OPEN SPACES, including graveyards and shrines, had earlier become abodes of petty criminals like purse-snatchers, pickpockets and addicts. Now, due to the security measures taken by police, these places are once again being frequented by joggers and fresh air seekers.

The overwhelming population of the city belongs to the working class which due to financial constraints and other problems is believed to be reluctant to come out in the open for fresh air. The rest of the population and those who are fond of jogging and other healthy activities have given up this practice because of the fear of law-breakers.

Just one incident stirred the senior superintendent of police to action. A newly-wed couple was deprived of valuables by two young men in the Bagh-i-Jinnah recently. It was an eye-opener for the police chief who reacted quickly and comprehensively. He wrote a letter of apology to the couple, who would surely have been surprised by this act of the SSP. He also called a meeting and asked police officers to apprehend the culprits. He made it clear to his subordinates that he would not like to see such an incident again. He ordered that special attention should be paid to the safety and security of public parks and playlands. As a follow-up, police in uniform and plainclothes were deputed in parks and playgrounds, while Elite commandos were deputed in the Bagh-i-Jinnah.

Now public parks and playgrounds no longer give a deserted look; they are no more an abode of pickpockets and drug addicts as they were just a year before. The Lady Bagh near District Council, D-Grounds, Batala Colony Grounds, Kaleem Shaheed Park, Daccan Grounds, Al-Fateh Grounds, Qasmi Park and Golf Club are all being used by people as a source of health in this otherwise congested and polluted city.

Till the early 70s, the total area of open spaces in the city was about 803 acres, out of which 351 acres were covered by parks, both developed and semi-developed. Ninety-eight acres of open spaces were in the use of various educational institutions.

During the pre-partition days, most open spaces were situated in and around the Civil Lines, and their total area was 114.94 acres. The Civil Lines still has two open spaces spread over 45 acres each. Nowhere else in the city, an open space meant for the public has an area of more than 16 acres. There are numerous small open spaces of various sizes covering an area of 86.28 acres in Ghulam Muhammadabad — the largest being above 15 acres and the smallest less than four acres.

People’s Colony has 32 open spaces of varying sizes over 98 acres. There are 20 open spaces in Labour Colony and D-Type Colony, covering a total area of 23.16 acres. The total area allocated for open spaces in these colonies is considerable on the face of it, but it is not enough. The city requires more parks and grounds for games and sports.

Even the educational institutions, including the Agriculture University, have only 76 acres of open spaces which can be used as playgrounds. There is acute shortage of sports grounds for college students. Since the 80s, not a single school or college has been set up with an open space. During the same period, only one park along the Rakh Branch Canal on the Faisalabad-Samundri Road was developed. While the countdown on open spaces is increasing, town planners and civic agencies seem to be unaware of the alarming trend.

The defunct Faisalabad Municipal Corporation established a parks and horticulture cell last year for the maintenance of greenbelts and parks besides development of neglected areas. It is being run by a director, a magistrate, a municipal architect, a deputy director, a garden superintendent, three garden inspectors and 636 mali/beldars. There are a total 157 big and small parks and 34 greenbelts in the city.

A round of the city reveals that almost 90 per cent of the parks, greenbelts have been developed, upgraded and beautified by the tehsil municipal administration with the financial assistance of private companies.

Since lack of open spaces has no direct impact on the economic and social life of a city, the importance of open spaces is usually not appreciated properly. Faisalabad faces a similar situation. Since partition this key aspect of the civil life here has been neglected. In the colonies planned after partition, sufficient attention has not been paid to open spaces.

At present, the city is spread over 52,142 acres with a population of 2,318,433 which is 42 per cent of the district population while the total area of the district is 5,856 square kilometres with a population density of 927 persons per square kilometre as against 515 persons observed during the last census in the district.

According to town planners, with the increasing population and dwindling open spaces in urban localities, there is an urgent need to develop a new town in the city with open spaces and other civic amenities as the citizens have not seen any town developed with full necessities for the last two-and-a-half decades.

MOENJODARO’s fate hangs in the balance with the collapse of the Authority for the Preservation of Moenjodaro on Sept 30, 1997. Justice Abdul Qadir Sheikh headed it at the time. Infighting between the Department of Archaeology and other organizations had resulted in neglect of the actual task of preserving the site.

Zulfikar Ali Bhutto had created a body with wide-ranging operations, which later evolved into the Authority for the Preservation of Moenjodaro (APM) on June 4, 1974.

The Moenjodaro site is spread over an area of three million square metres. Barely 10 per cent of it has been excavated. Under the Master plan, the APM utilized $23,500. Its main task was to control the River Indus and develop the site for tourism. Foreign assistance and know-how was sought.

Through seminars and workshops, it was decided to construct seven spurs on the right bank of the River Indus and dig a circular drain around the site to prevent waterlogging and salinity which had damaged the site.

After the death of Z.A. Bhutto, the site was again neglected by the senior officials of the Archaeology Department. Only five spurs were constructed. The meagre allocations reflected the department’s apathy. Differences between the men-in-charge aggravated the situation.

Millions of rupees were spent on implementing the proposal of a German, Michael Jansen, to dig a circular drain around Moenjodaro and set up a pumping station to drain away water into the Dadu Canal. The two inauguration ceremonies of the station by dignitaries speaks of the seriousness of the officials.

The exercise proved a failure when seepage started inside the structures of the site and damaged them, burdening the APM with huge power bills of Rs10 million per annum. The drain developed cracks. Tubewells installed around the site were closed and the drain dried up. Big electric motors were either stolen or found to be defective. The entire project of constructing a circular drain and tubewells is now dead along with the main pumping station, whose huge motors have become rusted.

The Japan Fund and United Nations Development Fund next stepped in to extend funds to carry out preservation and conservation work at Moenjodaro to save it from the imminent danger of waterlogging and salinity.

The Moenjodaro Conservation Cell (MCC) as a subsidiary of the UNDP was established, with a staff of 67, in 1992 at Moenjodaro. Syed Hakim Shah Bokhari was its director. A huge staff — which included engineers, supervisors, and site attendants — was appointed and trained by British, German, Japanese, and American engineers. Some of the engineers were sent abroad for essential training.

Differences again erupted between the MCC and the Department of Archaeology when both agencies clashed over as to who was authorized to carry out the excavation work at the site.

Without any guidance, the project and site remained in a dismal condition except during the brief period of Larkana commissioner Nazar Hussain Mahat. With his efforts, the National Fund for Moenjodaro (NFM) was activated although differences with the Department of Archaeology remained. Funds were raised locally. Besides, with the technical support of the NFM and with the constitution of a new body some work was achieved. The dried up lawns turned green, potable water was supplied, the closed canteen was reopened, and an international phone facility was installed.

However, when Mr Mahat was transferred from Larkana, these facilities started to deteriorate.

The Department of Archaeology from the time of its formation had already begun to place hurdles in the NFM’s path. Dr Kaleem Lashari, secretary of the execution work at Moenjodaro, tried to quell the tension. However, the secretary of the NFM phoned the site director on Sept 24 ordering him to cease all activities.

The preservation of the ailing world heritage site was halted on the orders of the secretary, Culture and Tourism, Sindh, who told the project director of the NFM, Mohan Lal, and around 39 of its employees to leave.

The project had been formed only a few months back.

IT was Saira Hashmi’s baby and she had been nurturing it for a good 12 years. But then her vocal chords somehow refused to cooperate preventing her from calling out to her baby. But earlier this month when Dr Agha Sohail picked up courage and gave it a loving nod, it came scampering. As a consequence there was a large gathering of the Bazm-i-Hamnafsaan at Agha Suhail’s residence last weekend. And the best part of it was that Saira Hashmi was also seen there after an absence of almost a year.

Among others present I noticed the psychologist, Dr Attiya Syed, the chief editor of the monthly Adab-i-Latif, Siddiqa Begum, another editor, Shaista Hasan, who produces the Shohar-i-Namdar, and a host of poets including Karamat Bokhari, Murtaza Barlas, Shahid Wasti, Dr Khurshid Rizvi and Aslam Kamal.

It was also niced to see Maimoona Ansari attending the session after a long absence. The programme was conducted by the artist and haiko poet, Sheba Taraz, whose mother, the well known writer, novelist and editor of the monthly Tajdeed-i-Nau, Azra Asghar, was also there having come down from Islamabad. Others from outside Lahore were the two stalwarts of Vehari who are producing the quarterly Adab-i-Aaliya and offering it, or trying to offer it, at 250 rupees per copy.

The programme started with veteran writer Syed Qasim Mahmood presenting a short story, Mera Aklota Beita. It was not only well written but also swell delivered. It received deserved applause. After him, Prof Abdul Karim Khalid read a paper on modern Urdu short story. But that was not the end of it. Immediately after him, a young lecturer started delivering a memorized lecture on the same subject. He had no eye contact with the audience and kept mumbling to himself in monotones. After him, I saw another young man fidgeting in his seat ready to utter his words of wisdom. At the same time Sheba Taraz announced that there would also be a muzakira or discussion after that. And since I know how greatly people are in love with their own voice, I feared the sitting would end up around midnight, especially with so many poets around who would also ask for their pound of flesh. I had no option but to come away but happy, all the same, that the Bazam-i-Hamnafsaan had been revived.