| July 13, 2003 | Sunday | Jumadi-ul-Awwal 12, 1424 |
Why don’t we enjoy the rain?
A self-made
WHEN President Hamid Karzai visited Islamabad in April, among other things that his hosts in Islamabad complained about was how officials of the Afghan intelligence agency, Riyast-i-Amniyat-i-Milli (RAM), were plotting to carry out high-profile assassinations in Pakistan. The evidence was said to have been compelling. A shocked Karzai promised to take action.
On his part, the Afghan president (accompanied by an American official) had requested Islamabad to plug the largely unmarked border between Pakistan’s Mohmand tribal region and Afghanistan’s eastern Nangrahar and Kunar provinces to check alleged incursions by the Taliban and Gulbadin Hikmatyar supporters.
In July, Pakistan and US-led coalition forces launched simultaneous operations on both sides of the border. Initially, Islamabad denied troop movements in the Mohmand tribal region and said that it was part of a joint military operation, but now it admits having sent its forces to the border in support of the government in Kabul.
So what are these skirmishes about? Did Pakistani forces really intrude 40kms into the Afghan territory? What was there in President Musharraf’s statement that irked his Afghan counterpart so much? And what do the nationwide protest demonstrations in Afghanistan mean for Pakistan?
Despite the pictures of President Musharraf and President Karzai shaking hands, there is deep suspicion between Pakistan and Afghanistan of each other’s intentions dating back decades and it is this that is now threatening existing cordial relations between the two countries.
Ever since President Musharraf withdrew Pakistan’s backing for the Taliban, Islamabad has been on the look out for a new role for itself amidst the changed realities in Afghanistan.
When Islamabad decided to follow Washington in its campaign in Afghanistan, the decision was based on the premise that the US would protect Pakistan’s legitimate interests in Afghanistan. But as recent events have shown, Pakistan is finding it difficult to safeguard its interests in the face of growing Indian influence in Afghanistan. Not only are things heating up on its western borders with Afghanistan, Pakistan is also worried about a menacing threat to its internal security due to the presence of Indian consulates in Jalalabad and Kandahar.
As against this, Pakistan’s diplomatic mission in Kabul faces the same level of restrictions on its operations as its missions face in New Delhi and Tehran. Pakistan ambassador Rustam Shah Mohmand is confronted with the daunting task of mending relations with a Punjsheri-dominated Afghan government and furthering Pakistan’s interests in Afghanistan.
There was a time when Gulbadin Hikmatyar was Pakistan’s favourite amongst various groups of Afghan mujahideen who got the lion’s share of CIA-supplied arms, much to the anger of his arch rival Ahmad Shah Masood. But when the communist regime fell, its policy makers in Afghanistan caught cold feet.
This arrangement didn’t last long. With Rabbani at the helm of affairs and Masood as defence minister, there was no love lost for Pakistan. Then came the Taliban who took care of the sensitive issue of the Durand Line and security along Pakistan’s western border. Masood never forgave Pakistan for that. He might have been justified in suspecting Pakistan’s intentions in Afghanistan and more specifically towards him. But it appears that those who succeeded him in the Northern Alliance have also not forgotten the steps that Pakistan took in the past.
They have forgiven Russia for invading Afghanistan, killing millions of their people, destroying its infrastructure and ruining the country. They have excused India whose mines have maimed and wounded hundreds of thousands of Afghans, but they refuse to set aside what Pakistan did in the past.
Pakistan shared its bread and butter with millions of Afghan refugees for three decades. A whole generation of Afghans has grown up here. The parents and family members of the governor of Afghanistan’s central bank, Anwarul Haq Ahadi, who led the protest march in Kabul, still live in Peshawar and enjoy Pakistan’s hospitality.
Granted that President Musharraf should not have said what he said about Mr Karzai’s influence not going beyond Kabul. But one may ask: What was so new in Gen Musharraf’s statement? Was it not something President Karzai himself has been demanding all this time? The western media and think-tanks in the US have been making the same assessments and drawing the same conclusions.
Clearly, there are elements at work in Afghanistan who would want to drive a wedge between Kabul and Islamabad. Islamabad has so far shown restraint. But it is time for Islamabad to rethink its Afghan policy on a sounder and long-term basis. It is evident that Washington has finally decided to honour its commitment in helping Pakistan safeguard its legitimate interests in Afghanistan. The setting up of a Pakistan-Afghanistan-US commission to sort out differences cropping up from border disputes is a step in the right direction. But given the mutual distrust and suspicion between Islamabad and Kabul, Washington needs to do more as a facilitator than be a mere law enforcement agency chasing Al Qaeda and Taliban remnants.
ARE there no kind words for the fact that it has already rained in Karachi and that the Sindh capital, barring the initial setbacks has got over (almost) what newspaper reporters love to describe as the “dislocation of life”? Is there no one who is pleased at the light rains that have come and given to the environment a welcome, refreshing and buoyant feeling? Why can’t we see that the glass is half full? Always moaning and groaning that the glass is half empty? Strange people, we are. Aren’t we? Why?
Rain or no rain in Karachi? Given that choice what would be most of the critical, cynical amongst us citizens choose, prefer, vote for? Think. Contemplate.
Suppose and even if we accept the fact that Karachi cannot cope with the challenge of rains in the annual monsoon season, would we still argue that we are better off with any rain? Are there no plus points, when it pours here? Does it not make at least the children of the city happy? Admittedly, they play in the rain water and often it is dirty muddy water, and admittedly there are traffic jams on the city’s roads caused by poor drainage and sewerage facilities. But that is a context that Karachiites are familiar with, argues one vocal citizen who says that it is a must that Karachi be blessed with monsoon rains — regardless of whether the critics like it or not.
But let us forget the critics and their familiar bitterness, which is such a constant in our lives. Look at the lovely change that has come about in the weather, and subsequently in the mood of the citizens, who have braved through the heat and humidity and the oppressive weather of May and June. Now the grey cloudy weather of July has unfolded, and even though there is much to complain, or protest about. There is a wonderful relief that has come with the rains that began on Sunday last.
Admittedly there was that terrible scary traffic jam in the city — in many of the commercial and residential areas. But one citizen who got caught in the traffic mess explained that the jam was caused as the most people wanted to rush home before sunset and spend time with their families in that weather. The sudden collective turnout on the roads, and everybody wanting to be off work, and at places like Clifton with their friends and families was a major reason for abnormal rush on the roads.
I have spoken to several people at random on whether, after all is said and done, did the recent rain or monsoon rains in the past had done the city good. Or was Karachi a loser as a city?
The general response was cautious, but eventually there was a consensus that it did lasting good to Karachi, whenever it rained. So what if some roads have water standing on them for a few days, or if there are more power failures. These are problems that come anyway. What these people stressed was that it was the change in weather that was so welcoming.
In fact some of these people wondered why at all did the print media, and in its footsteps the television news, become so obsessed with the grim and negative side of rains. Why wasn’t there the cheerful side presented? Why wasn’t it explained that the rains did good to the environment? asked one young woman, who referred to the media focussing snowfall in Murree and other places. Everybody is shown having fun, even though there is the fact that the poor suffer when it snows.
However, having said this, one must take note of the short news report that an Urdu daily from Karachi has published on Friday. It headlined that Karachi was shining after the rains, and the environment had become clear and clean. There was particular emphasis on the city’s parks and the gardens, which appeared clean and green. As the city was short of water and these parks and gardens did not get the water that they did need. Which makes it relevant to mention that the water level in the Hub Dam has also risen and the more it rains the higher that level will go. This definitely means some sort of relief for the city.
But, forget these aspects. Just think of the mere sight of rain falling. Isn’t it is lovely and inspiring sight to see rain drops falling? Look at the pleasant mood that is evoked by this kind of change in weather. Some may remember the poetry they have read in the past, some become talkative, others nostalgic, others contemplative, and so on. All positive!
The rains have just started this season, and it is hard to predict what kind of monsoon we are in for. So it is impossible to say how the city will fare in the days ahead, but one thing is very clear that despite the dissent about Karachi’s arrangements, in terms of infrastructure, it has withstood the rain so far. It is perhaps very unfair to contend that the city government has failed to deliver in the wake of the rain on Monday afternoon and evening. It has to be kept in mind that for a city that has undergone long spells of neglect and nonchalance over five decades of dictatorship and democracy, there is woefully lacking the infrastructure that is needed for a city as vast and populated as this provincial capital. Surely, neither this city government nor any other government of this kind can deliver in the time scale that it has.
We must try and be fair, objective and dispassionate in our evaluation, argued one citizen, who has been following the argument-counter argument going on between the provincial government and the city government. In fact, he counselled the leaders of both sides to display a dignified and balanced approach to the affairs of Karachi so that there could be some time and energy to tackle the problems that are defying solutions. The citizen interest is supreme.
Returning to the point about Monday’s rain, which one citizen enjoyed thoroughly from his balcony in his apartment on main Clifton Road, he said that it seemed that people were losing their ability to enjoy nature; so hardened all citizens have become in their urban attitudes. He said that he stood out in the falling rain, and let the raindrops fall on his tired face! He did not bother about the power failures and the fact that his phone had gone dead. “Who cared that evening?” he remarked.
It is truly a good time, in a sense for Karachi, despite the streams of depressing, confusing, agonising stories that continue to upset our daily lives. And this good time has nothing to do with mangoes or weddings. It is the rain that delights and makes one dream.
JAVED Iqbal Khan is a self-made man. Belonging to Dera Ismail Khan, he started life as a telephone operator. Simultaneously pursuing his studies, he obtained a master’s degree in biochemistry which got him a job as a lecturer in the Multan University. However, he did not stay there long and somehow managed to sneak into the United States. To make ends meet, he started working in a slaughter house in Los Angeles. But it did not take long for him to secure a while collar job. He has now been working there as a forensic scientist for the last 13 years.
With leanings towards literature as well, Khan adopted the name Tabish Khanzada and started contributing to newspapers. He also wrote poetry and came to Pakistan recently with his maiden collection, Woh Eik Aurat. The management of the quarterly Ma’asir grabbed the opportunity and arranged a function in a local restaurant to launch the book. Presiding over it was the popular poet, Shahzad Ahmed, while another poet, Aslam Kaulsari, conducted the proceedings.
Introducing the poet, Ataul Haq Qasmi said that apart from appreciating Tabish as a columnist and as a poet, he was worth appreciating as a human being who had served the cause of education in the country. About seven years ago, he established a Help Foundation and started providing stipends to deserving students pursuing scientific and technical education in Pakistan. Ata, however, added that there were many more Pakistani nationals in the United States who were espousing the same cause.
Speaking on the occasion, Dr Salim Akhtar and Khalid Iqbal Yasser while appreciating the poetic proficiency of Tabish Khanzada, lauded the purity of his thoughts which was so evident in his verses.
Some of the speakers made a reference to the verses Tabish had written in a humorous vein but these are rarely to be found in the book. A young lady, Aini Akhtar said that she always found Tabish with a smile on his face and his poem, Woh Eik Aurat, made her proud of her sex.
Shahzad Ahmad spoke briefly. He said one could sum up Tabish by saying that his verses had all that was to the liking to Dagh and also that which was not to his liking. However, this is what Tabish has to say about himself with all humility:
Jaisey halaat mein raho Tabish
Jin khayalaat mein raho Tabish
Tum ko itna dhiyan rakhna heh
Apni auqaat mein raho Tabish
The book has opinions included in it about Tabish and his poetry by many people. Going through these one finds that even the late Zamir Jafri had word of praise both for his columns and his poetry.
AND now about a magazine.
I have known the government publication, Mah-i-Nau, ever since the days it was edited by my senior friend, Rafiq Khawar. He was the scion of a brilliant family. His eldest brother was Dr Tassaduq Hussain Khalid, the pioneer of free verse, whose son Aslam Riaz, was a judge of the Supreme Court and also remained governor of the Punjab for some time. Another of his brothers was Arshad Mahmood, of the railways and a friend of the legendary Rafique Ghaznavi to end up himself as an authority on Indian classical music. The youngest of the family is Saeed Akhtar who was one of the first in the country to qualify for the Pakistan Foreign Service.
Anyway, all this has come in by the way. I have been receiving the monthly Mah-i-Nau as a complimentary copy for ages. Unfortunately, I cannot speak too highly about the present standard of the magazine as some articles in it seen to be the result of uncalled for labour and appear sketchy. For example, the one on Khwaja Farid in the latest (May issue) does not do anything to enlighten the reader. Even the article on Khwaja Aatish by Dr Akhtar Shumar is the result of copying from various sources and nothing more. I cannot say if it is true, but it is generally said that you get a master’s degree by copying from ten books and a doctorate by copying from forty.
The Inshaia in this issue by Shafi Hamdam has been given the heading, Condactor, and not of Condactor which is ridiculous. The only redeeming features in this issue are the short stories by Shama Khalid, Yunas Javed and Khalid Fateh Muhammad. They are of an acceptable standard.
In the end, I must condemn a book review appearing on page 95 of the issue. I have yet to see something more poorly written. The book reviewed is a collection of poetry by an ordinary poet of Gujranwala who is extremely fond of self-projection. He manages to sneak into every picture taken at any literary function anywhere and has the knack of getting it published in newspapers and magazines. A review of his collection of poetry does not deserve a place in a magazine of the standard of Mah-i-Nau. — ASHFAQUE NAQVI