 Hello and welcome to the British Library South Asia seminar series, which is part of our research and digitization project called Two Centuries of Indian Print. Our talk today is called No Longer Anabab, The Making of a New Hajj Badi Muslim, and we are very delighted to have amongst us, Professor Afsar Muhammad. He teaches in the Department of South Asian Studies at the University of Pennsylvania. His previous work, The Festival of Peeds, popular Islam and shared devotion in South India, published in 2013 from Oxford University Press, has generated a debate about various modes of locally produced living Islam and Hindu Muslim exchanges in South India. He's now working on a new book using various literary and oral historical sources as related to the police action of Hyderabad of 1948. We are also very happy to have amongst us Professor Benjamin Cohen as a chair for this event. Professor Cohen teaches in the Department of History at the University of Utah. He's a scholar of South Asia with a particular interest in the early modern and modern periods of the subcontinent's history. He is the author of Kingship and Colonialism in India's Deccan, published in 2007. In the club, Associational Life in Colonial India, published in 2015, and an appeal to the ladies of Hyderabad scandal in the Raj published in 2019. Now about the format of our session today, Professor Muhammad is going to speak to us for about 40 to 45 minutes, after which there'll be a short discussion between the chair and the speaker, after which I will open it up for audience questions. If during the talk or during the discussion you would like to put in your questions, please use the chat box or the Q&A box to do so, and I will take the questions in order during the Q&A down. So without much further ado, I hand it over to Professor Officer Muhammad to speak to us today about no longer an abab, the making of a new Hyderabadi Muslim. Over to you Professor Muhammad. Thank you so much, Bianca Basu and the British Library team for this opportunity. Thank you so much, Professor Benjamin Cohen, who is always my inspiration as related to Hyderabad work. Thank you all for making this talk and I look forward to your feedback and questions. Basically, this talk is a segment from my chapter, one of the chapters from the forthcoming book, no longer an abab, the making of a new Hyderabadi Muslim. In 2006, during the field research for my previous book, The Festival of Pays, at some point in September I took an early morning bus to Khareem Nagar, an urban town famous for the public rituals of Muharram. More than 100 months away from the city of Hyderabad, this urban town has significant population, Muslim population immensely influenced by the Shia Islamic practices of Hyderabadi. So, in this town, I met 78 year old Abdul Kudo Saheb who at first started talking about the earliest performances of the songs of Muharram around the times of the police action of 1948. After a while, he surprisingly took a detour to talk about the police action and tell how his youthful dreams were shattered due to this extremely violent and traumatic event. Being a young man of around 20 years during this violent event, Kudo Saheb was one of the witnesses of the police action and the consequent devising politics that partitioned Muslims and Hindus. According to Kudo Saheb, it was a nightmare for us as every Muslim in the Hyderabad state had suddenly become an enemy of the people experiencing the height of every form of hatred that could not even step out of the hole. Going up in such a helpful environment, Kudo Saheb's own story offers a lens to speak about both external and interior struggles of many Muslims during this period. Before this tragedy, he was known for his mesmerizing performance of the songs of Muharram both in Telugu and Urdu. When the police action was executed between September 13th and 17th, along with many aspects, his narrative performance too, according to Kudo Saheb, started fading out. Kudo Saheb said, the police action was an end of many good beginnings in our lives. We lost not only many friends, our personal careers, our lives, and the most importantly, the beautiful life, the hisan of our shared culture. If someone says it is just about few Muslims, no, not at all. It is a pain about the entire community of the then Hyderabad. Since then, these words stayed with me. However, it took me a while to return to this research on the police action as I had a hard time finding sufficient sources given to write a brief piece. Taking notes from my previous work, I had noticed that many witnesses were mentioning about various writers, cultural activists, and literary texts between 1948 and 1956. In the process, when I started reading fictional writings, memoirs, and autobiographies of this period, then I had realized that I need to dig more alternative archives such as moral histories and literary written narratives. Focusing on the old city of Hyderabad of the late 40s, I will discuss how the new generation of Muslims had struggled to remake their everyday lives that were totally destroyed by this police action. What scholars such as Merkhalidi, Ejinurani, Taylor Sherman, Sunil Pushatam described as the destruction of Hyderabad, the Hyderabad massacre, or the third front of audition. Many witnesses from my field work between 2006 and 2019 have described the entire violence as almost comparable to partition. The larger project raises key questions related to many dimensions of the making of Hyderabad Muslim identity, the fear of Muslim presence, the idea of Pakistan as articulated in local context, constantly shipping Hindu-Muslim interactions, gender aspects, and the conflicts between the majoritarian and minoritarian discourses. Mediologically speaking, how could we make connections between oral histories of cultural fields such as Abdul Kudu Sahib and various other written narratives about this traumatic period. Before that, I'm going to leave a description of what happened during the police action. In 1947, on August 15th, as the new nation states of India and Pakistan referred to negotiate land and power, their borders were bloodied by the violence of the partition. But India's territorial disputes were not limited to its western boundary. The citizens of different states of Hyderabad had experienced the unraveling of an intense political and religious conflict between the Union government of India and the local ruler, the Nizam of Hyderabad. To control the local power of the Nizam and his private army, namely the Rajakars, the Union government of India deployed the Central Army with a code name called Operation Polo, popularly known as Police Action, in General and Police Charya in Telugu. During these gruesome five days, according to the Pundit Sundar Lal's report, thousands of Muslims were either killed or were forced to migrate to Pakistan. This side of the story of an endless violence, migrations and survival of Muslims is still marginalized in the dominant historiography of Hyderabad. Even the report of the Pundit Sundar Lal and Khaji Abdul Ghaffar who visited the affected areas in November and December of 1948 was not made public. Thanks to Sunil Khurshatham's efforts, this report is now available. Despite its first ever disclosure of such violence, during and after the police action, Sundar Lal commission's report remained suppressed until recently as the Indian government considered it to be harmful to national interest. In his book Hyderabad After the Fall, Umer Khalidi documented several reports and adherence to writings about the police action, what he called the Hyderabad Holocaust. The local newspapers had extensive coverage of this Muslim budgeting and block. In one of the conversations Imam Hussein, an 80 year old witness of the police action, told me, in fact, I was not even aware that we gained independence from the British rule and they already left India forever. When the entire country was joyously celebrating the new ajati, we Muslims in Hyderabad were devastated by the police action and we were struggling hard to save ourselves on a daily basis. Scholars on the Hyderabad studies have discussed about how this notion of ajati independence was a recurring theme in almost every discourse during the parties. However, by Muslims such as Imam Hussein, the very concept and the language of ajati was elusive and remains an unsettling question forever. In such an environment, how do we understand the positionality of a non-Muslim writer who identifies himself with the broader Hyderabad Muslim community? It is the witnesses such as Kuthu Sahib and Imam Hussein clearly expressed their disappointment and frustration with the newly formed nation state of India and its nationalist narrative. Imam Swami also emphasized the similar viewpoint by describing this movement as an end of an era in his Telugu short stories Charmina, titled after the famous monument in the city of Hyderabad. On the other hand, within the history of modern Telugu writing, the genre of short story played a distinctive role in uncovering the marginalized lives in the city of Hyderabad and Thalanga. Various long narratives such as novel focused on a nationalist portrayal of local heroes, short narratives such as stories and personal essays contest the national narrative and provide resistance from the below. In this case, the organized lawyer, lawyer and middle class Muslims of Hyderabad. Indeed, the title of Swami's collection Charmina too in many ways represents the life world of Swami and his political vision that centers on a Muslim-centered narrative. Since the positionality of a non-Muslim writer speaking about Muslims is in question, I also need to respond to questions such as who was this author during the late 1940s and why he was deeply concerned about the Muslim community or their sleep fashion subjectivities. Many of his friends when sharing their memories about Swami told me rather than a writer Swami was more an activation during those days. Various the specific period of the 1940s represents several strands of modern and reformist debates in the larger Islamic world. I suggest that the case of Hyderabad-based Muslimness offers us a quite different example, one of an entirely modern Islamic media. The short story is published during and around this period seemed to function as a site of tension between the normative expressions of Islam and the shifting paradigm in the everyday life of Muslims in Hyderabad. Swami's Muslim character show how these two mutually connected concepts deal with gender equality, social justice, pluralism and an emphasis on a minoritarian discourse. These are the key ingredients that shaped an alternative Muslim identity in the aftermath of the police action in Hyderabad. The production and circulation of such an intriguing discourse led to the creation of what we can call a version of the new Muslim, Naya Muslim, in the history of Hyderabad state during the turbulent forties. This idea of a new Muslim is closely connected to the making of modern Hyderabad, which several witnesses described as Naya Hyderabad in Urdu or Adhika Hyderabad or Kotha Hyderabad in Telangu. By connecting the imaginary of Swami's fiction and the reality of this war on this race, the idea of the new Hyderabad and its composite religious culture, known popularly as Hyderabad-Dithya, has always been a key component in the rise of a modern and progressive Muslim self after the police action. Born in the city of Hyderabad, Swami was one of those people who take pride in Hyderabad-Dithya and use a tagline of Paidaiishi Hyderabad, meaning Hyderabad born. During the times when most writers and cultural figures were trying to disown both Hyderabad-Dithya and Muslim element in their personality, Swami never hesitated to declare his emotional attachment to the city and Muslims. His friends recall the statements such as, I am old Hyderabadi to the core, I grew up being half Muslim and half Hindu while I should say I have more of the forties old Muslim-ness in my personality. Swami Stan Muslim-ness has many dimensions that mark the making of Hyderabadi religious identity. Hindu-Muslim shared devotion would do sphere as a new model and the legacy of the old city of Hyderabad. Many of his characters at some point of their life make an explicit statement that as the title of this talk suggests, they are no longer Nawabs and they constantly articulate a desire to remove or liberate themselves from the chains of the past. To begin with a very simple idea, these Muslim characters in Swami's fiction point out the tensions between tradition and modernity as manifested in the everyday life in the crucial turn of modernity in Hyderabad-Dithya. That shows acceptance involved with the broader themes in the Deccan literary tradition. Most of the ideas circulated by these Muslim characters however demonstrate a life-form embedded in the pluralistic thoughts of the Deccan Islam. Each Muslim and Hindu character in Swami's work is positioned in a way that they unequivocally challenge the stereotypical narrativeization of Nawabi-centered Muslim discourse in the city of Hyderabad. In this talk, I will focus on two characters from two stories which I argue function as testimonials for a multi-dimensional Muslim belonging. For instance, in the story titled Vimukti, Sultan, the protagonist of the story, stresses his subjectivity and longs for freedom from the brutal authority of the Nawabi practices that produce class and gender inequality. Contesting the age-old practices and gender discrimination, Sultan writes a letter to his Amma before leaving for Aligarh with a Muslim servant maid. Amma, please do forgive me. I have done two things that would be unacceptable to you. First, I have come far away from the contrived atmosphere of our Nawabi families that are steadily in decline. I have come here for good, far removed from lonesome customs and demeaning attitudes. Please don't look for me. I shall not return. Writing this letter was a defining movement in the life of Sultan in this story, Vimukti liberation. Acknowledged the long history of Nawabi and Ashrafi practices of his family, this act of writing a letter itself was a groundbreaking move and signified his desire to embrace a version of modern Islam and reformism. Along similar lines, the entire literary corpus of Swami and his imaginary of Muslim men and women persistently asked, when will the real liberation dawn in place of the static, rigid and lonesome Nawabi ways of life? And what should be the role of Islam for Swami and His fictional characters repeatedly used the term modern Islam in this liberated space? Like Sultan, most characters try to define the contours of this liberated space within the locale of Hyderabad, thus drawing thick lines between tradition and modernity. Witnessing the troubled times of religious conflict and the rise of various new discourses of nationalism, liberalism, secularism and Marxism, Swami's characters present evidence that responds to the new Muslim question. Like many of Swami's stories, the story Vimukti was also set in an intensely emotional and private setting of his family. Yet this so-called private space was never really a private setting as it was always filled with multiple characters from different classes and castes, thus making it a theater of political and social dimensions of the 1940s Hyderabad. Portraying the larger social, religious and political networks, Swami uses the lens of individual to show the thick line between these two characters, two categories of Muslims. One confined to traditional authorities of structure who stick to age-old Nawabi practices, which they read and interpret as Islam. And the other, a progressive Muslim who takes pride in new modes of education, informed Islam and alternative gender debates. Swami's entire literary corpus prioritizes this new set of political and personal anxieties, including but not limited to other aspects such as the rise of an extremist, Rajahkar politics, a progressive group of Muslims, the migrations from Hyderabad to Pakistan, the systemic dehumanization of Muslims who were disciplined by different optics of political setting. Indeed, Swami's characters document the swiftly evolving social, political networks of this new individual, Muslim individual, who blends local and global Islam. Unpacking the complexities of these contemporary networks, Swami's stories explain how this new Muslim subjectivity emerges out of the debris of the extreme violence and politics of hate in the 1940s. And Sultan's portrait functions as a testimony to this emerging discursive space of an alternative Muslim discourse. Born in a group of extremely conservative Nawabi family, Sultan's dedication at the Aligarh Muslim University allows him to cultivate a modern self, originated from the concepts of individual freedom and equality, and social justice. Unlike Sultan, his brother Siraj and Meera Mirza represent an extension of the Nawabi practices. In a way, Sultan and his brothers are positioned at diametrically opposed viewpoints, representing the young generation of Muslims in Hyderabad. Just opposing these two viewpoints from the Ashrafi family provides an opportunity to understand how the upper class Muslim community was dealing with the modernist social thought of the 40s. In contrast, Sultan develops his own perception and outlook towards various personal and religious matters as well. Despite endless, intense arguments with his family, Sultan fails to convince them about his modern understanding of the age-old feudal practices. Through the image of Sultan, Swami in the story shows the impact of new discourses related to Islam and religious ideologies as circulated by institutions such as the Aligarh Muslim University and the locally active progressive movement in Hyderabad. In many ways, Sultan's image represents the key movement of the rise of an angry young Muslim who was totally frustrated with the normalised and rigid Nawabi Ashrafi Muslim lifestyle. Most importantly, the inability to adapt to modern modes of life. In the process, Sultan was not only convincing the families adherence to the age-old practices in the name of Islam, but also defining a new Muslim identity that champions a modern and progressive social output. Indeed, it was a critical movement not only for Sultan, but for many young Muslims who were witnessing a major shift in the political and religious lives of their community in the aftermath of this action. Although it was limited to a family setting, when Sultan was dealing with these issues, he was participating in a wider public discourse about Islamic reformism that he seemingly adopts from various modern sources including Salsa-e-Rahimat Khan's legacy of the Aligarh movement and the local debates about modern social religious thought in the city of Hyderabad. While Urban Mocality was the, defines the textual texture of Swami's short story, the entire narrative comes full circle with the thick descriptions of interior processes of the local Muslim situated historically in late 40s Hyderabad state. Sultan as a character and Swami as another both actively participate in this discourse of post-1940s Islam in Hyderabad. Short story, one functions as a narrative framework for this goal. In the story, Yogantham, the end of an era, Swami explores the question of newly drawn dividing lines between Hindus and Muslims. The loss of mutual trust and the fear of Muslim fear, the connections between the personal and the political that are deserted in the end of a shared religious and collective life in the city. Swami clearly identifies the points of corruption and builds his stories around those intense moments. For instance, Dilawar in Yogantham, Dilawar's extremely ordinary middle-class life turns into a political story with a rupture created by the idea of an Islamic state and the two nation theory. Various many nationalist historians describe this moment as a liberation. As Swami, it is an end of an era, Yogantham. Karen Leonard analyzes how everyday life in the city offers evidence of a successful plural society. Explaining the contours of the proliferation network throughout the city, Leonard shows how this is evident not only in the court and administrative culture, but also in the urban culture as well as in the Muslim and Mughalite at the neighborhood and even household elements. All who live in the city, especially in the neighborhoods of the old world city, participated in the dominant public culture. Regardless of their religious affiliations and private religious observances. Despite this heavy emphasis on everyday pluralism, the consequences of the police action clearly led to the destruction of this mutuality. What Nurani describes as the destruction of Hyderabad itself, gradually separating the community into Hindu and Muslim categories. Swami's description of this separation provides rich evidence of such a destruction of mutuality. This separation has other implications too, such as the anxiety of belonging and the two nations. The two phases that led to the minoritized identity of Muslims in the post-police action Hyderabad. Swami's character, such as the law, fought with the tragic irony of the problem of the minority, precisely by locating them in the political setting of Hyderabad. Various several fiction writers, particularly in Telugu, ambiguously refer to the events of the police action in their fictional accounts. Swami's story Ibantham begins with a precise and particular day, leading more like a page from a historical account. This is how the story begins. September 15th, 1948, it was the third day of the police action. In Hyderabad, we were sitting really close to the All India Radio, listening attentively, noting the volume. The radio says that the Indian army was invading the Hyderabad state. Most importantly, the troops were arriving faster into the city, the almost 50 miles closer. The city will be soon cordoned off from the east, meaning Vijayawada and the west, Sholapur. Just today or tomorrow, these troops will enter the city. We're not sure why the troops from the other directions were not fast enough. Hyderabad was exclusive. The Deccan radio was bad casting the developing news almost 24 hours continually. According to the news, the Hyderabad state army, including the Itihadir Muslimin-Razarkals, were changing the Indian army. And the radio stations most fully declared their bravery, with slogans such as long, leo, haas, indazvi, and haajal, Hyderabad, very soon. That was the first segment in the story. Situating the narrative time and space right at the epicenter of the crisis situation, Swami indeed provides a political testimony of the very early days of the police action, the early phase of the mutual distress, which was distressed between Hindus and Muslims. Beginning with the description of the everyday climate of those four days that led to the destruction of Hyderabad, Swami blends the personal and the political. In the above segment of the story, Swami also describes the politics of media by referring the two conflicting news reports that were in circulation that can radio of the state of Hyderabad and all India radio of the Indian government of India. Being an Urdu script writer at radio, that can radio Swami witnessed many historical events that shaped the state of Hyderabad in Thalangana. Until the police action, that can radio was a center of multicultural legacy of the Hyderabadi pluralism that highlighted the shared practices of modernity in Urdu and Thalangana. In many ways, these radio encouraged the emerging modernist writers and poets who were part of the pluralist discourse of the forties. During the police action, however, that can radio confined itself to upholding the political authority of the mizam. The story begins with a climate that epits the wave of mutual distress and fear that engulfed the entire community in Hyderabad. Swami tries to capture the idiom of such an intense movement of hatred, where, when even a friend appears to be an enemy or suspicious entity. According to Gurdwari Sitaram, who was the editor of this volume of short stories and the close friend of Swami, the entire community had experienced an unprecedented tragedy on the dividing lines between Muslims and Hindus by labeling the community as us, Memu and them, Valdu. Swami's treatment of various Muslim characters and contexts showcases an exemplary narrative model as he implies a pluralist lens, defying the idea of us, Memu and Valdu, them. In the process, he recounts a compelling story of the othering of the Muslim by unraveling the multi-layered psyche of a middle-class Muslim who turned into a razzaka, the private army led by Hassan Bazmi. The protagonist in the story might not be a true representation of an ordinary Muslim, but the way Swami portraits him helps the reader to comprehend the separation of Hindus and Muslims. In addition, he depicts the physical and psychological distancing of Muslims by providing a thick ethnography of the endlessly changing neighborhoods, particularly in the story. Narrating the pathetic journey of the Hindus and Muslims of Hyderabad from distrust to distrust, friendship to hate, and tolerance to intolerance, the story is a compelling testimony of the growing hatred in the society, in the society. Despite the empathy towards his Muslim friends, the narrative, now filled with fear and suspicion, laments the separation of Hindus and Muslims using the explicit categories of us and them. Describing the situation from the perspective of a Hindu, Swami's character here exposes the fear and trauma caused by the very presence of Muslims and the activities of the razzakas too. As the story unfolds, Swami describes how life in the neighborhoods was this, had undergone a massive change physically and then psychologically. The story walks the reader through the narrow lanes of the city, which were by then visibly segregated into Muslim and Hindu spaces. Significantly, the descriptions about the work spaces, about the partitioning of Hindus and Muslims. In addition, Swami makes a clear distinction between an ordinary Muslim and a razzakar by exposing us to the human face of the dilemma throughout the story. He documented several Muslim characters as the victims of the theory of the two nations and then portrays how their lives were further complicated by these razzakars. Various Swami's other stories depict the socio-cultural consequences of the police action. Yogantham deals particularly with the consequent shifts in Hyderabad Muslim politics. At the outset, it is about two dear friends, one Hindu named Swami, note again the autobiographical feature here with the writer giving his own name to the narrator of the story. The other Muslim, Dilawar, the protagonist in the story, emits such turbulent and susceptible situation and even more in the middle of the night, Swami's friend Dilawar drops him. Although Swami and his mother usually considered Dilawar as a family, now at this midnight hour and particularly after the police action, they hesitated to open the door and that union. A long time friend now becomes a suspicious entity and a stranger too. After hesitating for a while, they let Dilawar in and during their conversations, they learned about Dilawar's recent metamorphosis into a follower of Pasi Mrazvi. While Dilawar had committed countless atrocities, he had started to feel betrayed ever since the Nizam surrendered to the union government. Dilawar had been anticipating that the Nizam will continue and the Rizarkas will be successful in creating an Islamic state modeled on Pakistan. After the Nizam surrendered, Dilawar was forced to leave Gagrito as the state police was chasing. Towards the end of the story, the totally disuncharted and frustrated Dilawar decides to migrate to Pakistan to escape the state violence further complicated by the hatred of his friends. Towards the non-Muslim narrator, towards the end of the story, articulates his absolute disenchantment with the outcome of the police action. Parallel to these external violent activities, he describes the inner life of his friend as if he were trying to juxtapose the state violence and the state of his mind in addition to his whole interiority as a narrator. However, when we read the letter written by Dilawar to Swami, his words plainly expressed their anguish and failure of the nation state. Swami, it was a movement to narrate his dissolution, not only with the police action, but the very nature of the two governmental systems that destroyed the pluralist ethos of everyday life in Hyderabad. Swami's literary career and personal life were indeed defined by this very movement of pluralist space as he began his literary work with the translations of Urdu short fictional writers including Mantham and his exposure to local Sufi networks. The characterization of Dilawar in Yudhantam portrays the dynamics of this plurality, but Swami's lamentation about the unfortunate end also talks about several ends that lead to the destruction of Hyderabad. In Yudhantam, Dilawar represents his own anxiety as a Muslim and also his concerns about Hyderabad. So this actually like basically the interior story of Swami himself. In many ways, in the previous story, Sultan foregrounds a set of progressive and modernist concepts that Swami further elaborates in his later fiction. By deconstructing each practice of the Nawabi life in the city, Swami's characters operate critical lengths on their life and use various devices of resistance. By uncovering the sites of inner conflicts within the Muslim community, Swami also draws attention to the paradigmatic situations in which Muslims remain forever at a loss. Swami's fiction shows few characters such as Asim, Ruhi in other stories who were pushed to the ultimate oppression. From these limited examples of Muslim characters, we can see a diverse group of Muslim men and women as they navigate a new reality and a sense of being and belonging in the aftermath of this action. In a discussion on the dynamics of Muslim identity before partition, the historian Barbara Metcalf observes three major arguments. One, rethinking the institutional changes and normative practices of organizations such as the biggie. Number two, increasing the political presence and participation in alternative ways. And finally, number three, drawing attention to the image and metaphorization of Muslimness as articulated in the public imagination. Swami's short fictional work actually is in dialogue with all these changes and the pluralist religious setting characterizes all these aspects of Muslim identity and the interactions between Muslims and Hindus. In this way, Hyderabad extends the legacy of its nature as an inter-religious city, a term I borrow from Heather Miller-Lewens, Omer Haseid and Benjamin Sacks. These scholars argue that the public square should be full of religious idioms and imaginaries that seek, apprehend, plain as well as shape ideals and suggest solutions. They emphasize the empowerment of inter-religious networks to speak in those idioms and raising inter-religious literacy and invite the text that inspire individuals to become engaged in citizens in the public square. Constructing such an idiom and creating an imaginary to represent various Muslim and Hindu characters that hold the values of inter-religiousity, Swami's writings actually create this kind of public sphere that invites the larger debates related to the Muslim question. Despite the limitations of any fictional testimony, the characterization of such an idea of a progressive and critical Muslim is articulated by diverse means in these writings. Most importantly, through alternative narrative agency, a forceful individual voice and a reporter of recently available tools of resistance. Although these two terms define the context of the life-form of Swami's work, it is imperative to understand multiple strands of Muslim thought, global and local, that also shape the everyday and intellectual life of Swami and His characters. During the field research, I have met Jayani Malaya Gupta, who was one of the cultural activists in the 1940s, who emphasized it and then tried to contextualize what Swami did during his lifetime. He was talking about how progressive movement influenced local writers and then cultural teams. He particularly used two Urdu theorems, Tharakipasand and Adab. And the larger idea of socialism, of course, is in this discourse. Throughout our individual meetings in 2019, Gupta was very keen on using Marxian vocabulary as was used by in many Telugu and Urdu writings of his day. He was quite insistent that the use of the specific term Adab, whenever I tried to use the Telugu equivalents during the conversation, focusing on how Tharakipasand and Adab produced an entirely new repository of concepts and practices in the social and political environment of Hyderabad. Gupta narrated his own story that started with the organization called Comrades Association. According to Gupta, not only writers, but even readers and ordinary people were immensely inspired by these new ideas. Growing up in such a milieu, Swami was likewise motivated partly by similar leftist ideas of focus, which were complimented by the debates on deformedism and modern Islam. Swami's fiction captures the particular intense movement what Gupta was trying to explain as a witness. Swami grew up, of course, witnessing all these many changes in the everyday life of Hyderabad and had close associations with various social and cultural organizations of the society of this city, about which Gupta was trying to explain. He was in his late 20s when the city was being reshaped by the post-40s developments, including the police action and the resultant religious context. During one of my conversations with the well-known Telugu Urdu literary historian, Samala Sadashiva, who fondly remembered Swami and said, More than once, Swami spoke extensively about the police action that he had witnessed. He was lamenting the disappearance of the Hyderabadi Muslim legacy and the Urdu influence. Even now, Swami's emphasis on narrating the transforming psyche of his Muslim and Hindu friends remain intriguing in light of the post-2014 Telangana Sepetist movement. Various several studies focus on the violent side of the Hindu-Muslim interactions or gender issues during the post-partition era. Swami's hybrid literary narratives that blend Urdu and Telugu elements offer insights into the value of everyday life and the refashioning of modern life by Muslims. He helps us to understand the ethics of coexistence between local Muslims and Hindus, thus raising a pertinent question of what being Muslim means in a pluralist, socio-religious context, such as the city of Hyderabad. This new Muslim has portrayed in Swami's narrative as not a victim, but a survivor, not an individual imprisoned in the fixed interpretations of identity, but a champion of modernist discourse. Towards this goal, this new Muslim even goes to the extent of challenging and contesting his family and community legacy. To put it briefly, this fictional world represents a pluralist cultural model that forthrightly respects multiculturalism and values the idea of multiple identities, the hallmark of the Hyderabadi culture. This idea of the new Muslim that began with Swami Sultan as articulated in local Islam arrives at another historical phase in the 1980s turn of Muslim writing as a category. This entire journey from the police action to the 1980s Muslim writing has provided more political and cultural space for Muslim literary and political activism, then pluralizing the Muslim narrative. Actually, that political story, that would be topic for my next topic hopefully somewhere. Thank you so much. Thank you so much, Professor Muhammad for that amazing presentation. I would now like to invite Professor Benjamin Cohen to have a discussion with Professor Muhammad. And also to the audience, if you would like to put in your questions at this point, please use the Q&A box or the chat box to do so. Great. Thank you so much, Professor Muhammad. Thank you for a wonderful presentation and also thank you to the British Library for hosting us virtually today. So I wanted to start with a question about the location of the police action and the bigger story of modern South Asian history. You know, the princely states are often a small part of that story and, you know, Hyderabad, I think loses out to Kashmir when scholars talk about the role of the princely states around the time of partition. And so the police action is an event within the Hyderabad state, in a sense, becomes a footnote on a footnote. And I'm wondering if you agree with that and if you see your work in this presentation and the use of literary sources as well as archival sources, is in a sense restoring the rightful place of Hyderabad and the police action to the story of India's independence, the post-partition years, and the story of Hindu-Muslim relations? Thank you so much, Ben. So important question for me. It's also key for this entire research and project. So, yeah, of course, Hyderabad actually remained a footnote in many of these stories and narratives, particularly the historical writings. For a particular reason that for a long time, we never discussed about what happened in Hyderabad city and surroundings, ruling and after the police action, particularly those four days. And then, of course, we now have evidence that it's not just confined to those four days, it's like until 1952, there was a lot of violence and suppression. So, I actually wanted to discuss about this geography of violence in my introduction, the book, but also Yeji Nurani, in his destruction of Hyderabad, the detailed description about where exactly violence happened and then how community, like, survived. And then, so he focused on that aspect. But in my field research, what I noticed actually in the conclusion of this book, I am going to narrate one story about one Muslim who migrated to Hyderabad to escape state violence. And then he gathered, like, local Muslims, like a few Muslims, handful of Muslims, and then he also later on became an activist. So this is what then when I was talking to him, I had like very detailed conversations with this person. And then I was so surprised, but when he was explaining me the incidents that happened in Hyderabad and surrounding areas. Until then, we had no idea that there was some violence in Hyderabad and in surrounding regions as related to police action. Because we hear more from Uswana about Nagpur and all these places, but we barely hear any story from Hyderabad. So one of the things that I am going to do is to talk about and cover those stories about violence. And then, unfortunately, some of my witnesses, they passed away the last year after the COVID and then because most of them 80 players, and then that was so sad. I actually don't know how to digest this reality, because I lost all my witnesses, half of the witnesses. I just have their voices on my iPhone. And then I listened to those voices, both men and women, felt so bad. Why we're not talking about this history, but love? Even now, because we barely touch those aspects because of the like high emphasis on nationalism, secularism, and also most important is the emphasis on leftist activism centered on Telangana, most of the time leftist too. They were talking about like this distinction between house and house, class distinction, but never talked about Muslims. So that's actually my effort is to explore the geography of violence, but of course my emphasis is not on violence and trauma, but I want to tell the story of remaking and refashioning of new Muslim identities. Thank you. In sort of talking about the making of a new Muslim identity and I've got another question about that. I was struck both in the draft that you sent me and also in your presentation today. The lack of mention of the Nizam, right, who is sort of the epitome of the old Hyderabad-Nawabi culture, if you will. And I wonder if you could say something about how Swami treats the Nizam, if at all in his writing, and how does Mirusman Ali Khan fare in the literary stories about the police action? That's very interesting and intriguing question then. I actually had so much to understand how these people were looking at Nizam. Of course now, at this point in even in Telugu, we have like some research being done about what Nizam actually did to develop Hyderabad. It's one university and then so actually in your favorite topic, there is just read a book on modern education. So there is also an argument that okay, Nizam also did so much good. Only thing, like most of them including leftist writers, Muslim writers and the witnesses that who gave the details of violence, they were all following, they have this balanced viewpoint. Okay, Nizam did good stuff until the police action. And also, because the political pressure, he became so weak and then he couldn't resist and then he couldn't fight. And then Satyar Patel's mission to destroy Hyderabad and the princess state of Hyderabad made him restless. And then at that moment, he depended totally on Razakas. So that side of story, people like critics, cultural activists, including the witnesses that I mentioned in my, this chapter, like Jaini Malaya Gupta and then Samala Sada Siva, who do they sit around like people like those, even though they have like a lot of, they have a lot of respect of these people. Respect for Nizam's reformist agenda, they couldn't buy that argument about Razakas and then operation and then a military face of that Razakas. But I see there is a balanced viewpoint right now. So we can see new histories coming now, talking about what Nizam actually did and then what should we talk about Nizam's reformist agenda, particularly in the wake of Hindutva history. Great. So if Nizam holds one location in Swami's writing and in the history of Hyderabad state in the 20th century, I was interested in, you know, and he's of course an older figure. It seemed that in Swami's writing and the characters which you, you read from in your presentation, that being in the 1914, you know, post police action, being a new Muslim automatically meant that you were a young Muslim. And I'm interested in the role of generation here and that is in Swami's writing or there any elderly parents, for instance, who embraced that new Muslim identity, or is it, is it sort of a trope that the parents and the grandparents are stuck in the past, and their sons and daughters and grandchildren are the only ones who are embracing the future. Can you say something about sort of that generational split, which becomes evident in the literature, but I'd like to hear you elaborate on that a bit. Yes, thank you. That's also another key question. And then, yes, obviously, there is a generational gap between, like, maybe when I spoke with Jayani Malaya Gupta, who was 18 years old during the police action, who was also a good friend of, and then Sada Siva, they were good friends, the same age group. And then they had the same age group of Muslims as their friends from the whole city of Hyderabad. So they were talking about this generational gap, so 40 plus Muslims, they were not actually like ready to accept any, like, version of modern Islam or reformism. So this is all happening between 18 and 30 years old Muslim men and women. In another story, actually Swami also describes about women, actually gender discourse, and that actually one of the primary sources to discuss about gender discourse in Hyderabad city. So where he talks about one student who graduated from medical college, she, like, struggles with her parents, like when they support a very Islamic agenda. So we should stick to either Sunni, she version of Islam, traditional version of Islam, and then she's like challenges that I didn't, why? Why do you should either become Sunni or she? I am just Muslim. I just want to see this entire dilemma right now before my eyes as a Muslim. I, my entire struggle after the police action is to understand what is happening to Muslim women. So this kind of street that is basically with the age plays a big role. And then, and then I just, like, there are numerous memoirs, even published in English and would do that speak highly about Islam. For a particular reason that they were all written by 41 age group persons. Even in Telugu, we have that kind of dilemma, but of course Telugu historiography in Telugu is not that balanced. It's like, because most of these historians in Telugu, they were actually either influenced by nationalism or leftist Marxian theology. So they couldn't maintain a balance between what is actually happening in the ground and then how they were, for me, they are a big failure in understanding the Muslim society of political parties. So they couldn't, that generational gaps, even in literary writings, we can see those generational gaps. And that's why in the chapter I emphasized, it's happening only like young generation of generation. Yeah, it's clear in the chapter draft, one of the other binaries, which was very interesting to me, and I think is really important for the audience to know more about is the difference between the way in which the police action played out in Hyderabad city and in the villages. And I'm wondering if you could say something about how Swami handles that sort of urban rural divide. And if there is a difference between how the police action and the aftermath are experienced in their urban core in the old city of Hyderabad, in the center of Hyderabad state versus what's going on in smaller towns and villages further afield. Can you sort of elaborate on how you see the difference playing out and if your work is adding in a sense new details about the police actions impact either in the city and or in the Mufassal. Okay, so in the earlier I mentioned about one person who migrated from one village to city, right. So, and then I myself bought in group of in kind of village setting, which is actually a wave of 150 miles from Hyderabad city, where actually that was my the earliest phase of research. When I, that's why I mentioned about maybe this work 2006 and 2009. I met some of the witnesses from my own hometown, and also several villages in Algonda, Karimnagar, and then surrounding village with Medak. So these places, even though they are away from city house kind of away also from vanity. I hear a lot of violence. They were telling about the stories about violence, how the families were uprooted and then how some of their families, they migrated to Pakistan to escape all these things. So there is actually, of course, there is not much urban and rural divide when it comes to violence. But Hyderabad in a way, because of a lot of activism at this point, actually Malaya Gupta told me that Hyderabad became like a safe place for him. At this point, like there is leftist activism, and then, and then in a way, police and military were not like they were not that active in this place and then they just migrated to city and then settled there. So a lot of migration happened from villages to Hyderabad city during this particular period between after the police action just to escape that violence even in this village. Another one of the interesting points that came up was the role of Lucknow and sort of North Indian Islam is being more progressive. And it was interesting because, you know, Hyderabad and Lucknow have long sort of been in conversation with each other, not only about who has the best biryani, but the relationship between, you know, North Indians, non-mulkies coming to Hyderabad and the Deccan to take up service during the time of the first And it was interesting to me that is, you know, Swami as a writer in the middle of the 20th century is still invoking Lucknow as this special magical place that people should aspire to go to that that is where the modern, modern Muslim modern Islam is located at. I mean, what do you think? Is it, has it become a trope now that Lucknow is the place to be and all eyes should be towards Lucknow? What do you, how do you respond? Yeah, in many stories, written by Swami and other fictional writers in this particular period. Aligarh particularly, and then Sarasahed Haimat Khan's philosophy in specific, they are recurring themes. But of course, there's a lot of material out there to talk about why Aligarh and then why Sarasahed Haimat always returns in these stories. New generation Muslims for new generation, particularly Muslim youth, Aligarh and like Sarasahed Haimat Khan, their great inspirations at that point. And then, and then after, of course, there is also a tension between Mulki and Manmulki there. But I think when it comes to Aligarh and Sarasahed Haimat Khan's legacy, I would see that kind of tension. So there is, there is kind of, when Muslims like speak about all these intellectual influences, particularly this 20 plus, but I actually did interviews with some of the organizations that came up after the police action. Also, I met this newspaper, CIASA's editor, and then their family, they all had great respect for Aligarh and Sarasahed Haimat Khan, even though they were on the other hand emphasizing the importance of Mulki. But when it comes to Muslim intellectual thought, it takes so much from North India, no doubt about it. Great. One of the things that I very much appreciated in your talk and in the chapter draft was that excerpt about language, Memu and Valu. You know, you and I both work in Urdu and Telugu, yours much better than mine. But let's take it back to Swami's writing. And was that one of the few examples where that linguistic difference is used to tease apart Hindu and Muslim communities? Or is that something that Swami and his short stories? Do we see him playing with Telugu and Urdu language to either bring the communities together or show the ways in which they're torn apart? Is that a characteristic of his storytelling? That's quite interesting when I came across this usage of Azhar them in Telugu context. And then also I heard the same from my other cultural activists and political activists. Like when I met Birgula Narasimha Rao, particularly he has unfortunately passed away last year. He was also using this kind of terminology. Because after police action, they were very clear about this distinction between us and them. Also, even within Muslim community, as I just explained in one of Swami's story where this medical graduate speaks about her own subjectivity. She also uses Apne or Paraya there. So it looks like after, because anyway after partition and then particularly in the case of Hyderabad, the police action. That kind of categorization is in a way kind of very solid, whether it is in a village or in the city. So it's same like Swami also actually using the same medium. And then actually many memoirs, autobiographical writings, newspaper pieces also like to talk about this distinction between us and them. Great. Maybe one more question from me and then we can hear from the participants. Hyderabodies are fine and I think it's not just Hyderabodies alone, but that sense of tazeb, that sense of nostalgia and an imagining of a past. While there's ample evidence of tremendous positive relations between all communities in Hyderabad, there's also some evidence of a lot of violence. Eyewitness accounts describe the bazaars of Hyderabad with Nawabs and people armed to the teeth and the newspaper accounts of the 19th century are filled with accounts of clashes between different communities. Not necessarily communal, but between one faction and another. And so I guess, do you think that is Swami's writing sort of playing on that nostalgia or do you think he's drawn upon his own life experience growing up as he says himself, you know, half Hindu, half Muslim thinking of himself as sent percent to Hyderabody. How do we understand the counterfactuals to that sense of tazeb and this almost rosy past? So for Swami, his entire fictional writing is autobiographical. Whatever he was writing, particularly about Muslims, actually the book itself Charminar title is devoted to, dedicated to his long time friend from Hyderabad. So I hear that actually, he actually told the story in the character of Dilawar as a jaka, whatever. So for him it is not nostalgia. For him, it is actually like he was writing basically as an insider rather than just being Hindu doesn't make him outsider. He always claimed himself as an insider. And then all his friends consider him as literally world city Muslim. So it's kind of more, it's not nostalgia. Of course, there is a certain element of nostalgia when he talks about mushyras, and then the certain rituals and practices about both Muslim and Hindus, where Muslims and Hindus practice this kind of little element of nostalgia. But when I read the story, it's not just about nostalgia. He was using nostalgia as a tool to articulate certain level of resistance. That was being expressed by his Muslim friends. So it's an interesting leveling of nostalgia and resistance there. Yeah, it seems almost that his young youthful characters are pushing off against that nostalgia. Stuck in the past yet, it's exactly that kind of past that the police action seems to rupture at the same time. And there's a lot of complexity and tension there. That is why I'm more intrigued by his fictional writing. Sometimes I feel like, okay, he's like giving me more details rather than any story. Good. Thank you so much, Professor Mohan. Thank you so much, Ben. This is wonderful. I want to include all of your questions in my final transcript. Thank you so much. Thank you both of you for that very engaging and very enriching session. I learned a lot. We have one question at the moment. So I'm going to take that and I would like to request the audiences, please feel free to put in your questions and I'll read them out. The first question is from Taylor Sherman. Thank you for this great paper. I really love the use of these sources to tell the story. My question is the flip side of Ben's first question. To what extent in the sources you have examined where Hyderabad these becoming part of India in new ways in this period, for example, was a new Muslim defined in Hyderabad itself, or primarily through interaction with discourses and practices coming from the rest of India. Thank you so much, Taylor Sherman. So happy to hear from you in this session inspired by your work on police action. So the question is basically like most of these young Muslims during this point, they were not identifying themselves with the big story of nationalist story of India. They were very clear enough to separate themselves from that nationalist narrative. But only when some articulations when I read about the works of Swami I feel like that they were actually because of their struggle to break away from the past. They were actually trying to like, like it looks like sometimes, oh, maybe they were buying this nationalist argument. But including the main story you don't know which I just explained. It also speaks much about that kind of tension, but I don't believe even Swami during his lifetime he actually never but that idea subscribe to this idea of nationalist. And also, most Muslims, on the other hand, that is one thing that is missing in Swami's short fiction, but I get it from other autobiographical writings that most Muslims, particularly this 20 plus age two Muslims, they were in dialogue with what is happening worldwide as far as Islam is concerned. And then what kind of discourses are happening and they were trying to be fashion in everyday life after those new ideologies. Hope that makes sense. Thank you, Professor Muhammad. I don't think we have any more questions. So why did we wait for more questions? Professor Kohan, do you want to, you know, do you have any more questions to ask? Sure, I'd be happy to keep the conversation going. It's a real honor for me. So, Afsar, you know, one of the intriguing things about the police action has been the archival access to archival material and you alluded to this at the beginning of your talk that some of the government reports surrounding the police action haven't been available and that's made it more difficult for historians and scholars from other fields to delve into what happened or at least to understand the government's reporting of what happened. Do you have any updates for us on where we're at with the availability of sources regarding the police action? Oh, cool. Actually, the problem is, as you know, as a historian, we always look at conventional sources, right? So until now, we just looking at like documents and then historical writings are kind of that kind of comes like conventional material. So these were where actually I wanted to like take a day tour and, okay, depend on this non-conventional sources and that is what I call alternative archives, like between fiction, autobiographies and memoirs, and then of course, journalistic writings also. But the problem even in like we have Taylor Sherman here who actually used a lot of materials from Urdu and other kind of archives. And then Nurani spoke also, like, gives us a sense of what kind of archives we can explore. And then Umar Khaldi himself has added a lot of work as far as archives are concerned. There is one limitation. Most of these archives are still limited to Urdu or English. Most of course, as far as Nizam's governmental documents are concerned, most of them are also available in English anyway. So I want you to, I want to understand the story of local Muslims. We need to use Telugu sources. So which are actually nobody ever used them. Me, they don't even, they never thought of using them, considering them as historical sources. So, but when I started looking at these sources, I, every day I come up with one interesting source, either a story, poem, or like they're also popular folk genres that speak about police action. So my idea is also your use of oral history, I think is just fantastic. It's tragic that that generation has reached a point where a lot of people are no longer with us, but it's great that you've been able to collect some of those stories. Priyanka, back to you. Thank you. I think you have two more questions, or probably more than that. But I don't think we'll have time for all of them. So I'll try and take as many as I can. The first one is from Daniel Widman, Ibram. Another question asking for your reflection on this absurd. I'm curious about how everyday hybridity or interreligious dimensions becomes not just legible in the comments, which it does as you have chronicled here in a literary historical imagination, but can be grounded as a force for organizing the workings of power. It seems that what we see is that monoreligious claims work in tandem with the exercise of power, while the lived interreligiosity is contained in everyday life from where I'm from. How do we think about the limitations of hybridity or interreligiosity in the face of the exercise of monoreligious alignment with state power. Just curious about your reflections on this. Daniel, of course, you know our response to this question, I know. So, particularly at this point, that's why I actually I wanted to talk about new Muslim writing in Telugu later, but where you can clearly see what kind of tension we can capture. But of course, power actually plays a crucial role in constructing this kind of hybridity or countering the hybridity. So, in 1998 when I witnessed Adwani's speech in Hyderabad, when he was talking about police action as a day of liberation. So, that actually that discourse is still out there, very powerful. So, it's also impacting everyday life. So, I actually when I started writing about one autobiography written by one Telangana freedom fighter and who also witnessed the endless police action and the Telangana armed struggle in Hyderabad throughout his life. Then he was good. He was totally influenced by what do spear. So, even when he was writing this autobiography, around the same time, 1998 and 2000. There were voices, oh, why you are writing about Muslims, why you are talking about Radhakas, why you are talking about Nizam. So, they all kind of being a Marxist, we don't accept this kind of Nizam centered writings. So, that kind of element is still strong out there. But what I see in everyday life, that is where the new mode of Muslim writing after 1980s and then recently after 2010 it became a very powerful probe in contemporary Telugu writing. They are actually trying to make a distinction between this Hindutva centered idea of Hyderabad and then this idea of, in a way I would say it's a little progressive. That is the term, simple term, but I just want to use it to make a distinction between these two practices. But I see, particularly those writers, activists, and then some of the activists from the Udhuspia, they also speak about this kind of progressive hybridity. I hope that, it's a big question, it's not easy to respond anyway. Thank you for the question. Thank you. I think we have time for one more question. The next question is by Zehra Sabri. Thanks for an exciting, informative talk. Would it be possible to talk about continuing social, cultural, and intellectual links between Hyderabadis in India and the Hyderabadi community in Pakistan. For example, how much did Telugu materials enjoy an audience among Pakistani Hyderabadi, but at least among the first generation there must have been several migrants who knew Telugu and read Telugu literature alongside Urdu literature. Thank you, Zehra. That is very important question as far as Telugu, Urdu exchanges are concerned. I don't think any writings in Telugu, they are being read in Pakistan, and then of course I wish they could be read there. But I see a lot of Urdu writing in Telugu, particularly. So you know about Ibrahim Jallis, who actually published the autobiographical, this kind of memoir, Do Munqiyad Kahani, two regions, two countries, two states in one story. So where he actually, Ibrahim Jallis, he worked in Deccan radio. So that kind of, we have a lot of interaction between Urdu to Telugu, but not like Telugu to Urdu. Maybe at some point, because this aspect of bilingualism is fading out. So you don't see that kind of scholars, for instance, Swami, and then all the witnesses that I presented today, all of them, they grew up reading Urdu literature. They were engaging with Urdu sphere, but in like in after 1998, maybe after police action, I would say after police action, that connection is lost. So people are either reading Telugu or Urdu, that's it. There is no link between two languages. So that's a very sad situation. It's also like a post-colonial, tragic irony, of course. But there are like figures, like cultural figures, like Saman Asalasi, who I mentioned. He actually did a lot of effort to cultivate, test for a Urdu sphere in Telugu for the last 35 years. But it is partly successful. I don't see that possibility of Pakistanis reading this kind of material there. But I read a lot of autobiographical writings and memoirs by Pakistanis about Hyderabad. But in Urdu, of course, one chapter I'm going to discuss about Jila Nibano, Urdu writer, and then the role of her, that novel's translation in Telugu public sphere. So she also talks a lot about these Hyderabadi and Pakistani exchanges. But a lot of writers, they still talk about that interaction, but the linguistic exchange is no more. It's very, very, very poor. Thank you. We don't have time for any more questions, but if you would like, I can read out the third question if you want to think about it later or quickly if you want to answer it. The question is from Ayub Khan. Are there hints in Swami's works or other Telugu literature about nostalgia of Hyderabadi Muslim migrants to Pakistan elsewhere? Urdu literature addresses it, but I'm curious of Telugu literature. There is also, as of yet, under-analyzed literature of Hyderabadi refugees in USA. I am so happy to hear from you. Yes, of course. Swami's story, Ugantam that I mentioned here, that's actually about Dilawar's migration to Pakistan. And then the book also dedicated to his friend who migrated to Pakistan. So actually that is kind of a narrative recurring theme in not only in Urdu, just like I mentioned Jilani Vanu right now. Even in the writings in Telugu post-police action, there are few novelists. Particularly there is a novel about who migrated to Pakistan and then also returns to Hyderabad at some point. So they talk about the tensions between Hyderabadi identity and then the Pakistani identity. Actually Pakistan, you know, is not just a geography, right? It's also a metaphor, right? In many ways, right? So in many of these writings, particularly in fictional writing, that return to Pakistan articulates a desire to embrace kind of traditional Muslim identity. But I still have to explore the possibilities of like other sources, like I'm sure there are numerous sources. Thank you so much, Professor Afsar Mohamad and Professor Benjamin Cohen for that fascinating session. Thank you very much. Thank you to our audiences for joining us tonight. Please join us next week, 23rd August, same time 5.30pm for a seminar presentation by Dr. Sauti Sabur from Brack University in Dhaka. She will be speaking on formation of the middle class in Bangladesh and the session will be chaired by Professor Dina Siddiqi from NYU. So do join us. Thank you. Stay well and good night to all of you. Thank you. Thank you so much, everyone. Thank you.