realizes that the milk used in making it was spoiled by a lizard. Similarly, the food cooked by one family member compels others to take medicine for indigestion after eating it. Using such instances, Jawed conveys that the food cooked in the kitchen has the potential to nourish as well as poison. By proposing the Kitchen as the locus of the house and indicating the presence of "double faced entities", Jawed seems to provide a commentary on the duality of human existence, wherein the things that support life can coincidentally destroy it as well.
While the kitchen is portrayed as a phantasmagorical space that creates endless possibilities, Jawed does not overlook its complicity in deteriorating the quality of life led by women in the household. In his description of the female members of the family, he observes the violence of domestic roles and their destructive effects. Women in the novel have no freedom to dictate their lives and unquestionably submit to the decisions of the dominating patriarchs. They spend most of their time in the kitchen, with their eyes turning watery because of the smoke and their faces resembling the sooty kitchen walls. As a result of the exhaustive and repetitive cycle of preparing three square meals, their skin becomes insensitive to hard labour.
In an article on domestic work, Marienne Dalla Costa says, "the woman becomes productive inasmuch as the complete denial of her personal autonomy forces her to sublimate her frustration in a series of continuous needs that are always centred in the home". Through a string of striking sentences, Javed depicts how women channel their repressed creative and sexual energy into their domestic work that manifests through their loud and aggressive engagement with the pots and pans in the kitchen. The onerous and backbreaking nature of their work comes to determine their relationship with their husbands as well. Interestingly, through the noticeable absence of men in the kitchen, Jawed’s book succeeds in depicting their indifference to domestic labour and attitude that relegates women to mere objects condemned to preparing meals everyday.
The novel defines the kitchen as a constructed text of humans that contains thousands of hidden meanings. By identifying its significance in occasions of weddings and festivals as well as deaths, the writer locates the essence of the house in the kitchen. In his recognition of hunger as the universal language in the world, the narrator articulates his perception of people and events by noticing the disquiet of their appetites. Throughout the novel, the narrative remains consistent in perpetuating the idea that the essence of man lies in the bowels and all the viciousness and gluttony in his nature is an organic product of his appetite.
While exploring the hostility of the kitchen, the novel also explores it as a space that affirms individuality and sustains friendships. Cooking, like any act of creation, is unique and varies in style from person to person. The roles in the kitchen are executed differently by each family member, resulting in food varying in flavour even when the same recipe is followed. To alleviate the repetitive mundanity of their work, the women in the novel experiment with new recipes, allowing their creativity to find an outlet. As a place that breeds both friendships and rivalries between women, the kitchen is depicted as a transformative space, a metaphorical combat zone that permits innovation, confrontations and sisterhoods.
Co-existence with the Non-Human Other
While explicating the interplay between life and death through the metaphor of hunger, Jawed’s novel depicts that even the animals are victims of their appetites. Small animals like lizards, cockroaches and baby snakes cohabit the family house and make themselves at home by residing in the crevices of its dilapidated structure. Tracing the precarity of their fragile presence in the domestic space, the novel sheds light on crucial themes of indifference, brutality and co-existence. When the narrator compares the lizards and the faces of the women working in the kitchen to the dark sooty walls, he portrays how animals are equally vulnerable to the inimical effects of labour.
The narrator's house gives asylum to various animals, like the parrot who would greet the narrator by his name, the cobra who devoured hens but never bit a human, the rats who successfully avoided mousetraps and squirrels who committed suicides. In the novel, the writer depicts the helplessness and fragility of the existence of animals when a pet squirrel jumps in a hot chulha, after being frightened by the hissing sound of water on blazing wood.
Animals, not used to sounds made in the kitchen, are prone to confusing them for signs of danger and their lives are threatened by modern developments as they do not know how to navigate their way around them safely. Jawed further highlights the painful existence of animals in urban cities using instances where animals die by getting electrocuted by electric poles and wires.
The animals in the novel become witnesses to sins of man and represent the Other whose existence in the public sphere is barely tolerated. The frequency of accidents involving animals in the novel exhibits how inconsiderate and unsuitable man’s world is for animals who although aren’t outrightly denied co-existence, but repeatedly pay the price for living in a space meant for the convenience of man only.
The Violence of Disgust
In his 'Critique of Judgement', Immanuel Kant describes how closely disgust relates with the "lower" senses of smell and taste. Since it is contingent on senses that enter and pervade our body, disgust has an imposing nature that yields an anti-aesthetic effect. As the experience of disgust remains etched in our memory for a longer time, it demands to be remembered. In the novel, through the juxtaposition of dissimilar elements and creation of undesirable combinations, the story progresses in the form of memories that arouse disgust. The writer's decision to bring only the nauseating memories of the narrator to light indicates the persistence of the experience of disgust that overshadows every other sensibility.
The theme of disgust in the novel also portrays the depravity of human life. Using instances where women relish talking about burnt genitals, men wipe their faces clean with chapatis and water of a certain community is polluted by people of different religion, Jawed shows the decadence and lack of morality that characterises modern society. The absence of values and compassion is made apparent as humans themselves are posited as objects of disgust in their desensitisation and indifference to violence.
In his explicit detailing of life sustaining and corrupting elements and their various combinations, Jawed brings to fore the hard truth about life's proximity to death. The brilliance of the book lies in how seamlessly the narrative flows and every phenomenon boils down to the universal language of hunger. Due to its unfiltered descriptions, the book is closer to life and is able to present things that are embarrassing to speak out loud, but constitute the truth of our existence.
This place is the kitchen, a space where what is perceived as elixir can as well be poison. Described in Khalid Jawed’s ‘The Paradise of Food’ as the most dangerous portion of the house, the kitchen is a transformative space that carries a plethora of meanings, many of which find expression in Jawed’s brilliant novel that describes the myriad ways in which the course of our lives are determined by our hunger and appetite.
Winner of last year’s JCB Prize for Literature, ‘The Paradise of Food’ was originally published in Urdu in 2014 with the title ‘Nemat Khana’. Translated by Baran Farooqi, the novel is the story of an orphaned Muslim boy, lovingly called Guddu Miyaan, who spent his growing years in a joint family. Through his recollections of the past, he divulges the peculiar habits and idiosyncrasies of the family members to the reader as he traces the sources of his guilt and melancholy in memories that haunted him all his life.
By establishing the kitchen as the locus of the house, Jawed sheds light on its paradoxical potential for corrupting and sustaining life. The patriarchal and oppressive influences within the family are laid bare by navigating the appetites of the characters and exploring the close link between the nourishing and the grotesque elements. Bringing things symbolizing life and death into a striking harmony, Jawed prepares the groundwork for delineating the hostility and threat of violence that circumscribes the lives of women and animals in the domestic sphere.
A Dangerous and Risk-Laden Place: The Kitchen
At the core of the novel lies the idea that all things used in the kitchen have concealed within them the ability to turn into a weapon. The protagonist conceives the kitchen as a battleground, implying the possibilities of both triumph and defeat in the acts of creation and consumption. The novel seems to borrow from the Biblical story of Adam and Eve as it builds on the idea of delicacies transmuting into portents of failures, death and disease. The cup of tea enjoyed with a loved relative leads to days of fever and anguish as the narrator realizes that the milk used in making it was spoiled by a lizard. Similarly, the food cooked by one family member compels others to take medicine for indigestion after eating it. Using such instances, Jawed conveys that the food cooked in the kitchen has the potential to nourish as well as poison. By proposing the Kitchen as the locus of the house and indicating the presence of "double faced entities", Jawed seems to provide a commentary on the duality of human existence, wherein the things that support life can coincidentally destroy it as well.
While the kitchen is portrayed as a phantasmagorical space that creates endless possibilities, Jawed does not overlook its complicity in deteriorating the quality of life led by women in the household. In his description of the female members of the family, he observes the violence of domestic roles and their destructive effects. Women in the novel have no freedom to dictate their lives and unquestionably submit to the decisions of the dominating patriarchs. They spend most of their time in the kitchen, with their eyes turning watery because of the smoke and their faces resembling the sooty kitchen walls. As a result of the exhaustive and repetitive cycle of preparing three square meals, their skin becomes insensitive to hard labour.
In an article on domestic work, Marienne Dalla Costa says, "the woman becomes productive inasmuch as the complete denial of her personal autonomy forces her to sublimate her frustration in a series of continuous needs that are always centred in the home". Through a string of striking sentences, Javed depicts how women channel their repressed creative and sexual energy into their domestic work that manifests through their loud and aggressive engagement with the pots and pans in the kitchen. The onerous and backbreaking nature of their work comes to determine their relationship with their husbands as well. Interestingly, through the noticeable absence of men in the kitchen, Jawed’s book succeeds in depicting their indifference to domestic labour and attitude that relegates women to mere objects condemned to preparing meals everyday.
The novel defines the kitchen as a constructed text of humans that contains thousands of hidden meanings. By identifying its significance in occasions of weddings and festivals as well as deaths, the writer locates the essence of the house in the kitchen. In his recognition of hunger as the universal language in the world, the narrator articulates his perception of people and events by noticing the disquiet of their appetites. Throughout the novel, the narrative remains consistent in perpetuating the idea that the essence of man lies in the bowels and all the viciousness and gluttony in his nature is an organic product of his appetite.
While exploring the hostility of the kitchen, the novel also explores it as a space that affirms individuality and sustains friendships. Cooking, like any act of creation, is unique and varies in style from person to person. The roles in the kitchen are executed differently by each family member, resulting in food varying in flavour even when the same recipe is followed. To alleviate the repetitive mundanity of their work, the women in the novel experiment with new recipes, allowing their creativity to find an outlet. As a place that breeds both friendships and rivalries between women, the kitchen is depicted as a transformative space, a metaphorical combat zone that permits innovation, confrontations and sisterhoods.
Co-existence with the Non-Human Other
While explicating the interplay between life and death through the metaphor of hunger, Jawed’s novel depicts that even the animals are victims of their appetites. Small animals like lizards, cockroaches and baby snakes cohabit the family house and make themselves at home by residing in the crevices of its dilapidated structure. Tracing the precarity of their fragile presence in the domestic space, the novel sheds light on crucial themes of indifference, brutality and co-existence. When the narrator compares the lizards and the faces of the women working in the kitchen to the dark sooty walls, he portrays how animals are equally vulnerable to the inimical effects of labour.
The narrator's house gives asylum to various animals, like the parrot who would greet the narrator by his name, the cobra who devoured hens but never bit a human, the rats who successfully avoided mousetraps and squirrels who committed suicides. In the novel, the writer depicts the helplessness and fragility of the existence of animals when a pet squirrel jumps in a hot chulha, after being frightened by the hissing sound of water on blazing wood.
Animals, not used to sounds made in the kitchen, are prone to confusing them for signs of danger and their lives are threatened by modern developments as they do not know how to navigate their way around them safely. Jawed further highlights the painful existence of animals in urban cities using instances where animals die by getting electrocuted by electric poles and wires.
The animals in the novel become witnesses to sins of man and represent the Other whose existence in the public sphere is barely tolerated. The frequency of accidents involving animals in the novel exhibits how inconsiderate and unsuitable man’s world is for animals who although aren’t outrightly denied co-existence, but repeatedly pay the price for living in a space meant for the convenience of man only.
The Violence of Disgust
In his 'Critique of Judgement', Immanuel Kant describes how closely disgust relates with the "lower" senses of smell and taste. Since it is contingent on senses that enter and pervade our body, disgust has an imposing nature that yields an anti-aesthetic effect. As the experience of disgust remains etched in our memory for a longer time, it demands to be remembered. In the novel, through the juxtaposition of dissimilar elements and creation of undesirable combinations, the story progresses in the form of memories that arouse disgust. The writer's decision to bring only the nauseating memories of the narrator to light indicates the persistence of the experience of disgust that overshadows every other sensibility.
The theme of disgust in the novel also portrays the depravity of human life. Using instances where women relish talking about burnt genitals, men wipe their faces clean with chapatis and water of a certain community is polluted by people of different religion, Jawed shows the decadence and lack of morality that characterises modern society. The absence of values and compassion is made apparent as humans themselves are posited as objects of disgust in their desensitisation and indifference to violence.
In his explicit detailing of life sustaining and corrupting elements and their various combinations, Jawed brings to fore the hard truth about life's proximity to death. The brilliance of the book lies in how seamlessly the narrative flows and every phenomenon boils down to the universal language of hunger. Due to its unfiltered descriptions, the book is closer to life and is able to present things that are embarrassing to speak out loud, but constitute the truth of our existence.
January 12, 2023
Memorable plot – the protagonist has premonitions of bad omens when some dish is cooked in his kitchen that he would have preferred not to be cooked that day. An ode to crumbling kitchens, and an even more crumbling community. JCB Prize winner of 2022 – deservedly.
February 20, 2026
I struggled at the start of Paradise of Food. The first two chapters (the “Wind” section) left me confused. I barely understood what was going on. All I vaguely gathered was that whoever was being discussed seemed depressed.
I even showed a few passages to my friend, and he mentioned that Urdu is an incredibly poetic language but also very difficult to translate. A lot of imagery may not transfer cleanly, and sometimes the translator has to exercise personal judgment and poetic skill to convey something that simply doesn’t exist in English the same way. That explanation helped, because at times the metaphors and imagery felt opaque.
Things shifted for me in the section titled “Noise,” where the first-person narrative begins. That immediately made the book more relatable. I still didn’t understand all the imagery, but the voice felt more grounded. The descriptions of food, especially the fateha mutton curry being cooked, were vivid and strangely appealing. At the same time, I was disturbed by the narrator’s confessions, particularly his inappropriate desires. From early on, the author conjures an atmosphere that is dark, dusty, greasy , almost physically gross.
The narrator repeatedly frames the kitchen and food in terms that carry an erotic charge. At first I genuinely didn’t understand how anything here was meant to be erotic. It’s unsettling rather than sensual.
There’s a line early on:
“One should not get obsessed with reasons and causes; rather one should observe the flow of things and wait for further developments. Although I could not stick to this useful principle myself.”
That felt like advice for the reader as much as for the narrator.
Very quickly after that, the book became more interesting to me. Once the narrative began flowing without being constantly obstructed by dense imagery, I found myself fascinated. The narrator is clearly self-aware, full of guilt, and deeply self-loathing. It makes sense that he colors everything with disgust.
In the introduction, it was mentioned that the author’s mild misogyny sometimes surfaces. So far, I wouldn’t call it misogyny as much as realism. The women aren’t particularly empowered, but they are portrayed as constrained by parda and social structures they didn’t create. It feels like an unvarnished depiction rather than commentary.
The “Bade Mamu” chapter, especially the descriptions of illness and frailty in old age, was deeply disturbing. That’s where the tone of disgust becomes strongest. The decaying body mirrors the decaying house, and eventually the decaying joint family itself. The imagery of sickness — worms, bodily fluids, deterioration — is relentless and effective.
Past page 190, something clicked for me. The book began to grow on me. Some of the passages are genuinely beautiful in a terrifying way. The narrator’s dreams, his philosophical spirals, and the way disgust blossoms through imagery all begin to feel cohesive rather than excessive.
At times, though, it becomes overwhelming. There are sections of legal and philosophical rumination that felt tedious, almost like word salad. And there are moments depicting extreme violence that require a serious trigger warning. Those sections are not easy to read.
The broader political and communal backdrop is woven into the narrative in a way that feels believable and grim. The portrayal of orthodoxy, communal tension, and radicalization is bleak. The novel presents a truly dark vision of politics and ideology, especially in how belief systems can distort families and futures.
One thing I genuinely appreciate is how transparently the book exposes the worst impulses within a community without turning into a blanket condemnation of an entire religion. It shows extremism and hypocrisy, but it doesn’t feel like a simplistic attack.
That said, the experience was uneven for me. I skimmed the last portion because the prose became too dense and unenjoyable to push through carefully.
Overall, this is a disturbing, atmospheric, ambitious novel. It is gross and poetic at the same time. It took effort to get into, and even once I did, it remained challenging. But I can’t deny that it left a strong impression.
I even showed a few passages to my friend, and he mentioned that Urdu is an incredibly poetic language but also very difficult to translate. A lot of imagery may not transfer cleanly, and sometimes the translator has to exercise personal judgment and poetic skill to convey something that simply doesn’t exist in English the same way. That explanation helped, because at times the metaphors and imagery felt opaque.
Things shifted for me in the section titled “Noise,” where the first-person narrative begins. That immediately made the book more relatable. I still didn’t understand all the imagery, but the voice felt more grounded. The descriptions of food, especially the fateha mutton curry being cooked, were vivid and strangely appealing. At the same time, I was disturbed by the narrator’s confessions, particularly his inappropriate desires. From early on, the author conjures an atmosphere that is dark, dusty, greasy , almost physically gross.
The narrator repeatedly frames the kitchen and food in terms that carry an erotic charge. At first I genuinely didn’t understand how anything here was meant to be erotic. It’s unsettling rather than sensual.
There’s a line early on:
“One should not get obsessed with reasons and causes; rather one should observe the flow of things and wait for further developments. Although I could not stick to this useful principle myself.”
That felt like advice for the reader as much as for the narrator.
Very quickly after that, the book became more interesting to me. Once the narrative began flowing without being constantly obstructed by dense imagery, I found myself fascinated. The narrator is clearly self-aware, full of guilt, and deeply self-loathing. It makes sense that he colors everything with disgust.
In the introduction, it was mentioned that the author’s mild misogyny sometimes surfaces. So far, I wouldn’t call it misogyny as much as realism. The women aren’t particularly empowered, but they are portrayed as constrained by parda and social structures they didn’t create. It feels like an unvarnished depiction rather than commentary.
The “Bade Mamu” chapter, especially the descriptions of illness and frailty in old age, was deeply disturbing. That’s where the tone of disgust becomes strongest. The decaying body mirrors the decaying house, and eventually the decaying joint family itself. The imagery of sickness — worms, bodily fluids, deterioration — is relentless and effective.
Past page 190, something clicked for me. The book began to grow on me. Some of the passages are genuinely beautiful in a terrifying way. The narrator’s dreams, his philosophical spirals, and the way disgust blossoms through imagery all begin to feel cohesive rather than excessive.
At times, though, it becomes overwhelming. There are sections of legal and philosophical rumination that felt tedious, almost like word salad. And there are moments depicting extreme violence that require a serious trigger warning. Those sections are not easy to read.
The broader political and communal backdrop is woven into the narrative in a way that feels believable and grim. The portrayal of orthodoxy, communal tension, and radicalization is bleak. The novel presents a truly dark vision of politics and ideology, especially in how belief systems can distort families and futures.
One thing I genuinely appreciate is how transparently the book exposes the worst impulses within a community without turning into a blanket condemnation of an entire religion. It shows extremism and hypocrisy, but it doesn’t feel like a simplistic attack.
That said, the experience was uneven for me. I skimmed the last portion because the prose became too dense and unenjoyable to push through carefully.
Overall, this is a disturbing, atmospheric, ambitious novel. It is gross and poetic at the same time. It took effort to get into, and even once I did, it remained challenging. But I can’t deny that it left a strong impression.
June 1, 2023
I wanted to like this book, I really did. It breaks my heart to give it such a low rating.
“Paradise of Food” is a first-person narration of the life of Hafeezuddin Babar aka Guddu Miyan, from growing up as an orphan in an extended joint poor Muslim family to becoming a lawyer to getting old while being unhappily married to a wife with two sons who do not respect him. This journey is marked by two major themes, a sixth sense that warns him of ill omens and two crimes he committed as a child. The entire narrative is woven around the kitchen and food, and their aspects both good — smell and taste — and the bad — filth, digestion, and waste. Most of the book is the narrator philosophising on human nature and its connection to food, on coming to terms with his sins and their punishment, and on forgetting his family as he moves on in life. While there are peeks of the changing culture of Islam in India, critique of religious fundamentalism, and observations on the tussle of socialist and capitalistic values of the society, these are hardly central to the story. The book is the story of one and only person.
It is here where the book fell short of my expectations. It felt like one long rant. The “plot” or the few main threads of the story were sprinkled as if short stories in a philosophy textbook. The long monologues were great at the beginning, but soon became repetitive, dry, and at times completely senseless.
It would be remiss not to mention that the book was beautifully written; in that, it is a piece of craft unparalleled. One can discern poetry in prose. I can only imagine the beauty of reading this in the original language Urdu, which goes to say a lot about the amazing feat of translation. The descriptions throughout the book are vivid, grotesque, and graphic, but scarily real. Jawed, in his writing, and Farooqi, in his translation, have managed to express the disgust of revolting filth as if it were the beauty of a rose garden in full bloom.
It was because of this class-apart writing that I was able to finish the book. If the craft of writing is what you seek, this book is probably one of the best books I have ever read. But for me, this was not enough. The book did not deliver on the promise of its description and its content was as far as it can be from the phrase “Paradise of Food”. Maybe someday, when I have more literary appreciation, I might come back to this and appreciate it for it is, but for now, it will be chalked up as a disappointment.
“Paradise of Food” is a first-person narration of the life of Hafeezuddin Babar aka Guddu Miyan, from growing up as an orphan in an extended joint poor Muslim family to becoming a lawyer to getting old while being unhappily married to a wife with two sons who do not respect him. This journey is marked by two major themes, a sixth sense that warns him of ill omens and two crimes he committed as a child. The entire narrative is woven around the kitchen and food, and their aspects both good — smell and taste — and the bad — filth, digestion, and waste. Most of the book is the narrator philosophising on human nature and its connection to food, on coming to terms with his sins and their punishment, and on forgetting his family as he moves on in life. While there are peeks of the changing culture of Islam in India, critique of religious fundamentalism, and observations on the tussle of socialist and capitalistic values of the society, these are hardly central to the story. The book is the story of one and only person.
It is here where the book fell short of my expectations. It felt like one long rant. The “plot” or the few main threads of the story were sprinkled as if short stories in a philosophy textbook. The long monologues were great at the beginning, but soon became repetitive, dry, and at times completely senseless.
It would be remiss not to mention that the book was beautifully written; in that, it is a piece of craft unparalleled. One can discern poetry in prose. I can only imagine the beauty of reading this in the original language Urdu, which goes to say a lot about the amazing feat of translation. The descriptions throughout the book are vivid, grotesque, and graphic, but scarily real. Jawed, in his writing, and Farooqi, in his translation, have managed to express the disgust of revolting filth as if it were the beauty of a rose garden in full bloom.
It was because of this class-apart writing that I was able to finish the book. If the craft of writing is what you seek, this book is probably one of the best books I have ever read. But for me, this was not enough. The book did not deliver on the promise of its description and its content was as far as it can be from the phrase “Paradise of Food”. Maybe someday, when I have more literary appreciation, I might come back to this and appreciate it for it is, but for now, it will be chalked up as a disappointment.
November 1, 2022
Some passages are great, but overall I did not like the book. Seems like a rant. But since this has been shortlisted for JCB and no one seems to be talking bad about it, it must be my own lack of understanding and literary appreciation.
The Paradise of Food by Khaled Jawed
Translated from Urdu by Baran Farooqi
Now shortlisted for JCB 2022, this book piqued my interest as soon as I learnt of its longlisting- after all it was a translation from Urdu and had 'food' in its title. A cursory search informed me that it was about a joint Indian Muslim family-- so, yeah!!
Unfortunately, the book did not live up to my expectations. The story is about a man, Hafeezuddin Babar, who has a special power of predicting mishaps based on the precise forebodings he gets while some specific food items are cooked. Besides this relation to food, the author also blends in many similarities between kitchen, food, the act of eating, digesting etc with many other activities and emotions. To begin with it seems fantastic, but after a point it starts feeling like a stretch. To add another layer to this weird thing happening with food is Babar's internal turmoil and guilt at committing some major crimes in his life. Babar constantly draws parallels between food/kitchen, his crime, the human state- and just a lot of jazz!
The premise could have been great but to me it seemed like a long rant- so much so that I was forced to jump many pages, and towards the end I simply could not carry on. The author is himself a philosophy prof (I think) and it shows coz he touches on some great points, however, overall the book seems to be a wannabe Crime and Punishment mixed with bits and pieces of other elements. The food and kitchen references also seemed forced beyond a point. Now, the book is JCB shortlisted and NO ONE else seems to have any trouble understanding this book, so probably it is my own literary incompetence. But, well... this is my review and I did not like this book. Even though it has some fabulous sentence and ideas in some places, the overall package is not my cup of tea. At 403 pages (I left ~25 pages at the end) it definitely put me in a reading slump.
Quote:"Justice, by the way, for any state is the rule it imposes upon its subjects, which means that justice is always in favour of those who are in power..."
#khalidjawed
#theparadiseoffood #jcbshortlist2022 #bookstagrammer #instabooks #fiction #booksbooksbooks
The Paradise of Food by Khaled Jawed
Translated from Urdu by Baran Farooqi
Now shortlisted for JCB 2022, this book piqued my interest as soon as I learnt of its longlisting- after all it was a translation from Urdu and had 'food' in its title. A cursory search informed me that it was about a joint Indian Muslim family-- so, yeah!!
Unfortunately, the book did not live up to my expectations. The story is about a man, Hafeezuddin Babar, who has a special power of predicting mishaps based on the precise forebodings he gets while some specific food items are cooked. Besides this relation to food, the author also blends in many similarities between kitchen, food, the act of eating, digesting etc with many other activities and emotions. To begin with it seems fantastic, but after a point it starts feeling like a stretch. To add another layer to this weird thing happening with food is Babar's internal turmoil and guilt at committing some major crimes in his life. Babar constantly draws parallels between food/kitchen, his crime, the human state- and just a lot of jazz!
The premise could have been great but to me it seemed like a long rant- so much so that I was forced to jump many pages, and towards the end I simply could not carry on. The author is himself a philosophy prof (I think) and it shows coz he touches on some great points, however, overall the book seems to be a wannabe Crime and Punishment mixed with bits and pieces of other elements. The food and kitchen references also seemed forced beyond a point. Now, the book is JCB shortlisted and NO ONE else seems to have any trouble understanding this book, so probably it is my own literary incompetence. But, well... this is my review and I did not like this book. Even though it has some fabulous sentence and ideas in some places, the overall package is not my cup of tea. At 403 pages (I left ~25 pages at the end) it definitely put me in a reading slump.
Quote:"Justice, by the way, for any state is the rule it imposes upon its subjects, which means that justice is always in favour of those who are in power..."
#khalidjawed
#theparadiseoffood #jcbshortlist2022 #bookstagrammer #instabooks #fiction #booksbooksbooks
December 5, 2023
“…Such superficial and shallow readers had never existed before. One had to place everything before them on a platter. They had become habituated to even chocolate being offered to them without a wrapper… readers seemed hell-bent on getting art to remove its clothes to resemble the nude bodies of women they were used to seeing in TV serials and fashion shows. They didn’t like ambiguity in art. They were readers of sensational news items in cheap newspapers”.
So expounds the narrator of The Paradise of Food, a novel in which I confess to having frequently found myself lost in wrappers of ambiguity. Certainly I would not accuse Khalid Jawed of serving his work on a platter!
In the novel, originally written in Urdu, Hafeezuddin Babar alias Guddu Miyan, recounts his life from being an orphan in the home of an extended Muslim family, to becoming a senile old man, and beyond. The kitchen (“the most dangerous part of a house”) plays a central part in the book, along with all that is associated with it: utensils, food, intestines. Guddu even has a sixth sense that warns him when the wrong dish is being cooked, and some type of disaster is about to happen.
It is a brilliantly evocative novel, beautifully written (and translated, by @baran_farooqi), with a dark sense of humour covering many topics through some fascinating characters and situations. It feels like a mighty work of literature, but I found parts of it very difficult to fathom out and was ultimately left with a sense that I had not understood, hence appreciated, much of it. I am trying to decide if that is ultimately so important. I’m love works of contemporary art without worrying whether I fully understanding them. Should books be necessarily different? I’d love to know what other readers think.
So expounds the narrator of The Paradise of Food, a novel in which I confess to having frequently found myself lost in wrappers of ambiguity. Certainly I would not accuse Khalid Jawed of serving his work on a platter!
In the novel, originally written in Urdu, Hafeezuddin Babar alias Guddu Miyan, recounts his life from being an orphan in the home of an extended Muslim family, to becoming a senile old man, and beyond. The kitchen (“the most dangerous part of a house”) plays a central part in the book, along with all that is associated with it: utensils, food, intestines. Guddu even has a sixth sense that warns him when the wrong dish is being cooked, and some type of disaster is about to happen.
It is a brilliantly evocative novel, beautifully written (and translated, by @baran_farooqi), with a dark sense of humour covering many topics through some fascinating characters and situations. It feels like a mighty work of literature, but I found parts of it very difficult to fathom out and was ultimately left with a sense that I had not understood, hence appreciated, much of it. I am trying to decide if that is ultimately so important. I’m love works of contemporary art without worrying whether I fully understanding them. Should books be necessarily different? I’d love to know what other readers think.
March 17, 2023
حفیظ الدین بابر المعروف گڈو میاں کی کہانی۔۔۔گڈو میاں ہی کی زبانی ۔۔۔ ایک دور دراز کے نسبتاً کم معروف علاقے کا گڈو میاں ۔۔۔ ایک بھرے پرے خاندان کا فرد۔۔جہاں کا ہر فرد اپنے آپ میں الگ ہی نمونہ۔۔الگ ہی کردار۔۔۔جہاں ایک کن کٹا خرگوش اور سنبل نامی ایک طوطا اس کے ہمراز کا دوست کہہ لیں۔۔۔
۔
اب بچپن ہا چھٹپن میں ہونے والے ایک واقعے کی وجہ سے گڈو میں کے اندر ایک عجیب سی خوبی یا خامی کہہ لیں پیدا ہو جاتی ہے۔ اس خوبی/خامی کا گہرا تعلق باورچی خانے میں بننے والی خوراک کی بو سے ہے
۔
۔
اب کیا بتائیں ناں کہ گڈو میں کہ کہانی۔۔۔۔ ایویں ٹرن پہ ٹرن لیئے جاتی۔۔۔دلچسپ ہوتی جاتی جیسے کنڈل سے کچہ ملی خیل کا روڈ لیوے ہے۔۔۔ خالد جاوید صاحب اپنا مخصوص انداز بیاں بھی ہاتھ سے جانے ناہیں دیتے۔۔۔ بعض بعض جگہوں پہ کراہت محسوس ہوگی تو بعض جگہوں پہ کچھ اجیب بھی پھیلنگ آوے گی۔۔پر کا ہے ناں ببوا۔۔۔پڑھت آپ روک نہ پاویں گے۔۔ناول ختم کروا چھوڑے گا آپ سے۔۔۔ اب ریویو دیکھنا ہیں تو انٹرنیٹ بھرا پڑا۔۔۔یہ ہماری پھیلنگز ہیں جو ہم نے آپ کو بتلائی ہیں۔۔۔ ہمیں لمبے عرصے بعد کچھ ہٹ کے الگ سا مزے کا پڑھنے لائق ملا۔۔ہمیں مزا آیا۔۔۔ باقی آپ سب دیکھ لیں۔۔ورنہ سانو کی۔۔۔
۔
اب بچپن ہا چھٹپن میں ہونے والے ایک واقعے کی وجہ سے گڈو میں کے اندر ایک عجیب سی خوبی یا خامی کہہ لیں پیدا ہو جاتی ہے۔ اس خوبی/خامی کا گہرا تعلق باورچی خانے میں بننے والی خوراک کی بو سے ہے
۔
۔
اب کیا بتائیں ناں کہ گڈو میں کہ کہانی۔۔۔۔ ایویں ٹرن پہ ٹرن لیئے جاتی۔۔۔دلچسپ ہوتی جاتی جیسے کنڈل سے کچہ ملی خیل کا روڈ لیوے ہے۔۔۔ خالد جاوید صاحب اپنا مخصوص انداز بیاں بھی ہاتھ سے جانے ناہیں دیتے۔۔۔ بعض بعض جگہوں پہ کراہت محسوس ہوگی تو بعض جگہوں پہ کچھ اجیب بھی پھیلنگ آوے گی۔۔پر کا ہے ناں ببوا۔۔۔پڑھت آپ روک نہ پاویں گے۔۔ناول ختم کروا چھوڑے گا آپ سے۔۔۔ اب ریویو دیکھنا ہیں تو انٹرنیٹ بھرا پڑا۔۔۔یہ ہماری پھیلنگز ہیں جو ہم نے آپ کو بتلائی ہیں۔۔۔ ہمیں لمبے عرصے بعد کچھ ہٹ کے الگ سا مزے کا پڑھنے لائق ملا۔۔ہمیں مزا آیا۔۔۔ باقی آپ سب دیکھ لیں۔۔ورنہ سانو کی۔۔۔
January 4, 2023
This is the most perfect way of describing this book. Unfortunately, Farooqui Sahab was not here to read the translated version but I am so glad this book is translated.
The author’s candor is remarkable, through this story he presented the dark, radical, gloomy, and bleak side of the mundane life of middle-class Muslims today. In doing so he sets a gloomy plot where he narrates the story of a boy from childhood to adulthood and how he is trying to find his place initially in his big-joint family and later in life.
Filled with metaphors and intense depth this book is not a piece of cake. The philosophy in the last 30-40 pages even pulled me back to reality, but not before pulling me into the deep abyss of darkness and unfathomable incidents. Though the story is extraordinary, I can’t deny how brilliantly it has been translated. The author is not here to tell you about all the positive and romantic sides of life, but rather he brings out the filth of life in a way that doesn’t feel gross at all, but significant.
The author’s candor is remarkable, through this story he presented the dark, radical, gloomy, and bleak side of the mundane life of middle-class Muslims today. In doing so he sets a gloomy plot where he narrates the story of a boy from childhood to adulthood and how he is trying to find his place initially in his big-joint family and later in life.
Filled with metaphors and intense depth this book is not a piece of cake. The philosophy in the last 30-40 pages even pulled me back to reality, but not before pulling me into the deep abyss of darkness and unfathomable incidents. Though the story is extraordinary, I can’t deny how brilliantly it has been translated. The author is not here to tell you about all the positive and romantic sides of life, but rather he brings out the filth of life in a way that doesn’t feel gross at all, but significant.
February 23, 2023
I would have loved to give the book 4 ⭐️ if only it was a tad bit shorter. The book has its highs and lows. While Khalid Jawed brilliantly portrays the inner recesses of the mind of a Muslim man, comparing almost everything with food, aroma and how it works in the body of a human being- somewhere the metaphorical nature of writing gets too much to handle. Especially towards the end as we see the man transition into the other world. I really liked the middle section of the book that draws the narrator’s adolescence and adult life but soon after it gets awry. I am not doubting the talent of the translator here- Baraan Farooqui. But I think some portions could have been shortened. This is my opinion though! All in all, a good book to perhaps read human nature from the eyes of food and its aroma.
October 12, 2024
"An amazing amazing book "
What happens when you get the power to predict something ominous just through the scent of something cooking in your kitchen. Seems great but like all supernatural powers this is also a cursed one which slowly our protagonist realises.I,for one loved the language of the book specially through the first half.The inspirations that the author got from Fyodor and Kafka are obvious yet he has managed to imbibe some originality in the work.The last chapter was not to my liking because it was too abstract for me.The first half was amazing the second one barely readable.
I will rate it a solid 3.25/5
What happens when you get the power to predict something ominous just through the scent of something cooking in your kitchen. Seems great but like all supernatural powers this is also a cursed one which slowly our protagonist realises.I,for one loved the language of the book specially through the first half.The inspirations that the author got from Fyodor and Kafka are obvious yet he has managed to imbibe some originality in the work.The last chapter was not to my liking because it was too abstract for me.The first half was amazing the second one barely readable.
I will rate it a solid 3.25/5
January 30, 2023
This was a 2.5 read for me.
Thoughts coming shortly
Thoughts coming shortly
August 4, 2023
Disappointing. Flashes of disgust with no greatness in between. A long rant.
اردو ناولوں کی حالت حقیقت میں خستہ ہے۔ اگر ایسے ناول بڑے ناول سمجھے جا رہے ہیں تو پھر اللہ ہی مالک ہے۔
اردو ناولوں کی حالت حقیقت میں خستہ ہے۔ اگر ایسے ناول بڑے ناول سمجھے جا رہے ہیں تو پھر اللہ ہی مالک ہے۔
November 9, 2024
Beautiful prose. Sweeping story from boyhood, adulthood, to death. Utterly plotless. Unputdownable nonetheless.
December 30, 2024
The first two hundred pages were terrific. The last 100, not so much. I just waited for the book to end
September 3, 2025
A prime example of bad writing. Young writers should shelve this book as a guide on "how not to write in the 21st century."
Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews