It is fitting that peacocks should figure in the book's title for in Intizar Husain's world birds are wiser than humans. Here, the short stories of this eminent Urdu author are beautifully framed by Alok Bhalla's thoughtful introduction and a fascinating interview with Husain.

For Husain, the happiest days of his life were those of his childhood in Dibai, a village in Uttar Pradesh, which is the setting for his famous novel, Basti, and for a few stories in this collection. Dibai's composite culture, where he lived among Hindus, continues to influence him. The experience of Partition, when he made a casual decision to go to Lahore and found that he could not come back to India, was devastating.

A CHRONICLE OF THE PEACOCKS: STORIES OF PARTITION, EXILE AND LOST MEMORIES By Intizar Husain Tr by Alok Bhalla and Vishwamitter Adil Oxford Price: Rs 395, Pages: 257

Paradoxically, it was in Pakistan that he studied the ancient storytelling tradition of India. In college, he had learnt the western tradition of separate linear stories and in Urdu he had read The Thousand and One Nights, but only later did he read the Indian epics, Jataka stories and the Panchatantra where one story emerged from another, reflecting a philosophy of life where the things of this world are all inter-related. Husain's aim has been to combine all these story telling styles to create a new fictional form in Urdu.

Husain's study has deepened his awareness of being part of an all-encompassing pluralist civilisation, including Mirabai, Kabir, Tulsi Das and Baba Farid. He has even described himself as a Muslim who feels there is a Hindu within him. So it's natural to find him tackling the issue of nuclear arms by writing of Ashwatthama, cursed by Krishna to wander with pus-filled wounds for 3,000 years after releasing his Brahmastra at Kurukshetra. He creates a tota-mynah story, demolishing man's claims to be God's noblest creation. Bhikshus retell Jataka stories emphasising the good and Manu ties his boat to the whiskers of the fish incarnation of Vishnu.

But because Husain draws on the ancient does not mean his stories are not modern. His characters' blank incomprehension in the face of wisdom reflects the confusion in our world. If he still writes of Partition, it is because he is trying to see if he can find meaning in the deaths of so many people, and because he believes that the struggle of the exile is the most unique and difficult one of our times.

The exiles he writes about are often the Mohajirs of Pakistan. A story describes the fear in a Mohajir home in Karachi when a son fails to make it home before curfew. Only the boy's brother is more worried about a cricket match against India which Pakistan wins. Husain poses the question of what Pakistan has really won when an old member of the family remarks, "Pakistan ... is lost."

Despite the despair, there is hope. For Husain, remembering the pluralistic culture of India is, as Bhalla puts it, "to rediscover a habit of thought and a mode of living that may provide us with ideas ... that is sufficient to resist the drummed up enthusiasm of the crowd and its blasphemous assumption that its slogans are the words of God."

AUTHORSPEAK: PALLAVI GUPTAA

Life's Like That

Pallavi Guptaa likes to question society-twist and turn what's tried and tested. Which is why her book, When Porridge Overflows and Other Vignettes (Vakils, Feffer & Simons), is a reflection of life the way she sees it and the way she is. Uncoloured. Fresh. Spooned with dollops of the feel-good factor. The 33-year-old laughs as she talks about how bookshop owners tossed her book between self-improvement and non-fiction. "They have placed it next to the Chicken Soup for the Soul series because they are both insightful accounts which make people think. A lot of people even say it could be in the same league." Is that the reason for her similarly titled book? She is honest: "My publisher felt it was catchy." Like many writers, Guptaa put the book together because she felt she had something to write. Especially when she saw her three-year-old column titled "A Slice of Life" in the Free Press Journal come alive on her computer. Guptaa didn't train to be a writer. Having studied French and anchored a travel show, she began writing for a lark when she travelled in Europe. Three years of running around to find a publisher didn't take away that confidence as she chopped and chose pieces that were timeless in appeal. Dedicated to Jerry Lee, her dog who died (there's a chapter on it too),Guptaa's book deals with everything that an Indian encounters on a daily basis-be it a rendezvous with a roadside astrologer, a conversation with a Mumbai cabbie, or even a tale about her two servants. Guptaa's favourite is the one on her conversation with God in the dark. "There is a lot of my internal dialogue and the personal me in it," she says. Holding the first copy was a romantic moment:"I came home, put it on my bookshelf and walked past it a few times. It finally sunk in that my first book had arrived." Now Guptaa is already on to her second book. "Even as I write non-fiction, I feel drawn into doing more of the kind of my first book. Even when I am touring for my book release, life is hitting me from all sides. I am tempted to write, as I feel I have some more stories to tell." Don't even try questioning that.

— Nidhi Taparia Rathi