Such a good interview. I feel as if I understand your stance on religion a lot better now. Watching from close up the growth of Islamism must have been a deeply distressing thing. Agree about Salman Rushdie and the crazy efforts some of these public figures make to be even-handed, so much so that they can't condemn senseless, horrific, terrible violence when they see it. There is violence in refusing to see it for what it is. As I write this I think of other situations in our complex world where some would push for condemnation, and others for support, and then I understand more. Yet and still, no: what happened to Rushdie is only condemnable, not tolerable. I'm glad you are still feeling the support from your substack followers enough to mention it. We are still here, always interested in hearing how you are, reading your thoughts.
When my health took a sudden life changing downturn, which eventually plateaued at a much diminished place, I flailed around looking for explanations and cures which did not come.
After some years of this new life full of fear and despair, an old family friend asked me “ What has this brought you?”. I wanted to strangle her - this disaster had brought me nothing, only misery, and I didn’t fancy propping up someone else’s fanciful worldview by looking on the bright side of a calamity.
But that question sunk in, and the answers were unexpected as they slowly emerged. It did bring me something. The crap still existed, but so did this light.
Inspiring to read your thoughts and hear about your experiences. Regarding the accident it’s sometimes so difficult to come to terms with it but you are the same person, same mind and spirit shining through and this is something I am sure you , your family and friends value so much as do your readers. It’s very difficult being limited by disability of physical ailments. I have sciatica now causing me bad pains at night but it’s nothing compared with the challenges you face, I realise that. What strikes me at times is the way we can find ourselves unable to tell our body what to do. It’s difficult to accept this at times and I am sure you must feel the same.
Excellent to hear about the theatre productions. And congratulations with your forthcoming book due to be published soon.
Glad to read about your progress. It certainly has tried your perseverance but that's been your strength. It sounds as if the physiotherapy, slowly and surely, is working. Keep at it! All the best.
Hi Hanif. I have a very similar injury to you. I've travelled a lot and now I've moved from the UK to California. Life is not easy, but it gets better over time. You will travel again. I'd love to write a book based on my blog at ironmess.com - let me know any tips to sit down and collate and to find a publisher. I've had so many strange experiences since my injury :)
I've been a fan since your first book was published. Many of us British Indians growing up then, reading for the first time a sharp, funny, brown writer of our generation, identified with the characters and felt like it was our story too. I felt shock and empathy for your predicament when I found this Substack of yours less than a year ago. It's amazing how good your writing still is, especially given what you are going through. I admire the sharpness and honesty of your mind and look forward to reading your posts every Saturday morning when I wake up. Sending love from SF.
‘Immigration, the NHS and an ageing population’... the holy triumvirate. I have a friend who graduated from Brighton university with a masters degree in health promotion. She has been unable to return to her home country, Sudan, because of the outbreak of violence there. She’s a qualified physiotherapist stranded in the UK, willing to do care work far below her skills and training but can she get a job? She cannot. I don’t understand why not. She makes countless applications to a wide range of employers. I know several other Sudanese women - radiographers and dentists - who want to work and who could do much to rescue our ailing healthcare system but bureaucracy (or something more sinister?) disallows them :(
I come to read your pieces to help me with my own abominable losses. They are quite different from yours in that it was my mind which was effected in devastating ways that I still cannot understand in any way. I was a writer of sorts as well and similarly wrote about marginalised people trying to ge trhe or voices heard through my academic research. I handed my dissertation in seven years ago and over the next two weeks conpletely lost my mind and childhood trauma that I had thought the effects of on me as being log gone proved to be the exact opposite, it’s had effected me on the most terrible ways over the course of a life time. Shaping me into an OCD riddled little moss perfect who could never make her own voice heard or ask for help or for anything she needed. Unlike you part of my journey and part of my wrestling was always with my faith, I was always a doubter bu toast at the same time chikdhood had made me terrified of God (strangely terrofied of the certainty of this God o struggled to believe in and his disapproval of me and my more free thinking ways). Now I struggle even more. Over seven years I have become a shell of a human when o embraced life and loved it fully. I could return to work and writing and need to fkdn the strength to do it as it was so much part of me. You inspire me that that’s when you feel most aljve and maybe I would do. I never knew a perosns mjnd could turn against them in this way. Rome is an importnwnt part of my story too.
I SO feel for your ordeal. Should you be suffering from Guillain-Barre Syndrome or another dysimmune inflammatory neuropathy, I suggest you contact GAIN charity. They're excellent. I've been living with CIDP since 2006 and "adapting", the memory & loss of "what has been" and the fear of the unkown are terrible indeed. BUT there's a moment in which you find a "new normal" and learn how to cope. Extensive PT & OT, and maybe a stint as an in-patient within neurorrehab facility, can do wonders. Keep up the good work and, please, keep writing. Words are your magic, regardless of the medium. You are a word sorcerer and a world-builder. So many of us love immersing ourselves in them. Good luck!
Yes I remember the filming of ‘My son the Fanatic’ because my then husband was the Production Designer on it and we became friends with Udayan Prasad the director. It would be great to see it released again.
I wonder how you feel about being in the Telegraph Hanif - you must well and truly be part of the establishment 😉😉 I have my own issues with that newspaper as my partner is being somewhat radicalised by it… on the issue of immigration as it happens. It’s a good article though and I enjoyed reading it. I can’t wait to hear more about when I might be able to buy a ticket for the stage shows.
Dear Hanif, I read the final sentences of your interview with some despair...you are facing disability boldly but do not let 'them/anyone' put you into a box marked Disabled...you are you, wonderful thoughtful, insightful you ,Hanif, do not forget that ever, the man you always have been and will be to the end of time. You have spirit and determination, you and will never be anyone but yourself, Hanif Kurieishi, writer, thinker and more precious you are yourself.
Hanif, I feel for you and well remember the all-pervading shock of sudden disability, which only really settles with time, well that's my experience - being 41 with three children under ten in 1998. My brainstem stroke affected every muscle in my body except my eyelids. I have slowly learnt to walk and talk but remain physically and verbally disabled and have made a far better recovery than expected. I am a practising artist. Thank you for your chronicles which I look forward to every week and your positivity in doing what you love.
What a great interview. It was letting us here see a bit of a different side of you than your Substack does. For me your Substack is a way for you to process this crazy turn in your life. We get to be listeners to your ongoing struggle to find some meaning in this new upside down life. The interview on the other hand is formal, less emotional, more detached and analytical.
I loved your comment about trying the God thing. I mean, why not? But then, when I read about your desire to help fellow disabled writers, and that you felt as if your ordeal had made you a kinder person, I couldn’t help thinking of Leigh Hunt’s sweet poem “Abou Ben Adhem” and the last line which I’m sure you know:
“…and Lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.
Thank you so much for sharing all that you are going through, for trusting us all that much.
Such a good interview. I feel as if I understand your stance on religion a lot better now. Watching from close up the growth of Islamism must have been a deeply distressing thing. Agree about Salman Rushdie and the crazy efforts some of these public figures make to be even-handed, so much so that they can't condemn senseless, horrific, terrible violence when they see it. There is violence in refusing to see it for what it is. As I write this I think of other situations in our complex world where some would push for condemnation, and others for support, and then I understand more. Yet and still, no: what happened to Rushdie is only condemnable, not tolerable. I'm glad you are still feeling the support from your substack followers enough to mention it. We are still here, always interested in hearing how you are, reading your thoughts.
When my health took a sudden life changing downturn, which eventually plateaued at a much diminished place, I flailed around looking for explanations and cures which did not come.
After some years of this new life full of fear and despair, an old family friend asked me “ What has this brought you?”. I wanted to strangle her - this disaster had brought me nothing, only misery, and I didn’t fancy propping up someone else’s fanciful worldview by looking on the bright side of a calamity.
But that question sunk in, and the answers were unexpected as they slowly emerged. It did bring me something. The crap still existed, but so did this light.
Now I understand what it means to be a writer ,
Your destiny always is to be a messenger , carrying how it is from here to there , from there to here ,
I feel real gratitude that you consistently answer the call X
Always so sharp and spot on. You are truly amazing.
Inspiring to read your thoughts and hear about your experiences. Regarding the accident it’s sometimes so difficult to come to terms with it but you are the same person, same mind and spirit shining through and this is something I am sure you , your family and friends value so much as do your readers. It’s very difficult being limited by disability of physical ailments. I have sciatica now causing me bad pains at night but it’s nothing compared with the challenges you face, I realise that. What strikes me at times is the way we can find ourselves unable to tell our body what to do. It’s difficult to accept this at times and I am sure you must feel the same.
Excellent to hear about the theatre productions. And congratulations with your forthcoming book due to be published soon.
Glad to read about your progress. It certainly has tried your perseverance but that's been your strength. It sounds as if the physiotherapy, slowly and surely, is working. Keep at it! All the best.
Hi Hanif. I have a very similar injury to you. I've travelled a lot and now I've moved from the UK to California. Life is not easy, but it gets better over time. You will travel again. I'd love to write a book based on my blog at ironmess.com - let me know any tips to sit down and collate and to find a publisher. I've had so many strange experiences since my injury :)
I've been a fan since your first book was published. Many of us British Indians growing up then, reading for the first time a sharp, funny, brown writer of our generation, identified with the characters and felt like it was our story too. I felt shock and empathy for your predicament when I found this Substack of yours less than a year ago. It's amazing how good your writing still is, especially given what you are going through. I admire the sharpness and honesty of your mind and look forward to reading your posts every Saturday morning when I wake up. Sending love from SF.
‘Immigration, the NHS and an ageing population’... the holy triumvirate. I have a friend who graduated from Brighton university with a masters degree in health promotion. She has been unable to return to her home country, Sudan, because of the outbreak of violence there. She’s a qualified physiotherapist stranded in the UK, willing to do care work far below her skills and training but can she get a job? She cannot. I don’t understand why not. She makes countless applications to a wide range of employers. I know several other Sudanese women - radiographers and dentists - who want to work and who could do much to rescue our ailing healthcare system but bureaucracy (or something more sinister?) disallows them :(
I come to read your pieces to help me with my own abominable losses. They are quite different from yours in that it was my mind which was effected in devastating ways that I still cannot understand in any way. I was a writer of sorts as well and similarly wrote about marginalised people trying to ge trhe or voices heard through my academic research. I handed my dissertation in seven years ago and over the next two weeks conpletely lost my mind and childhood trauma that I had thought the effects of on me as being log gone proved to be the exact opposite, it’s had effected me on the most terrible ways over the course of a life time. Shaping me into an OCD riddled little moss perfect who could never make her own voice heard or ask for help or for anything she needed. Unlike you part of my journey and part of my wrestling was always with my faith, I was always a doubter bu toast at the same time chikdhood had made me terrified of God (strangely terrofied of the certainty of this God o struggled to believe in and his disapproval of me and my more free thinking ways). Now I struggle even more. Over seven years I have become a shell of a human when o embraced life and loved it fully. I could return to work and writing and need to fkdn the strength to do it as it was so much part of me. You inspire me that that’s when you feel most aljve and maybe I would do. I never knew a perosns mjnd could turn against them in this way. Rome is an importnwnt part of my story too.
I SO feel for your ordeal. Should you be suffering from Guillain-Barre Syndrome or another dysimmune inflammatory neuropathy, I suggest you contact GAIN charity. They're excellent. I've been living with CIDP since 2006 and "adapting", the memory & loss of "what has been" and the fear of the unkown are terrible indeed. BUT there's a moment in which you find a "new normal" and learn how to cope. Extensive PT & OT, and maybe a stint as an in-patient within neurorrehab facility, can do wonders. Keep up the good work and, please, keep writing. Words are your magic, regardless of the medium. You are a word sorcerer and a world-builder. So many of us love immersing ourselves in them. Good luck!
Yes I remember the filming of ‘My son the Fanatic’ because my then husband was the Production Designer on it and we became friends with Udayan Prasad the director. It would be great to see it released again.
I wonder how you feel about being in the Telegraph Hanif - you must well and truly be part of the establishment 😉😉 I have my own issues with that newspaper as my partner is being somewhat radicalised by it… on the issue of immigration as it happens. It’s a good article though and I enjoyed reading it. I can’t wait to hear more about when I might be able to buy a ticket for the stage shows.
Dear Hanif, I read the final sentences of your interview with some despair...you are facing disability boldly but do not let 'them/anyone' put you into a box marked Disabled...you are you, wonderful thoughtful, insightful you ,Hanif, do not forget that ever, the man you always have been and will be to the end of time. You have spirit and determination, you and will never be anyone but yourself, Hanif Kurieishi, writer, thinker and more precious you are yourself.
Hanif, I feel for you and well remember the all-pervading shock of sudden disability, which only really settles with time, well that's my experience - being 41 with three children under ten in 1998. My brainstem stroke affected every muscle in my body except my eyelids. I have slowly learnt to walk and talk but remain physically and verbally disabled and have made a far better recovery than expected. I am a practising artist. Thank you for your chronicles which I look forward to every week and your positivity in doing what you love.
What a great interview. It was letting us here see a bit of a different side of you than your Substack does. For me your Substack is a way for you to process this crazy turn in your life. We get to be listeners to your ongoing struggle to find some meaning in this new upside down life. The interview on the other hand is formal, less emotional, more detached and analytical.
I loved your comment about trying the God thing. I mean, why not? But then, when I read about your desire to help fellow disabled writers, and that you felt as if your ordeal had made you a kinder person, I couldn’t help thinking of Leigh Hunt’s sweet poem “Abou Ben Adhem” and the last line which I’m sure you know:
“…and Lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.
Thank you so much for sharing all that you are going through, for trusting us all that much.