Timeri N Murari?s vast oeuvre of creative writing is characterised by so little reiteration, that the rhythmic swells of his literary echo will, at once, enliven and freshen your thoughts. Like a master sculptor, he has chiselled numerous works of fiction and non-fiction with much panache and poignancy. Since his first novel, The Marriage, which he wrote while working as a journalist for The Guardian in London, Tim has written 17 books, which traverse through various themes of history, mysticism, religion, crime and social drama and also the fragility of human relationships. From historical novels like Taj (it has been translated in 19 languages) to a book exploring the feelings of young blacks growing up in the slums of Liverpool, The New Savages, he has also written various stage plays and movies. His newest novel, The Taliban Cricket Club, turns an eye towards tyranny, the devastating effects it brings along and how people subtly rebel against it. And, strangely, one of the most potent weapons in the novel happens to be cricket, a metaphor for all the things that the Taliban has attempted to undermine and thwart. It is also a spirited story about a defiant and courageous female journalist, Rukshana, who instead of being crushed under the oppressive regime, decides to fight back through the gentleman?s game. Murari talks with Diana Ningthoujam about his tumultuous journey to war-torn Afghanistan, the resilient and brave people of the country and the brutal rule of the Taliban. Excerpts:

What drew you to explore and connect the game of cricket with the varied themes of feminism, quest for freedom and the tyrannical rule of the Taliban?

It came about because of the sheer serial announcements made by the Taliban that they were going to introduce cricket into Afghanistan. Back in 2000, I read an article about the decision, it was like a magician pulling out, not a rabbit, but a cricket bat from a hat, and I couldn?t figure out why they were doing it. Of course, men would have to wear the perfect costume for the Talib to encourage them to play the game.

However, the fact that a tyranny like the Taliban would introduce cricket, which is a game of, certainly, non-violence, of very democratic institutions, and a gentleman?s game, you can?t help but notice the conflict between the two. It intrigued me then; therefore, I pursued the idea.

Women under the Taliban were so oppressed. I wanted someone to express the problems of being a woman under the rule, to subtly rebel against this oppressive regime. And, Rukshana rebelled against it through cricket, by coaching her brother and cousins.

In your travels to Afghanistan to research this book, were there times when you were afraid for your own well being and safety?

Well, one is cautious. When I was checking in to get on the flight from Delhi, there was an Afghan gentleman behind me. He told me he owns a hotel, so I asked him if I could stay there. Nonchalantly, he replied, ?No, you can?t, it was bombed two months ago.? From there I got the feeling that I was going to a place where I have to be cautious.

Even checking into a hotel in Kabul is a very complicated process; you have to get past gunmen apart from everything else. While I was there, the first thing I learnt is that you should have a very good driver. Mine bailed me out of many tight spots. Once, I was taking photographs, not of anything special, and two policemen began waving guns at me. It was a rather nerve racking experience. Fortunately, my driver came to the rescue, yet again.

I was always very aware of the tension in the city. The people are enormously friendly and hospitable, but there is also fragility in their lives. In another way it is like a fairytale; they know they are living on a volcano and that it can explode anytime.

What surprised me greatly were the women in Afghanistan. I always thought that men had it easier, but according to them since men have to grow their beards and are beaten if they do not pray five times a day, they lead much tougher lives. Women felt sorry for them and I thought, ?I hope the men felt the same way for them.?

After your visit, were there any ways in which the book turned out differently then you had initially planned?

When you are writing, it always changes. I certainly did four or five drafts of the novel. There were changes I had to make before and after my visit because certain things would not work. And sometimes the book got too dark because of what is happening there and I had to pull back a bit because I did not want it to be a depressing book. The whole secret of writing is always re-writing and I did a lot of it.

When I was in Afghanistan for a week, I met a lot of young men and women; bits and pieces of the novel are taken from them. For instance, when I was at the Kabul immigration, I saw an effervescent young woman, jockeying away right across the hall. She was so cheerful; she made people around her smile and laugh. I took certain physical characteristics of her. At that time I had already formed the internal of Rukhsana, I was looking for an external to give her a face and physical presence. I drew on this young woman and thought she could be my Rukhsana. I met another man who told me how he and his hundred cousins lived in Kabul during the Taliban period and survived it. There was also this other man who stopped watching football at the Ghazi stadium as it proved too painful; it reminded him of the people who were executed there. I drew on what they told me and their stories.

Your protagonist is a female journalist who has been persecuted throughout the novel. How difficult was it to delve into the psyche of one so torn, yet so full of defiance and courage?

Once I found her voice I felt more confident in writing about her. Sometimes the characters take over and you just let them run. The writer becomes a conduit, depending on how the book is moving. In one way it is hard to use a woman?s voice, but at the same time it was worth the risk. The other day a woman came up to me and asked me how did I manage to have such a convincing voice. It is something that I managed to get work and sometimes it is very hard for writers to say how it works. Maybe I have a split personality (laughs).

However, the most difficult part of writing the novel was not Rukshana, but cricket. I have played a lot of cricket in my life, played in England when I was working at The Guardian, at good club level. So I knew enough about the game. I realised that cricket is a game that a lot of people don?t understand. When my wife Maureen read the first draft and even though she?s Australian and understands cricket, she said ?I do not understand half of what you?ve written. What?s silly point, silly mid on, long on?? So I simplified it. And I had to simplify it even more for the American readers. ?

When Afghanistan formed the cricket board in 2001, they were 90th in the world, but by 2010 they?d made it to the World Twenty20. Now, cricket has established itself as a popular sport there. Do you think that the nation?s interest in cricket will play a part in building a common national identity and healing Afghanistan?s internal wounds?

Surprisingly, when Afghanistan made it to the World Twenty20, the Taliban, instead of sending out their usual hostile messages, congratulated the team. There is hope, but at the same time, though cricket is taking a hold in Afghanistan, it is still an urban sport compared to India where every village plays the game. So whether it will heal the wounds, you are putting too much responsibility on cricket, or any sport for that matter, because the conflict between the Taliban and the Northern Alliance, between the Sunnis and the Shias, is still alive.

Sadly, Afghanistan has never been a sporting nation. Their biggest sport is the Buzkashi, played on horses, with a headless goat carcass. And football is another major sport. But I think it needs more than a sport to be able to pull a nation together.

Cricket has a very democratising influence. If you look at the nations playing cricket, most of them are democratic countries. Football, dictatorships and democracies play but cricket is mostly played by democracies. I am not putting too much burden on cricket, but it does make people understand how to work together. Football is over in 90 minutes but cricket will take all day to come to know each other ? you don?t find this in any other sport. It would be wonderful to think cricket would have this influence. And I wish it did. Afghanistan needs something desperately to keep it together.

Excerpt

In its four-year-old rule the Talib had done nothing to rebuild or replace what they helped destroy. The city, as fragile as any human, was gaunt with sickness; its blackened ribs jutting out at odd angles, craters of sores pitted its skin, and girders lay twisted like broken bones in the streets. Its gangerous breath smelled of explosives, smoke, and despair. Even mosques were not spared the savagery, their skulls explosively opened to the sky. The Kabul River was a trickle of water pulsing through a muddy artery clogged with garbage. Across the river, the pale blue dome of the Timur Shah tomb was, somehow unscathed. The tomb seemed obscene in its beauty, rising above the broken mud-brick homes and shops that had once crowded around it for protection. Rising out of those humble ruins were lines of carts selling vegetables, fruits, meat and clothes. People clotted around them, as emaciated as the city, emerging out of the rubble to purchase a potato, a peach, a chicken leg, a sliver of meat, a bowl of rice, some dry naan.

Extract from Timeri N Murari?s The Taliban Cricket Club, published by The Aleph Book Company, May 2012

The Taliban Cricket Club

Timeri N. Murari

Aleph Book Company

Rs. 595

Pp 325