It was a new city and a new newspaper I had joined in the May of 1979. I was living with friends and a cousin for a few weeks each in order not to be a burden on any of them. I even lived in a motel for a night or two. It was all very exciting.
I was living from day to day and from night to night. I did not know where my next meal was coming from. Nor did I bother. I used to get my grub anyhow. People were very generous to me in those hectic days.
I remember with gratitude Saleem Asmi and his wife and their hospitality. I also remember Syed Arif Ali Shah, his father and his wife. With an equal measure of gratitude.
And I have yet to forget Ayaz Amir, his high music and his yoga in the room I shared with him for some time in the CDA hostel. It was altogether too romantic for me to remember my penury or my family back in Lahore.
It was during these days that I received a visit from my very great friend Mohammad Idrees of The Pakistan Times. He drove up to my office in Aabpara and invited me to spend the weekend with him in Murree.
I was more than glad to accept the offer and off we drove to the hill station. I knew that we could spend the night at the house of another dear friend, Shahid Ikram Malik, of the Orient Hotel in Lahore.
Idrees had stopped his car near the Murree GPO and we were deciding which way to turn to find Shahid's house. It was during these moments of indecision that I asked Idrees whether he had brought any thing with him which could ensure a pleasant evening for us when I drew a blank, I used all the four-letter words that I could remember and threatened to go back to Islamabad by bus that very minute. Idrees tried as best as he could to prevent me from putting my plan into action.
While we were arguing back and forth, I saw a car driving up our way. I told Idrees that happiness was at hand and come what may, I was not going to allow it to go by. So I stood in the middle of the road, obliging the driver of the oncoming car to screech to a halt. The driver looked out of his window to find what was what. I never knew the man but Idrees did. It was Naeem Bukhari, young and handsome and debonair.
On recognizing Idrees, he got out and embraced him but looked blankly at me. I was blunt. "Have you any happiness on board?" Naeem was amazed but he was always quick on the uptake.
He said that there was enough happiness for me and for Idrees and to spare. "But for that, the two of you will have to stay here for five minutes to allow me to go to the sub-martial law administrator's place for a khajoor or two for Iftari and I will be right back."
Naeem Bokhari was indeed back before I and Idrees had smoked our second cigarettes. Bokhari, then took over and led us to Mr. S.M.Zafar's beautiful house. Happiness was provided to us by the jugful and while we were at it, a certain lady walked into the living room and was right glad to see what we were doing.
At dinner time, the lady in question gave us Sarson Ka Saag and Makkai Ki Roti cooked in pure ghee. Although Sarson and Makkai ki Roti don't go well with my kind of happiness, I swear to you it was the most magnificent post-happiness meal I have ever had. I and Idrees and Bokhari had more than our fill. The more we ate, the happier the lady became.
And you know the lady? It was Malika Pukhraj. It was the very first time I had met her and in what glorious circumstances! It was, my first meeting, too, with Naeem Bokhari.
The memory of that wonderful evening will live with me for as long as I live. Idrees was too impatient to live beyond fifty and a bit. Soon after he had completed his half century, he mistimed a hook and was caught in the deep off the devil.
Malika Pukhraj was a tougher customer and nearly completed her hundred before running herself out. Only self and Bokhari are left of the 1979 quartet. Since I write these lines on Basant Day, I invite Naeem Bokhari to sing with me: Lo Phir Basant Aaee.
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I return now to my favourite chronology, The Statesman (1875-1975). February 20, 1931, the paper compared 1921 with that year as under:
So far there has been a close parallel between 1921 and 1931 in regard to the conversations between the Viceroys and Mr Gandhi. In 1921 Mr Gandhi with the prospect before him of launching his civil disobedience movement made what was then called "a desperate effort to save the situation".
As an outcome of negotiations by Pandit Malaviya a series of interviews was arranged between Lord Reading the then Viceroy and Mr Gandhi. In describing those talks a few days later the Viceroy said: "I informed Mr Malaviya that if Mr Gandhi applied to me for an interview, I would readily grant it and that I should be glad to hear his views.
In due course Mr Gandhi did apply, and we had a series of interviews. There was no finesse or manoeuvre about it. The result of these interviews produced at least this satisfactory result, that I got to know Mr Gandhi and he got to know me."
A main difference between the situation then and now was that Mr Gandhi in 1921 had drawn his ultimatum to the Government about 'repression', although what was then called 'repression' had been of much more drastic character than anything recently witnessed.
In 1921 military forces had been used on 47 occasions to break the movement he had initiated. Yet Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru, a stout defender of the Government policy of crushing the civil disobedience movement, had said, "if Government, to combat the outlaws who were at war with it, had adopted certain measures, those measures could not be pilloried as repressive".
In 1921, Mr Gandhi found that he had miscalculated. The Viceroy told him that "nothing could be done until the non-cooperation party discontinued open breaches of the law and the practice of intimidation", and insisted as a condition "precedent even to the discussion of any project of a conference on the imperative necessity of the discontinuance of the unlawful activities of Mr Gandhi's movement".
This might be almost a paraphrase of the recent language of the Government in Delhi. The warnings of the Viceroy in 1921 had small effect. Mr Gandhi went forward with his campaign which was allowed a certain length of rope because, as the Indian Government phrased it, "they believed it necessary to prove to the hilt in India and to the world by the real danger and the results of Mr Gandhi's movement".
By 1922 in March of which year Mr Gandhi was arrested, he was admitting his mistakes, shouldering the blame, and rebuking his followers for the mob violence that reached its culmination in Chauri Chaura, for which he did penance. Yet within a short time of his release Mr Gandhi was expressing in a letter his adherence to his original plan.
Of non-cooperation, civil disobedience and boycott. The difference on this occasion is that Mr Gandhi has expressed no regret for the violent incidents.
The parallel we have drawn is not encouraging. Is it to be written of Mr Gandhi as of the Bourbons that he learns nothing and forgets nothing? His tactics in 1931 have followed closely on lines of those of 1921.
On April 11, 1931, the paper wrote: Mr Subhas Chandra Bose is reported in his own organ, Liberty, as having used these words in addressing Sikhs at Amritsar: "India was required to produce thousands of Bhagat Singhs before she could attains 'Purna Swaraj".
We assume the correctness of the report and ask how long the Government of India is to tolerate these verbal incitements to cold and callous murder. Thousands of Bhagat Singhs can mean no more and no less than thousands of men who will shoot down officials in circumstances in which they have no chance of defending themselves.
At the doors of world-be Bhagat Singhs lie the cowardly murder of Mr Peddie, the shooting of Colonel Simpson, Mr Lowman and half a score other men whose one crime was that they were doing their duty. Mr Bose's speech only differs by a shade more outspokenness from a score of speeches that were delivered at Congress.
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Can you fly a kite without any strings attached? Why, then, any assistance to you from the United States must be without strings? No string, no kite. See?
Is Shining India batting on a shaky wicket?
Jawed Naqvi
When the cricket World Cup was on last year, the casinos in Nepal wore a deserted look. It may be reasonable to construe from this that even the most hardened gamblers are distracted by the cricket mania. You cannot keep your mind on the roulette table if Shoaib Akhtar is bowling to Sachin Tendulkar.
That's a far bigger game; fortunes are made and lost on this game. But there's an equally big draw in India's democracy. Heavy bets will be placed on the outcome of the elections, and come March when the election campaign would be nicely under way, bookies would be preparing to up the ante or reduce the odds on individual candidates and on the party that will be in power.
Throwing in a lucrative cricket tournament with archrival Pakistan at this juncture could result in earth-shaking turbulence. Although it may not be beyond their abilities to handle both mega events, they would quite clearly like to have the nail-biting uncertainty of an Indian election behind them before turning their attention to the fire and brimstone of an India-Pakistan cricket contest. They would rather have it piecemeal, one tournament at a time, beginning with the political one.
But this is the petty perspective of a bookie. What about the lofty vision of an emerging superpower and the statesmen who would lead it to a peaceful, secure and prosperous future? What is the perspective of "India Shining" on an issue that should really only concern the bookies and other lesser mortals.
Imagine a great nation on the move, promising highways to link all the corners of this great country, electricity to the poorest, remotest village, a surfeit of water, food and a grand temple in Ayodhya in the not too distant future, breaking into a cold sweat over a cricket match or two? After considerable prevarication Prime Minister Vajpayee signalled on Saturday that this tournament should go ahead. But his government was still hedging its bets.
What is the unease about? Actually, it is Mr Vajpayee's allies who are not keen to go ahead with the Pakistan matches at this juncture, we are told. One such ally is Chandrababu Naidu, the chief minister of the southern state of Andhra Pradesh.
He is worried about the security of the players. Perhaps it is understandable. Mr Naidu survived a fairly close call when Maoist guerillas blew up his armoured car last year, and believes the worst could well happen to the touring Indian cricketers. But is he also worried that such a happening would affect his election prospects?
Mr Naidu is supposedly sitting pretty for having transformed his state into a hub of information technology and has even got the World Bank to give him one huge loan after another.
But is there a niggling concern that all is not really well for his Telugu Desam Party? However, the crux of this uncertainty over the cricket tour is the stand of Mr Vajpayee's own Bharatiya Janata Party.
Why did it choose to hide behind the skirt of its allies and not come clean on the issue? After all, the BJP has already declared Mr Vajpayee the winner in a race that has not even begun.
The party has given a whole range of good reasons why it believes the electoral iron is hot and thus the right time to strike it. It has deleted more than six months from Mr Vajpayee's full tenure to go to the hustings because it is brimming with unprecedented confidence.
It says for example that the economy is in good shape. It says it has connected the country with its huge highways programme, that it is bringing more electricity into the grid.
It also says with much chest-thumping that Pakistan "is on the brink of making peace with India". It also believes, and not without reason, that the Congress, the only major opposition party, is in poor shape as the results in Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh assembly elections have shown.
While the Congress is riven by dissension, the BJP with its highly trained cadres stands united. It has even brought back its prodigals, like Uttar Pradesh heavyweight Kalyan Singh.
The BJP is certainly cocky about its prospects after its unexpected victories in the state polls. The voting pattern, especially in Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh, came as a revelation. But can one expect it to be replicated nationwide in the elections to the Lok Sabha? The answer to that one is that the BJP would not have hastened its elections without doing some homework.
So why is the BJP worried about the consequence of a possible defeat in cricket matches against Pakistan? And what if the matches do go ahead and Sachin Tendulkar does produce some sensational stuff? Would it translate into extra votes for Mr Vajpayee? In that case, shouldn't the opposition parties be not only praying for the matches to be played but also for their team to lose so that they can steal those potentially crucial extra votes from the BJP?
If there is any valid reason to believe that Mr Vajpayee is winning the next elections and that the only possible obstacle is a bad tour by the Indian cricket team, then clearly the sheen on its rule is more illusory than one thought.
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Two emails, one each from Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh, where two women chief ministers of Prime Minister Vajpayee's party have taken power. So what are they busy with? First take the message from Bhopal, which encloses a clipping from the Kolkata-based Telegraph newspaper of February 6.
A nephew of Mr Vajpayee, minister for culture in Madhya Pradesh Anup Mishra, has all of a sudden discovered that the founder of the renowned Maihar Gharana of classical music, the late Ustad Allaudin Khan, guru of sitar maestro Pandit Ravi Shankar and father of the sarod wizard Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, is a Bangladeshi, a BJP euphemism for an illegal immigrant. Bangladesh did not exist when Ustad Allaudin Khan died. But the school of music named after him in Bhopal would now be renamed.
And what is the lady in Rajasthan busy with? A message from Kavita Srivastava, a well known and respected human rights activist there, alerts us with this warning: Is Rajasthan going Gujarat's way? Her fears stem from the case registered against a locally popular artist, for reasons which often invite right-wing attacks on the better-known M.F. Hussain exhibitions.
Reports Kavita: These posters were created for use in a campaign on child and maternal health and prevention of HIV/ AIDS by the Lok Kala Mandal (local artists forum) at the behest of two (human rights) organizations. They were developed from paintings made by well-known painter Shail Choyal. The artist had used the symbols of (Hindu deities) Sita, Ganesh, Krishna and Ravana to communicate the importance of breast-feeding and safe motherhood. Familiar signs of possible trouble ahead?
Cupid's day out
By Karachian
Young Karachians need an excuse to celebrate - and did so on Valentine's Day. The air was filled with laughter, romance and the sweet fragrance of thousands of flowers in breathtaking colours.
Not everyone had a sweetheart, but then, the general mood of merrymaking was catching, and all had a good time. Park Towers, the uptown shopping mall in Clifton, witnessed the most excitement.
A screen had been put up displaying Valentine's Day greetings and gift shops displayed red hearts and soft toys. The flower vendors in the building had a tough time keeping up with the numerous orders for bouquets.
It did not matter that the price had quadrupled on the day. Other equally better-off areas like Defence witnessed massive traffic jams as customers inundated wayside flower shops.
Even the telecommunications sector felt the Valentine effect as the network slowed down, thanks to the sheer numbers of SMS messages that crossed lines and the pictures that young people sent to one another via a new technology.
In other areas of the city heart-shaped balloons bobbed past the windscreen of many a car waiting for the signal to turn green. FM radio stations also aired special numbers.
Investment options
Most people have little business acumen. They let their surplus income rest in banks and national savings schemes, and contentedly make do with whatever return they receive on their investments.
But an enterprising friend recently declared that he would put his capital to better use. Unhappy with the frequent slashing in the rate of returns offered on national savings schemes, which were previously regarded as one of the safest and most profitable investment options, he decided that he would invest his hard-earned money in the stock market.
So off went the friend to the Karachi Stock Exchange. A stockbroker told him that there were at least 699 listed companies. As the friend scratched his bald pate, wondering in which company to invest, the stockbroker gave him a long list of going concerns which were sure to pay huge sums in profit.
But the friend was not satisfied. He had a sneaking suspicion that the broker was not telling him the whole truth and was more interested in his commission than the security of his investment.
The friend then turned to a professional who knew the trade inside out and also had a good reputation. He bought shares in a sugar mill. Shortly afterwards the friend received a notice from the company announcing the date of the annual general body meeting.
Dressed like a hard-headed businessman, the friend reached the venue of the general body meeting well in time. He was not a little surprised to find a crowd of women and children trying to gatecrash the meeting. The friend managed to elbow his way through the crowd into the hall where the shareholders had gathered.
As the meeting got under way, the friend noticed that while a few shareholders where quizzing the directors about the company's investment plans, others were noisily asking for "gifts".
He asked the person sitting next to him what the "gifts" were. The man explained that the company offered new calendars, diaries and a lunch box or five kilograms of sugar to shareholders on the day of the annual general meeting.
He added that most shareholders were more interested in the "gifts" than soul-destroying speeches.
As soon as the meeting concluded the shareholders made a beeline for the tea tables where their wives and children had already been helping themselves to snacks and drinks.
The friend was dumb struck when he noticed that quite a few shareholders were stuffing their bags with the pastries and chicken patties offered by the company.
On his way home, he wondered whether he should keep his money in his back account or continue to invest in the sugar mill which operated at a profit but whose shareholders appeared little concerned about its financial health.
Following the signs
A few things still work. Take, for instance, the city's road signs. Some time back, the city government and the cantonment boards got together with a public-sector petrol company and put up sign boards along major roads. While the difference was noticeable, we just took these in our stride without as much as reading them carefully.
The pleasant surprise came over the Eid holidays when a colleague narrated this episode. His friend had come from Islamabad and wanted to join other friends for a chat.
The group had gathered in North Nazimabad and the friend in question called from Clifton, saying he had a car and needed directions to get to the house in North Nazimabad. Phhew... said the colleague and his friends, wondering how to tell someone who is a stranger in the city how to get to North Nazimabad from Clifton, a good 20 kilometres away.
"No problem", answered the friend on the phone. "I'll follow the signs. I've seen directions to North Nazimabad on Sharae Faisal." The cynical colleague's response was, "Yeah, right! This is not America or Islamabad where you can simply follow the signs and get from one place to another."
But the friend from Islamabad said he had a bit of an idea and knew that somehow the Quaid's Mazar was on the way and that he had seen signs leading to the Mazar and on to North Nazimabad, so he'd like to give it a shot anyway.
Here is what he had to say half an hour later when he did get to North Nazimabad from Clifton, following the road signs: That was really no problem. I just got on to Sharae Faisal at Metropole and followed the road until I saw the arrow pointing to the Quaid's Mazar.
I took a left there which, after a while, brought me on to another thoroughfare. I followed the signs and got to the Mazar and sort of went round it when I saw another sign pointing to Nazimabad.
I followed that sign and then after a while saw the sign for North Nazimabad. The roads here were well marked so I began to read the names until I found the road and made a turn.
The friend got the exact location of the house by using his mobile phone and reached there within a few minutes. So here's perhaps one blessing we Karachians should count.
Warnings not heeded
Television advertisements advising people to keep an eye open for unattended vehicles and bags appear too often to be ignored. These warnings stress that suspicious-looking, unattended objects at a public place could contain an explosive device planted by one of the many terrorist organizations that are on the prowl these days.
Standing in a queue at the immigration counter of Karachi airport, a passenger recently noticed that an unclaimed bag was lying nearby. A good Samaritan, he at once drew the attention of the officer on duty who had been throwing his weight about. But the officer was not interested and took no notice of the bag.
After 15 minutes or so, a young woman came rushing back and sheepishly collected the bag, much to the relief of everyone standing there. Obviously she had dropped it while waiting for her turn near the immigration counter and forgotten about it afterwards.
But how was the public to know? How should one act in such a situation? Are the precautions broadcast on TV to be taken seriously?