Shamm-e-aman [Gandhi Jayanti ke mauqe par ek tasur] - nazm by Ali Jawad Zaidi

Shamm-e-aman
[Gandhi Jayanti ke mauqe par ek tasur]

      - Ali Jawad Zaidi

Khushada haath ke sardi bhare andhere mein
nikaali jisne dil-e-sang se bhi chingaari
Khushada log jinhone ye aag bujhne na di
kisi ne raakh ki chadar se dhaanp kar rakha
kisi ne shola-ba-shola ise farogh diya
kisi ne iski parastish aashti paayi

                                Ye aag jalti rahi, zindagi machalti rahi
                                ragon mein garm raha isse khoon-e-insaani

Ye aag vo hai ke laakhon ke haath jhulsaaye
magar isi ne shab-e-taar ko jamaal diya
khushada zehen ke jisne zara se sholey ko
andhere ghar ke diye ki chamak mein dhaal diya
Diye ki lau se ladi.n tez andhiyaa.n sau baar
Kahin to champayi aanchal hi ban gaya deewar
kahin subuk si hatheli bani haseen hisaar

                                 Kisi ne band kiye rozano.n ke darwaaze

                                 kisi ne oat ki khatir bana liye fanoos

Kahin darogh kahin mahshar-e-nifaaq-o-jidaal
Kahin pe jahal-o-toham, kahin pe istehsaal
Hazaar shaklon mein dekha gaya andheron ko 
hazaar baar andheron ne saazishein ki hain
hazaar baar hui hai shikast-e-faash unhein 

                                 Badha hai le ke diya dast-e-shauq mein koi
                                 na khauf-e-sarsar-o-toofan, na khauf-e-daar-o-saleeb

Ye saamne se guzarta juloos sadiyo.n ka 
Kisi ke sar pe chamakta hai taaj kaanto.n ka
kisi ke dast-e-qavi mein hai zeher ka pyaala 
kisi ke paaye mubarak mein aahani zanjeer
kisi ke halaq pe hai zeher mein bujhi shamsheer 

                                      Har ek baar andhere ko ye gumaan guzra
                                      kisi bhi shamm ki lau ab na thar-tharaaegi
                                      magar har ek jagah intezaam-e-shamm bhi tha
                                      jahaan-jahaan se andheron ka kaarwaa.n guzra

                                      Vo neem barahnagi ka jalaal-e-shahaana
                                      jo zindagi ko jalaata raha diye ki tarah
                                      ke khud jale to jale bazm jagmagaati rahe
                                      gudaaz qalb-o-nazar, shamm bhi tha, tesha bhi tha 
                                      Pighal-pighal gaye kohsaar, gir padi deewar
                                      bhala ye kis mein tha dum kham ke raasta roke? 

Ye ik naheef musafir jafaa ki raaho.n ka 
tamaam umr nabard aazma raha gham se 
koi sawaal liye seena-e-shahadat mein 
kisi jawaab ka taalib hai aaj bhi hum se.

  
***

Word meanings:

Shamm (shama): flame/lamp 
Khushada: liberal or generous
Aashti: peace

Subuk: light-weight

Hisaar: encirclement or fortress

Sarsar: cold and wild winds

Daar o saleeb: gallows

Rozan: vent or gap
Oat: shelter or veil

Fanoos: lampshade or chandelier

Darogh: falsehood

Mahshar: related to ressurection

Nifaaq: saleable or hypocrisy or malice

Jidaal: to make strong, or altercation
Jahal o toham: ignorance and superstition

Istehsaal: to make gains, or exploitation

Qavi: robust

Aahani: iron

Neem barahnagi: half-naked

Gudaaz: molten or soft 

Qalb: heart

Tesha: axe

Kohsaar: mountains

Jafaa: tyranny or unkindness

Kham: twist, bend, or curve 

Naheef: weak 

Nabard: battle

Taalib: seeker, student, or one who asks a question

Kya kisi se kam tha ishq beimaan apna?

Transcribed an old ghazal written by my grandfather, Ali Jawad Zaidi, for those who are into this sort of thing but don't know the Urdu script. 

Kya kisi se kam tha, ishq beimaa.n apna?
Intizaar kyun karti marg e nagahaa.n apna?

Jab Tahu ke deta hai dard e bekaraa.n apna
Gungunaane lagta hai shauq e naghmakhwa.n apna

Jis jagah havaon se shole baat karte hain
Bas vahin kahin par tha gosha e imaa.n apna

Manzilon mein shabkhoon hain, raaston mein rahzan hain
Hum ko phir bhi chalna hai leke kaarwaa.n apna

Uske saare taaqon par rang o buu ki devi hai
Dair e khush-navaayi hai sang e aastaa.n apna

Dost agle waqton ke daude bahr e hamdardi
Kaash main bhi sun sakta shor "Ala maa.n" apna

Sau payaam ulfat ke kaanpte hain hothon par
Ajnabi si galiyon mein kaun hum-zabaa.n apna

Zindagi ki mahroomi tohfa e mohabaat hai
Humne inse paaya hai dard e raigaa.n apna

Daastaa.n faroshi to shaayri nahin Zaidi
Fan kahin na ban jaaye zeb e daastaa.n apna

- Ali Jawad Zaidi (page 37, Naseem-e-dasht-e-aarzu)

Translated poems by Amitabh

I have translated a few more poems by the Hindi poet Amitabh. Some of them are from his first collection, Samastipur aur anya kavitayein. Three of them ('Living is What They’re Thinking About', 'The Metro-dwellers', and 'Story') have been published online in Antonym. Another two ('Sajda Khatun, A Witch? Oh, No' and 'The Life of a Grave') will appear in the print version of the journal. Link to the website here: 

https://www.theantonymmag.com/three-poems-by-amitabh-bachchan/

New poem: The Station Ghazal

I have a new poem out in the Stone Circle Review. 

Read it here:  https://stonecirclereview.com/the-station/

Some poetry videos

 I have been experimenting a bit with poetry videos in recent months. Here's the channel link: 

https://www.youtube.com/@AnnieZaidi-writer/videos

Here's a five part poem to start with. If you're into poetry and things, listen, watch, and share etc: 

Five conversations I can no longer bear to have in person: 1

Five conversations I can no longer bear to have in person: 2

Five conversations I can no longer bear to have in person: 3

Five conversations I can no longer bear to have in person: 4

Five conversations I can no longer bear to have in person: 5

Missing Weather

 This poem appeared in issue 113 of Acumen literary magazine in 2025. 

A video review for The Comeback

 A video review by Sayari for The Comeback on Scroll's video channel: 

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/cqC3o4_sY-A

A new review for The Comeback

Veda Pahurkar writes about The Comeback in the Asian Age:

'What begins as a story of friendship slowly reveals deeper layers of rivalry, regret and the lingering weight of past decisions. Zaidi approaches the narrative with subtlety rather than spectacle. The drama here is not loud or exaggerated; instead, it lies in the emotional spaces between the characters. Through carefully drawn scenes and internal reflections, the novel captures the quiet turbulence that accompanies ambition, the desire to succeed, the fear of being forgotten, and the pride that sometimes blinds people to the consequences of their actions.'

Link: https://www.pressreader.com/india/the-asian-age/20260325/282321096536708?srsltid=AfmBOooKOmqcpULZEatcn_u3CkUHJDQa6Y6OGwZrQ9NfSqtsABVj7eDW

An interview from The Quarantine Tapes

I had forgotten to post this when it first appeared but during the pandemic, in 2021, I did this wide-ranging conversation with Naveen Kishore for The Quarantine Tapes. One of the things we talked about was call-out cutlure and here is a brief extract from the interview:

The thing with calling-out culture is that it does not affect people who are, in any case, not wanting to respond to your critiques. For example, if you critique a patriarchal film, the makers of the patriarchal film are unlikely to be affected because they know why they’ve made it. If you critique a person for their transphobia, for instance, if they are genuinely transphobic, the chances of your critique influencing them in some way are very small. Not that anybody is not influenced or affected by other people, but the chances are small. The people who are most likely to be affected are people who do, in some sense, remain receptive to critics, want to change as much as you do in society.
So I think sometimes the way in which debates and criticism is framed is often quite hostile. And I find that when I frame my critiques, I like to just think a little bit about what is the nature of my critique and what is the other person actually like, or what impression do I have of the other person? Is this person essentially hostile to me?

I think that when we, especially in an anonymous framework, especially on the internet—and because we consume so much internet news, views, opinions—I have begun to feel a little bit like that it does have some kind of freezing impact on authentically open debate and critiques. So that is one part of my fear for sure.

Apart from that, of course, there are all other kinds. If you are in a highly patriarchal environment, as I am—in fact, India is quite a patriarchal country—there are other fears around that, too. I really do have to gather up my courage to say things, because it’s not just about how a fringe group might react. It is actually about how your neighbors will react, how your relatives might react, how your colleagues might react, whether your opinions will make them respect you less. All these things.


You can listen to the whole interview here: 

https://lithub.com/annie-zaidi-on-the-fears-of-writing-inside-a-patriarchal-and-call-out-culture/ 

Essay: Because we live in this world and no other

When was the last time you read a story that well and truly blew your mind?

I suppose, in order to answer that question, you’d have to first consider what it means to have your mind blown? To me, it means coming upon a story that makes me reconsider the very foundations of society, and which challenges my assumptions about what it means to be human.

Because we live in a human body, and because we can see it, smell it, inhabit it and drink of it, we imagine that we know it. We certainly fall into the trap of thinking that we know what human culture is (or what it ought to be) because that’s how we already live, and we’d like to keep it this way. At most, we might need to stretch the frontiers of what we can achieve, how far we can travel, and the limitations of our bodies. That’s the kind of science, and also the kind of fantasy, we like to conjure up. But every once in a while, along comes a story that shakes our self-assurance, and forces us to reconsider humanity...

Read the full essay in Outlook magazine: https://www.outlookindia.com/books/because-we-live-in-this-world-and-no-other

Essay: White sheets and white lies

Imagine then, my perplexity when I found myself trudging from hotel to hotel, baggage in tow, and my friend refusing to check in anywhere. The rooms looked fine to me, the hotels reasonably secure. What could be the matter? At the third hotel, my friend finally explained: she refused to stay at any hotel that didn’t have white sheets.

White bed linen. White towels. White robes. Code for luxury. All five-star hotels have them, and most four-star and three-starred hotels too, since they model themselves on the five-starred ones. But oh! The quiet boredom of five-star décor! Over the years, I have also written a few stories for travel magazines, which involved staying at five-star hotels with the implicit understanding between the editors and the hotels (who were also advertisers for the magazines) that the article should subtly nudge the reader towards the joys that were on offer. For a writer like me, this is a hard ask. Part of the problem is that I don’t like to do as I’m told, but even when I am willing, there’s the additional problem of not having much to write about. Every fancy hotel is more or less like another fancy hotel. They celebrate this monotony by putting out advertising jargon that describes the experience of staying at such hotels as ‘home’.

Now, my home is nothing like a fancy hotel. For starters, my sheets aren’t white...

Read the full essay in Frontline: https://frontline.thehindu.com/other/travel/luxury-hotels-white-sheets-class-illusion/article70486103.ece

New year, and a new book review

'Annie Zaidi’s The Comeback is about one man’s journey from self-absorption to consideration for others staged as an ode to theatre as an artform. It asks important questions of popularity, selfishness, stoicism and leadership, about life on social media, and about working in cinema, TV and OTT — all of which represent contemporary India. Also thrown in is a bit of the magic of small towns and possible models for theatre to thrive there.'

             - Akankshya Abismruta in the Hindustan Times

Link: HT review of The Comeback

Surma eyes and how we're taught to see

Extract from a new essay on representation of Muslims (Muslim men in particular) in Hindi movies:

 
In and of itself, the Muslim-as-terrorist trope would be less damaging were it not for a quiet lie surrounding these narratives. The lie is that only Muslims are responsible for terrorism, that Muslim trauma is dangerous only because it leads to radicalisation. In real life, this falsehood is generated by politicians who have a monopoly over the terror discourse: who experiences it, who gets tainted by it, who gets off scot-free?...

In a country like India, complexity of representation is a big ask at the best of times. Most communities have been stereotyped in Hindi movies, including people from Hindi-speaking regions – the paanwala, the gun-toting gangster, the dacoit, the princeling or nawab, the jolly Sikh, and so on. In fact, most communities have not been represented at all. There are over 3,000 castes, more than 700 tribes, and each religion also has distinct sects, each with their own culture. A Bohra Muslim woman, for instances, looks nothing like an Ismaili, and a Kashmiri Muslim is different even from a Ladakhi Muslim. Their problems, like those of any film protagonist, are simultaneously unique and universal, and they deserve to be treated as such, for we cannot separate the invisibilisation of a community from their sociopolitical marginalisation.

Read the full essay in Frontline magazine: 

https://frontline.thehindu.com/arts-and-culture/cinema/bollywood-muslims-terror-tropes-islamophobia-cinema/article70432997.ece

Another review for The Comeback:

'The novel begins on a note of restlessness where the writer deliberately carves a distinct image of John K. and Asghar based on class. It cannot be denied that art, especially in the present time, is heavily tilted towards capitalism and becoming either politically distant or neutral. At the same time, with accessibility, most artists have grown susceptible to policing and fear losing what they possess. In the novel, John K. says something that lands his friend, Asghar in trouble. Zaidi captures the anger of the latter but keeps ‘care’ in the forefront.'

- Kabir Deb in Outlook

Link: Review of The Comeback in Outlook magazine

Jab bhi rukhsat ka samaa yaad aa gaya

Today (Dec 6) is my grandfather's death anniversary. Sharing one of his Urdu ghazals here in Roman script.

Jab bhi rukhsat ka samaa yaad aa gaya

Door take gehra andhera chha gaya

Tez-tar hoti gayi shamm-e-yaqeen

Shola-e-namrood hi bujhta gaya

Usne nazrein pher to li.n bazm mein

Phir bhi maathe par paseena aa gaya

Khud-ba-khud chatki kali ya subah dum

Unke hothon par tabassum aa gaya

Kaun poochhe karobar-e-ishq mein 

Jisne sab kuch kho diya, kya pa gaya

Dars-e-haq dete hain shaikh-o-brahman

Jaise sab unki samajh mein aa gaya

Sunte hain Zaidi javaar-e-daar mein

Ik nishaan-e-raah bhi paaya gaya.

- Ali Jawad Zaidi (page 58, Naseem-e-dasht-e-aarzu)

Vocabulary:

Namrood: Nimrod, the Babylonian king who tried to burn the prophet Abraham

Dars-e-haq: Lessons or lectures on truth

Javaar-e-daar: In the vicinity of the gallows

A prize for short fiction

One of the good things that happened over the last year: my short story, ‘Zinnias in the Graveyard’, won third prize (shared with Brecht De Poortere) at the Hudson Review Short Story competition 2024-25. It took a while but the story has finally been published in the Summer 2025 issue of the Hudson Review. Here's a brief excerpt: 


The last gardener Shafiqa had hired asked for three months’ advance on his pay and disappeared. Just as well. He didn’t do much without supervision, and her every waking minute was consumed by a sick man who could barely chew or swallow without gagging. Mashing his rice and daal, putting fruit and spinach into the blender. A whole hour would pass between bringing a tray to his bed and coaxing a few spoonfuls of goop into his mouth. Scolding him for not sitting up, yanking at his wrist, prodding with increasing degrees of impatience until he uttered a soft oath and allowed her to shovel the spoon into his mouth.

She had scolded him with every spoonful. Eat! Eat! Eat a bit more, for God’s sake! Will you kill me with trying to keep you alive?

She hadn’t been able to keep him, of course. Five months of turning him this side and that side and, yet, bedsores all over his back. Between the feeding, there was the cleaning, the bandaging, the laundry. Wiping the corners of his mouth. Shaving his chin. She barely had time to bathe herself. At the end of the day, she would simply lie prostrate beside him and whisper her prayers, underlining each Arabic phrase with just one thought: Let him stay alive.

He slipped away, complaining about the lack of salt in his porridge. By the time she returned from the kitchen with the salt shaker, he was gone.

He could have asked for a bit of sugar instead, she thought later. He hadn’t tasted sugar in years. She often left out a bowl of temptation, disappearing into the garden for a bit so he could sneak a spoonful. If he asked, she was duty bound to refuse. No, the doctor said, no. Sugar is poison for you. Still, she would leave a bowl of kheer to cool on the dining table. One spoon wouldn’t kill him, but he never touched it. She always knew when her kids stole a few spoons of kheer or halwa. She’d know if the surface of the dessert bowl had been disturbed, no matter that they made clumsy attempts to level it flat again. But her husband?

He had wanted to live. But five months ago, he had begun to murmur in the dark. Enough. Enough. Enough what? she wondered. Pain? Being turned, his sores suppurating, smelling his own shit? He never said anything more than that word, enough...


You can read the fully story here:

https://hudsonreview.com/2025/08/zinnias-in-the-graveyard/

Review of 'Bread, Cement, Cactus: A Memoir of Belonging and Dislocation' in Cha journal

A new-ish review of my book Bread, Cement, Cactus: A Memoir of Belonging and Dislocation in Cha journal:


'The plurality inherent in the experience of belonging necessitates a perspective that moves beyond national constructs. While borders impose physical limitations, the sense of belonging is irreducible to a singular or monolithic national identity. The persistent enmity between India and Pakistan has repeatedly forced individuals to define their sense of home in terms of national affiliation, leading to existential questioning of their identities. National belonging, however, cannot supplant the deeper sense of belonging, which transcends borders and walls. Before asking “Where is home?”, one must first grapple with the preceding question: “Where do I belong?” The search for home, in and of itself, signifies dislocation—a condition that has become increasingly acute in contemporary India.

Each essay in the book addresses distinct issues, problematising various aspects of life in modern India. Zaidi’s narrative traverses timescapes, weaving historical contexts with contemporary realities. Rather than offering a definitive answer to what home means, her memoir questions what it means to live in today’s India, a reality that proves more daunting than the book’s length might suggest. Another commendable aspect of the work is its brevity, a stark contrast to the trend of overly lengthy memoirs that often lose focus. Zaidi avoids falling into unproductive digressions, instead delivering a concentrated exploration of longing and memory.'

- Fathima M in Cha. Read the full review here: https://chajournal.blog/2025/01/12/bread/

Another nazm by Ali Jawad Zaidi

Kufr hai gar na karoon naghma e asnaam ki baat

Yaad aati hai har ik baat pe ilhaam ki baat

Jhanjhana uthte hain sab taar kisi veena ke

Zehen mein goonjti hai guzri hui shaam ki baat

Ye mohabbat hai koi shakl e riyazi to nahin

Tumne aaghaaz mein kya chhed hi anjaam ki baat

Jalwagah, qatlgah, ahl e mohabbat bhi to hai

Jo na jaane vo kare mehar e lab e baam ki baat

Muskuraate hue alfaaz ki tah tak jaao

Mere ashaar mein hai shorish e ayyaam ki baat

Zindagi jalwa e sadrang hai pehle ki tarah

Ik guzarti hui ru hai gham o aalaam ki baat

Poochho Zaidi se ke bas ek vahi hosh mein tha

Subah ke bas mein kahaan hai ke kahe shaam ki baat

- Ali Jawad Zaidi (page 70, Naseem-e-dasht-e-aarzu)

Vocabulary:

Asnaam: Idols, plural of sanam

Ilhaam: Revelation or intuitive inspiration 

Shakl: Face, likeness, condition

Riyazi: Mathematics

Ahl: Able, suitable, or inhabitant

Mehar: Love, mercy or grace

Lab e baam: Corner of the roof; also decadant 

Shorish: Commotion, confusion

Ayyaam: Period, season

Sadrang: Hundreds of colours

Ru: Cause, countenance or surface

Aalaam: Grief, adversity 

Interview in Helter Skelter magazine

From an interview in Helter Skelter magazine:

The first thing that struck me when reading The Comeback is that it feels like it takes place at a distance from where the quote unquote “action” is. I found that such an interesting choice, where we’re hearing about things from a distance, and we’re not on the stage itself. What made you want to set it at that distance? 

That’s interesting you pick up on that. It was not done consciously, but I think one of the reasons I wrote the book at all was that I felt like I was at a distance from everything. I was missing theatre. I wasn’t writing theatre anymore, I wasn’t even watching too much professional theatre. It came out of my own sense of feeling like I was missing out on something and wanting to be at the centre of things, but at the same time, being in a smaller place and recognising that being at the centre of things doesn’t necessarily mean being in a big city. Sometimes you can be in a big city and still have serious F.O.M.O. because all the cool things are happening somewhere else, you know? 

Also, a little bit consciously, I was thinking about our commitments to big cities in the arts. I think it’s unconscious and we can’t always control it, because we go where the money is, and we go where the big industries are. Writers tend to congregate around places where the publishing hub is, [actors] to where the film scene is. But at the same time, I think that we also are then controlled by the big scene. It’s a trade-off, and we trade our own sensibility. The other possibility that is traded in is of actually having control over what you want to do, setting up your own thing in your own social context. So I think it comes a little bit from there, the sense of wanting and not wanting to be in the thick of things.

Link to the full interview: https://helterskelter.in/2025/03/interview-annie-zaidi-the-comeback/

Reviews for The Comeback

'Annie Zaidi’s new novel, The Comeback, is a delightful journey into the heart of Indian theatre, with a focus on small-town India...' 
- Jahnavi Acharekar in Frontline magazine

Link to review: https://frontline.thehindu.com/books/theatre-life-review-the-comeback-annie-zaidi/article69385271.ece


'... economical and absorbing. It contains more than a few touches of broad irony, especially when it comes to the business of art and the way eastern and western dramatic traditions are appropriated by the cognoscenti.'
- Sanjay Sipahimalani in The Hindu

Link to review: https://www.thehindu.com/books/book-review-the-comeback-author-annie-zaidi-theatre-films-friendship-betrayal-drama/article69412332.ece


'Through the story of a somewhat successful actor, Zaidi imagines how corrupting any kind of adulation can be. If being ruthless in the guise of ambition is bad, then being conceited as a natural result of one’s success is even worse.'
- Sayari Debnath in Scroll.in

Link: https://scroll.in/article/1080920/the-comeback-annie-zaidis-short-and-sweet-novel-about-second-chances

'Zaidi gently unfurls several interlocked questions about art, friendship, and the perpetually ugly business of making a living. Is "true" or "honest" art necessarily decoupled from the needs of the marketplace? Is the converse true, then, especially in a vastly inequitable country like India? What does "performance" even mean for someone pathologically incapable of being honest with themselves and their closest friends?... This is an accomplished, compulsively readable short novel that may force you to take a good look at your own dormant friendships.'
- Aditya Mani Jha in the Mint

Link to review: https://www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/art-and-culture/book-review-annie-zaidi-the-comeback-friendship-stagecraft-11740722742207.html


'The book grapples a lot with the worlds of theatre, cinema, and television; and through this, triggers contemplation on an interesting hierarchy that's right in front of us but never paid heed to - that of the politics of where a play should be performed.'
- Garima Sadhwani in the Financial Express

Link to review: https://www.financialexpress.com/life/lifestyle/the-comeback-by-annie-zaidi-review-returning-to-your-roots/3778064/

'At its core, The Comeback is a meditation on lost dreams, fractured relationships, and the possibility of redemption. With a narrative that is both intimate and expansive, Zaidi masterfully captures the emotional turmoil of betrayal, the quiet resilience of those left behind, and the unexpected ways in which life circles back.'

- Anjali Chauhan in the Deccan Herald

Link to review: https://www.deccanherald.com/features/books/meditation-on-broken-bonds-and-lost-dreams-3456598

'The author’s own training in theatre is evident in how the novel is structured. She sketches the backdrop with an enviable economy of words, then allows the characters to take over. The dialogue is crisp, the characters (including the supporting characters) are well-developed, and the plot moves forward at just the right pace.
- Natasha Ramarathnam in Youth ki Awaaz

Link: https://www.youthkiawaaz.com/2025/02/a-story-of-friendship-and-betrayal-set-in-the-theatre-world/ 

'Novelist and playwright Annie Zaidi turns to this trope in her latest, The Comeback, and sets the novel in a milieu that she knows intimately — the world of the theatre. The result is a slim novel that is part parable and part a fairy tale.'

- Shuma Raha in The Asian Age

Link to review: https://www.asianage.com/books/book-review-can-theatre-reunite-offer-redemption-1876623

'What follows, thereafter, is a tale of soured friendships, bruised egos, fluctuating fortunes, starting from scratch, and, of course, drama in every which way. An award-winning dramatist, Zaidi has seen the world of theatre, up-close and up-front, and is clearly partial to it. Her descriptions of rehearsals, the shoe-string budgets, the uncompromising determination to stage quality stuff, make for inspiring reading.

This is a book that many from the world of grease-paint and arc lights will identify with. Others will enjoy a story, well-told.'

- Alpana Chowdhury in The Free Press Journal

Link to review: https://www.freepressjournal.in/lifestyle/book-review-the-comeback-by-annie-zaidi-a-captivating-story-of-ambition-friendship-and-betrayal

'Asghar’s journey, from brokenness to renewal, is rendered with a sensitivity that avoids clichés, making his evolution not just compelling but deeply affecting. His rediscovery of theatre serves as both an artistic and personal revival, showcasing his resilience. The supporting characters—family, friends, and the theatre troupe—enrich the narrative...'

- Namrata in Kitaab

Link to review: https://kitaab.org/2025/03/27/book-review-the-comeback-a-novel-by-annie-zaidi/

'The novel begins on a note of restlessness where the writer deliberately carves a distinct image of John K. and Asghar based on class. It cannot be denied that art, especially in the present time, is heavily tilted towards capitalism and becoming either politically distant or neutral. At the same time, with accessibility, most artists have grown susceptible to policing and fear losing what they possess. In the novel, John K. says something that lands his friend, Asghar in trouble. Zaidi captures the anger of the latter but keeps ‘care’ in the forefront.'

- Kabir Deb in Outlook

Link to review: https://www.outlookindia.com/books/all-the-world-is-a-stage

'The Comeback tells us that relationships can be old and strong, yet, fragile.. It deftly delves into the anxieties of people in the contemporary world and the issues that crop up with fame along with personal egos and social status.'

- Newsbits.in

Link to review: https://newsbits.in/the-comeback-annie-zaidis-novel-on-friendship-and-a-strange-betrayal-charms-the-readers#google_vignette

'Though slim, The Comeback travels a full circle in a consistently engaging story that reads like it could be a lively movie (or a series?). Held up against Zaidi's other books, including the acclaimed Prelude to a Riot and her memoir Bread, Cement, Cactus, The Comeback can seem lightweight, but it is warm and large-hearted.'

- Neha Bhatt in India Today

Link: https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/books-by-annie-zaidi-of-ties-that-bind/ar-AA1GcIIf

'Zaidi approaches the narrative with subtlety rather than spectacle. The drama here is not loud or exaggerated; instead, it lies in the emotional spaces between the characters. Through carefully drawn scenes and internal reflections, the novel captures the quiet turbulence that accompanies ambition, the desire to succeed, the fear of being forgotten, and the pride that sometimes blinds people to the consequences of their actions.'

- Veda Pahurkar in the Asian Age (Mar 25th, 2026):

Link: https://www.pressreader.com/india/the-asian-age/20260325/282321096536708?srsltid=AfmBOooKOmqcpULZEatcn_u3CkUHJDQa6Y6OGwZrQ9NfSqtsABVj7eDW