Anand writes in response to Keki Daruwalla's "Coming to terms with history" (Literary Review, May 7), a review of Alok Bhalla's Partition Dialogues: Memories of a Lost Home.THE sentence "... Urvashi Butalia's graphic recording of women involved in the Partition... " was a big surprise. For me, if you are involved in a situation or activity, it means that you are taking part in it, or you give a lot of time, effort, or attention to it. And, of course, one person can be involved with another, especially someone they are not married to. Butalia's book is about women who were victims of the Partition madness, who suffered unbelievable, sometimes indescribable, atrocities. Such sloppy usage of the word by a poet disappointed me. But my bigger concern is about a certain insensitiveness, shown in calling `victims' of the Partition as those `involved in the Partition'. That points to a general apathy about Partition fiction. The victims of the Partition were, in large part, those who spoke Punjabi, Urdu and Hindi. The best literature on the subject, therefore, is mainly in these three languages. There are some books in Gujarati too. The reviewer goes on to say that he is "no fan of Partition fiction". He can't be blamed, because he has not read some of the best works. For example, Rahi Massom Raza's Adha Gaon (published by Penguin in English as A Village Divided), or Shani's Kala Jal. He failed to mention Pinjar by Amrita Pritam first published in Punjabi, which is about a Hindu woman left behind in Pakistan by her fleeing family. Urdu has, among others novels, Aziz Ahmed's Gurez, and Aangan by Khadija Mastur. River of Fire by Qurratulain Hyder, for which the grande dame of Urdu literature had to leave Pakistan, touches upon the tragedy of the Partition.Maybe the victims of the Partition were cursed by the bad luck that they did not speak English. Maybe they would have written about their horrifying experiences in English, and thus avoided some of the apathy about their misfortune.And maybe the learned reviewer would have found another writer's comment that "... each writer wants to be correct and impartial, too busy showing the good, bad and the ugly in both Hindus and Muslims, to get down to writing a decent novel" less inspiring had he read Yashpal's Hindi novel Jhutha Sach. Bhisham Sahni, widely respected for his Tamas, which is also about the `profound rupture in the civilisation of the subcontinent,' once wrote that all his writing on the Partition was nothing more than a footnote to Yashpal's Jhutha Sach.Some facts about Jhutha Sach. Two immensely popular Hindi serials on Doordarshan in the 1980s, "Buniyaad" and "Hum Log", credited with having started the craze for television serials, mined the mother lode of Jhutha Sach blatantly for stories about individuals and families dislocated in the chaos of the Partition. And Dawn, Pakistan's national English daily, was the first to publish an article on Yashpal's centenary in 2003, before anything was published in any language in India. And how Jhutha Sach — just because it dared to tell the truth about the Partition — was passed over for the 1960 Sahitya Akademi Award is a revelation about the Nehru-era New Delhi. It was a bit surprising, to say the least, that Daruwala failed to mention Jhutha Sach. He claims that he belongs to Lucknow, the city where Yashpal lived and wrote all his books.The issue, obviously, is not one of oversight. It is about people making sweeping statements about literature they have read only a tad. About people divorced from the native soil writing about sons (and daughters) of soil. Imagine writing about Malayalam literature without mentioning G. Sankara Kurup. Or what would Tamil fiction be without Kalki?