Rushdie Haunted by his unholy Ghosts — Page 85
Rushdie: Haunted By His Unholy Ghosts 85 Perhaps the most poignant and acrid statement is made in the very next two paragraphs which have an eerie premonition of events and circumstances that were to befall him, keeping in mind that this novel was written in 1983, some five years prior to The Satanic Verses. Notice how each word and sentence was to play a fateful and ominous part and was to turn his life upside-down : ‘By now, if I had been writing a book of this nature, it would have done me no good to protest that I am writing universally, not only about Pakistan. The book would have been banned, dumped in the rubbish bin, burned. All that effort for nothing! Realism can break a writer’s heart. Fortunately, however, I am only telling a sort of modern fairy-tale, so that’s all right; nobody need get upset, or take anything I say too seriously. No drastic action need be taken, either. What a relief!’ (p. 70). As this book had received scant publicity, Rushdie’s views and observations had gone relatively unnoticed. But those that saw the author as a tool who fulfilled all the requirements for their nefarious plans must have been wringing their hands in sheer delight, as they were presented with an opportunity they could not afford to let go. The ominous signs, nevertheless, were already there in Rushdie’s own writings and it would not be too long before he would be using the same arguments to try to find loopholes to escape through, but sadly for him, there would be no reprieve and it would certainly not provide any ‘relief’ for him - in fact, it would be quite the opposite; his very life would be in danger and he would never have guessed that all the arguments he had used in a mocking and foolhardy man- ner would be his very life-line. Rushdie’s arrogance and sense of shame at being associated with ordinary Pakistani Muslims is seen clearly while he writes about the villagers,: ‘O God, Ignoramuses from somewhere. Backward types, village idiots, unsophisticated completely, and I am stuck with them. ’ (p. 74)