| December 16, 2002 | Monday | Shawwal 11, 1423 |
The Professor’s ‘postscript’
About Karachi’s ‘traffic culture’
Art Theatre may revive city’s pride
Police follies in Saddar
Karachi will soon have a modern and well-designed theatre which will be a pride for the city. The Karachi Art Theatre nearing completion in the Arts Council of Pakistan premises has been named after the Moscow Art Theatre, whose founder “Konstantin Stanislavsky, admittedly had more widespread influence in the 20th century acting and theatre movement than any other theorist.” Hopefully the Karachi Art Theatre will be the precursor of a similar movement.
In today’s Iran the media, the students, the judiciary and the religious conservatives make a fascinating and colourful political bouquet. The journalists, even those who work in government newspapers take pride in having worked in newspapers that were ordered to be closed down by the judiciary for propagating reformist ideas. The students take pride in actively participating in the process of change that is going on in their country. The judiciary draws its powers from the constitution and gives its own rigid interpretation to the rules that govern the Iranian society. And the religious conservatives draw their inspiration from the fundamentals of Islam.
One witnessed a fascinating political process in the country with all the main actors making no bones about what they aim to achieve at the end of this process, but all insisting at the same time that patience and tolerance was the name of the game. With an on-the-spot study of the situation on a week-long visit to Iran at the invitation of the Islamic Republic it is not possible to uncover all the layers of the complex conflicts and contradictions that continue to beset the Iranian society at this stage in time, still one could clearly see a proud nation marching ahead confidently despite all the odds that it is faced with both internally as well externally.
In a way, in Iran, too, like in Pakistan, a tug of war is going on between those who have the mandate of the people on the one hand and those who believe that they have been ordained by God to lead their nation on the other. The reformists in Iran take their inspiration from President Mohammad Khatami who won the last election, perhaps, with 80 per cent of popular vote. The conservatives on the other hand have so far succeeded in clinching the argument by making it appear as if you cannot modernize without compromising on Islam’s fundamental principles. So do not take the road to modernism without guidance from religious teachings, they insist.
The cases of Dr Hashem Aghajari, who is accused of introducing the ideas of “Islamic Protestantism” and the Pollsters, who came up with the results that people in Iran want dialogue with the US, are talked about freely in the media and among intellectual circles in the country. A group of intellectuals believe that the only way to ensure the progress of the country is to abide by the concept of moderation. Radicalism, they say, is indicative of a chaotic and unstable social behaviour while the very spirit of moderation underscores adherence to the rule of law. They also insist that radicalism in all its forms must be abandoned if the country is to be navigated towards spiritual perfection and all-out development. On the other hand Resalat, a publication in a commentary entitled ‘A Reminder’ noted that since May 23, 1997 (the day when Mohammad Khatami was elected as the president of the republic for the first time), the conservative faction has underlined the need for changing the political structure of the reformist camp. The reformist camp has perpetually sheltered political elements with different and sometimes even contradictory ideals, the paper recalled. It also claimed that some people have attempted to create chaos within the society under the banner of reforms. Commenting on the case of Pollsters whose court hearings started recently another newspaper Aftab-e- Yazd recalled that some sections of the print media have from the very beginning insisted that the defendants are hundred per cent guilty of spying while others have maintained that the case is of a political nature. It also recalled that some sections of the print media have previously focused on opinion polls carried out by Gallup, which is in this case accused of having Zionist links. It seems that irrespective of their origin those opinion polls which verify the viewpoints of some domestic groups are valid while those opinion polls which call for a revision of certain policies are to be ignored, the publication added. Meanwhile, former judiciary chief Ayatollah Mohammad Yazdi has called for treason charges against the three pollsters who are being tried for allegedly passing up secret information to foreign countries. The case involves former student leader in the takeover of US embassy in Tehran, Abbas Abdi, as well as Hossein Qazian, Behrouz Geranpayeh and Alireza Alavitabar of the Ayandeh Research Institute. The defendants are accused of carrying out the survey on the order of Washington- based Gallup Organization as well as tampering with the results of the survey. On the other hand the second vice speaker of the Majlis, Mohammad Reza Khatami has said that according to the rule of law the only source for identifying spies and cases of espionage is the information ministry. He further said that the court has refrained from accepting the information ministry’s legal role and inculcated the notion within the public opinion that the dossier is of a political orientation. He also criticized the judiciary for not allowing a free conversation between the defendants and their lawyers. Meanwhile, a revolutionary court has reportedly decided to condemn three detained members of the nationalist-religious groups to death and others to lengthy prison terms. Several activists of the banned groups were arrested last year and later charged with serious offences including “espionage, attempts to undermine state security and interest...” The arrests set off a wave of protests in campuses and reformists lobbies and were also condemned by intellectuals and lawmakers. Some believe that if the new death warrants are issued it could result in fresh protests against the state both at home and abroad. “The country paid a heavy price after courts sentenced Dr Aghajari to death,” said one Iranian intellectual.
Meanwhile, an intense debate is going on in Iran over whether or not to lift the ban on satellite TV. The reformists pushing for lifting of the ban argue that greater freedom results in greater knowledge. The opponents insist that greater awareness would make the society more dependent, damaging national security and integrity in the long run. A proposal tabled in the Majlis proposed using the technique which Malaysia had used couple of years ago to keep the undesirable channels from being accessed by the citizens. But since these techniques have, in the meanwhile, been outdated the conservatives believe that people would easily find ways of bypassing restrictions. The reformists, therefore, ask whether the governments are entitled to prescribe how their nations should think and what they should see and whether social affairs will improve by enforcing restraints or prohibitions or encouraging public participation and respecting their choices.—Onlooker
I HAVE received longish letter from Prof. M. Rashid, many years ago my teacher in economics at the Government College, Lahore. The letter, let me hasten to add, does not make cheerful reading. You can’t after all, be happy or make others happy when you have just turned 83. The professor, known for his sartorial elegance as a young lecturer at college, finally ends up with a loincloth that leaves little to the imagination. It is not for me to chronicle Prof. Rashid’s brilliant career. I have had the privilege only of sharing with him a few cups that cheer but I hope to goodness that when I turned 83, I will not make you half as sad as the professor. There already are indications that I will do nothing of the sort. He calls his letter The Postscript. I hope the professor will do another postscript on his 103rd birthday.
The Professor begins:
On December 1, I was 83 years old. At this age, energy fails. This is the reason why sometimes I find myself more and more occupied with the past. Perhaps it is but natural when the future must inevitably be so short and the past so long. My activities have been reduced to reading books and stories. Aches and pains afflict the body. I bear them stoically. My reveries tend to be concerned with my long past. I have done what I wanted to do but a few things I regret. I make an effort not to let them fret me. I say to myself that it is not I who did them, but a different I that I was then. I hurt some people but since I cannot repair the injuries I have done, I have tried to make amends by benefiting others.
These days I am more disposed to listen than to talk. Occasionally I am loquacious but am often the victim of garrulity. But I try to correct it. I do not force my company on the young. I like to be with my contemporaries. I have surrendered to the assault of time. Foolish old people behave with a nauseous frivolity when they indulge in loud talk. They make a nuisance of themselves by forcing their opinions on others. Old men are on sufferance and must walk warily. Fools don’t become less foolish when they become old and an old fool is infinitely more tiresome than a young one. It is strange that old fools do not realize that they should not prattle about and recount their exploits before the young. One of the compensations of old age is solitude. Ghalib knew it when he wrote: “Heh adami bajay khud, ik mehsharey khayal
Hum anjuman smajhatey hain, khilwat hee kiyun na ho
If I am invited to parties or weddings, I either refuse to go and if I do so reluctantly I make it under pressure, I slink away quietly. These have ceased to entertain. I avoid large gatherings such as convocations in the college where I taught for years. I have addressed meetings, delivered lectures, distributed prizes and trophies but now I am not able to do so. The last time I attended a big meeting was on August 15, 2002, when Ms Arundhati Roy delivered a lecture in the Pearl Continental, Lahore, It was a brilliant exposition of the folly and cruelty of governments to the citizens around the world. It was a rewarding experience: they continue to ruin their lives by persisting in actions that cause hurtful pain. The notion that pain ennobles is absurd.
Nietzsche, with his glorification of suffering, is like the fox in the fable who had lost his tail. His arguments that pain strengthens the character resolves itself into the fact that a man who has suffered, wants revenge. What he takes for strength is merely the pleasure he finds in inflicting upon others the anguish he has himself endured. Men are mean, petty, muddle-headed, ignoble, bestial from their cradles to their death-beds, ignorant slaves now of one superstition, now of another, and ill-bred, selfish and cruel.
If I were asked which of the sights that had moved me to tears, I would refer to the cruelty I have seen in India and Pakistan. It is the landless peasant, terribly emaciated, with nothing to cover his nakedness, but a rag round his middle the colour of sun-baked earth he tilled, the peasant shivering in the cold of dawn, sweating in the heat of noon, working still as the sun set red over the parched fields, the peasant toiling without a break in the north, in the south, in the east and in the west, toiling over the vastness of South Asia, toiling as he had toiled from father to son for three thousand years when the Aryans had first descended upon the region, toiling for a scant subsistence, his only hope of keeping body and soul together. That is the sight that had given me the most poignant emotion.
And yet all that the politicians talk about is the survival of democracy in South Asia. They claim to be possessed of a disinterested desire to serve their peoples. I was listening to some people the other day, discussing the chances of L.K. Advani of becoming prime minister of India. Is it not a frightening prospect? He is known for his pathological hatred of Muslims in India and Pakistan. His appeal is not to reason but to emotion, one would have thought that when measures that could decide the fate of millions were under consideration, it would be pure madness to allow opinion to be swayed by emotion rather than be guided by reason. Let us hope and pray that Advani, the irrational and conceited fool that he is, does not become prime minister of the so-called biggest democracy in the world. He is hawkish in spirit and has recently talked about fighting the fourth war with Pakistan. It is an alarming possibility.
Sometimes I see high overhead a pair of doves. On other occasions I have seen two monkeys sitting side by side on a branch with their tails hanging down. I have heard loud singing of birds which induces tranquillity. Why don’t we imitate the above reality of peace and build a world free from strife?
Wars have devastated millions throughout history. The sum of misery has been far, far greater than the sum of happiness. Man has constantly lived in a world of sorrow, in continual fear and danger of violent death. His life, as Hobbes said, has been nasty, brutish and short.
The first World War ended when I was born in 1919. It was followed by the second War in 1939. The United States dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 which ended the war. Now we are witnessing the preparations for an American assault on Iraq after the killings in Afghanistan. India and Pakistan have already fought three wars since 1948 and Advani is threatening to start the fourth.
It is a grave situation full of perils. Many will perish but I have no capacity to deal with it. I do not find refuge in despair. I am like a passenger waiting for his ship at a war-time port. I do not know on which day it will sail, but I am ready to embark at a moment’s notice. I read the papers and flip the pages of a magazine. I do not try to make friends with new people from whom I shall soon be parted. I am on the wing.
Thus for the professor I read Saki quoted by Beverley Nichols in one of his books, “If you have reached 30, you have failed in life.”
IT was a spectacle that defied common sense — also belief. Staged last Friday was a ceremonial reception for a consignment of 32 large-size buses, imported on some very special concessions accorded by government to private enterprise, or semi-private enterprise. These huge monsters on wheels are to be put on two of Karachi’s already traffic-choked roads.
With Governor Mohammadmian Soomro as the cheer leader, all who matter in Sindh and Karachi in the context of city transport, sang in chorus. The theme of that exotic song was that these 32 behemoths were to change the ‘transport culture of Karachi’. And presumably, thereby, these imported buses would change the ‘transport culture’ of this Islamic republic. If there is anything like absurdity on stilts, this was it.
Now, make no mistake. There is no such thing in Karachi as ‘transport culture’. What this city does have is, thanks largely to the governor and his provincial government’s traffic department (muddling along), traffic CHAOS. This has to be stated in capital characters. In this city alone an average of three lives are lost daily, thanks to this ‘traffic culture’. This chaos is also writ large all over the ‘traffic culture’ of our country.
Hardly a day passes without the newspapers wailing about buses falling in ravines, canals, rivers or just bumping into other buses and, quite often, killing dozens, sometimes scores in one single crash. We are no stranger to incidents in which whole marriage parties, or groups of pilgrims on way to holy shrines, get wiped out in one traffic accident. You call this ‘traffic culture’, Mr Governor, Mr Nazim, Mr Traffic Secretary? Your concept of culture must be awfully outlandish.
Mismanagement of road traffic in Karachi is one of the most audaciously perpetrated conspiracies against this city and, through this city, against the traffic management ‘culture’ of the whole country. As it happens, Karachi sets the style for ideas related to city governance. In this traffic muddle there are many hands, visible and some not so visible. The most visible hand is that of the road transport mafia. This mafia had all but gobbled up the Pakistan Railway. It did push the PR to the brink of catastrophe. That mafia is still at work and the PR is not out of danger.
Karachi City Nazim Naimatullah Khan may be a man wedded to tradition. But he does have at least a nodding acquaintance with the way urban transport is managed in major civilized cities the world over. Governor Mohammadmian Soomro and Nazim advocate Naimatullah Khan have been requested time and again to name just one city in the world the size of Karachi without an urban railway system. This straight question is being addressed to them once again.
They may rest assured that this question will keep coming back to them again and again. This is not an empty promise.
Putting 32 huge buses, with the threat of more on the way, is hard to distinguish from folly. Anyone who has the slightest idea of life in Karachi, and its two main traffic routes running through the heart of this city of 140 million people, knows that there is no room for a straw in the traffic jungle on these highways. How do you find room for huge buses? And why must you add more buses when already they are jammed, bumper-to-bumper all the time? The only plausible answer is that bribes or other incentives may be at work.
No sane person can deny the fact that Karachi’s main roads just cannot take any more traffic — whether moving vehicles or moving human beings — without causing the existing chaos to get lethally worse. What is needed is to take traffic off the roads, not add to it huge vehicles. Any moron can understand this. Why cannot our top bureaucrats see what hits the eye is indeed very hard to figure out and speak of in polite terms?
The moment one mentions the name of Karachi Circular Railway, what one gets from the government side is a string of evasions, prevarications, excuses and absurd theorizing about financing an urban rail system. Alongside these mumblings, one hears of esoteric theories about rail systems that are too exotic even for the most advanced countries and governments. Elevated rail, mono-rail, railways in the skies and what have you. All this is outrage on common sense as also on basic honesty.
There was a city rail system in Karachi. Vested interests of the road transport mafia had it throttled by the hands of purchasable bureaucracy that sat over the KCR. Instead of improving what was functioning and building on it, those who were responsible for running the KCR succumbed to temptation and destroyed it as a calculated plot.
If they can run urban rail system in Bombay, and underground systems in Calcutta and Cairo, why not in Karachi? If the answer is not corruption and dishonesty, the governor and the city Nazim are invited to provide another answer. They have also to clarify why this question, posed again and again, has failed to elicit an answer? Listen to this. Any feasible commercial proposition is assured of finance. If urban rail systems are good investment all over the world, why not in Karachi?
Millions of rupees have been spent on building flyovers and other facilities in anticipation of improvement and expansion of the KCR that was once functioning. Now the KCR has been destroyed. It is time somebody instituted a thorough inquiry to establish why KCR was destroyed, by whom and for what good reason? The correct name for what the Nazim describes as Karachi’s ‘traffic culture’ is conspiracy against Karachi’s transport and its 140 million people.
Before independence, Lahore and Karachi had branches of the Indian Progressive Theatre Association. In Lahore Chetan Anand and in Karachi A.K Hangal were the moving spirit behind these units. In both these cities these theatre groups staged quality plays. In the Government College Lahore mostly English and occasionally Urdu dramas were staged. Lahore also had the distinction of having the well known and large North Western Railways Orchestra. Karachi had the Katrak Hall and another two halls near Kharadar, where Bombay’s top theatre companies like Victoria Theatre Company (of K.N.Kabra) and Alfred Theatre Co. performed when they visited the city.
Besides these, there was an Allied Theatre Hall where, after Partition, the performers of the old theatres continued to stage legendary plays. The Parsis contributed with their Gujrati dramas. Immediately after Independence, Karachi as well as Lahore lost interest in drama as most middle class Hindus and Sikhs left for India. In the early fifties a vacuum existed. Fortunately two dramatists emerged in 1951-52. Khwaja Moinuddin in Karachi produced high quality plays. His first play Taleem-i- Balighan was followed by Lal Qila Se’ Lalukhet, Mirza Ghalib Bunder Road Per and others. These were immensely popular and were performed hundreds of times.
In Lahore (1957) Ali Ahmad staged several progressive plays like Zat-i-Sharif, Subah Hone’ Tak, Shamat-i-Aamal etc. He moved to Karachi in 1958 and founded a theatre group by the name of AGAT (re-named NATAK). Numerous plays were staged under its auspices. They were highly rated by the critics and dealt with social and political issues.
In Lahore in the fifties Safdar Mir and Izhar Kazmi also produced plays. In the following decade Naeem Tahir, Kamal Ahmed Rizvi, Shoib Hashmi, Rashid Umar Thanvi, Khalid Butt and many others started staging dramas. In Rawalpindi Agha Babar kept drama alive. Karachi in the same period had Intizar Husain, Samad Yar Khan, Hameed Wyne, Ibrahim Yusuf and others. In the fifties and sixties again, KATS and the Clifton Players theatre groups presented English dramas regularly. Zia Mohiuddin and Aslam Azhar were the moving spirit here.
Later, for various reasons, mainly for lack of support from the government, most of the pioneers left the field and engaged themselves in other pursuits. This space was occupied by numerous small groups that started presenting poor quality, crude and vulgar plays in Gujrati and Memoni. The same story was repeated in Lahore with Punjabi and Urdu dramas. These plays had practically no scripts. Surprisingly, this was the period when there was martial law in the country and Islamic values were emphasised day in and day out. Some heroic attempts are now being made in Karachi by serious and high-minded groups.
In this context, the establishment of the Karachi Art Theatre is a very good news. The building has been designed by the well known Architect Mr. Aqeel Bilgrami. Construction was started in 1991 but the work remained suspended until last year, when it commenced again with the generous assistance of the federal and Sindh governments. At the planning stage in 1991, extensive discussions were held with the practitioners of theatre to ascertain their requirements.
The hall has a seating capacity for 480. The seats are in a semi circle shape. This arrangement is considered ideal for a clear view of the stage and from the acoustic point of view. The floor is covered with vinyl tiles which will absorb any noise that ushers and late comers may make while walking. All seats are fixed and movement of those sitting will not disturb others in the audience or the actors on the stage. The wings will have black colour covering, eliminating any distraction for the audience. Lighting in the hall and on the stage have been imaginatively planned and will be provided by an experienced company. Acoustics similarly are of very highly quality. Air-conditioning will be completely noiseless.
The stage is the best part of the theatre. With a dimension suitable for all variety of dramas but not for concerts and Jalsas. The flooring is of fully seasoned high quality wood. The sets on the stage can be changed by a hydraulic system within minutes, while the attention of the audience is still focussed. Four different sets can be lifted up and lowered during a performance. The stage has even a hollow stage beneath where a character of the play can disappear if so required by the script. The Control Room for the director and the place where the prompter will be placed have digital communication systems. This means that they can communicate with the actors on stage without any distraction for the audience.
At the back of the stage there are changing rooms, separately for male and female actors, with complete facilities including connected sound system which will indicate the time at which they have to enter the stage. At another level four rooms will be available for accommodating the visiting theatre groups. In the foyer, space is available for a bookshop, a souvenir shop and for display of paintings and photographs.
The magnificent building of the Karachi Art Theatre can not by itself create great enthusiasm for serious theatre in Karachi. Much more will have to be done to make it an institution which can generate a theatre movement. First, those who control the affairs of the Arts Council should wholeheartedly accept it as a theatre and not insist on using it as an auditorium, which it is definitely not. They should also provide full opportunity to the few members of the Arts Council from the performing arts field to manage the theatre in their own light for at least two to three years. During this period the Arts Council should not expect profits but provide subsidy to the institution.
Secondly, the government must relax the provisions of the Performance Act of 1876, which requires a No-Objection Certificate and submission of the script for censorship to semi-literate officials.
Thirdly, the provincial government should exempt it from payment of entertainment tax, which in any case will add very little to its income. It is wrong to treat serious theatre as mere entertainment. It does entertain of course, but more importantly it creates awareness of societal and humanitarian issues and makes the audiences think and reflect on them.
You never know how bad things are until they happened to you. Of course every young man growing up in Karachi, or motorist, must have been stopped by the police or some law-enforcement agency at some time in his life for ‘checking’. That’s perfectly fine since the whole idea of a check-post is to screen passing vehicles.
However, the other day I had to rush to Rainbow Centre in Saddar to check some Play Station 2 games. I was coming out, and heading towards my car and on the way came across a thela selling some sumptuous looking guavas. I had just told the vendor to give me a couple when I noticed two policemen riding a motorbike drive by, look at my cellophane bag, slow down, reverse slightly and come towards me.
“Iss mein kya hai,” the one sitting at the back, with a Kalashnikov dangling over his left shoulder, asked in quite a rude tone.
I told him rather nonchalantly that he couldn’t ask me since this wasn’t a designated checkpost and I wasn’t exactly in my car. They thought probably that they could go around wherever they want and stop whoever they could. Actually, I had been told by the movie shopkeepers in Rainbow Centre that the area around the plaza was particularly notorious since the policemen not only had young men coming out, potentially, with all kinds of videos to prey upon but also many out of town travellers walking to the nearby inter-city bus stand.
Whenever you talk to the police in a confident way, they begin to wonder who you might connected to or what is that you do, or at least that’s seems to have been my experience. And I was in no mood to argue with them in any case. But the cop driving the bike made it easier because he asked me what I did. “Mein journalist hoon.”
As soon as I said that they asked me for identification and I happily showed them my press card and the harassment ended. And to avoid his embarrassment and sound all high and mighty, the cop sitting behind told me “tau pehlay kiyun naheen bataya, aap ko apna press card pehn kur chalna chahiye”. I didn’t want to laugh and embarrass him further but did tell him again that he could not stop people off the street just like that and ask them to open their shopping bags.
Now unfortunately, not everyone in Karachi has a press card. Some would say, maybe even the police PRO, that I should have at least noted down the names of these policemen so that action could be taken against them. But how many names can Karachi’s residents take down before action is taken against these errant cops. As a colleague at work rightly pointed out: always beware of cops riding around on a motorcycle in twos.
Moral of the story: don’t walk around Empress Market or Rainbow Centre with a plastic bag.
A colleague had a terrible time on Eid day. This happened because he lives close to a bakery from which emanates a very disturbingly annoying sound. And the problem is that the noise comes all the time, all day all night and is on the verge of driving him crazy. This is what he told the Notebook:
“Today is Eid day. I am sitting in front of my computer to write about my sufferings. I have been going through hell for the last one year and my nightmare doesn’t seem to end. I live just of Zamzama Boulevard, home to the city’s hippest restaurants and glitziest boutiques.
“Scratch the surface, however, and you will find filth, garbage and overflowing sewers in front of most popular outlets or food franchises. What has been driving myself and others on my street crazy is the deafening noise from the big exhaust fan at a popular bakery. The owner installed the exhaust to offer comfort to her six workers but residents and workers in the street’s various shops and offices have been driven crazy by the noise. The exhaust fan starts at six in the morning and remains on till 8 pm. There is no respite from the racket, whether it is Sunday, a national holiday or even Eid.
“The bakery people work 365 days of the year. And we also have to suffer the racket every day of the year. In front of bakery are rows of nice potted plants, giving the impression to people that it is an environment-conscious business. But if you go to the back of the bakery, you will realize how much it contributes to the overall noise pollution in the city. A month ago, we the residents of the street, gave an application to the Director Vigilance of the DHA drawing his attention to this problem. Unfortunately, no one took any interest. The noise continued relentlessly throughout Ramazan and on chand raat. It is difficult to describe what we have endured as a result. The constant noise continues to haunt us even in our sleep.
“It’s just like living in a torture camp. Even perfectly calm people like me have been driven so mad by the noise that I feel like doing something crazy and violent in response. However, I know I will not do so because I am like most other citizens who silently suffer everything from lawlessness to the selfishness of people and the government. All that people like us can do is suffer and pay more taxes without getting anything in return. The woman who owns the bakery could have spared us all this nightmare by buying a more effective and expensive fan like other shopkeepers. Those who frequent her outlet for the delicious fare have no idea of the suffering the neighbours have to endure while the bakery produces its wares.
“But who cares? She should continue to make more money, save more money and the people should continue to eat and eat while the DHA keeps itself busy trying [read pretend] to make the environment better by hanging up banners to tell people that in the Defence area there’s now a ban on buying and selling of polythene bags.
“Khilaf warzi karnay walay ko qanoon kay hawaly kiya jaiga!”
Would a painted satellite dish qualify as a work of art? Well that’s what a new exhibition at the Gulgee Museum — it runs through the middle of this week — would seem to suggest.
Around 20 young and not-so-young painters took part in ‘Dish dhamaka’. I must admit that I went to the opening with more than a bit of scepticism. After all, anyone can just paint a satellite dish — heck, even I could — and call it ‘art’. (Note the recent debate in the UK where the Turner Prize-winning installation was called “conceptually a piece of bull——” by Britain’s culture minister.)
Well, to be fair, the works on display were actually quite good, although I’m not sure how many people would actually buy them and put them up in their homes.
The best by far was Munawwar Ali’s work, ‘Delicious Dish’ (see picture) placed in the middle of the gallery. The dish was painted beige and had a large red apple in the middle. The apple was surrounded by cherubic faces rising from the satellite dish’s metal. Very different and very well done.
Also worth mentioning was Tapu Javeri and Mahnaz Diwan’s collaboration ‘Pollination’, Amin Gulgee’s ‘Inquisition’ — a golden-coloured dish with a pointed metal node coming at you, and Ayesha Khan’s multicoloured swirling ‘Lollipop’.
An irate reader sent in an e-mail accusing the Notebook of selling out to the traffic police. I can’t seem to remember what would have made him thought that since the only issue that has been covered of late relating to this issue has been a seminar on traffic management.
In any case, Mazhar Ahmed wrote to the Notebook: “Have you aligned yourself with traffic police? It’s total chaos on the roads and you are quiet, why? It’s pathetic to be on the road, there is no enforcement of any law at all. What we see in newspapers is that the top brass of the traffic police is opening clinics, schools and busy in other welfare work. Good, if they want to do that then they should resign from the police and join some NGO. Why they don’t do their primary job which is to regulate the traffic and enforce the law.”
Postscript: A treat is in store for movie buffs this week with the Kara Film Festival running till next Sunday. Among the films to be shown will be The Warrior, winner of the Jury Prize at Cannes and Britain’s official entry for the 2003 Oscars and a Merchant Ivory production of V.S. Naipual’s The Mystic Masseur. Also recommended is Bilal Manto and actor Faisal Rahman’s World Ka Centre, on a day in the life of young man in Lahore on Sept. 11..
—By Karachian
Email: karachi_notebook@hotmail.com