Written by: Muhammad Asif Nawaz
Posted on: March 26, 2025 | 
| 中文
The author, Taha Kehar and book cover of 'No Funeral for Nazia'
Writer Nazia Sami, in her death note, wishes for a party instead of a funeral. The call for a party, with the five invitees already listed by the deceased, duly surprises everyone. The addition of a surprise guest to the invite list leads to further confusion. But like the proverbial show, the party has to go on, all set to jolt its audience. Such is the pretext of Taha Kehar’s novel No Funeral for Nazia. And so, starts the story, with the protagonist being dead from the word go, yet very alive in the author’s narrative as well as the memories of her guests. This is Taha Kehar’s third novel. He is also the author of Of Rift and Rivalry and Typically Tanya.
No Funeral for Nazia is a smooth, at times thoroughly engaging read. There are elements of suspense interspersed with good, old drama. The takeaway of the novel, however, is the psychological somersaults the novel does through its characters. The concept of death and the potential space to maneuver around it, shunning the conventions, being at the fore. The individual stories of the characters, all the same yet so disconnected from the others’, lay bare the cognitive dissonance as well as the subjective bias of people. It’s also very interestingly put to paper how everyone perceives only themselves to be the central character of any story.
All the people who are on the guest list of Nazia’s party being executed by her sister Naureen: Asfand, Dolly, Parveen, Farid, Saleem and Salman, bring their own ingredients to the already boiling cauldron of unravelling. Albeit connected to each other via bonds that range from flimsy to obsessive, all these characters are centrally related to Nazia. The party is supposed to be a carnival of remembrance, designed for the invitees to proceed towards their own closures with the departed.
The novel is a quick read, suited for one long sitting (which is a positive if you ask me). Set over the period of a single night with flashbacks and recollections thrown all around, the readability of the book is enhanced by its tight pace and Kehar’s quirky writing. I particularly liked the dialogue in a book that is quite dialogue-centric; something which a lot of Pakistani fiction in English doesn’t always get right. The novel is set in Karachi, and the author duly dabs the story with a strong backdrop of Karachi’s troubled political landscape, for there clearly is no getting away from that in a Karachi-set work. The book is very contemporary in its tone, not the least because one character has a Sunny Leone track as one of her favorite songs. The book ventures to explore quite a lot of themes: betrayal, grief, insecurity, friendships and forgiveness.
For a novel that aspires to pull off quite a lot in a limited number of pages, there are certain things that do not lend themselves that easily to credibility. The mechanics of hypnotization may border on fantasy for the uninitiated in an otherwise very real book. There are some of the usual trappings of Pakistani fiction written in English: the alcoholic damsel in distress, the slightly misunderstood Casanova, at least one bratty child, the village girl with big city dreams; but Taha’s writing makes all of it palatable. Sometimes it is over-the-top, but that perhaps is exactly how he intended it to be.
The peculiar thing about this novel is that none of the characters that Taha sketches is truly likeable. They are all flawed, and with their brazen sense of entitlement, an almost comic paradigm of decision making, and banter that is obtusely childish, at times infuriating. There are no exceptions in Kehar’s world; he duly extends this disdain to the titular Nazia as well; and this, interestingly, is one of the strengths of the book. The characters are all very, fundamentally human; take them as they are. As you progress on with the book, it becomes evident that this party for Nazia is in fact an opportunity for her guests to meet their own selves so to say. Mourning the death of Nazia somewhat sends all the characters into their own whirlpool of discovery and acceptance. Even if the results in some cases are too rapid to be true, they nonetheless lead you to somehow give them more benefit of doubt than you otherwise would. It isn’t only the replacement of a funeral; this party is a portal.
In all, Taha Kehar’s No Funeral for Nazia is an exciting book that delivers what is promises. It offers the profound in the mundane, and aids to one’s understanding of the human psyche. Even if one finds the book to inadvertently sway a little along the way, the topic as well as its treatment make the book worth reading. Save it for your next flight or a dreary Saturday evening.
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