Jahane Rumi

The popularity of Internet as a medium and the personal space it provides to the diaspora is evident from the growing number of Urdu related websites outside Pakistan.

I receive regular emails introducing new online sources of news and views related to Pakistan, Urdu and Islam. I am listing a few below.

First, is the Iqbal Academy based in Europe. That Iqbal is being seriously debated or even considered relevant and that too abroad is quite encouraging.

The website states:

Iqbal Study Group was formed by young Muslim students of various universities in Copenhagen. They sought our patronage, to which we agreed. Since then we have been helping them to know Iqbal as much as possible and attending their each and every session. During the month of November 2005 two historic events were organized by us, in which The Director Iqbal Academy Pakistan personally participated. His report in Urdu published in Pakistan and Denmark.

Iqbal Academy Scandinavia was formed in 2002 and formally inaugurated on 30th, August, 2003.

There is another news-site Inqelaab, that is based in Italy. Inqelaab brings together news from Pakistan as well as Europe (on Pakistanis there).

And news from the Gujrat district in the centre of Punjab province are carried by Gujratlink. Given that most of the Pakistanis in Norway are from a particular sub-district of Gujrat, this is not surprising. There is surely a readership, I suspect a thriving one.

Mr Chohan from Greece publishes a news-site called the Ujala. This site covers news from Pakistan, local (Greece-related) events relevant for Pakistanis and also reports from the diaspora in Austria.

Finally the London based Al-Qamar, edited by a well known writer Safdar Hamdani. On this site, Safdar Hamdani writes a column on various issues and I trust has a wide readership on the Internet.

Not bad…

P.S. Totally unrelated, but the readers might like to visit this link to a Lucknow based Urdu e-newspaper called Lashkar. This information appeared on the same email list…..

The popularity of Internet as a medium and the personal space it provides to the diaspora is evident from the growing number of Urdu related websites outside Pakistan.

I receive regular emails introducing new online sources of news and views related to Pakistan, Urdu and Islam. I am listing a few below.

First, is the Iqbal Academy based in Europe. That Iqbal is being seriously debated or even considered relevant and that too abroad is quite encouraging.

The website states:

Iqbal Study Group was formed by young Muslim students of various universities in Copenhagen. They sought our patronage, to which we agreed. Since then we have been helping them to know Iqbal as much as possible and attending their each and every session. During the month of November 2005 two historic events were organized by us, in which The Director Iqbal Academy Pakistan personally participated. His report in Urdu published in Pakistan and Denmark.

Iqbal Academy Scandinavia was formed in 2002 and formally inaugurated on 30th, August, 2003.

There is another news-site Inqelaab, that is based in Italy. Inqelaab brings together news from Pakistan as well as Europe (on Pakistanis there).

And news from the Gujrat district in the centre of Punjab province are carried by Gujratlink. Given that most of the Pakistanis in Norway are from a particular sub-district of Gujrat, this is not surprising. There is surely a readership, I suspect a thriving one.

Mr Chohan from Greece publishes a news-site called the Ujala. This site covers news from Pakistan, local (Greece-related) events relevant for Pakistanis and also reports from the diaspora in Austria.

Finally the London based Al-Qamar, edited by a well known writer Safdar Hamdani. On this site, Safdar Hamdani writes a column on various issues and I trust has a wide readership on the Internet.

Not bad…

P.S. Totally unrelated, but the readers might like to visit this link to a Lucknow based Urdu e-newspaper called Lashkar. This information appeared on the same email list…..

Hey i saw you in my Blog http://www.risingpakistan.wordpress.com , i planned to visit your blog and it is great.

by Sadia Dehlvi

I Love Delhi, for it is the city of my birth and it is my prayer that I may die here, that my mortal remains should mingle with the earth in whose bosom my ancestors lie. More importantly, Delhi is the ground where my beloved Sufis walked upon and chose as their final resting place. While the sultans of Delhi were writing the political destiny of most of India, the Sufi scholars were engrossed in keeping the flame of spiritual enlightenment burning in their khanqahs. These ‘auliya’ or ‘friends of God’ taught that true worship is service to humanity, regardless of religion, race and region.

Baghdad was the centre of Sufis in the ninth century. The 13th century saw the Mongols in Central Asia making Islam the victim of their barbarism. Thousands of people were massacred; mosques burnt and learning centres were destroyed. Among those who escaped were innumerous Sufis and a large number of them made Delhi their home.

Delhi thus became the centre of Islamic studies and mysticism by the end of the 13th century. Both historians and citizens began to refer to Delhi as Hazrat-e-Dilli,  Dilli Sharif, Dar-ul-Auliya, Baghdad-e-Hind and Khurd-e-Mecca or the little Mecca. Prayers to bless the city and its people are found in the prayer books of these Sufis. Amir Khusrau wrote:

Delhi, the refuge of faith and equity
Delhi is the garden of paradise
May its prosperity be long lived
If Mecca happens to learn about this garden
It may circumambulate around Hindustan.

The landscape of Delhi is dotted with sultans’ tombs but no one lights even a candle in their memory. At the Sufi shrines, lamps are lit, holy scriptures are recited, poor are fed and prayers of a thousand pilgrims answered. During the political upheavals, people of Delhi were constantly reassured by the Sufis at the khanqahs to which they had constant access.

The first Sufi centre in Delhi was established around the year 1221 AD by Khwaja Qutubuddin Bakhtiar Kaki who was the khalifa or spiritual leader designated to Delhi by Khwaja Moinuddin Chisti or Gharib Nawaz of Ajmer.  It is believed that the city of Delhi cannot be destroyed as long as Khwaja Qutub’s shrine exists, for heavenly blessings are showered on the city. Gharib Nawaz taught that the highest form of devotion   to God was, ‘to develop river-like generosity, sun-like bounty and earth-like hospitality.’ Sultan Iltutmish was an ardent devotee of  Khwaja Qutub and built the Qutub Minar in Delhi to perpetuate his memory.

Khwaja Bakhtiar Kaki’s chief disciple was Baba Farid, the first Sufi poet of Punjab whose shrine is in Pakpattan (Pakistan). Baba Farid’s khalifa was Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya who dominated the spiritual landscape for nearly 60 years. He survived three dynasties of seven Delhi sultans without ever visiting a durbar. Hazrat Nizamuddin preached that ‘bringing happiness to the human heart was the essence of religion’ and often said, “On the day of Resurrection amongst those who will be favoured most by God are the ones who have tended to a broken heart.” His successor, Hazrat Nasiruddin Mahmood, who came to be known as Chiragh Dilli, furthered the teachings of the Chistiya Sufi order.

The Sufis of Delhi had a significant role in the religious and cultural history of South Asia. They were great patrons of art, literature and language. They considered languages as modes of communication to bring people closer. It was at Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya’s khanqah in Delhi that his disciple and famed poet Hazrat Amir Khusrau excelled. Khusrau took great pride in  writing verses in regional languages. The beginnings of the tradition of Sufiana Qawwali is attributed to him, for adapting Arab and Turkish musical instruments and enriching the traditions of Indian classical music. His poems and odes are still sung today.

Delhi has been traditionally known as ‘Bais khwaja ki chaukhat’, the threshold of 22 Sufis although the important shrines of the city far exceed this number.

There was a healthy exchange of ideas between the Sufis and the Hindu yogis in an atmosphere of goodwill. The Sufis borrowed meditation and concentration techniques from the yogis and never hesitated to benefit from the spiritual experiences of mystics belonging to other communities. The Sufi empire in Delhi represents the religious tolerance that Indian society strives for and cherishes. Sufi shrines thus stand witness to our multi cultural identity with people from various faiths continuing to seek solace and blessings at the threshold of these exalted Divines.

Published in the Hindustan Times Delhi Edition on January 26, 2007

Credit for the image above right

10th Moharram is a day of mourning for all Muslims. The tragic incident at Kerbala where the righteous Hussain refused to submit to the autocracy of Yazid is an event laden with deep symbolism. Hazrat Imam Husain and his faithful companions preferred to die on the banks of river Euphrates and upheld the struggle of good against the evil.

Khawaja Muinuddin Chisty’s powerful verses epitomise the reverence and devotion of Muslims towards Imam Hussain:

Shah ast Hussain, Badshah ast Hussain
Deen ast Hussain, Deen Panah ast Hussain
Sardad na dad dast, dar dast-e-yazeed,
Haqaa key binaey La ila ast Hussain

Loosely translated

Ruler is Hussain, Emperor is Hussain,
Faith is Hussain , guardian of faith is Hussain .
Offered his head and not the hand to Yazid.
Truly, the mirror of faith is Hussain

As Adil Najam writes on All Things Pakistan:

Growing up in Pakistan, the night of Ashura was always defined for me by the Majlis i Shaam i Gharibaan (often by Allama Naseer ul Ijtihaadi) on PTV on the night of dasveenMuharram, which was followed immediately - and at right about midnight - by Syed Nasir Jahan’s soulful recitation of Salam-i-Akhir.

Bachay to aglay baras hum hain aur yeh gham phir hai
Jo chal basay tou yeh appna salam-i-akhir hai

His soulful voice, so pregnant with a deep and heartfelt pain, always echoes in my head when I read of continuing sectarian violence and the instigation of sectarian hatred.

 However, the ugly face of sectarianism is now haunting the entire Islamic world. There have been deaths in Pakistan recently and I have forgotten the number of people dying each day in Iraq. Forgotten? Yes, it sadly increases by the day..

And the true spirit of this sacrifice by Prophet’s family gets clouded by politics and imperial projects.

And for the poor Iraqis, Kerbala is not an event from their distant past.

Image credit here

 I don’t get tired of You. Don’t grow weary
of being compassionate toward me!

All this thirst-equipment
must surely be tired of me,
the waterjar, the water-carrier.

I have a thirsty fish in me
that can never find enough
of what it’s thirsty for!

Show me the way to the Ocean!
Break these half measures,
these small containers.

All this fantasy
and grief.

Let my house be drowned in the wave
that rose last night out of the courtyard
hidden in the center of my chest.

Joseph fell like the moon into my well.
The harvest I expected was washed away
But no matter.

A fire has risen above my tombstone hat.
I don’t want learning, or dignity,
or respectability.

I want this music and this dawn
and the warmth of your cheek against mine.

The grief-armies assemble,
but I’m not going with them.

This is how it always is
when I finish a poem.

A Great Silence overcomes me,
and I wonder why I ever thought
to use language.

– Version by Coleman Barks
“Like That”

Found here

Wonderful blog. Adding a link to mine

Body Loom by M. Athar Tahir

Published in the Daily Dawn (reviewer- Muneeza Shamsie)

There have been so few notable English language poetry collections to have been published in Pakistan of late that it is really good to see Body Loom by the versatile Athar Tahir. He is one of Pakistan’s foremost language poets today. He is also a translator, calligrapher and editor of sumptuous books on Pakistani art and calligraphy. All these disciplines come together in this collection which begins with a brief poem ‘Dot’ encapsulating both creation and the calligraphers art. While another poem ‘Calligraphy’ is imbued with vivid colours that reflect Tahir’s sensitivities as an art critic and painter. Describing the movement of a script across a page, he writes:

here it lifts its long neck
to new tensions,
here arcs its back

and scoops the emptiness
in praying hands,
here it flows mud-read
down a river-bed stirring to life.

‘Calligraphy’ is replete with a rich imagery and yet it has a stillness, a sense of meditation, which provides a marked contrast with the vibrancy of ‘Kathak’ his preceding poem. Here he captures the gathering tempo of dance and dancer with great skill. He begins:

To the sitar’s slow unwinding
gestures unfold
and ankle-bells shiver into shape
the wait that must be endured,
expressed
while the tabla’s impestousness
lets fly rose-petals from her wrists
like fluttering heart-beats.
 
Fingers blur in motion
And palms cascade or
smother notes
At the dark heart of the tabla

Tahir’s poems are immensely visual and he uses small, telling details very effectively to illumine the whole. This is clearly evident in ‘Anar-kali’ which gathers up the essence of a famous legend against the backdrop of a fabled court and underpins the formers immortality in the last line, with a reference to contemporary Lahore’s Anarkali bazaar. In ‘Walled City’, Tahir follows the movement of sunlight across tall houses, courtyards, rugs and balconies to capture the beauty and grace of Lahore’s traditional architecture. In ‘Karachi’ however, he is bewildered by the landscapes of

“this sea edge city
burgeoning beyond
comprehension”

but finds reassurance when he travels beyond, to the deep blue of the open sea.

Many of Tahir’s poems are a celebration of nature. In ‘Changala Gali’ he meditates upon the lives of goatherds amid misty mountains and valleys; while the elegant ‘Aitchison morning’ and ‘Aitchison Evening’ capture the different moods and sounds of the day through descriptions of birds, insect life, the beat of horses’ hooves, the length of grasses and shadows. Tahir’s observations of animal life include poems such as “Oysters” and “Glow-worms” which endow a quality of magic to tiny creatures. The two poems to Tahir’s father ‘Abu-ji I’ and ‘Abu-ji II’ encapsulate so much left unsaid to a parent; his verses also convey the poet’s sudden awareness of his own increasing age and the passage of time. Tahir also makes a comment on human tragedy and loss in ‘Baluch Chief’ while ‘Water-melon vendor’ tells of a life of anonymity and hardship.

Athar Tahir belongs to that group of contemporary Pakistani English poets who continue to honour the late Taufiq Rafat as an early mentor and guide. Tahir’s poem ‘In Memorium: Taufiq Rafat (1997-1998)’ is a befitting tribute which also evokes the cadences and images of Rafat’s verse. Tahir is adept at using words which convey volumes without stating the obvious. His ironical poem ‘Partition’ portrays the sub-continent as a mere piece of paper, a map, upon which a colonial Englishman draws an arbitrary boundary line without a thought to the consequences. The poem ends with the words:

he turned the light off, thinking of good old
England, little guessing what he had lit

Tahir also uses irony to make a powerful anti-war statement in his protest poem ‘Iraq’ which begins with:

By what and how is success
measured?
By inches the bamboo grows
in a night
Through a victim’s flesh

The collection culminates with ‘Punjab calendar’, a sequence of 12 poems each named after a consecutive month from January to December. The poet takes the reader across the landscapes of the Punjab, capturing the mood and colours of different seasons: from misty January mornings to the oven-hot temperatures of April and an earth bleached and baked by the June sun, only to be overtaken by the monsoon in July and the windswept trees of November. The sequence is interspersed with images of turbaned men and village women, laburnam trees and keekar, paddy and mustard fields, crows, Siberian cranes, herons.

This is a very fine collection indeed and possibly Tahir’s best to date. Hopefully more will follow soon.

Body Loom by Athar Tahir
Oxford University Press

So I go there again and again. I feel the magic of its atmosphere and I believe it is due to the tomb. The more I get closer to it, the more I   feel its presence. [photo credit here] 

After reading my post on her, Marta sent her essay on Nizamuddin Auliya that she wrote in 1987. It is a great read, enriched by personal experience and interspersed with sensitive observations.

Marta has an intimate tone about the place and this reflects both her devotion and fascination. The essay starts with these lines:

I sit in front of the tomb for hours. I look so intensively at it as if I were expecting some answers back. I lie, my back on the surrounding tombs, and I feel totally comfortable.

She tries to make sense of the pull that she experiences at the shrine:

But in front of the Dargah I sit for hours in a delighted spirit. I have no explanation for that. I don’t belong to Islam nor to any other religion; I don’t actually worship there and tourists, usually, when have been there once, don’t feel the need to go back again. While I do. (Image credit)

In a quintessential Sufi mood she writes:

I love to walk barefoot on the pavement. I understand it is a sign of respect and humility, yet to me it is, more then anything else, a pleasure. I feel an immediate communion with the environment, I pursue the fantasy of the thousands of bare feet that must have walked along  the same paths and I feel the warmth of them all.
I don’t want to be intrusive. Still, I feel as a lover who walks under the windows of his/her beloved just to see if the light is on or off.

And,

I have seen more human beings at this spot in six months then in my 27 years of life. Their presence heals me. It seems to help me on getting in touch with the inner part of myself.

Many would object to this but she uncannily notes the significance of the veil, of being hidden from the world …

Then, something funny happens: I don’t want to be noticed, I cover my head with a scarf, I just strongly desire to be as less visible as possible. ……. But could I ever explain to my emancipated female-friends that I understand the freedom under the purdha? Could I ever explain it to any emancipated Muslim woman who has probably struggled hard for the suppression of this backward habit? Or wouldn’t she consider my attitude an insulting contribution to her condition? (Image credit)

And Marta finally decides “not to do anything about it” and leaves purdha in her “prohibited dreams, the only place where it has probably a right to stay.”

Another insightful remark:

Either religion comes down to earth, or man rises up, closer to heaven: somehow they meet. And in front of the Dargah I finally feel that.

She is clear about one thing:

Since I believe that the try of explaining emotions through rationality is a useless job, I won’t go for it. Emotions are so sublime and precious that the best I can do is to listen to them.

Thanks Marta for such moving lines…

The complete essay can be accessed here

Bulleh Shah’s original thought and courage has always inspired me. A few days ago, I was struck by these verses of Bulleh Shah. I have attempted a translation but then its not a good one…

Bulleh-a aashiq hoyiyon Rabb da, Hoai Malamat Lakh
Tenon Kafir Kafir aakhdey, toon aaho aaho aakh

O Bulleh, just love your God and ignore the chidings
When they say you are an infidel, say “yes I am one”

And, then I visited Manzoor’s blog and found these translations. Manzoor writes “….Belief in humanity and love for fellow human beings is the sign of enlightenment and rationality, quoting again Bulleh Shah:

I am free, my mind is free,
I am neither a sick person nor a physician
Neither a believer nor an infidel
Nor a mullah or syed
In the fourteen spheres I walk in freedom
I can be imprisoned nowhere.

(translated by MA Akhyar?)

He complains, “in this country moral and intellectual dwarfs can be hailed as the saviors” and quotes from Shah again…

Crows swoop on hawks,
Sparrows do eagles stalk,
Strange are the times!

(translated by C Duggal)

Find more on Bulleh Shah on Jahan-e-Rumi here and here.

While concluding this post, I cannot help re-produce the following lines : 

I know not who I am

I am neither a believer going to the mosque
Nor given to non-believing ways
Neither clean, nor unclean
Neither Moses not Pharaoh
I know not who I am

I am neither among sinners nor among saints
Neither happy, nor unhappy
I belong neither to water not to earth
I am neither fire, not air
I know not who I am

(From All Things Pakistan’s post on rediscovering Bulleh Shah)

Dear Raza

It is delightful to experience the old city through your evocative writings as well as Fawad’s, alongwith Mahboob Ali’s wonderful woodcuts. Since I have been fortunate enough to be a humble onlooker to these curious, ecstatic and mellow-winter sun wanderings through the purana sheher by the two of you and a keen participant in our joyous readings of Mustafa Zaidi and Majeed Amjad in front of a gas fire, I must say it has been quite a memorable winter.

My dearest Raza,

It is so heartenting to see this site and the work you are doing. Makes up to some extent for you not being in Pakistan.

Atti.

I had posted a few pictures for Marta and she responded with these lines - true from the heart and reflecting the impact that Nizamuddin Auliya’s shrine can have:

thank you so much for the pictures, I really appreciated. To live so far from Delhi sometime makes me homesick. Even if I know (and feel) His presence everywhere, I wish I could sit again in front of the shrine, and spend a night of mine just there. I am longing to touch the marble of the columns, to lie my forehead on the steps, to listen to the ghazals. So, having the pictures is a great gift for me. I had put one of them on my desktop and when I turn off my Mac I wait for the image to disappear. So thank you so much, dil se!

When I was studying in Delhi at the Jamia Millia Islamia University, I wrote a short paper on Nizamuddin, first in English and then in Urdu. I was 27 years old, very young I would say now that I am 48, and very naive. But I had already felt a strong touch in front of the Dargha, which I didn’t know how to call it yet. Many years later I started to understand my feelings, “to hear the song”, as I love to say now, but that is a long story, an all life long story.

Anyhow, after delivering my paper to the University, I received a letter from the faculty asking me to present within a few days. I did, and I was received by the Chief (I don’t remember the right title) of the Urdu department. He looked at me seriously and told me: “After the first glance at your paper I was going to reject it, because I believed you had it written for you by someone else, obviously an Urdu writing Muslim. Then I looked more carefully, and noticed some recurrent mistakes that only a non-native writer could have made. That was the proof you wrote the paper yourself. But your hand really seems a Muslim hand. Or else a Saint has made the miracle”.

Since then, I have always thought the second one was the true. LOVE MAKES THINGS POSSIBLE.

If you, or anyone wish, I still have that paper in English, and I will be glad to share it on the blog. It is not very professional, it is just a glance on how a foreigner can feel sitting over there and how deep and wild can be the encounter, even for someone who is not aware of anything, as I was.

Marta, please share your paper - I am waiting for it!

Here are some interesting photos from the shrine…

I end with this lovely couplet from the most celebrated of disciples, Amir Khusrau

Khusrau baazi prem ki main khelun pi ke sung,
Jeet gayi to piya moray, haari, pi kay sung.

I, Khusrau, play the game of love with my beloved,
If I win, the beloved’s mine, defeated, I’m beloved’s.

Source: here

Image credit here

I had posted a few pictures for Marta and she responded with these lines - true from the heart and reflecting the impact that Nizamuddin Auliya’s shrine can have:

thank you so much for the pictures, I really appreciated. To live so far from Delhi sometime makes me homesick. Even if I know (and feel) His presence everywhere, I wish I could sit again in front of the shrine, and spend a night of mine just there. I am longing to touch the marble of the columns, to lie my forehead on the steps, to listen to the ghazals. So, having the pictures is a great gift for me. I had put one of them on my desktop and when I turn off my Mac I wait for the image to disappear. So thank you so much, dil se!

When I was studying in Delhi at the Jamia Millia Islamia University, I wrote a short paper on Nizamuddin, first in English and then in Urdu. I was 27 years old, very young I would say now that I am 48, and very naive. But I had already felt a strong touch in front of the Dargha, which I didn’t know how to call it yet. Many years later I started to understand my feelings, “to hear the song”, as I love to say now, but that is a long story, an all life long story.

Anyhow, after delivering my paper to the University, I received a letter from the faculty asking me to present within a few days. I did, and I was received by the Chief (I don’t remember the right title) of the Urdu department. He looked at me seriously and told me: “After the first glance at your paper I was going to reject it, because I believed you had it written for you by someone else, obviously an Urdu writing Muslim. Then I looked more carefully, and noticed some recurrent mistakes that only a non-native writer could have made. That was the proof you wrote the paper yourself. But your hand really seems a Muslim hand. Or else a Saint has made the miracle”.

Since then, I have always thought the second one was the true. LOVE MAKES THINGS POSSIBLE.

If you, or anyone wish, I still have that paper in English, and I will be glad to share it on the blog. It is not very professional, it is just a glance on how a foreigner can feel sitting over there and how deep and wild can be the encounter, even for someone who is not aware of anything, as I was.

Marta, please share your paper - I am waiting for it!

Here are some interesting photos from the shrine…

I end with this lovely couplet from the most celebrated of disciples, Amir Khusrau

Khusrau baazi prem ki main khelun pi ke sung,
Jeet gayi to piya moray, haari, pi kay sung.

I, Khusrau, play the game of love with my beloved,
If I win, the beloved’s mine, defeated, I’m beloved’s.

Source: here

Image credit here

Further to my post on Lahore and its various colours, the picture below offered a little reality check..

This ugly commercialism is unbecoming... 

From Today’s Daily Times  - the photo above, captioned “Taking a Backseat” laments: The Genesh Building on Lakshmi Chowk, one of the older buildings in the city, is obscured by billboards.

I had earlier written about this, quoting an Urdu verse:

Ek ham hain liya apni hi soorat ko bigaar
Ek woh hain junhay tasveer bana aati hai

Loosely translated (for the non-Urdu readers)

We who have distorted their own countenance
While there are many who create newer images
 Click here for more on this theme of architectural neglect.

Lakshmi Chowk named after the goddess of prosperity and wealth - Lakshmi - is an essential landmark of Lahore’s history. I think it was re-named after partiton but no one uses that name. It is still known as what it used to be before 1947.

The buildings there require conservation. After all, what is the meaning of the present without a link to the past. Devoid of heritage, a city loses its identity and this is what we are aiming for…?

Further to my post on Lahore and its various colours, the picture below offered a little reality check..

This ugly commercialism is unbecoming... 

From Today’s Daily Times  - the photo above, captioned “Taking a Backseat” laments: The Genesh Building on Lakshmi Chowk, one of the older buildings in the city, is obscured by billboards.

I had earlier written about this, quoting an Urdu verse:

Ek ham hain liya apni hi soorat ko bigaar
Ek woh hain junhay tasveer bana aati hai

Loosely translated (for the non-Urdu readers)

We who have distorted their own countenance
While there are many who create newer images
 Click here for more on this theme of architectural neglect.

Lakshmi Chowk named after the goddess of prosperity and wealth - Lakshmi - is an essential landmark of Lahore’s history. I think it was re-named after partiton but no one uses that name. It is still known as what it used to be before 1947.

The buildings there require conservation. After all, what is the meaning of the present without a link to the past. Devoid of heritage, a city loses its identity and this is what we are aiming for…?

Lahore features again. It is a little difficult not to yearn for Lahore if you belong there…

First, Mahboob Ali from Lahore (Pakistan) sent me digital images of his woodcuts in colour. I had earlier touched upon his novel technique here.

These were splendid images - evocative and the medium added several dimensions and moods to the structures and scenes depicted.

As I made an effort to get out of this odd state of appreciation-nostalgia-brush with history that Fawad, an old friend and a fellow blogger sent me the link to his recent post on his travels in old Lahore. This was quite a coincidence - a writer and an artist musing over the same places in their own peculiar ways. Note the use of colourful kites as a metaphor for Lahore’s exuberance and mood in almost all the images.

Old Lahore is a neglected tale of destruction of history and architecture. Unfettered “development” is changing its character and there are few who protest about it. Unlike several historical cities that one has visited, this particular part of Lahore - centuries old and mythical in its layout and design will soon be gone. Or maybe not?

Fawad wrote:

…I walked back into the walled city via Roshnai Gate and winded my way through the streets and alleys all the way to Masjid Wazir Khan inside Delhi Gate passing innumerable shops, bazaars, historic landmarks, shrines, mosques and imambargahs in Mori Gate, Lohari Gate, Shah Alam Bazaar, Mochi Gate and Akbari Mandi. Masjid Wazir Khan is one of the most beautiful and famous mosques in Lahore. It is an oasis of peace set in the midst of crowded bazaars pulsating with constant, loud and hectic commercial activity. I sat in the mosque courtyard for a while looking at the delicate decorations on the walls, the surrounding brick buildings overlooking this serene 17th century structure and flocks of pigeons fluttering on the mosque’s domes and minarets.

This reminded me of my recent visit to Masjid Wazir Khan recorded here.

And then he mentioned his visit to Kim - a small bookstore located within the Lahore Museum. And here is Mahboob Ali’s version of the area that Fawad talks about. The origins of Kim are interesting. A work of fiction by the nineteenth century English writer Rudyard Kipling, the novel Kim is set against the backdrop of the Great Game, the political conflict between Russia and Britain in Central Asia during much of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

Rudyard Kipling’s father John Lockwood Kipling was the curator of the Lahore Museum; and the ‘Kim’s gun Zamzamma’ ( see the image above right) in front of the Lahore Museum is called the same as Kim’s character sits on top of this gun in the novel when talking to another odd character - the Tibetan Lama in the novel.

A strange mix of fact and fiction, indeed. And, Fawad walked by this historical place with so many connections interlacing history, politics and urban identity.

A little away on the right of Kim is another landmark of Lahore - the Government College. A renowned institution that produced great men of letters. I had a chance there to study there albeit briefly. Its Gothic and Indian lines are a curious blend. And one of the woodcut images sent by Mahboob Ali captures a lovely view.

And finally this sad representation of Chauburji - a Mughal monument built by Princess Zebunnissa - another amazing tragic  character from Mughal History. I wrote here about her. The decline is evident but the sky sings nevertheless.. Mahboob Saheb: many thanks for sending such lovely images. And, of course Fawad made my day!

Artist, Mahboob can be contacted via email: mahboob_ali_artist@yahoo.com