India, Aug. 29 -- What makes a mem-oir special? It is often the author's experiences: the people they meet and positions they hold, all of which allow readers a rare peek into a life and its times. Occasionally, an individual's life unfolds alongside a nation's defining moments, and their memoir transcends the personal to become a testament to history. Urdu poet, wrestler and bureaucrat Kanwar Mohinder Singh Bedi 'Sahar''s Yaadon Ka Jashn (1983), ably translated by Kamna Prasad as A Celebration of Memories, falls squarely in this category. The contemporary reader unaware of the radically different world of pre-Independence India could possibly be taken aback that the memoirist was once in charge of a government department titled National War Front, meant to garner the support of Indians for the British during World War 2. How did a pro-peace and anti-war crusader occupy such a position, even if he did use most of his resources to promote Hindu-Muslim unity? Perhaps memoirs, especially those set in the not-so-distant historical past, are interesting precisely because they challenge our presentism and ideas of chronological snobbery. A professional administrator, Bedi navigated the worlds of district magistrates and viceroys with fragile egos, even as he rubbed shoulders with figures such as Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru. A secularist who penned evocative na'ats or poems in praise of Prophet Mohammad. and made sure the Ramleela was held in Delhi on the very first Diwali after independence, he also ensured that the procession commemorating Guru Tegh Bahadur's martyrdom passed through Old Delhi during namaz time without sparking unrest. Bedi kept his passion for Urdu poetry alive even as he navigated the labyrinthine corridors of Indian bureaucracy. At mushairas, he disseminated his pro-peace, anti-war and anti-communal ideals, often soothing those looking for an escape from reality in the wake of Partition. He also writes about other prominent personalities who were part of the subcontinent's Urdu poetry circles of the period. Faiz Ahmed Faiz once wrote a qasida (ode) addressed to Bedi, which the latter calls a "masterpiece". Josh Malihabadi and Sahir Hoshiarpuri are remembered fondly. A few others are not. The poet Naqshab never returned money borrowed at Bedi's behest and how the latter chose to deal with this makes for an interesting anecdote. He reminisces too about punching a bus driver who refused to transport refugees during the Partition riots. Then, there's the interesting chapter titled Eminent Personalities that focuses on his interactions with mid-20th-century celebrities such as Dilip Kumar, Sunil Dutt, Nargis, Meena Kumari, Muhammad Ali and Mohammad Rafi. The book, published a year before the assassination of Indira Gandhi, made no mention of the 1984 anti-Sikh riots. However, in his introduction to this English translation, Bedi's grandson Ashwajit Singh writes: "The man who had spent his entire life preaching secularism had to be ridden in the back seat of a car and smuggled out of his Greater Kailash home to safety. Even champions of insaaniyat are not immune to humanity's failures." The memoir also does not mention Bedi's wife Sohinder Kaur, to whom Singh dedicates a section in the introduction, in an attempt to correct the omission. If Bedi lived in an alternate world writing shayaris and nazms, Kaur was the practical force in the marriage. This must have been trying at times, especially as Bedi, ever generous, often allowed young, aspiring poets to live in the annexe of his house. This is a remarkable book. In the end, the reader is left wondering how much worse the horrors of Partition might have been without individuals like Bedi who made such active efforts to foster communal harmony. If his is not a life worthy of a jashn - or perhaps several jashns - whose is?...