{"product_id":"the-house-of-bilqis-isbn-9780143116578","title":"The House of Bilqis","description":"\u003cb\u003e A haunting novel about a mother and son and the emotional consequences of leaving home \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The matriarch Bilqis Khan, a widowed university professor, is dismayed when her only son Samad marries Kate, a white Australian woman, and settles in Melbourne rather than returning home to Pakistan. Though Samad attempts to convince his mother to join them in Australia, she insists on remaining in Karachi, presiding over the family's crumbling estate, even while tensions in the government are mounting, making the country progressively more dangerous. Meanwhile, Bilqis's devoted servant Mumtaz enters a relationship with a freedom fighter, risking her and her family's honor, and Bilqis realizes that it is up to her to intervene. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The intertwining stories of Bilqis, Samad, and Mumtaz offer a powerful and nuanced portrait of Pakistan in the modern era. Azhar Abidi's precise and elegant prose illuminates the struggle between a mother and son to reconcile their love for one another with their love for the places they call home.Azhar Abidi was born in Pakistan and lives in Melbourne, Australia. His work has been published in \u003cb\u003eThe Guardian Weekly\u003c\/b\u003e, the Australian literary journal \u003cb\u003eMeanjin\u003c\/b\u003e, and in \u003cb\u003eThe Best Australian Essays 2004\u003c\/b\u003e.\u003cp\u003eTable of Contents\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTitle Page\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eCopyright Page\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDedication\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEpigraph\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePART 1\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 1\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 2\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 3\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 4\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 5\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 6\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 7\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePART 2\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 8\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 9\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 10\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 11\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 12\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 13\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 14\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 15\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 16\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 17\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 18\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 19\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 20\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 21\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePART 3\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 22\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eChapter 23\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eVIKING \u003cbr\u003ePublished by the Penguin Group \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 \u003cbr\u003e(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia \u003cbr\u003e(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand \u003cbr\u003e(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePenguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003eCopyright © Micromegas Pty. Ltd., 2008\u003cp\u003eAll rights reserved\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLIBRARY of congress CATALOGING In PUBLICATION DATA \u003cbr\u003eAbidi, Azhar. \u003cbr\u003eThe House of Bilqis \/ Azhar Abidi. \u003cbr\u003ep. cm.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eeISBN : 978-1-101-01173-7\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e1. Mothers and sons—Fiction. 2. Culture conflict—Pakistan—Fiction. 3. Domestic fiction. I. Title. \u003cbr\u003ePR9619.4.A25H68 2009 \u003cbr\u003e823’.92-dc22 2008029021\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWithout limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFOR KAREN\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eListen to this reed how it complains: it is telling a tale of separations\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e—Jalal al-Din Rumi  \u003ci\u003e“The Song of the Reed”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePART 1\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e1\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDINNER WAS served at eight o’clock.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBilqis Ara Begum, matriarch of the Khan family, cast a contented look around the table. Her brother and sister, her niece, her son and his new wife were all sitting there, waiting for her to say the benediction, the Bismillah: “Praise be to Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful.” She said it in a whisper, a furtive, almost bashful gesture of faith, and the family fell silent, concentrating on their meal. Bilqis had ordered her servants to cook a bhujia with spinach and potatoes, a kofta dish, kebabs, a chicken curry and another bhujia with okra. The kebabs were laid out on a white china platter in the center of the table. The rest of the food was served in beaten brass bowls to keep it warm.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Khan family had gathered for the wedding reception of Bilqis’s son, Samad, who had recently married an Australian girl of European descent. The wedding itself had taken place in Melbourne, but the couple had flown to Karachi to give Samad’s family in Pakistan a chance to meet the bride. Mahbano, Bilqis’s sister, and her husband and daughter had flown in from Lahore and Bilqis’s brother, Sikander, who had rooms at the Sind Club, had  driven over in his old white Mercedes. It was March 1985, and spring was nearly at an end. The reception was in two days’ time.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBilqis presided over the table with a sovereign but kindly air. She watched the guests as they ate, and coaxed and cajoled them if they resisted. The last rays of the sun, streaming in through the window, emphasized her Mughal features—the small mouth and chin of her aristocratic mother, and the high cheekbones, hooked nose and long, arched eyebrows of her father. She was a tall and elegant woman in her late sixties. She wore a white shalwar kameez, her hair was gray, swept back and held by pins. She had stopped dyeing it when her husband passed away. Her skin was fair and slightly freckled. The backs of her hands showed a web of veins. Her wrists were small, delicately fashioned, and her fingers long like those of an artist or a pianist. The way she held up her head, her straight back, her gestures, the way her stern face broke into a smile—all these expressions, at once light and graceful, and quite without affectation, hid successive generations of breeding. They were not so much acquired as inherited, and as much a part of her fiber as flesh and bone. But if they revealed the origins of her patrician forebears, they also concealed a conservative streak, a moral pride that the turbulent times had transformed into an inflexibility of manner, a disdain for change and a nostalgia for lost glory.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe enormous chandelier hanging over the table gave her dining room an imposing and rarefied air, but its light was dim and the old Empire furniture in the adjacent drawing room was already lost in the shadows, mute witness to the hunting scenes on an immense Persian carpet, where tigers and deer had come to life and were fleeing the arrows of a handsome archer, who galloped serenely on horseback across a meadow strewn with flowers. A narrow glass table was cluttered with family photographs in silver frames, which occasionally included a famous face, here a politician, there an author, all gone now, scattered to the winds. The shadows also  camouflaged signs of decay. The once-springy carpet was balding in patches and there was dust inside the mahogany-and-glass cabinet that held captive a Dutch flower girl, missing her porcelain arm from when some servant, lost in a daydream, had let her slip out of her hands.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBilqis turned to Zainab, her niece. Mahbano’s daughter was a cheerful young woman with sparkling eyes. She wore a black shalwar kameez of her own design, the lines of her dress long and flowing. The subdued colors drew out her fair skin, the thin waist highlighted her tall, slim figure. “You must eat, my dear,” Bilqis said in an affectionate tone reserved for indulging children. “Don’t misunderstand me, but you look a little anemic. What are you afraid of? I oversaw the cooking myself. Not that one should eat to excess, but you barely touched anything. What, do you mean to refuse me?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eZainab relented but Bilqis gave the recalcitrant a final glance, a rejoinder and an acquittal. A fine girl, she was thinking, as she ladled out the chicken curry on her plate. Why had her son not married her? Such marriages strengthened families and kept them together. Their children would have been beautiful, the match perfect, mending bridges and settling scores. It was just one more of her dashed hopes, misplaced and improbable. Marrying cousins was no longer in fashion, Bilqis reflected. People would frown upon it. A first cousin was like a sister to Samad. The relation was too close, too familiar. And besides, it was too late.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Penguin Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300367323365,"sku":"NP9780143116578","price":22.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780143116578.jpg?v=1767739840","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-house-of-bilqis-isbn-9780143116578","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}