A Lazy afternoon and “A Case of Exploding Mangoes” by Mohammed Hanif
By: Luna Rushdi
Tags: Zia Ul Haq, Pakistan, Mohammed Hanif, Exploding Mangoes, Novel

This is a bit of a blast from the past. I jotted down some random thoughts and spur of the moment feelings while reading this book back in 2010. I used to live in Wellington (New Zealand) all by myself and remember it was a day before Christmas. There was a Borders book store on Lambton Quay and I would spend hours in the Café upstairs going through books, looking out the window and take in the general familiar happy vibe…

There were Christmas decorations on shop windows and the roads. Cheerful people roaming around, I was perhaps feeling a bit lonely…I don’t remember anymore. What I do remember is that I was totally hooked on this book and ended up buying my own copy.

Today I am in Melbourne, it is a hot and humid day. I worked from home in the upstairs study, now finished work for the day, I can hear my mother moving about in the kitchen downstairs, busy with dinner preparations, my sister came upstairs to bring me some nicely diced cool papaya. I hear the whirring sound of the stand fan next to me. Through the window, the dimming afternoon sun is highlighting chosen bits of tree tops…picket fences. Life feels tranquil here…somehow similar to that afternoon back in 2010…even though it is different in so many ways. Thought these random note is worth saving.

Lambton Quay in Christmas time (photo taken from internet)

It is the day before Christmas today and work finished early. Not accustomed to such freedom, I could think of nothing to do and nowhere to go. So I ended up at Borders. Sipping coffee with a book in hand and staring into space certainly has an authorly air to it, doesn’t it?

I was reading ‘A case of exploding mangoes’ by Mohammed Hanif. This is his debut novel. I picked it up because Mohsin Hamid (I like his work) thinks the book is ‘unputdownable and darkly hilarious’. The book is tagged as a ‘political thriller’ and is about the plane crash during 1988 that killed General Zia-ul Haq.

General Zia-ul Haq

Borders was full of people and I could hear fragments of conversations floating around, mixed with the sound of cups and dishes and spoons, children’s voices. I was taking notes on my journal. There was light just behind me so I could see the shadow of my own hand as I wrote, which made things difficult.

I vaguely remember Zia-ul Haq, he used to be on the news often. I remember once, Imran Khan decided to retire from playing cricket after turning 35, Zia-ul-Haq requested him to continue playing. This was broadcasted on Bangladesh TV and I was watching with my father. We thought it was an awesome thing to be requested by the president himself to keep doing what you do. Imran Khan looked polite, proud and handsome. Zia-ul-Haq always looked like an adoring uncle to me, with his butterfly moustache, big smile and white teeth…

It’s kind of weird to read about history that happened in my lifetime. The plane crash was all over the news and everyone around me was convinced that the Indians did it. However, that was all adult contemplation and I was still a child. I only remember vague comments in passing. The incident probably surprised me; maybe I was even shocked to see a prominent face on television suddenly disappear. Or perhaps by that time I got used to it — there was of course the precedence of Bangladeshi President Ziaur Rahman and Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi before this incident took place.

Back to the book, the descriptions are magnetic and anecdotes are so true that they are extremely funny. For example, anyone familiar with the politics of the Indian subcontinent knows about the cover ups to cover cover ups.

The prologue starts from the moment General Zia-ul-Haq, accompanied by Arnold Raphael (US ambassador to Pakistan) and General Akhtar are about to board the aircraft. The story is told in first person by the narrator Junior under officer Ali Shigri, who claims to be the one that got away along with history.

It was the time between the end of one war and beginning of another and ‘history was taking a siesta’. Soviet soldiers were preparing to leave Afghanistan while General Zia was preparing for peace and ‘being the cautious men they are, they have come to Bahawalpur to shop for tanks while waiting for the end of the cold war’.

The book begins where it ends and we are taken back in time to experience the details that led to the event. Twenty pages into the book, I was hooked and ended up $NZ31.99 poorer. Back to my reading now, it’s been a long time since I’ve paid attention!