Safarnama

About a year and a half ago, someone recommended that I read Dozakhnama by Ravishankar Bal. Read Dozakhnama, they said. It's a conversation between dead Manto and dead Ghalib, they said. I bought myself a copy, but I was dismayed on seeing that the poetry of Ghalib interspersed in the novel was printed in Urdu... Continue Reading →

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