WHEN Gurdial Singh set out to write, he did not expect the Jnanpith. He wrote because it was "a neurotic need". Wrote, because if he didn't, he'd have "exploded". But today, Singh finds himself caught in an ironic cusp. Renowned Hindi writer Nirmal Verma's co-awardee this year, this first generation literate, the son of an impoverished carpenter, finds himself both applauded and criticised for having presumed so far. Well-wishers there are many, but others in the Hindi and dominantly Punjabi-Jat mainstream feel that Singh's oeuvre does not, as yet, deserve such felicitation.