Pak Nobel laureate’s Ahmedi status hurdle for documentary
Wednesday, March 03, Islamabad: Two young Pakistanis are battling all odds to make the first-ever documentary on the country's only Nobel laureate Abdus Salam though the going has not been easy so far because he was an Ahmedi.
In memoriam – Asim Butt (1978-2010)
He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again
(Hamlet, Shakespeare)
It is only when Asim has gone that one takes measure of the legacy he has left for his troubled and torn country. A decade long association was lost on the fateful day of January when we heard of his untimely exit from this world. For hours, I sat in my office, numb. Not that Asim’s suicide was a surprise, for he had warned us all many times of this inevitable dénouement to his dramatic life.
Five years ago, when I wrote a piece on the Pakistani poet Mustafa Zaidi and the romance with nurturing a death wish, Asim wrote to me and said that I had no clue what this was all about. His words were: “loved and was deeply moved by your piece on Zaidi... saw so much of myself in his life story, hoping I don’t die unsung and on the fringes, and wondering why you of all people would have a death wish.” Asim had suffered and struggled with his inner demons with an intensity that most of us will never appreciate. This was the first time that I knew about the seriousness of his other side: a dialectical dark side to his otherwise cheerful, loving and warm persona. Asim cannot be mourned; he can only be celebrated. He would have hated the melodramatic statements that I am inclined to write in this remembrance.
Two of my dearest friends were close to Asim in a way that is difficult to understand. Nearly a decade ago I met Asim at Ali Dayan Hasan’s home in Karachi. I was passing through on one of my occupational breaks from my assignment in Kosovo. Ali had returned from England and joined the monthly Herald and was piecing his life together. I met this lean and quiet young man who had big, bright eyes and a unique smile. We did not talk much except for a small argument over something, perhaps about a book, but I could not help being thoroughly impressed with his viewpoint. Since then I have had a series of exchanges, verbal and electronic, in which Asim was always animated, off-beat and extremely gifted with words and ideas. No wonder his art work and many of his writings are a formidable legacy for us all.
Born into a regular upper middle class family, Asim Butt was always an exception. He was different, as he would tell me. Rejecting convention, tradition and the confines of societal expectations was therefore something that started way too early with Asim. To be fair, he did pursue a path chosen for him. He attended the Li Po Chun United World College where his gift for painting became polished, and at some level he had chartered his future course. There was some meandering: a degree in the first batch of B.Sc. in Social Sciences earned from the Lahore University of Management Sciences; and later an unfinished PhD in History from the University of California, Davis. He returned to Pakistan, wrote for the Herald and other publications, and finally enrolled himself at the Indus Valley School of Art and Architecture.Not surprisingly, Butt graduated with distinction in 2006.
Pakistan: democratic governance is the only way forward
(Also published by The News) Given the average shelf life of any civilian government, it is almost miraculous that the incumbent government has survived and there are signs that its removal is not immediate. The longevity of civilian order has less to do with the inherent strengths of its style of governance or delivery of public goods that it had promised in its manifesto. The survival of this government is an outcome of the lack of options for the establishment as well as its international allies, notably the Western powers. Leaving the conspiracy theories and the excessive over-reliance of the analysts on the American factor, we can safely argue that the military establishment of Pakistan and its intelligence agencies has found themselves in a unique situation since the assumption of the presidency by Asif Ali Zardari.
The truth is that Pakistan People’s Party, an anathema to the civil-military bureaucracy, has assumed the most important and powerful offices that a civilian government can aspire for. Two years ago, when the Prime Minister Yousaf Raza Gillani was
Farida Khanum Singing Raga Kamod – Manna for the Soul
I am cross-posting my dear friend Fawad's excellent post from here. The links here are worth visiting and the music is fabulous for those who have the ear for extraordinary melodies from Indo-Pakistan. Raza
The internet is a remarkable treasure trove and I continue to marvel at the doors of culture, information and connectivity that it has opened. My recent discovery is a wonderful collection of Hindustani Classical music on the file sharing site esnips. I have been spending hours listening to pieces I love and discovering unknown treasures of the sub-continent's greatest vocalists.
Here's my selection of the day; Farida Khanum singing Raga Kamod. This is unfortunately the kind of performance by the the sister of Mukhtar Begum and a disciple of Ustad Ashiq Ali Khan (son of the founder of the Patiala Gharana Ustad Fateh Ali Khan, one half of the legendary duo Aliya Fattu) that Pakistani audiences have witnessed only rarely. In a country with almost no appetite for classical music she shifted her focus to lighter forms of singing decades ago.
Rickshaw and truck poetry from Pakistan
Tau kiya yeh tay haye… (Gulbahar Bano singing)
A piece of Urdu poetry that has remained with me through seasons, years and all the vicissitudes...
This is an extraordinary ghazal (rhymed poem in Urdu composed in classical style). The poet is perhaps Saleem Kausar whose expression is subtle yet brutal. There is a sense of finality in the lyrics - a denouement that is being challenged and hence a dynamic is created that allows the tragedy of two people parting their ways to turn into a moment of absolute beauty. The sadness of the verse is augmented by Gulbahar Bano's unique voice that brings out the depth of meaning in the lines.
I can only translate the first couplet:
Tau kiya ye tay haye ke ab umr bhar nahee milna
Tau phir ye umr bhi kiyon, tum se gar nahee milna
Is it now agreed that we shall not meet for life
But what good would be living if I will not be with you
As I rendered this literal translation, I wanted to curse myself for being so inadequate with words.. Those who can understand Urdu or Hindi would know what exactly I am complaining about. I dedicate this to someone special who remains as close as time itself. In fact, I am grateful to this muse who sent it the other day bringing back the smell of summer heat, the shades of white and all the flowers that bloomed and were tucked into thick books.
Here is the ghazal
another version found on youtube:
Killing Shias is not jihad – stop this carnage in Pakistan
Jaipur, Faiz and Ali Sethi
Ali Sethi recently attended the Jaipur literary festival and his extraordinary performance is now accessible to those who were not there. I should thank him for sharing this video. Ali's instructions were also meticulous but I will not post them here except his concluding comment: the whole of the rest of the session is fantastic, and includes an excellent performance by Shabana Azmi as well as a very funny story told by Javed Akhtar about his first meeting with Faiz Sahib..
Click and enjoy!
The Speech of Mr. Sris Chandra Chattopadhya (Opposition to Objectives Resolution, Constitutent Assembly of Pak, 12 March 1949)
This is a historic speech and a document that posterity will re-examine. Seldom has one piece of legislation caused so much trepidation. Thanks to my firebrand friend Usman Qazi, I got to read this speech that I had heard about from many people. Here is the text of the address of Sris Chandra Chattopadhya (Opposition to Objectives Resolution, Constitutent Assembly of Pak, 12 March 1949).
Mr. Sris Chandra Chattopadhya (East Bengal : General) : Mr. President, I thought, after my colleague, Mr. Bhupendra Kumar Datta, had spoken on the two amendments on behalf of the Congress Party, I would not take any part in this discussion. He appealed, he reasoned and made the Congress position fully clear, but after I heard some of the speakers from the majority party, viz, Muslim League Party, the manner in which they had interpreted the Resolution, it became incumbent on me to take part in this discussion.
I have heard Dr. Malik and appreciate his standpoint. He says that "we got Pakistan for establishing a Muslim State, and the Muslims suffered for it and therefore it was not desireable that anybody should speak against it". I quite agree with him. He said; "If we establish a Muslim State and even if we become reactionaries, who are you to say anything against it?" That is a standpoint which I understand, but here there is some difficulty. We also, on this side, fought for the independence of the country. We worked for the independence of the entire country. When our erstwhile masters, Britishers, were practically in the mood of going away, the country was divided – one part became Pakistan and the other remained India. If in the Pakistan State there would have been only Muslims, the question would have been different. But there are some non-muslims also in Pakistan. When they wanted a division there was no talk of an exchange of population. If there was an exchange of population, there would have been an end of the matter, and Dr. Malik could establish his Pakistan in his own way and frame constitution accordingly. It is also true that the part of Pakistan in which Dr. Malik lives is denuded of non-Muslims. That is clear.
Dr. Omar Hayat Malik: On a point of order, Sir, I never said that. He has understood me quite wrongly.
Mr. Omar Hayat Malik: I never said that Pakistan was denuded of non-Muslims. My friend on the opposite has misunderstood me.
Muslimness – shifting boundaries
Muslimness is an elusive state of being. There are watertight strictures of the theological identity defined by men, interpreted as the Sharia, on the one hand; and the broad political and cultural sense of the self, on the other. Identity, in any case, is a messy affair: shifty, shifting and eventually, imagined. While 9/11 placed Muslims at the centre stage of global politics, the broth had already been simmering in the cauldrons of biased academe and pop reality mirrored through the blood-thirsty lens of corporate media.
So what is it to be a Muslim? An inflexible bag of rituals? Or a cultural sense of belonging or a deeper dogma ingrained in young minds? I have never considered myself anything but a believer, a ‘practicing Muslim’. This has never been at variance with my secular and inclusive pretensions, despite the fact that the clergy in my country considers secularism akin to atheism, a sort of mirror image of the Pakistani political foundation. The clerics translate secular as la-deen , at best irreligious, and at worst, godless.
Ironical that this business of religious identity is articulated in a land that was the crucible of the secular Indus Valley civilization, non-militant Buddhism and a peculiar version of South Asian Islam that spread via the Sufi khanqahs and was a sort of amalgam of the Central Asian with the ancient South Asian. Even more ironical is the reality, neglected and veiled, that lived Islam is located around dargahs , tribal codes and customs which are irreligious in their own way. But who cares? Referred to as the world’s most dangerous country, Pakistan, according to the pundits of global opinion, is a haven for Islamic terrorists. Collateral damage, therefore, is kosher and a necessity to undo the unstated part of the ‘axis of evil’.
Labels and more labels. On the global shelves such products sell well and work in favour of a war machine hungry for energy resources, territory and blood.
How instability is garnered
My latest analysis published by The News
We continue to bemoan the failure of democratic norms to take root in our governance culture. True, that the repeated extra-constitutional interventions and direct or indirect military rule have rendered democratic governance as a distant and seemingly unattainable goal. In addition, the emergence of non-state actors, sometimes more powerful than the state itself has also led to formidable and multiple centres of power. In such a milieu, achieving the sustainability of democratic process is a Herculean task. Whilst the intentions of our unelected state institutions and their overt and covert non-state partners are clear, the behaviour of the political elites is confounding.
Not unlike the past, the divisiveness of Pakistan’s political elites has entered into a decisive phase. Fissures are apparent in the post-2008 political accord that led to the unanimous election of the Prime Minister, Yousaf Raza Gilani. The first cleavage, now a recurrent pattern, has emerged in Sindh where the coalition partners — the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) and the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) — are pitted against each other for political control of urban Sindh. The latest skirmish is rooted in the evolving arrangements for the local governments and who will end up controlling the third tier of government. However, there is an ethnic dimension to it as well. Karachi remains besieged by sectarian, provincial, and
linguistic ghosts that apparently are alive and kicking.
The second disruption in the political compact that led to a transition towards representative rule is unfolding in the shape of a brewing discord between the ruling PPP and the opposition Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz). The PML-N rules the Punjab and thereby has a stake in the system and power matrix but it is also striving to maintain its ‘opposition’ status. This is why a dual strategy is evident where a few firebrand leaders of PML-N take a hard line against the federal government and the President Asif Ali Zardari. The party does not want to rock the system it says but also considers ‘options’ that lead to a mid-term election or even the premature exit of the President from the office in the wake of Supreme Court rulings on the National Reconciliation Ordinance.
Farewell Haqqani Saheb – forgive your peers and colleagues
A personal favourite, Irshad Ahmad Haqqani is dead. This is a huge loss to Urdu journalism as he was the last of sane voices in the vernacular industry. I often disagreed with his centre-right views but his tone was measured and he remained a staunch supporter of democracy. May God bless his soul.
I stumbled on this post at Cafe Piyala that also talks about Haqqani but the best part of it was what Haqqani's peers and junior collegaues had to say about him. I think some of the comments were so shameful that I could not even laugh with an easy conscience. I am quoting the last part of that post here that also is quite a treat:
Whatever they might say about him, he did invent the modern Urdu column, which is half analytical drivel, half dinner menus. Only during the last week, for example, Jang columnist Haroon-ur-Rashid (according to his column) demanded and got desi murghi from the Azad Kashmir prime minister, and Hamid Mir (according to his column) discovered new insights into judicial activism over a Kashmiri dish. I forget the name of the dish but according to Jang / Geo’s brightest star, it is made of mooli and shaljam and served with rice. The host was the Lahore High Court Chief Justice Khwaja Sharif.
Should we bid farewell to democracy in Pakistan?
It is still not too late that PML-N and PPP and the regional parties sit together and agree on the way forward says Raza Rumi
Many decades ago, our Governor General-President Iskander Mirza had rather contemptuously stated that democracy does not suit the genius of Pakistani people. Immediately after these words of wisdom were uttered, direct military rule not only exiled Mirza but also became a norm rather than aberration. For the last six decades or so we have not been able to overcome this political reality. The unelected institutions of the state are not willing to give up the power they inherited from the might of the colonial state. At best, they are willing to share power to a degree that they deem fit.
It is now clear that within a few months Pakistan is due for another political upheaval. Barely two
years after an election took place, the political elites are back in business: bickering, wrangling and oblivious to their historical role in strengthening the fragile democratic process. The unelected institutions have traditionally been contemptuous of democracy and their conduct in the last two years has not been surprising. The losers at the hand of the military rule – the PML-N and the PPP ought to have learnt their lesson: no matter how adverse the political climate was, the political forces had to stay united for a common cause.
However, the brief interlude of political cooperation led to mistrust and misgivings among the political players. First the restoration of judges and a partisan interpretation to the issue of independence of the judiciary created a rift between the two parties. Second, the imposition of ill-advised Governor’s rule led to widening of the gulf. This was followed by the long march that led to the restoration of the deposed judges. In the process, the co-chairperson of the PPP was termed as a leader who did not keep his promises and time and again betrayed the trust of Mian Nawaz Sharif painted by a prejudiced media as an innocent victim.
Saadat Hasan Manto- Writer of Stark Realities
(Courtesy Iftikhar Chaudri) Saadat Hassan Manto (May 11, 1912 – January 18, 1955) was a Pakistani Urdu short story writer, most known for his Urdu short stories , 'Bu' (Odour), 'Khol Do' (Open It), 'Thanda Gosht' (Cold Meat), and his magnum opus, Toba Tek Singh'. Unfortunately having spent life on both sides of the border he was portrayed as an Indian writer in Pakistan and in India he was portrayed as a Pakistani writer. But truely he was a writer of the subcontinent above distinctions of coutry or religion.
He was also a film and radio scriptwriter, and journalist. In his short life, he published twenty-two collections of short stories, one novel, five collections of radio plays, three collections of essays, two collections of personal sketches.
Madam Nur Jahan
(Published in The Friday Times) - The twentieth century trajectory of Pakistani music and stardom are epitomised in the life and works of Madame Nur Jehan (1929 - 2000) also known as Malika-e-Tarranum. Had there been no partition of boundaries, musicians and composers in 1947, she would have been a subcontinental diva. A common Punjabi aphorism, loosely translated, states that there never was and never will be anyone like Nur Jehan. With her incredible talent, fiercely independent persona, flamboyance and ingrained humility, she surpasses even the best of global icons. The complexity of her life and times have yet to be appreciated: breaking with convention, she defined a new set of rules in the patriarchal entertainment industry, manipulating it where possible to ensure that she would not become the archetypal exploited South Asian singer. Her wit and lust for life remained till the end, and with the exception of not having died in her beloved Lahore, she died with no regrets.
When nine years ago, the Queen of Melody breathed her last breath in a Karachi hospital, the circumstances of her death were considered peculiar by Believers. Even in death she achieved what ritualistic Muslims seek all their lives – to die on the holiest day of the year. The twenty-seventh night of the holy month of fasting is widely believed as a night when all prayers are answered and the gates of forgiveness are let open. This is reportedly the reason that her Karachi-based daughters hastened her burial. (Other less spiritual accounts explain it as a consequence of conflict among her children by different husbands, and the struggle to control family assets).
To undo the vicious past
It's about time a civilian Pakistan functions as a peaceful country with fair share of resources put into people's welfare by Raza Rumi (published in the News on Sunday)
That Pakistan's endemic political instability is a function of its inherent power imbalances is well known. The continued spells of authoritarian rule have also retarded the growth of political parties and other necessary institutions essential for democratic governance. We are a country trapped in our history, our self-fulfilling conspiracies and intrigues that are also rooted in the various phases of colonial era. Our geo-political situation, celebrated by a rentier state, has not helped us either. From the 1950s we have been in close partnership with global powers that are viewed as the ultimate saviours of a dysfunctional polity.
In 1971, we lost half the country. While the seeds of discord in East Pakistan had been laid by West Pakistan's ruling elites, our vengeful neighbour took full advantage and supported the Bangladeshi liberation movement. By all accounts, this was an avoidable tragedy had the national security-obsessed state dominated by West Pakistani vested interests could have seen the writing on the wall and fixed the issues of federalism that still haunt us.
The tender tea house
I was quite pleased to read this piece. Aside from fact that it talks about me, the constant rememberance of Pak Tea House is a welcome sign. The memory is not fading, not yet..
From Partition onward, Nasir Khan writes, a dusty cafe was the centre of Lahore’s literary life.
Pak Tea House sits on Mall Road in Old Anarkali, nestled between tyre suppliers and motorcycle workshops. Before Partition it was the India Tea House, but 1947 and a quick paint job changed that. No one knows why it became – along with several similar shops on the same street – a favourite haunt of so many intellectuals. Maybe it was the cheap but good milky tea, or the extra-sweet biscuits. Perhaps it was the literary sensibility of the first post-Partition owners, two brothers from India. It might have been the radio on the counter that was constantly tuned to Lahore’s call-in request programme. And, for scores of struggling writers and poets, the availability of food on credit certainly had something to do with it.
New Education Policy
A policy matter published in the iWrite Magazine
Raza Rumi responds to the new education policy for Pakistan
Yet another educational policy has been announced for Pakistan and its hapless citizens. We should not cast aspersions on the motives of an elected government, for we have been bitten by endless rounds of authoritarian rule which have not only destroyed the institutions of civilian governance, but have also demolished the integrity of our curriculum and mode of instruction. Decade after decade, dictators chose to glorify martial rule and later legitimized the abuse of jihad and violence. Even those who have studied at elite, expensive schools have somehow been doctored by the same curse of malicious textbooks. The surreal curricula have glorified looters and plunderers like Mahmud Ghaznavi only because they happened to be Muslims by a sheer coincidence of birth. Not to mention the Hindus, with whom we have coexisted for nearly a thousand years; they have been painted as treacherous, villainous and vile creatures ready to destroy the Muslims.
One would have expected that a legitimately elected government, representing the aspirations and pluralism of Pakistan's small provinces would take a strong stance on the revision of pernicious curricula. Alas, this is now a distant, buried dream for all. The policy is silent on that. This is a government that is waging wars on terrorism rather successfully and with clarity of purpose, but the educational policy makes little mention of the madrassa reform which is now an imperative for the very survival of Pakistan as a viable state. Thousands of madrassas scattered all over the place, funded by external powers preach hatred, bigotry and a reversion to the Dark Ages. Who will reform these madrassas if the national education policy does not even bother to lay out a strategy and provide resources? The new policy promises that by 2015, the budgetary allocation for education would increase to seven percent of the GDP from the current 2.1 percent of the GDP. This is surely promising but how can a policy not envision the need or the strategy to mobilize such resources? Have we not heard such sanguine proclamations in the past?
When will my beloved visit my courtyard
The soulful poetry of Khawaja Ghulam Farid (1845-1901) best represents the essence of Seraiki language. Diwan-e-Farid, a collection of the poet’s verses, happens to be an outstanding masterpiece of Seraiki mystical poetry that reaches the poetic excellence and transcendence found in the messages of Rumi and Iqbal in terms of exploring the metaphysics of knowledge and being.
Shahzad Qaiser has undertaken a major labour of love by rendering the Diwan-e-Farid into English and issuing another separate volume – The Metaphysics of Khawaja Ghulam Farid – that explores the vastness of meaning in Khawaja Farid’s poetry. It is rare these days to find a civil servant who can spare time to devote himself to the cause
of letters. In contrast to past traditions, present day civil service has become a vehicle for playing along with palace intrigues and extracting opportunities from the vicissitudes of power. Rejecting this trend, Qaiser appears to have shunned the ordinary power-mongering culture and delved deeper into the mysteries of divine love. Therefore, his endeavour to search for the inner meanings of Khawaja Ghulam Farid’s poetry has been eminently successful. These two volumes are highly readable and well-presented for specialists and lay readers alike.
Khawaja Ghulam Farid was born in Chachran, located in the south of present day Pakistan’s Punjab province. His spiritual ancestry was somewhere linked with the revered Baba Farid Ganj-e-Shakar of Pakpattan and hence he was named after the master saint of the family. It is the metaphysical understanding which talks of reality as the divine essence and removes the difference between Ahad and Wahad and one and many that constitutes the doctrine of ‘oneness of being’
Parveen Shakir – ‘coins of my truthfulness’
![]() |
|
![]() |
|
|
Parveen Shakir with her mentor Qasimi whom she called Ammu |
|
![]() |
|
|
Young Shakir at a mushaira |
|
|
Fifteen years later Shakir remains intensely popular. Her poetry has been reinterpreted and critics who dismissed her as a poetic lightweight have realized that there was much more to Parveen's poetic vision than just henna-dyed hands |
|
Parveen Shakir (1952-1994) has defined the sensibilities of several generations and beyond. At the relatively young age of 42 years, Parveen Shakir died on an empty Islamabad boulevard, as if this was an essential part of her romantic persona. But she had lived a full life where poetry and tragedy intersected each other and became inseparable from her being.
As a young student in high school, I was introduced to Shakir’s romantic poetry, which was best represented by her first collection of poetry ‘Khushbu’. I had won an essay writing competition in Urdu and a delightful award came in the form of this tender volume of poetry. Since then I have always returned to bits and pieces of Khushbu. It may not be according to the cannons of literary theory, but it is spontaneous, fresh and almost dreamlike. Shakir was bearly 24 years old when Khushbu was published and since its first edition, this book has been a best seller wherever Urdu poetry is read or appreciated.
Khushbu turned Shakir into a celebrity. Aside from mushairas, newspapers and public fora, she was ever-present on the Pakistan television, perhaps as its only saving grace during the rigid years of Zia-ul-Haq’s Martial Law. Shakir had a natural talent for public speaking, reciting poetry and just being herself. I remember one monsoon evening in Murree when we were hooked to her presentation on Pakistan’s Independence Day. There was a distinct tenderness in her voice that was in sharp contrast to the platitudes being churned out. Above all she was beautiful. I remember she would read verses from her own work and from the great masters of Urdu poetry with complete ease and immense refinement. In the short period of time that she lived as a poet, Parveen did rather well and was quite prolific. Her later collections comprised Sad Barg (marsh merrygold), Khud Kalami (conversing with one’self), Inkaar (refusal), Maah-e-Tamaam (full moon) and Kaf-e-Aaina (edge of the mirror).
Her raw romanticism runs through her poetry. For instance, yay haseen shaam apni is a love poem of rare beauty; and has always been a favourite of mine. It is composite, taut and melodic; and here is my translation.
This melting evening of ours
Where everything dissolves
The scent of your clothes
The blossoming sprouts of my dreams
A deferred vision, this is
In a little while,
A star will emerge on the horizon
To gaze at you meaningfully…!
Your heart shall then reminisce
The echo of a memory
The tale of a separation,
Of an unfinished moment
Of un-blossomed dreams, things unsaid
We ought to have met
In times, considerate
In pursuit of attainable dreams
On a different sky
On a different earth
We ought to have met
Pakistani blasphemy laws should be repealed
This is a pertinent post on my blog-zine Pak Tea House. Readers should take a closer look.
It is therefore quite clear that what is purported to be some sort of a defence against blasphemy has become a vehicle of oppression and persecution of minorities in Pakistan. These laws are the most draconian in the world and have no justification even in Islamic jurisprudence. It is time- as one Pakistani MNA said- to repeal them for they have done more harm to Pakistan, Islam and humanity then good. Indeed they haven’t done any good but have only reinforced negative stereotypes about Islam
Indo-Pak dosti?
My new piece published by The Friday Times...
![]() |
|
|
;"> Friendship of India-Pakistan by Saira Wasim - Gouache on wasli (2001) |
|
![]() |
|
|
Syed Abid Hossain (India), Selina Hossain (Bangladesh), Raza Rumi (Pakistan), and Ajeet Caur (India) at SAARC writers festival 2009, Agra |
|
![]() |
|
|
Enthusiastic Indian spectators make life difficult for a Pakistani policeman |
|
![]() |
|
|
Nandita Das and Hasan Zaidi at the Kara Film Fesitval, Karachi |
|
![]() |
|
|
Amitabh Bachchan with Neville Tuli, founder and chairman of Osian's Connoisseurs of Art Pvt Ltd, at the annual Jaipur literary festival (2009) |
|
|
Following their popular leaders, Mahatma Gandhi – who was killed by a Hindu fanatic due to his overtures to muslims – and Mohammed Ali Jinnah – who is on record as having planned to go on vacation to India and perhaps retire there as well – the people have yearned for peace and friendship |
|
|
When the cricket visas were issued after a hiatus of decades in 2005, the exceptional warmth in Lahore astounded visitors from India. In so many ways, formal identities were challenged and shifted around in those days, as thousands thronged the streets and the cricket stadiums of Lahore |
|
|
Reclaiming shared cultures could resist the clamping of boundaries and challenge the mutually destructive paths that Indian and Pakistani states have imposed upon us as our destinies |
|
The shadows of hostility and war have refused to leave South Asia. For sixty years, the spectre of Partition and the Bangladeshi war of liberation continue to fill the public imagination with fear, skepticism and futile xenophobia. What is surprising is that the official worldview has been continuously contested and challenged by the people. A case in point is that, notwithstanding the misgivings and memories of violence during Partition, the people of India and of Pakistan have been warm and friendly to each other. Transnationalism has been articulated by people-to-people contact initiatives, and more importantly, by popular culture that has been shared for centuries, and continues to contain common strands even today.
The bureaucracies have undoubtedly resisted: twisting the arms of peace efforts by imposing visa regimes, building real and imagined iron curtains, and unleashing vicious propaganda now vociferously disseminated by the corporate media. In line with their popular leaders Mahatma Gandhi – who was killed by a Hindu fanatic due to his overtures to Muslims and Pakistan – and Mohammed Ali Jinnah – who is on record as having planned to go on vacation to India and perhaps retire there as well – the people have yearned for peace and friendship.
The relations between India and Pakistan have been aptly described as “a minefield of mutual recriminations, communal antagonisms, and military confrontations.” The policy priorities of each country also display tendencies to counter each other, or to be xenophobic in relation to ‘the other’. Public policy choices have inadequately responded to people’s aspirations and the paramount importance of establishing peace in the region.
It might not be useful to assess the perceptual direction of either government here. Postcolonial states operate in a security-obsessed frame, and focus more on the use of violence rather than on the compact they need to draw with the citizenry. This is where cultural interaction and cross-border initiatives assume immense importance. When the cricket visas were issued after a hiatus of decades in 2005, the exceptional warmth in Lahore astounded visitors from India. In so many ways, formal identities were challenged and shifted around in those days, as thousands thronged the streets and the cricket stadiums of Lahore. Track II diplomacy in the past has also been a favourite among the liberal intelligentsia of the two countries. However, cynicism in view of the failure of that mode of informal diplomacy has also been a part of public discourse.
The interaction of the two countries’ populations has been limited since the past six decades. Today, a miniscule number of families have relatives across the border. Despite aggressive posturing from their inception, India and Pakistan could not stop families from travelling to and fro, meeting relatives, friends and other associates. Wars in 1965 and 1971 exacerbated the divide between Indians and Pakistanis, and such ties were not restored even in the 1980s, when small skirmishes in adverse regions (Siachen, for instance) and tactical posturing (especially Operation Brass Tacks of 2002) were launched.
Prior to the 1965 war, Indian cinema was a major cultural force; since the banning of Indian films,television and later video technologies filled the gap. In Pakistan, General Zia’s oppressive rendition of Islam spelt doom for Pakistan’s previously vibrant and socially representative cinematic industry. While some actors and actresses were outbound for India in search of better opportunity, cultural ties with India were put on the backburner and the only relationship that was promoted was of a competitive kind, mostly in sports such as cricket.
Such interactions served the designs of both governments well, especially for the winning team in cases where the stakes of pride and perception remain high. Indeed, if cricket and the rivalry with India were not hyped-up as the only regional interaction with India, Pakistani cricketers would not have to face a storm of smelly vegetables on their arrival from a defeat handed down by Indian teams.
Thus, the experiment of SAARC and its twenty-something years of existence has been limited and has been held hostage to chauvinism. Politics and history continue to dominate discussions on how culture can transcend national boundaries and mutual hostilities. As a spin-off of official inter-governmental agreements, the SAARC processes have unleashed a large number of unofficial interactions and contacts among various sets of people and institutions, including NGOs, professionals, academics, the media and civil society.
Amid the shifting sands of our globalised life, it is evident that cultural cooperation across imagined and real borders is imminently possible. Cultural exchange, therefore, is not only a lived reality but also an endless, ever-expanding possibility shaping new spaces of resistance against officialdom. It is almost a parallel reality of composite and truncated ‘talks’ that are neither routine nor result-oriented.
***
Perhaps the greatest metaphor for Foundation of South Asian Writers and Literature FOSWAL is its moving spirit, the eminent Indian writer Ajeet Caur, who was once a Lahoreite, and left her beloved city in the aftermath of Partition. There is no question that she is an Indian, a Punjabi woman and a creative writer, all layers of multifaceted identities. However, her single-minded pursuit of setting up a South Asian forum and focus on India and Pakistan undermines the compartmentalized nation-state mentality too familiar to us.
The FOSWAL arranged the first ever India-Pakistan writer’s conference in 1987. In fact, most of the participants of Track-II diplomacy recognized FOSWAL as an important component of the dialogue process. Culture has become an important component of the overall potential for any dialogue in South Asia; such is the power of cultural identity, and the specific dynamic supporting regional cohesion that exists in South Asia today. Over time, FOSWAL has created a sizable fraternity of writers, poets, scholars, diplomats, academics and intellectuals through its multifaceted initiatives. It has consistently advocated the ideals of SAARC, particularly in the areas of literature, art and culture as per its mandate. In doing so, FOSWAL has contributed significantly to the overarching objective of peace and prosperity in South Asia, as well as the development of a common and cohesive regional identity. Would it really be that difficult to connect the dots between cultural interaction, agreement and assimilation, and then broad-based recognition and acceptance thereon? Suffice it to say, progressive culture may indeed serve
Yeh Daagh Daagh Ujala – Faiz
As I was commenting on the Pak Tea House, I just recalled Faiz's wonderful poem Subh-e-Aazaadii, a masterpiece of our times.
I am posting the Urdu version with translations here:
Ye daagh daagh ujaalaa, ye shab-gaziida sahar,
Vo intizaar thaa jis-kaa, ye vo sahar to nahiiN,
Ye vo sahar to nahiiN jis-kii aarzu lekar
Chale the yaar ke mil-ja`egi kahiiN na kahiN
Faiz’s ‘Intesab’ – a lovely translation
A reader - Joe 31 - has rendered a great translation of Faiz's poem - "Intesab". I am posting it as a separate blog entry for all those who read and enjoy Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Pakistan's eminent poet. This poem appears as an introduction to one of his early collections of verse. This timeless poem is relevant even today as it celebrates the resilience and courage of Pakistani proletariat.
Dedicated to these times, and the sorrow of these times.
The pain of today, that is set against the plentiful garden of life.
The forest of dead leaves, that is my land.
The collection of pain that is my land.
Dedicated to the gloomy lives of clerks
Moth eaten hearts and words.
Dedicated to the postmen
Dedicated to the coachmen
Dedicated to the railway workers
Dedicated to the innocent beings in the factories.
Dealing with the dual challenge
I do not blame the young men and women of our age – they have been indoctrinated by the pernicious text-books, Zia’s ideology and the infiltration of Jamaat-i-Islami and jihadis into every nook and corner of Pakistan. This is why Pak Tea House (an e-zine I edit) as a voice of reason, faces the dual challenge of tackling the right wing and handling the global stereotyping of Pakistan as a jihadi haven. Not an easy challenge by any account — Raza Rumi
Salaam Pakhtunkhwa
![]() |
|
|
Haligoli, (2001), a miniature by Saira Wasim – collection of |
|
![]() |
|
|
Peshawar, a city destroyed |
|
![]() |
|
|
IDPs returning to their homes |
|
|
Wherever I went to eat, there was a meat-fest in waiting. There comes a time in life when you want to give up meat forever and that moment arrived on a dark, load-shedded night in Peshawar |
|
As if a non-vegetarian diet was not enough, the scare of being smoked out by the Al-Qaeda goons was even more disturbing, dare I say, indigestible. A happy-go-lucky and overly-healthy host, as he drove us into the by-lanes of the old Peshawar that must have been beautiful once, gregariously referred to all the sites where bombs had erupted were a little disturbing. Not that I am scared of dangerous places, for I have braved a post-war Kosovo with a fair measure of bravado. But the hysterical “outsiders” ranting about how insecure we were in Peshawar was a little dampening for a Lahori soul. We do live in interesting times, made even more interesting by naïve security experts and people fed on Western media reporting on Pakistan being a truly dangerous pit-hole of the world. Sometimes the propaganda war does conquer your senses, I must confess.
So we visited the camps where thousands had been packed like sardines and where women recounted stories of bereavement and heavy-duty terror-mongering by the good Taliban as we are told that there is a clear distinction between the good and the bad Taliban. Now if the good Taliban, referred to as “patriots” not long ago, are such barbarians, I shudder to think what the bad Taliban might be like. The children at these camps were suffering even more. The heat could be unbearable and drinking water was not always available. And
With fettered legs, we danced
This is a fabulous poem by Fakhar Zaman,currently the Chairman of Pakistan's Academy of Letters. This poem, has also been quoted by several authors and I am grateful to have found it in Victoria Schofield's brilliant article entitled CAN DEMOCRACY WORK IN PAKISTAN?*
Nothing describes better the fortitude and bravery of ordinary, disempowered Pakistanis who have suffered through the decades.
How can he who lost his eyesight paint?
How can he who lost his hands sculpt?
How can he who lost his hearing compose music?
How can he whose tongue was cut out sing?
How can he whose hands are tied write poetry?
How can he whose feet are fettered dance?
With muf?ed nose and mouth how can one inhale the scent of flowers?
But all this has really happened:
Without eyes, we painted,
Without hands, we sculpted statues,
Without hearing, we composed music,
Deprived of a tongue, we sang
Handcuffed, we wrote poetry,
With fettered legs, we danced
And the fragrance of flowers pierced our muffled mouths and nostrils.
*Schofield, Victoria(2009)'CAN DEMOCRACY WORK IN PAKISTAN?',Asian Affairs,40:2,243 — 251

Pakistan’s electronic media is not accountable to anyone except to the barons and the market. And let us not forget that the barons, the mafia and the market are great bedfellows
As I hold the recently published “The Oxford Book of short stories” in my hands, I cannot help bemoan the fact that Urdu literature has been almost invisible from the arena of global literature. Admittedly, translation is difficult; the tediousness of translation daunts many a brave heart. Having said that, there have been a handful of remarkable translators such as Khalid Hassan, Alamgir Hashmi, CM Naim, Aamer Hussain, Umer Memon and Rakhshanda Jalil, to name a few. But a wide corpus of Urdu literature lies forlorn and hidden from global readership, which alas is dominated by English language readers. For this very reason, Amina Azfar has done a remarkable job of compiling a collection of Urdu short stories. Her earlier translations have been competent and quite often lyrical. For instance, Akhtar Hussain Raipuri’s Gard-e-Rahh (the dust of the road) and Sajjad Zaheer’s Roshnai ( the Light ) are noteworthy for their tone.









