REQUIEM FOR A DREAM

The Equator Line (TEL), a themed, quarterly magazine of non-conformist writing blazed a brilliant trail of its own before shutting down

- Bhaskar Roy

THE slice of sky I could see through the branches of the robust silk-cotton tree outside my cabin was being crisscrossed by relentless fighter jets that foggy February morning. The day before, Indian bombers pounded the Balakot terror-training camps to retaliate the Pulwama killings. Looking at the quaint shopping courtyard below, I wondered which payloads the fierce aircraft were carrying—Indian or Pakistani? From my office in the rundown urban village of Shahpur Jat—though technically very posh-sounding Panchsheel Park—I looked at the working-class people on their daily drudge. Do they care less about bombs from the sky?

The next TEL number was a collection of short stories by women writers from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. The Pakistani narratives were truly an eye-opener. They were about body shaming, obnoxious patriarchal assertion, infidelity, workplace sexual exploitation, and sinister disappearance of men from a particular Islamic sect. Eminent Urdu writer Sheba Taraz’s story is a pointer to a significant dimension of Pakistani society. Flavouring her tale with Latin magic realism, she tells you about an outspoken woman who loathes sparing anyone. Being the source of discord in a milieu where menfolk are normatively listened to, her sharp tongue, when she chops it off, grows into a sprightly speaking tree!

TEL, as The Equator Line was commonly known, was a themed, quarterly magazine of non-conformist writing. ‘‘This is like