Book: The Sensational Life & Death of Qandeel Baloch
Author: Sanam Maher
Publisher: Aleph Book Company
Pages: 272;
Price: Rs 213
If you want a qandeel for Diwali any shopkeeper in the state is happy to help you with a selection. But what Qandeel Baloch wanted was to be a light unto herself in the conservative Islamic state of Pakistan. In what way, you ask…or maybe you won’t as you have already seen enough of her unfiltered photo-driven social media posts that got her all the attention she wanted and then some.
While aiming to become Pakistan answer to Kim Kardashian, this wannabe star also carefully crafted a too-voluptuous-to-be-true public image that unendingly raised the heckles of the self-appointed law keepers of that nation and that saw her in the eye of the storm with unerring regularity. It was as if what she did in the make-believe space drew danger to her in the real world until, just as the book describes right at the beginning, her younger brother murdered her on July 16, 2016 ‘in the name of honour’ as her father declared later in the FIR. And, for me, t he most redeeming part of the story, despite mass societal and legal support of the murder, her parents demanded Waseem be punished and ended up changing the law regarding honour killing in Pakistan.
Author Sanam Maher’s approach is to dissect the phenomenon that became Qandeel from an almost illiterate lower middle class Fouzia Azeem to an abused wife to giving a ridiculous audition for a spot on Pakistan Idol to breaking the internet with her “How I’m looking?” video to her tragic murder, an incident waiting to happen. Her constant need for attention pushed her to make ridiculous bids such as the offer to strip if the cricket team won the T20I match against India. Maher uses Qandeel’s snuffed life to comment about every nitty-griity that led to the reality and tragedy of this identity.
It is worth commending that Maher has meticulously researched her subject and taken the time to engage with various people related to Qandeel (such as her ex-husband, the reporter who broke the news of her death and, of course, the cleric Mufti Qavi after meeting whom Qandeel spiraled fast to her end) that brings an interesting Rashomon effect, making for an atypical but difficult read.
Nadia Akbar, the Pakistani author of Goodbye Freddie Mercury had mentioned in an interview that “Even being a woman and speaking in Pakistan is politics.” Having gone way beyond just speaking, Qandeel had, unintentionally, made some very strong political statements, and had to be ‘punished’ for it. Maher, the journalist that she is, brings that impartial, objective reporting manner in this book that makes it strangely humane and dignified instead of mocking. And therein wins hands down as she deals with massive issues like desire, poverty, seeking attention and getting it, violence and honour, as if they were prices of grains.
