“Set in the decades before the rise of the Taliban, Jamil Ahmad’s stunning debut takes us to the essence of human life in the forbidden areas where the borders of Pakistan, Iran and Afghanistan meet. Today the tribal areas are often spoken about as a remote region; a hotbed of conspiracies, drone attacks and conflict.

In the Wandering Falcon, this highly traditional, honour-bound culture is revealed from the inside for the first time.”
The introductory note prepares the reader for an incredible journey which is a discovery of sorts about the tribal areas of Pakistan, a region that has remained elusive and unsolicited to the outside world. And those who make an exception for an exploratory interest, are usually greeted with the words: “Tread at your own peril.” The reputation notwithstanding, the curiosity in the place and its people refuses to wane.
As we turn the pages of the Wandering Falcon, it is evident Jamil Ahmad’s book gradually lifts the curtain and provides a glimpse of a discreet world that is currently coping with unwarranted attention.
His protagonist is a boy named Tor Baz (Black Falcon) whose birth, childhood and adult life reflect the cultural ethos of the land he inhabits. While the tome, begins and culminates with the events surrounding the boy’s life, yet the author avoids creating a story exclusively around him. “Tor Baz serves as a link to the accumulated stories. He wanders between tribes, meets men who fight under different flags, and women who risk everything if they break their society’s code of honour. And I must mention, my book does not cover the entire tribal canvas but only a part of it,” says the septuagenarian.
He also refrains from elevating the protagonist on a pedestal and validates it with an explanation. “Torbaz is an archetypal human being. He is struggling for survival in a strong current of life and surfaces to the crest of the flow only occasionally. This is what most of us do. A perpetually dominant hero, to me, is the stuff of myths or comic books,” he makes it clear. The writer’s deep insight into the subject stems from the fact that he has served as a member of the Civil Service of Pakistan and during his long spanning career, he was posted mainly in the North West Frontier Province and Baluchistan. “My personal experience definitely gave the narration an edge. Besides that, I shared cordial relations with some of the senior tribesmen who form the base of the book, their narratives and access to a few personal diaries helped a lot.” Infact, they all play a catalyst in weaving a fictional tale that has a touch of authenticity written all over it. Interestingly, the focus of the book is not on the present times, rather it travels a few decades back, as he points out, “It is but natural that I set the stories in the period well before the convulsion that erupted in those areas. It mirrors the time I was posted there. By the beginning of 1980’s I was, more or less, only a distant observer.”
Turning to writing at 78 is not without a reason. He says, ”The manuscript was crafted more than three decades ago, while I was still serving in the tribal areas. It lay comatose for many, many years until last year, when a serious of events resuscitated it and propelled it towards publication. This is a work of fiction. If there is a message at all, it is only in the subconscious level.” It is well known that most of the trouble in Pakistan is fermenting from these tribal areas or it is perceived in this way. So does the aloofness comes from a lack of mutual trust and a sense of alienation between the government and the tribesman? To that Jamil replies, “Tribes were in harmony with the passage of time and were adjusting to the changing world. It is the Afghan war in 1979/1980, that and alien attempts at social engineering converted the slow and placid movement towards a change into a state of anarchy. The Afghan War was indeed a Tsunami for the region.”
In the course of the conversation, it also comes to be known that Jamil was born in the Indian city of Jallandhar and spent his formative years in Punjab and Delhi. He recalls, “My first school was in Ambala and I remember spending vacations at my uncle’s house in Ludhiana and Gurgaon. I also have vivid memories of the outbreak of orld War II while I was studying in Delhi’s St. Columba’s school. I left India in the wake of partition and have not returned since then.”
On asked if a sequel is on the cards, he sets aside the query with a smile, “I have given no thought to writing a second book, it would be an awesome task for an eighty year old.”