Location: British Consulate in Karachi

Image of British Consulate in Karachi from Google Images

Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie follows five very different but intertwined characters: Isma, Aneeka, Paravaiz, Eamonn, and Karamt, who shape the novel. The story unfolds through the lives of the Pasha siblings, British Muslims living in London. Their lives intersect with Eamonn Lone, the son of a prominent British Muslim politician, Karamat Lone. With someone with a Muslim background working in a government and country that fears those who are Muslim, Karamat embodies the tensions and contradictions of a life with multiple worlds. As Aneeka mentions, once Karamat got appointed, “He has to prove he’s one of them, not one of us, doesn’t he? As if he hasn’t already” (Shamsie 35). During the story of Home Fire, it is apparent that Karamat physically lost his son due to a suicide bombing incident. However, before physically losing his son, his relationship with his son was already dissolving. “So this was what heartbreak felt like. Karamat acknowledged it, allowed it, arms dangling helplessly from his side. Personal animus. That was an arrow dipped in a poison only those closest to him could know to use. . . It was Eamonn who mixed the poison, fired the arrow. He knew it to be a lie, he knew that of all lies it was the one that would hurt his father the most, he knew that once he’d said it he gave carte blanche to every one of Karamt Lone’s political opponents to repeat the claim.” (Shamsie 259). Towards the end of the book, it is shown that Karamat has a slight change in heart about his actions to dissolve the relationship between him and his son, almost regretting what he said. “So he concentrated on that. On breathing; on holding his daughter’s hand. On remembering that there was no correlation between evil and competence. On thinking how he could emerge from this a hero, the party leadership in his grasp. Then back to breathing, back to holding his daughter’s hand. . . Karamat glanced at hs watch. His son was there now, in Karachi. He cleared his throat. ‘Terry, there’s something . . .’” (Shamsie 273).

Grief and Mourning throughout the Centuries (Kyle Chew)