The native returns
Unaffected by the prophets of doom, a Lahori decides the city is the place to be
Twenty years ago, I left Lahore. Excited by prospects of quality higher education and the adolescent yearning for freedom, this was a moment that only with age I have understood. A flash that alters the life-path even when one is not aware of it. As I grew up and visited Lahore from a multitude of cities and continents, Lahore’s provincialism and inward-looking ethos irked me. However, the splendour of its lived history and multi-layered present fascinated me endlessly. A false sense of fatalism whispered that my exile was going to cover a life-span.
The last few years were spent abroad: so dejected I was that not living in Lahore would mean living just anywhere. When I decided this summer to return to Pakistan, I was astounded by the reactions from all and sundry. I was told that I am ‘mad’ to have chosen to return to a burning, imploding and crashing Pakistan. Such is the power of global corporate media that even the discerning and schooled Pakistanis have started to believe in the failed state mantra scripted outside Pakistan.
My own parents, temporary residents of Islamabad, scared by the blasts advised me against it. Others from the more indulgent school of thought were aghast with my decision to return to a country where power outages, crumbling urban infrastructure and pollution define urban living. Of all the nightmares cited was that who knows if the country would survive? Such cynicism and unmasked pessimism about Pakistan is always disturbing, yet familiar. My question is when was the country not about to unravel since 1947?
Such has been the level of insecurity propagated by the state and of late its international partners or the ubiquitously infamous band of its ‘friends’? After all, if this was such a grave situation then I might as well be with the loved and the familiar instead of living a life of an unrequited exile?
Load shedding — well yes, inconvenient as it may be, is not all that unfamiliar. Prior to the high cost and high-kick IPPs, we lived in the dark times and used candles and hideous flashlights. Were we less happy? “Not really,” I told a friend who narrated the frequent power breakdowns as a proof that we had entered the august league of Sudans and Somalias of this world. Perhaps the colonial discourse has seeped so deep that we continue to berate ourselves; forever undermining, lowering and running ourselves down. None of that nonsense for me — neither the self-immolation nor the naive hollow bravado.
Unaffected by the prophets of doom, especially of the non-resident and domestic-elitist variety, I landed at the Lahore Airport on a pleasant October night. It was admittedly not that easy to deal with the twelve hours of power breakdown preventing any normal activity remotely related to the twenty-first century dependence on technology.
But what was more difficult, and remains so, is to deal with the endless prophecies on the end of the game. If anything that history has taught us, is, that upheavals of time are but the larger current of our collective unconscious. There were times when epidemics would haunt the population. What could be worse than our own holocaust at the time of Partition; the three wars with India and above all the dismemberment of the country in 1971? True, the destructive and suicidal trends are still embedded — all the more reason to raise voice against it.
Lahore has changed as I discover: the older landmarks are gone and replaced by concrete not to mention the ill-planned high-rise structures, ugly billboards and the recently added hazardous LCD screens. Courtesy my blog-zine, Lahore Nama I have also met many a Lahore enthusiast. Most notably Ahmad Rafay Alam who has been my companion on quiet Sunday mornings as we continue to explore the hidden streets and history-trotting roads. Rediscovering the neglected Railways quarters, the workshops and the Raj nostalgia streets that have survived Pakistanisation and later day Islamisation is delightful to say the least. These images and glimpses that flashback in the empty corners of my day-job.
The Mughal monuments are even more ignored and less frequented: the commercial attractions and thanks to the state-led effort to reduce culture to cuisine mean that fewer people visit gems such as the Jahangir’s tomb and Shalimar Gardens.
A month in Lahore has been furious and fulsome: from the youth festivals to the Ajoka street theatre performances; and from the spectacular All Pakistan Music conference to long, tiring walks within the walled city. I have been a little disconnected with the hip and the mainstream — the meaningless socialite evenings and the soulless eateries in the upper-middle class neighbourhoods. The latter best represented by the glitzy, crowded markets in the Defence Housing Authority.
And, being driven away from the TVs and computers, I am back to a bit of reading with emergency lights. Lest I forget the few visits to Ganj Baksh shrine and Mall Road shops has been intensely charming. All the sympathetic messages, often masking friendly condescension, have been replied with some high-spirited lines that have amazed me as well.
It is just so funny that electronic media’s copycat formats and reinforcement of stereotypes — home-grown and global — are so out of tune with the nuanced and undulating reality of Pakistan. What has been the best part so far, is, the indomitable will of people to survive and resist — galloping inflation, scare-crows, sacred cows and roaring puppets on the idiot box. Life flows, as before, with much more energy, civic action and the marching youth. The bulging youth population reminds me of how the exile from beloved Lahore has bracketed me in another generation. The new globalised youth is far more prepared to take risks and charter newer territories despite the skewed opportunities and rampant tribalism.
If only the pollution in Lahore were to be checked, traffic to be managed well and life-options for the labour, migrants and the underclass were a little more equitable and inclusive, the city would be unparalleled in this part of the continent.
There is so much to be done. The imagined failure of the Pakistan project is nothing but a fantasy. Nothing proves it better than Lahore that has finally started to look outside its confines and post-1947 provincialism.
First published in the NEWS on Sunday
All My Posts, Arts & Culture, Lahore, Personal, Published in the NEWS
Allah, i had my reasons, Bhutto’s murder had stunned me.
Can i borrow your phrase “Pakistanization”, can i? i love it? plz plz plz
“The new globalised youth is far more prepared to take risks and charter newer territories despite the skewed opportunities and rampant tribalism.”
Do you think the rise of the new youth culture is actually a revolt against tradition and conforming to the mainstream youth ideologies everywhere else? Is that why, as an exile, you don’t feel like you fit in with them?
Excellent article. It must feel insane to walk around but not belong, but love it all, all in simult.
Raza sahib,why only Lahore and Pakistan,if the western media and their ‘desi’ stooges in India are to be believed,India is also always about to implode,break apart,spiral into a vortex of communal or regional hatred and many other such calamities.But we (India and Pakistan and also Bangladesh) are still here,getting along with our lives.We are too ancient,too multi layered and too nuanced for the average ‘firangi’ mind to grasp.
If anything ails us it is our over popultion and corruption that is at the root of all our other ills.And we need to steer clear from falling into the trap of the ‘phoren’ media….we must not begin to doubt ourself and our abilty to survive and thrive.
its always gud to read what u write….always..its raises lott many questions in my mind at times..
I don’t think Lahori has decided on impulse or unaffected by the prophets of doom to come back and live in Lahore. He has decided out of frustration and wants to give a try. welcome on board.
All of us lived adolescent lives of enthusiasm when we faced despair and hopelessness. Most of us felt oppression of parents and decided to run away against the world of older generation.
After twenty years you must have realized that Provincialism is present wherever you have gone. you must have found discrimination, lack of discipline and failure to recognize talent and competencies. It was fun for locals to choose to arbitrary exercises of power, use of local languages and cultural to defy your ambition and spirit..
If you can’t change your inward looking ethos, the individualism and denial to your past, you have to come back after drifting for many years. But have you thought for a second of your younger generation and their choice? You must examine the problems of so doing and its consequence?
During our visit to Iran in 70s, we were surprised to find out two sensitive departments weeding media news into two categories, information and disinformation. They were classifying any news harmful to the country’s interest as disinformation. They used to treat all media like the enemy and didn’t believe them unless it was in their national interest.
As for unplugging your brain from the corporate-media propaganda machine, forget mainstream television and radio news—it’s more misinformation than news. The good news is that investigative reporting does still exist and truly informative news programs can be found—on the internet.
Welcome to Lahore!
Dear Raza,
Well said. Count me as one of those who have been living away from Lahore but never feeling at ease elsewhere. The reactions you describe are so very typical. I can understand and empathize, especially having met you during this transition of yours. I really enjoy spending time with interesting people in Lahore and I find their resilience commendable.
It was great to have that cup of tea with you …. I hope your travels bring you to Dallas some day!
Babar
home at last, sir
In the final analysis, there is no place like home. Problems notwithstanding, comfort is literally synonymous with home. We do alot of pakistan bashing and crib about corruption, failed governance, loadsheddings, crappy attitudes, bad traffic, dug up roads etc but like you return home one day…so there has to be something that pulls. And we need to build up on this ‘something’ to do our own little bit for this country that has given us all that we claim, flaunt and profess. So i am glad that you decided to return…. your conviction actually energizes me!
I was told by someone that there are beautiful homes in Pakistan. Well that is good news. Congratulations and God bless. However, home-owners must now graduate to become institution-builders. Pakistani elite has disappointed hugely. Pakistan needs QUALITY HIGH SCHOOLS… more than it needs oxygen. Establishing and running Quality High School would require missionary spirit and silent workers… who work silently for a lifetime and die unknown.
Gimmicks wont work. Solid grass-roots work is needed. If the elite of Pakistan do not respond., then the Titanic sinks… and when the Titanic sinks… it would be all-encompassing. This plastic-superficial sense of being wealthy will melt like a candle. This mall-economy culture is extremely fragile. A generationof new / young / rich Pakistanis are needed to change the landscape of Pakistan. Old gimmicks and superficialism is not enough ! Solid work is needed… Silent… Solid Work.. without publicity… without noise…
a truly inspirational post indeed for many who think Pakistan is not worth living anymore!
It won’t be easy. But of course, you’re welcome!
Beautifully penned Raza!
Not meaning to be negative here or for that matter taking away from a momentous event, but homecomings like these often have a honeymoon period that slowly but surely draws to a close to let reality step in…
I almost felt guilty about living abroad after reading this…but there are some of us who are more adapted to other lands than the one they were born in.
hey!
xxoxo
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The imagined failure of the Pakistan project is nothing but a fantasy.
In these times, you have to imagine the fantastic and absurd to survive. India has gone through a difficult phase when lots of people thought it will not survive. It managed to though there is no guarantee of tomorrow.
Even if these were a fantasy, the small possibility of them coming true is horrendous. So I would say that these doomsday predictors are actually doing a good job. Cos unless you survive you have not survived.
But I salute your return back to the country. Actions speak louder than words.
Tom Friedman’s post says what many people around the world feel right now.
http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/12/03/opinion/edfriedman.php
Sorry to be bombarding your site with comments.
From this news item
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7763446.stm
“TS Anklesaria, who attended the gathering from a distant suburb with his wife, said that “perhaps the time has come to adopt what Jinnah said and not what Mahatma Gandhi said”.
“Jinnah said that if someone slaps you once, you must slap him harder. That is what we need now.” ”
I was stuck with the thought that these militants actually attacked the city which the founding father of Pakistan loved and wanted to live in and perhaps die in.
They attack us everywhere from Khyber to Karachi and Mumbai to London…
Perhaps we all need to do what Raza did.
Instead of running away, we need to turn back and stay where the terrorists want to scare us away from.
what a great post! I hope that one day I can return home (to Karachi) too