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When I was a boy I loved fairy tales. Bachon ki Dunya, Bachon ka Bagh, Jugnoo, Aankh Macholi, Ambar Naag Marya. A. Hameed. Amir Hamza, Amar Ayyar, Tarzan series published by Ferozesons, and, of course, Alif Laila Wa Lail. +
As a boy, I once borrowed 2 books from the Alif Laila Book Bus that used to stand in Main Market Lahore. I, knowingly, kept them, which is akin to stealing, isn't it? I might have been nine or ten. Sometimes in my twenties I went back to look for that bus and didn't find it. +
I took a few hundred rupees and gave them to a panhandler on the street, thinking, This takes care of *that* then.
But it doesn't, really, you know. +
But it doesn't, really, you know. +
Instead you float onward, always looking back at the sun of your theft and its guilt glowing in the sky, hoping it will set one day. The hurts you caused, the pain you carry, the punches, the lies, the darkness that thickens nightly and never peaceably. +
You hope for sleep in that quietude, but sleep doesn't come.
So ... you turn it inside out. You burst from your cocoon like a short-lived moth and madly flutter about, trying on the world like a pair of wings. +
So ... you turn it inside out. You burst from your cocoon like a short-lived moth and madly flutter about, trying on the world like a pair of wings. +
You write and you recede and in your receding into the past you find odd memories. A rich treasure chest of them that you pluck gems from and turn them in your hands, mesmerized by the glitter.
Your turning them so turns em into stories. And suddenly you're a storyteller. +
Your turning them so turns em into stories. And suddenly you're a storyteller. +
I once read an Arabian Nights story about Maruf Mochi who flees Cairo, aided by a jinn, and finds himself Sulaiman's ring that helps him become the master of a land and buy the hand of the king's daughter.
When I read the unabridged version as an adult, I discovered misogyny in that I found quite disagreeable.
So .... I decided to write Maruf's wife's story. The story of "Fatima the Dung" as the tale calls her. And this week that story became a finalist for the Locus Award +
So .... I decided to write Maruf's wife's story. The story of "Fatima the Dung" as the tale calls her. And this week that story became a finalist for the Locus Award +
I share the ballot with some really cool people. You can find the full list at the link here: https://www.tor.com/2021/05/03/2021-locus-award-finalists-science-fiction-fantasy/?fbclid=IwAR0Umch7Lov1Wyq03PVZIm7oMvHhmfkDyzlk8yJ3gWtzrrgV8l_8fseT4WE
And you can read the story here if you wish: https://www.tor.com/2020/10/21/city-of-red-midnight-a-hikayat-usman-t-malik/?fbclid=IwAR3Klw4gt9fisMdCb8Yvz_utZJ2tYxOOHRGWwiZsgzGcCpYV_5Cnxz4e76Y
