Acid attacks on the rise

INCIDENTS of acid attack are on the rise in this area. About 10 such cases have been reported during the past one month. These have so far claimed two lives while a number of men, women and children are in a serious condition due to acid burns. Many of them have lost their eyesight, and their faces have been disfigured.

An important factor is that police do not move fast against the culprits with the result that the accused escape and manage to get bail before arrest. The affected people have to appeal repeatedly to police highups to bring the culprits to book. A number of such seriously injured persons are still under treatment in hospitals. Being penniless, they are unable to buy the necessary medicines, and nobody comes to their help.

According to a study, the motives behind such attacks are usually rivalry, jealousy and frustration. Even children are not spared. Such inhuman acts are aimed at defacing an individual and then seeing his suffering. Even if the police apprehend the culprits, the latter come out of jail within a short time after the acceptance of their bail applications by courts. The stage of their punishment takes many years during which period either the victims succumbs to his burns or is forced to compromise.

In such cases, the police should challan accused under anti-terrorist act and the courts should expedite the trial of the accused, and the victims should be treated without charges in government hospitals. NGOs should also come forward and help the suffering families, besides providing the poor victims with legal help to contest their cases in the courts.

THE unscheduled loadshedding for domestic consumers in the city and its suburbs for the past one month has added to the suffering of the people during the current summer season.

Multan Electricity Power Company officials never notify the schedule for loadshedding. It is observed that the loadshedding is effected during midday, at prayer time and in the morning when the government employees have to get ready to go to office. During night time also this practice is repeated. Loadshedding duration varies from place to place. The posh areas are almost exempted from this practice while the walled city, mohajir colonies and Satellite Town are subjected to stepmotherly treatment. It is also agonizing that during loadshedding, when the Mepco telephone complaint numbers are dialled, the consumers invariably find the phones engaged as Mepco employees put the receivers aside to avoid taking the trouble of answering the calls.

Mepco officials are apathetic to the consumers’ woes. Often due to unannounced loadshedding, consumers are unable to offer their prayers due to non-availability of water. It is generally observed that Mepco officials through the Government Public Relations Department make an incomplete announcement only to inform the public that due to “annual repair” of the grid stations, the supply of electricity will remain suspended. This announcement is not enough. The officials should announce a loadshedding schedule clearly indicating the timings so that the people could plan accordingly.

During the previous years, the telephone office had a standby generator. Its petrol expenses were also met by PTCL. But now, PTCL and its officials do not care for the difficulties of the people particularly the correspondents of the national dailies. Correspondents have to wait for power restoration, which causes an inordinate delay in the transmission of their news. PTCL should arrange a generator for the convenience of the people.

Midsummer thoughts on a tough city

Karachi’s midsummer thoughts. A midsummer madness? or almost that. Midsummer daydreams? Arguably this is amongst the worst times of the year in this city, say many people who have watched this city for almost half a century. The system just cannot take the weather, and that makes people crack. They cannot take the awful pressure of the package: that is to say, a congested city that is not geared to take extremes of climate.

As one writes at the end of June, there are at least two headlines that call for attention. There is one that says “90 per cent Pakistanis sure of corruption in government depts: World Bank”. The other says that “CM annoyed at water, electricity crises in city.” One cannot resist some more headlines to indicate what is really happening: “Rangers notify tanker rates.” Remember tanker mafia? And before one proceeds to reflect on midsummer, on the mood of the city, and general way in which life has been in May and June, 2003, here is a glimpse of what Dawn Metropolitan said on 28th June (yesterday). “Six die after consuming contaminated food, water. Edhi sets up Camp” and that “city to get 60 mgd less from Dhabeji” and “No respite from power failures.” Don’t judge life here by Clifton ‘Lifestyle’.

That should give us some idea of the kind of summer that we have, and the way Karachiites brave through it. It gets worse every year with no signs of any immediate or early relief.

However, some relief comes from the fact that these two difficult months are over, and there is the dreamy sight of clouds up on our blue skies, which makes one naturally imagine a healthy and heavy rainfall. There is not the slightest doubt that the city needs this change. Not just because of the point that they justify an overeating of mangoes for those whose passion and mania for them is always a sight to watch. But because Karachiites need that respite from this relentless stretch of warm, suffocating weather. That Karachi sea breeze is often little consolation contend even those who assert that it makes such a difference in terms of the summer that Lahore or Islamabad have. There is no breeze there. ‘But Islamabad has relief by the rain that it gets periodically,’ envies one Karachiite who doesn’t go to the federal capital that often.

As one writes this column there is at the back of the mind that Time weekly focus on Karachi in the June 16 issue which was headlined thus: Karachi: Asia’s roughest, toughest town”. Which made many argue that it was a one sided story. Was it?

Strangely enough for all that has been said in that piece, Karachi is a lively city where people do go out at night, and it still remains a city of lights despite the power failures! It is in summer, at this time of the year, which is vacation time, especially with schools and colleges being closed, that in almost all parts of the large city, there are scores of images that reflect the point that the citizens of this rough, tough town are tough people themselves. Never say die! Little wonder that despite what the foreign media has been saying all these years, people from all over the country still come to the city in hundreds daily, says one proud Karachiite; and there is no shortage of them. Incredible?

But let us return to this midsummer angle. There is now the presence of clouds above, grey and ominous, often giving us some beautiful sunsets especially if one has an eye for the camera. This monsoon thought is also a worrying thought, if the city government has not prepared itself for the rains that could come. It could become yet another nightmare as indeed it has on many occasions in the past.

One is reminded of the floods that ravaged Karachi in June 1977, on the 30th of that month. And in fact that year there was recorded a very heavy rainfall. That wasn’t the only occasion for this kind of experience that Karachi lived through. In fact with time it has been felt that even very little rainfall upsets Karachi’s routine as much as is possible, because of a lack of infrastructure. The belief is that it doesn’t rain here, and that it is not worth bothering about; therefore the investment of time, effort and resources is not worth it.

But taking into account the fact that Karachi has been visibly developed in recent years, and there has been a substantial growth in terms of over-bridges, roads, maintenance, etc, it is certain that when it rains (if it rains) the Sindh capital will fare much better. That the rains will not bring the kind of misery that it has brought in the past. Is one being naive?

A psychologist opines that the kind of suffocating summer that Karachi has discourages people from putting in their best. But when do they actually put in their best? We ask pointing out that our standards of efficiency are amongst the lowest, and that work ethics is poor, and that attitudes to work are also appalling even at other times of the year; even in winter, while irritability and impatience take on saner, reasonable dimensions and shape. The psychologist explained that attitudes to work are determined not just by weather which is only an aggravating factor.

Of Course summer is not gone. Only ten weeks of the most frustrating side of summer are over. It now takes on another dimension and this has something to do with possible rain. In fact it continues until the end of October and that is when the month of Ramazan begins this year. And that is until when the current wedding season will last. This wedding season is somewhat different, if not altogether so, from the ones that we have seen in the last few years. The meals are back, lawfully, at marriages and related ceremonies, and so they are far more well attended, and the ceremonies and get-togethers continue until about two in the morning. It is natural to serve meals around or after midnight, and nobody seems upset about this. They all enjoy and in a wider perspective this reflects the way Karachi life goes on, especially in summer. Who cares? Who’s scared!

What sort of May and June has Karachi lived through this year? Politically speaking a Sindh government is in place and the city government is trying to adjust to it. In terms of culture and its merchants, there has been a good time for them, and in fact there have been numerous dubious award-giving ceremonies as well, reflecting the mutual admiration that seems to be flourishing. Not to mention their agendas that don’t come to the fore easily. The budgets have come and gone, prices have risen for reasons that have little or nothing to do with them, and another financial year has unfolded, almost.

On a lighter front, the mango season is in full swing, and were the monsoons to come on time, it would give to Karachiites the zing they want, which also comes from overeating Burns Road Nihari!

The ice pits of Lahore

NAMES speak so much about the history of people, their mode of production, and the very land itself. The walled city and its environs have fascinating names, each a story unto itself. Names describe professions and pastimes. One such name that always intrigued me I heard from my younger brother, who spent most of his waking hours playing football in the grounds of the Central Training College, just outside Bhati Gate.

In the 1970s we used to live in the Rattigan Road area, once considered a posh locality just outside the old walled city. In the place where today stands the Central Training College just behind the Central Model School, was the residence of Sir William Rattigan, and it might come as a surprise to many that he and his family lived in an old style bungalow with a genuine thatched roof, all very “old English”. One description of the house compares it to typical Suffolk thatched cottages. The house had the nameplate “Roselands”. It was an imposing residence by any standard. The people of Lahore used to call this area “Rattigan Sahib ki Kothi”. Another description terms it “Rattigan Sahib ki Bhooswali Kothi”. Later the British formally named it Rattigan Road. This was the house where the first Punjabi regiment formed by the British, the First Punjab Volunteers, was formed. This regiment was to play an important role in the 1857 uprising.

For those not familiar with Rattigan Road, suffice it to say that till just 40 years ago it housed the Parsi Temple, the house of the Syed family of Syed Babar Ali and the Jhang Syeds, the Khwaja family, the Abbasi family of doctors, the massive six-acre house of Col. Ata, the Sheikhs and other city influentials. Almost 100 years ago, it was definitely the most sought after area of Lahore. But even before Rattigan arrived and built his thatched house, the people of Lahore used to call this area “Purana Baraf Khana”. My brother informs me that the older people still call this area “Baraf Maidan”.

In the days of the Mughals and the Sikhs, this open area was called “Baraf Maidan”. When the British came in 1849, they for the first time formally marked this area out in maps as “Ice Pits”. In these pits, in a virtual pre-historic manner, ice was ‘manufactured’ in winter and stored underground. In summer it was distributed early in the morning. One description of this activity says: “The big plain was divided into smaller plots or “kiaris”, on which a layer of rice straw was spread. On this straw were arranged a number of shallow pans of burnt clay, all of them containing water. The pits were lined with thick layers of straw and were surrounded by low burnt brick walls. On this wall rested a very thick straw roof, known as a ‘chappar’.

“Between the walls and the edges of the pits ran narrow passages which enabled the carriers of ice burrows to distribute their daily loads at different points. At the bottom of each pit were men equipped with rakes and rammers who levelled the ice and consolidated it. The entrances of these pits were always carefully walled up after receiving its full load of ice.”

To man these ice pits and to care for them, a large number of poor families formed a sort of ‘katchi abadi’ just to the east of the shrine of Data Sahib. In these houses now dwell mostly Pathans who have settled in Lahore, and to the farther side is the famous colony of the “Eunuch Tribe” as they like to call themselves. People of Rattigan Road and Mohni Road have always called this place “Neutral Zone”. In this colony lives the ‘selected’ king of the eunuchs of Lahore. But that is another story.

The ice pit families were each allotted a number of pits. It was their duty to place clean boiled water in these shallow earthen vessels, to collect the frozen ice and to take them to the pits that led fairly deeply into the ground. Each family then had to, by the time summer came, collect a given amount of ice, so that it lasted well into the summer. In this manner the people of Lahore were supplied ice from the Rattigan Road “Baraf Maidan”.

The British also started another ice pit centre in the newly-constructed Central Jail on Jail Road. The entire Shah Jamal and Shadman area constituted the old central jail. Here a new series of pits were made, which supplied the cantonment and the British army with ice in summer. As the quality of water of this area was considered superior to that of the Rattigan Road, the “jailwali baraf” was slightly more expensive than the “Rattigan Roadwali baraf”. During the several cholera epidemics that hit Lahore in those days, the European population used only “jailwali baraf”. At the height of the epidemics special permits were issued to Europeans for this ice.

These virtually pre-historic technology ice pits died after the fist electricity powered ice manufacturing unit sprung up in 1879 on Rattigan Road. For the first time ice was available all the year round in large quantities. This led to the common people also enjoying kulfis in summer, a delicacy that formerly only the rich enjoyed. But though the ice pits of Lahore died away in the late 1800s, a few old-timers even now call the grounds where they existed, as the ‘baraf maidan’. One assumes that in a few years even this name will die. Today there exists a swimming pool and some very old banyan trees. In our youth we spent many an evening discussing poetry there, not to speak of several unmentionable pastimes.

Workshop on calligraphy organized

PURSUING a consistent interest in promoting one of the oldest forms of art in the world, the National college of Arts has organized a 22-day workshop on calligraphy.

This resuscitation given to calligraphy at the NCA comes through the dual effort of Bashir Ahmed, head of the miniature department — which has incorporated calligraphy into its curriculum as a separate subject, and Gauhar Qalam, the inimitable calligrapher recognized for his excellence with quills.

The workshop is giving the students an insight into the technicalities of calligraphy. During the course of 22 days, students will not come out experts on calligraphy, but they will definitely be able to differentiate between calligraphy, and taking a phrase used by British Museum curator Venetia Porter, ‘calli-graffiti’.

At the workshop, Gauhar Qalam can be seen explaining to the students how calligraphy is closely related to geometry, as far as the accuracy of angles and techniques is concerned. “These geometric angles have become part of calligraphy after years of research by experts from Iraq to Iran, Turkey to North Africa. “It is not possible to learn calligraphy without some knowledge of geometry,” explains Gauhar Qalam to students sitting in rapt attention.

The workshop is aimed at highlighting the classical features of calligraphy, believed to be severely mutilated by the brush of modern trendsetters. Students are being taught Tuluth, Nastaleeq, quill-crafting and the 12 rules of calligraphy set by Ibne Muqaala, a prime minister of the Abbasid era and a great calligrapher. The workshop has a nominal fee of Rs2,000 and is open to all. — Shehar Bano Khan