Awais Reza is a shopkeeper in Lahore's Anarkali Bazaar -- the largest open market in South Asia -- whose labyrinthine streets teem with shoppers, rickshaws, and cacophonous music. But Anarkali's exuberant hubbub cannot conceal the fact that Pakistan is a country at the edge of a precipice. In recent years, the easy sociability that had once made up this vibrant community has been replaced with doubt and fear. Old-timers like Awais, who inherited his shop from his father and hopes one day to pass it on to his son, are being shouldered aside by easy money, discount stores, heroin peddlers, and the tyranny of fundamentalists. Every night before Awais goes to bed, he plugs in his cell phone and hopes. He hopes that the city will not be plunged into a blackout, that the night will remain calm, that the following morning will bring affluent and happy customers to his shop and, most of all, that his three sons will safely return home. Each of the boys, though, has a very different vision of their, and Pakistan's, future. The Bargain from the Bazaar -- the product of eight years of field research -- is an intimate window onto ordinary middle-class lives caught in the maelstrom of a nation falling to pieces. It's an absolutely compelling portrait of a family at risk -- from a violently changing world on the outside and a growing terror from within.
Haroon K. Ullah is Chief Strategy Officer for the Broadcasting Board of Governors. A former senior advisor to the U.S. Secretary of State, with a special portfolio on digital transmedia strategy and countering violent extremism, he is an award-winning author and Peabody TV Award recipient, an Adjunct Professor at Georgetown University, and a term member of the Council on Foreign Relations.
A few months back, I bestowed on H.M. Naqvi’s 2009 novel Home Boy the honour of being the most patronizing book I had ever read. In retrospect, I can see I might have been too hasty in my judgment, because Home Boy has now been delegated to the second position. In its place stands The Bargain From the Bazaar by Haroon K. Ullah, a book filled with such ridiculously high levels of bad storytelling, superior condescension and lack of character building that it seems to take bad writing to new, as yet unsurpassed, lengths.
This is a sad thing on its own, because the subject matter is interesting in a slightly outdated way. Pakistani politics, religion, terrorism: all of these have been done to death, but it is in the newer, more creative ways of discussing the same thing over and over again that literature can bring us the greatest joy. Sadly enough, this book, pitched as creative non-fiction, is as far away from being creative as it is possible to be.
The Summary
Awais would listen respectfully to his elders but early on developed the habit of forming his own opinions, taking his own counsel. In that sense, he was very much his father’s son.
Awais Reza is the hero of our tale, a man who zooms through a whole childhood, all his teenage years and a slap-dash marriage within the first nine pages. And that is because it is not Awais that we are really interested in. For the author, it is Awais’s three sons that provide the playing field for all the ideas that the author wishes to stuff inside this book. Salman, the oldest, goes through a pseudo-rebellious phase as a druggie before reforming himself so easily it’s as if never happened. Kamran, the golden child, can do no wrong with his scholarships and his smart girlfriend. Daniyal, the extremist, has no concerns other than his religion and his desire to destroy the ‘infidels’.
The case of Awais Reza was another example of the state going after the defenceless little guy so it could look as if it were hitting hard at Pakistan’s free-ranging militants without actually having to take on the bully boys who knew how to shoot back.
Daniyal’s excessively religious habits lead to suspicions cast on him, which leads to Awais getting arrested, which leads to the author gleefully expounding on and on about the injustice of society and how horrible everyone is, from the government to the politicians to the extremists. And while that in itself could have been excused, what makes everything fall apart is how flimsy the handling is. Things move slower than normal, characters are two-dimensional caricatures, the dialogue is flat and unemotional, and even in a summary I can’t make it sound interesting. It just all falls apart.
The Bad
With faith, discipline and selfless devotion to duty, there is nothing worthwhile that you cannot achieve – Mohammad Ali Jinnah, Quaid-e-Azam
This book makes a mistake right at the beginning with its use of clichéd quotes. Each chapter starts with a passage from a famous speech, a Quranic ayat or lines of translated poetry; each and every person quoted is someone illustrious, someone well-known and most importantly, someone involved in politics and/or religion. In some cases, this could be brilliant: real-life figures and their sayings provided as a counterpoint to a fictional narrative could, maybe, if done well, provide an interesting parallel, a sort of real-life attachment to the story. In this novel, the quotes manage to come off not only as hackneyed and unoriginal, they also contribute nothing to the story except for a dry textbook feeling.
Which leads us to our next major problem: this novel might be masquerading as creative non-fiction, but in reality, it is nothing more than a boring history lesson wrapped into a weak attempt of a plot. And not just any history lesson, but the kind where the professor’s voice drones on and on during a hot afternoon as you stare out of the window, bored, feeling time drip by slowly.
It is uncertain exactly how and when the renowned Anarkali bazaar first came to be a popular trading and retail center. It is likely that distant settlers used the spot as a convenient marketplace, and the venue simply persisted and expanded over the years. There are clear historical references to the bazaar going back at least two centuries.
There are facts piled on facts about Pakistan’s past, about the subcontinent’s partition, about Anarkali bazaar in Lahore, about Pakistani youth and Pakistani politics and Pakistani terrorists. It is information that doesn’t help move the story forward, doesn’t help us connect with the characters, doesn’t do much of anything, actually. And while loads of other authors have talked about events such as partition, the difference between a writer and a history professor is that the writer must be able to make one feel something, even if it is described within two pages (case in point: Bapsi Sidhwa’s The Pakistani Bride, which within one scene — that of migrants forced to pee on top of a moving train — manages to describe all the horrors of partition).
Even when the story gets back to the characters, it manages to remain dry and dull, fully following the Tell, don’t Show aspect of storytelling. We are told exactly what each character is like, what their likes and dislikes are, what traits they possess. This is reading from a distance, slogging through sentences that feel stilted and awkward.
She was a sweet-natured and industrious student with a strong will to success, determined to make her parents proud and to help her family survive the harsh conditions of post-Partition Pakistan.
There is also no complexity to the characters. We are literally introduced to the religious brother when he becomes religious. There is no background, no talk of growing up. He’s suddenly radicalized and we should just accept it at face value. What was he like as a boy? What led to his slow radicalization? For that, there are no answers.
Daniyal Reza, who came of age during this era, was typical of the young men who became deeply involved in Islam, encouraged by a group of extreme-minded religious students. It wasn’t long before he joined a madressah in Lahore headed by a fiery, proselytizing mullah.
Which is a shame because something this book could have done brilliantly was to discuss how three boys growing up in the same household with the same parents ended up so different. That would have been creative non-fiction worth reading. Instead, we get stock characters, type casted into the roles the book requires. The flaw in this book and its argument rests on a very fundamental level: that of a lack of complexity. Extremists are excessively evil with no doubts or regrets; the educated people are smart and ‘modern’ and understand religion better than anyone. All these attempts at pigeonholing make me worried about how these characters affect the reader, when there is so much bad to wade through to get to the good.
The Good
One must look carefully and closely to find the good in this cesspit of a novel, but of course careful perusal of any text will produce something of worth. It’s like that story about a literature class where the professor explains how a writer’s depiction of blue curtains is representative of the writer’s deep sadness. My point being, if you look hard enough, a positive spin can be given to everything, and my assessment of this novel is no exception.
“I do not disagree that a pious life is disagreeable, but extreme religious views are contrary to Allah’s wishes.” “What is ‘extreme’ about obeying God?” “God can be obeyed in many ways. Sometimes people go too far, beyond what Allah asks of us.”
Sometimes, for example, the book veers on track almost by accident and starts talking about what the blurb actually promised us. It takes us to the heart of the middle class family, and the basic division that divides a nation: the idea of religion, and how far to take its teachings. Most middle class families in Pakistan pursue Islam but to an extent, and most middle class family members will tell you that they are against violence, that they do not believe in the jihad of the terrorists and that they are horrified by the actions of a select few in the name of Islam.
For the weary people of Pakistan such as Awais and Shez Raza, it no longer mattered who took responsibility for the killings. Sudden death and destruction had become as common as the bribes paid to survive. The people were used to disaster.
This sort of representation of the citizen who is sick and tired of the constant turmoil in the country, who just wants to make a living and raise happy, content children, is the best part of the book. It slips in quietly in between the story, paying homage to the reality of living in Pakistan.
“It is not Islam we should blame. It is the way certain people of questionable goodness use religion as a weapon to gain control over the masses. It’s really an old, old story and is found in cultures throughout history. Religion itself scares people and can be a powerful tool of oppression and intimidation.”
Of course, it’s hard to decide whether all the parts that are good deserve to be considered good. For example, on the one hand this book provides a lot of history, which, you know, yay, information, knowledge! But here’s the crux: most of the history is about Pakistan: its emergence, its bazaars, its people. Every Pakistani child knows this already, which begs the question: just who is the audience supposed to be here?
Recommendation
Awais was released, but he was a changed man, his soul having been damaged by the very government he’d risked his life to upload. There was a grotesque irony about the business.
This kind of subtle placement of phrases and words, the pointing out of the ‘grotesque irony’ assumes in the reader a lack of the ability to contextualize. Not only does this book pretend to speak from a place of superior intellect, it’s also moralistic and didactic in a wearying way and does a disservice to the reader in its assumption that the audience is dumb. Also, it’s like slogging through the longest history class ever. For all intents and purposes, this book fails in its purpose to entertain or engage. My suggestion? Skip it.
***
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Creative nonfiction that focuses on explaining the plight of us non-Western folk to the Western audience has been in fashion for a long time. There was Three Cups of Tea, which charts one white man’s mission to singlehandedly save Afghanistan and Pakistan by opening schools. There was Behind the Beautiful Forevers, a commercial and critical success about the residents of a Mumbai slum. The Bargain from the Bazaar written by Haroon K. Ullah is the latest work written in the same vein, albeit with several differences. It explores issues faced by the middle class of the country as opposed to the class which lives in abject poverty, which is a refreshing change. It also helps that it is written by a Pakistani American – someone whose own Pakistani heritage offsets some of the paternalistic “wise Westerner shedding light on the mysteries of the non-Western culture” attitude that is inherent in this sort of nonfiction. Written as an amalgam of history, novelistic storytelling and anthropological study, The Bargain from the Bazaar charts the lives of an “ordinary, middle class family” living in the midst of the chaos and violence of contemporary Pakistan.
According to the author’s note, The Bargain from the Bazaar is a result of eight years of field research and Haroon K. Ullah’s relationship with a Pakistani family. It is based on in-depth interviews with this family, as well as with other Pakistanis. It is clear that the author has spent a remarkable amount of time researching the story. The head of the family, Awez is a veteran of the 1971 war and now runs a jewelry shop in Anarkali Bazaar, Lahore. His wife works as a nurse and of their three sons, one is an opium addict, one is training to become a lawyer and the third is training to become a terrorist. The first half of the book outlines the historical background of Pakistan as well the history of the Reza family, and the story gradually picks up as Daniyal, the youngest son, becomes increasingly extreme in his religious views and eventually joins a Taliban-affiliated madarsa, embroiling the whole family into a web of terror and violence.
I understand what Haroon K. Ullah is trying to do here. Attempting to understand the social, economic and religious conflicts of Pakistan through the prism of an ordinary family’s experiences and struggles is an interesting idea. It is all the more admirable because it helps the West understand Pakistan on a more human level, in contrast to most of the discourse in the West surrounding Pakistan, which focuses more on geopolitics and terrorism. It also reflects the truth that most moderate, ordinary Pakistanis are as appalled by the growing religious fanaticism in the country as people on the outside are. And the idea of two brothers growing up in the same house and heading into such different directions is an apt metaphor for the growing struggle between religion and modernism in Pakistan.
The problem is that the book offers no fresh analysis or insight into these issues, which might have been helpful to us Pakistanis. It caters exclusively to a Western audience. To a Pakistani, there is nothing in this book that we didn’t already know. Having a Western audience in mind may not necessarily be a flaw. It is important, I’d imagine, that ordinary Americans learn more about the country which is the United States’ most important regional ally in the War on Terror. But it does beg the question of why Pakistanis should pick up this book. For a Pakistani, a lot of the explanation of the details of our cultures and traditions becomes ingratiating after a certain point. Lassi, the book tells us, is “a yoghurt-milk drink which tastes like a tangy milkshake.” It is also the “white wine of the East.” Many of the terms just don’t ring true to Pakistani society. The boys go to “high school,” a girl wears a “gown” to somebody’s wedding and one person refers to the Quran as “al-Quran.” There were also certain times where the author treats his subjects with condescension. When recounting the past of Shez, the mother of the family, the author mentions that she had an American pen pal who was not only teaching her English but also giving her “a sense of a wider world,” a statement which makes it hard to ignore the implication that a young woman from Pakistan must be woefully ignorant about the world until an American would bestow her with the knowledge she needs.
More significant than the awkward phrasing, Americanized explanations and occasional condescension is the fact that the book as a whole does not work well together. Events of the Reza family’s lives are abruptly broken up with longwinded history lessons or meandering asides about politics or religion. And while you can’t expect the people present in a nonfiction work to be as well-developed as fictional characters, these people are nothing more than vehicles through which the author can expound on his sociopolitical commentary. The characters don’t talk unless it is to comment on current events or politics and even then the dialogue is stilted and wooden. Even the terrorists say clichéd things like “Eliminating the infidel, that is our task.”
So while The Bargain in the Bazaar is well-intentioned and probably useful for an American reader, for us Pakistanis it does not work either as a work of anthropology or as a narrative.
First, I don't really like the title. The Bazaar is a significant part of the setting, but there's no real bargain that's struck there. And while there's a significant day in the life of the family at the end, I'm not sure that was really the day of reckoning for them.
So, titling issues aside.
This is a non-fiction book about a Pakistani family in which the 3 grown sons take very different paths as adults. I learned a little about the history of Pakistan and was able to sympathize with most of the characters (all but the one who is connected to the Taliban). It illustrates some of the difficulties in making change in this country in which the military and extreme Islam both have influence.
This is a classic guide how not to write about Pakistan, its culture and society. First i didn't understand the genre of this book. I randomly started it as novel. I was expecting some good or unique narrative. The introduction states high claims of field research and in depth interviews with all kind people form street vendors to taliban handlers to agency people. But the information presented is so superficial, so ordinary, so cliched that it seems the author never visited Pakistan.
This book written for naive western readers for highly distorted and cliched picture of Pakistani society.
I didn't know how I would like this book. The initial chapters were awkward as each were introduced with a history lesson of sorts. Overall the plot was average. The novel obviously had a point to make but it would have been much more persuasive if the story spoke for itself, instead of the commentary was forcefully integrated. However the true flaws of this book lie within its characters and the dialogue. And the dialogue, itself contributes to the flatness of the characters. Each seemed to have purpose in the commentary and that purpose is very thinly veiled, if at all. Beyond this purpose, the characters seem to have nothing else. It is extremely blunt and so the characters seem to truly contribute very little to the overall story. The biggest issue I have found with this book is the dialogue. The dialogue was unnaturally; it was formal but colloquialisms were woven, making the it just weird. I appreciate the motivation and the intent of the book, but it gets lost through the faults of storytelling. I received this book through the Goodreads giveaways.
Really enjoyed reading about this family in Pakistan. The author says that the story was culled from years of research and interviews, and it certainly has feels true-to-life, but I wonder how he got some of his information. In any case, this portrayal was interesting and engaging.
Bargain from the Bazaar is an interesting story told in a very uninteresting way. While reading it, I did empathize with the characters and worried about them because I knew that the story was partially real. However, the author manages to squander that easy, basic connection you should feel to characters based on real people by writing them as if they were cardboard talking points. All emotional reactions are brushed over to keep moving forward with the story and the dialogue is awkward and repetitive. The conclusion does not make sense and made me realize just how shallow the novel is. It's all the more disappointing because there are real lives behind this text, but maybe this just was not the right way to tell their story.
This book provides interesting perspective on Pakistani history and the rise of Islamic extremism through the madrassa, but the dialogue was stilted and I found myself wishing it was a long-form Atlantic article, not a full-length attempt at creative nonfiction.
This is a powerful and moving story of a Pakistani family living in Lahore and trying to make sense of the political and societal upheavals in that most turbulent of countries, contemporary Pakistan. Awais Reza is a shopkeeper in the city’s Anarkali Bazaar, part of a vibrant community which is gradually being eroded by forces from both within and without. He hopes to pass on his jewellery business to his sons just as his own father passed it on to him, but the world is changing, and not one of his three sons is content, or indeed able, to carry on with the old ways. The terror and violence of life in Pakistan affects the whole family. The tension between democracy and religion, law and fundamentalism, western influences and the drug culture, set against patriarchal middle-class life, and against a background of America’s war on terror, plus the troubled recent history of the country are vividly portrayed in this highly readable and engaging narrative. The author’s empathy for and profound knowledge of everyday life and the struggles of ordinary people, plus his understanding of the political situation, combined with his skill at characterisation and storytelling, make this an unusual and enlightening portrayal of a society few westerners know much about, as we are rarely able to relate to the human story behind the headlines. Ullah is never judgemental and shows great empathy for all his characters, although he does occasionally use them as mouthpieces for his own views and ideas, which sometimes slows the action and gives the reader a sense of being lectured to. But overall this is a vivid window into an alien world and one which gives the reader a deeper understanding of life in Pakistan today.
This book is the true story of a middle-class Pakistani family in contemporary Lahore whose lives are suddenly upended by the political turmoil which has swept over the country in recent years. While this is a nonfiction work the story is essentially constructed as a novel and offers a great insight into the lives of ordinary Pakistanis, beyond the headlines.
The book is enthralling, an absolute pageturner, I finished it in just two sittings and was thoroughly entertained and moved by it in the end. From a personal standpoint I recognized many of the places in Lahore depicted in the book, and the description of actual events which took place there in recent years was pretty gut-wrenching to read (I'm being circumspect about what those events are so as not to spoil it).
The author says the story is based on his own research and interviews conducted over several years, as well as the relationship he developed with this family over that time. Accordingly, it would've been nice to see some sourcing and substantiation because the events are quite incredible. Also I was confused by the repeated insinuations that the Pakistani Taliban is being funded through Tehran, something which is counterintuitive to say the least (their biggest victims tend to be Shias and their Wahhabi Islam is virulently hostile to Iran). If it is true based on his research, the proof should really be disclosed for such innuendo.
Having said that, this is a great read; highly entertaining and quite moving. It offers a window into the lives of real Pakistanis and is an emotionally compelling and enthralling story in its own right. A recommended read for everyone.
I received this book as an advance copy from Goodreads First reads. Based on the true story of the Reza family of Lahore,Pakistan, The Bargain from the Bazaar offers up a glimpse of life for an ordinary family in the midst of political turmoil, fundamentalist furor, and the constant threat of terrorist attacks. Within the story, one receives somewhat of an abridged history lesson on Pakistan, as well as an understanding of what the Pakistani people feel, believe and yearn for, from many different sides, be it fundamentalist Islamist, Moderate, middle-class merchants, democratic-minded university students, the military and the law makers. I thoroughly enjoyed the pace of the story, as well as the twists and turns that pop up every so often. I would highly recommend this book to any who are interested in current affairs, politics or history, as well as those who would like to have a better understanding of what the Pakistani people must deal with on a day to day basis. The story jumps quickly from one character and their part in the story to another in rapid pace; I found this enjoyable, as it added to the already chaotic nature of the story. I am interested in reading more from Haroon K. Ullah.
I received an ARC through Goodreads. --- I would give it 3.5 stars.
I just finished this book this morning. All I can say is wow.
The first portion of the book was filled with some background information of the history and politics in Pakistan. They were interesting but a little confusing to try and follow and the transition between this and the Reza family's story was a little abrupt.
The rest of the book was mostly told from the perspectives of the Reza family and quite honestly they are all fascinating in their own way. It's interesting how the events going on in Pakistan influenced each member of the family in different ways. Especially, how 2 turned out to be good citizens and 1 turned into a fanatic. It certainly was interesting to see into the mind frame of those who bring about terror and how they have been able to accomplish so much that they would deem a "success". Also, this story gives us a brief glimpse into the struggle and growth of a teetering nation and it's lack of stability.
Overall, most of the book was an interesting read.
The Bargain from the Bazaar: A Family's Day of Reckoning in Lahore is a poignant and evocative story of a family living in modern day Pakistan. Set against the bustling backdrop of the Anarkali bazaar, Ullah conveys the fear, and struggle of the Reza family who represent an amalgam of typical Pakistani concerns: making enough money to stay in the middle class, pressures from Islamic extremists, love for Allah, gaining an education, fear of terrorist attacks. Ullah touches on the history and politics of the country without getting preachy, or bogged down in extraneous details. Instead, he has written a portrait of one family and through this lens is able to examine (and let the reader examine) life in Pakistan. Written in a clear uncomplicated style and full of vivid details, The Bargain from the Bazaar would be a great place for readers interested in learning more about Pakistan to start.
I was really hoping to like this novel. The premise sounded very intriguing, a great way to portray a window into the everyday life of another culture. It started off well but was hard to get into. It was a bit of a slog actually. The characters were well-drawn and unique, but there was a sort of didactic heaviness to the message the author is clearly trying to portray. I don't like being told outright to feel a certain way. I did keep going though and finished it. I particularly liked the description of the market scenes and senses , and the author's ability to scale up that scene into and explanation of the country's politics at large. I am glad I read it, and definitely gained an insight into the lives of an ordinary family in Pakistan.
I received this book from the Goodreads First Reads giveaway program - thanks!
Mr. Ullah spent eight years interviewing Pakistanis from different regional, economic and social groups in order to understand Pakistan as it is to every day, middle class people, as opposed to the power elite we read about in the newspapers. He put many of the stories and the characters into a narrative about the Reza family and their jewelry stall in the Anarkali market in Lahore. The plot is like a mystery and unfolds like a movie to a climax that is a vehicle for Mr. Ullah's take on the 'modern' Pakistan, which is anything but.
While the characters seem a little stiff, I would contend that the middle class family dialogue in India and Pakistan might seem that way to Western ears, but while they might not be memorable, their situation and what they struggle with should stay with the reader.
Amidst the political and economic chaos of Pakistan are people like the Reza family attempting to lead an ordinary life just like the rest of us. The Bargain from the Bazaar does an excellent job of providing a story behind the headlines that Pakistan seems to be in so often these days. This book makes it personal - behind any headlines are so many stories like this one if we but take the time to understand.
This book presented a somewhat engaging story, so I read it quickly and with considerable interest, but the writing was so bad that I feel embarrassed for having finished it. The dialogues were especially jarring. People not so much spoke to one another, as uttered pronouncements, even in the most mundane of situation. Nobody speaks that way. It was so unnatural, it sent shivers down my spine. If felt like a book written as a class assignment in high-school by a B- student. I'm planning to avoid that author in the future.
I enjoyed this book and learned from it, but I want to know more - about Pakistan's history, culture and politics. I think that alone is the sign of a good book. It is said to be based on extensive research and interviews, and true events. But I wonder how much is true, and how much was creative license. There are some parts of the story that are not fully developed, but overall it is a fascinating and fast-paced book. I agree with the reviewer who wondered about the significance of the title.
This is an incredibly fascinating insight into the inner workings of life through the eyes of a Pakistani family.
This true story is extremely well written and a gripping read. It is probably the best book I have read in this genre... ever! (no joke) I was enthralled from the very first paragraph!
This book has some amazing reviews from highly credible sources, and they are very well deserved.
I received this from a good reads giveaway. I liked reading about everyday life in Pakistan and what a family goes through day to day in the country. The beginning was slow, and as it picked up, the plot got hot real fast then cooled just as quickly. Glad I read it, but not the best written book.
My reaction to this valiant effort by Mr. Ullah is 3.5 stars.(Free copy received from the author & Goodreads.) The first third of this relatively brief story left me more confused than enlightened, but the remaining two thirds were excellent. Mr. Ullah has a reasonably deft touch describing modern day family life and politics in Pakistan.
A realistic and somewhat tragic story of a family living in Lahore, Pakistan. There are two intertwined stories, one of the family, and the other of some suicide bombers. It's well written and shows how even the best families can have black sheep among them.
I enjoyed this simply told story of life in Pakistan, post-9/11. The fact that the author is a Whitman grad made it even more enjoyable. The subtitle, "A Family's Day of Reckoning in Lahore" states the biographical aspect of the story but the insight into the jihadist mindset was enlightening.
Book serves to narrate the average family life in Pakistan in the times when insurgency was brewing. I particularly took liking for the characters and the way their lives go about. It's a nice read overall.
I received this one from Netgalley, but I wasn't able to fairly rate or review this book. There were too many formatting errors for me to read through it. It was missing multiple letter combinations such as "th", "ll", "ff", "ffl", etc.
WEll I thought it was an excellent book. The main players could have been a bit more fleshed out but on the whole I truly enjoyed reading about a Pakistani family. It was an eye opener to read about how other ppl live in this world.