me, 'How strange! Whenever some story reaches near its climax a blood-spattered character suddenly appears at the door/ When I finally recovered my senses again I found myself stumbling down the main street. I was totally out of breath and had to stop and lean against a lamppost to rest. After that day, I never met him again. I don't even have a desire to see him now. But, again and again, one question keeps surfacing in my mind: This autobiography, is it his or is it mine?" Translated by CM. Nairn. Annual of Urdu Studies, #7 65