Suffocation is an English translation of a unique Urdu novel, Habs, by the celebrated fiction writer Hasan Manzar. This novel not only stands as a remarkable achievement in the history of Pakistani Urdu literature due to its innovative techniques and distinctive language, but also highlights the burning issue of Palestine in its historical as well as contemporary perspective.

Translation, particularly literary translation, is extremely difficult, and this is truer of poetry than it is of prose. The fundamental problem is that languages don`t just do things differently; they see things differently. Language is a process of categorisation, not only of vocabulary but also of grammar not only of nouns and adjectives, but also of verbs and their tenses, and these can be done in any manner of ways.

Asma Mansoor, an emerging writer, skilled translator and adept English literature and language teacher, has admirably translated this masterpiece into an engaging and approachable language, offering readers a delightful glimpse into the realm of creative writing.

We all recognise a fundamental human desire: the longing to live and experience more. This desire isn`t just about living longer, but about inhabiting different lives, exploring different perspectives and experiencing the world in a multitude of ways. Literature, while imperfect, offers a powerful remedy for this yearning.

Through stories, we can vicariously live other lives, explore different cultures, and experience emotions and situations which we might never encounter in our own reality. Translation takes this power of literature a step further. Translation allows us to access lives that are even more different, more remote, and even more foreign to our own. It acts as a bridge, connecting us to cultures and experiences that would otherwise remain inaccessible.

Thus the profound impact of translation is that it `bridges the abyss` that separates us from these distant lives. This imagery powerfully conveys the sense of connection and understanding that translation can foster, even across vast cultural and linguistic divides.

García Márquez might not have written what he wrote had he not discovered Kafka`s The Metamorphosis, or Virginia Woolf`s Orlando, that strange annunciation of magic realism, or Faulkner and Hemingway and Albert Camus: all books and authors he read in translation. The same can be said in the opposite direction. You see that translation enriches our comprehension of life.

When I asked Hasan Manzar his views on Asma Mansoor`s translation he said: `The translation has won the appreciation of those who know the difference between a translation of literary merit and one for official correspondence. I have admired her work and feel I could not have made any improvement on it before publication.

The novel is a fictional account of the last eight years of the former Israeli prime minister Ariel Sharon`s life, as he lies in a vegetative state at the Chaim Sheba Medical Centre. Although the `Sleeping Giant` as he was known is confined to his bed, he continues to open his eyes and is propped up daily to `watch` television.

Interspersed with this narrative are scenarios from the vasthistory of the Jews, and how anti-Semitism led to notable instances of persecution, such as the Rhineland massacres in 1096, expulsion from England in 1290, the Spanish massacre in 1391 and expulsion from Spain in 1492, various anti-Jewish pogroms in the Russian Empire between 1821 and 1906 and the Nazi Holocaust in Germany.

The novel is a journey across multiple temporalities and spaces, all mingling in diverse combinations in Sharon`s mind.

Not only does it delve into recent history and Sharon`s memories of a childhood that drew him into violent politics, it also arches back into the Biblical and Quranic history of the Israelites, so that, at times, the novel operates like an epic, presenting an entire saga of oppression in a cosmic sweep, as it alsozooms in on the current predicament of the Palestinian people. So vividly etched are the scenes and so immersive is their effect that the boundaries between the real and fictional are dissolved.

It`s truly a testament to the translator`s skill when they can capture the essence of a passage so effectively that it evokes the same powerful emotions in both languages. It`s a reminder that good translation is not just about conveying the words, but also the feelings, atmosphere and impact of the original text.

One particular paragraph in the Urdu novel Habs gave me goosebumps and brought the same effect when I read it in the English translated version. The paragraph was: `Killing someone or destroying a settlement is such an act [that] can indubitably bring, like instant coffee, the sense of success, as if one has fulfilled a duty. Then that scene, along with all the visible details, noise and the emotions of the dying, fades away in some nether level of the brain. Then, ages later, when we have time and we summon it like a guest, it manifests itself again in all its glory and awe a blast, collapsing walls, flying concrete and heavy slabs of iron, hands, feet, heads and incomplete shrieks.

`And after all this, the groaning and wailing of the injured because, no matter how big an explosion you cause, some nevertheless manage to survive. After all, some, as a matter of fact many, did survive to bemoan Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In this sense, it was neither a complete victory for America, nor was it a complete atrocity. That which is not a complete atrocity, should not be called an atrocity.

Asma Mansoor, as a good translator, understands all the intents and purposes; like a good impersonator, she can do all the voices. She also recognises all the shortcuts, all the snares, all the cheap tricks, and this, for a translated writer, is an invaluable incentive.

This has a corollary: good translations make the translator disappear; bad ones make them visible. Maybe there is some truth in the cliché, and good translators might be invisible in the work.

The novel covers the dreadful sufferings of the Palestinians since civil war broke out in 1947, when the General Assembly of the United Nations adopted a resolution recommending the partition plan for Palestine. While this move was not initiated by native Palestinians or even Jews, it did turn them against each other.

For me, the voices that plague Sharon are not just manifestations of the guilt. They are articulations of the collective guilt of humanity that haunts a world and a time that is perennially out of joint. Like the ghost of Hamlet`s father, Habs, in Derridean fashion, asks of humanity `Whither?` for it looks into the possibility of justice for victims of cruelties past, present and future. Such is the inheritance of the Palestinians.

With its evocative prose and heartfelt story, Habs stands as a testament to the power of literature in shedding light on the complexities of history, politics, society and faith, fostering empathy, understanding and dialogue. Manzar`s novel is a lesson in history as well as one in human nature.

At the end, it is a realisation that everything ultimately comes to naught: Sharon departs from this world and, despite his grandiose delusions, his obituary in the newspapers provided by his son, Gilad reads: `He has gone. He went when he decided to go.

The publication of the English translation of this remarkable novel has become a beacon for contemporary and future generations of writers interested in exploring new ways of expression in literature, experimenting with diction, language and plot in the field of novel writing.

The reviewer writes short fiction in Urdu and is currently working on her first novel