| 06 June 2004 | Sunday | 17 Rabi-us-Saani 1425 |
The magazines at my desk
The relentless matriarch of art
With the terrifying way in which last Sunday went with the shocking killing of the scholar Mufti Nizamuddin Shamzai, Karachiites spent that day in anger and suspense. My friend Azhar phoned to say that he wasn't willing to take the risk of stepping out of the house that evening. And a colleague who resides in Azizabad wasn't able to reach my place because of the overflow of anger on the streets of Karachi. One is saying this to reflect in small measure the enormity of the dislocation, the suffocation, and the commotion that takes place in our lives when Karachi is in pain, and when it bleeds.
What the week before last Sunday (30th May) was like one need not recall. But with Mufti Shamzai's killing one spent the day watching TV news channels to find out what was happening in the city. Restless, disturbed, pregnant with rumours. It was like that cliche - wars and rumours of wars - from the book "A dictionary of cliches" by Eric Partridge. In fact with the way stories are appearing in the media coming from Islamabad, and with the way in which Friday's strike has gone (until the writing of this column) speculation and rumours flow on.
When an enigmatically amused colleague Saleem quizzed me about the depressing mood in the city, I cautiously answered that we should wait for the week to unfold and things will improve. The question now is this: Was any day in this week an improvement on the previous one? Has this Friday taken us away from the sorrow, the gloom, the despair, the fear, and the economic uncertainty that in fact the entire month of May has been characterized by?
One does concede that life did not totally stop despite the wounds and the fractures. That people like Tariq Zuberi who reside there in Gulistan-i-Jauhar were able to dare, and make it to office despite the bloody disorder, offer small consolation. For there are those who are seized by fears, real and perceived and don't show up for work and render futile (in a symbolic way) society's attempts to remain productive. Indeed, the economic loss has been colossal and the way the stock exchange went down on Thursday is disturbing.
There is so much disturbing in the way it is all heading, it seems. Now places of worship are being targeted and innocent people present there for prayers are being killed. Bomb blasts inside places of worship: The result is now a huge fear of being inside a mosque or Imambargah? Some people prefer to worship at home. While at places of worship the managements have opted to install detectors and scanners to try and ensure that there is the safety that citizens seek.
Society is becoming desperate. Of course, this is sad and the fearful mourning is understandable. But those who are plotting this and hitting us hard need to be condemned, in the strongest manner possible. Is there an insanity in this? A method in the madness? Why have we become so vulnerable as a city, as a people? I know we will keep asking questions until the answers come.
What answers do we have for the fact that in the street violence and the attacking of banks, petrol pumps and other private and public property (a repeated occurrence it seems), militant enraged crowd also attacked the Quaid-i-Azam Academy. Pause here and contemplate!
The Quaid-i-Azam Academy was the spontaneous target of angry mob. It set on fire a vehicle, furnitures, and records of the Academy. One wonders about the whole scenario like: the Quaid's mausoleum is located opposite the academy and it is at the mausoleum where our leaders and people go for Fateha and to pay homage to the Father of the Nation. But, when citizens are angry and furious they destroy the academy? Where goes that love and respect for the Quaid, and a belief in his principles? Contradictions of a kind.
It does make one worried about the academy and the loss that it suffered. Perhaps some of that loss is irreparable like its records and books. Varying figures have been mentioned for the financial loss i.e. from Rs2.5 million to Rs5 million. Now take the appearance of the academy. It never, was much to talk about. It has been there ever since it was located to its present place some 24 years ago, and I doubt very much whether it has expanded enough to keep pace with the challenge that it has.
There is truly so much that needs to be done for the Quaid's teachings, his vision, his principles, in the reality of our lives. It is definitely not enough to hang his portraits in government and other offices, while in effect we are unable to protect even the Quaid's Academy. And that brings in another question: should the academy be located there? Should it not have a befitting building to honour the memory and the stature of the Father of the Nation?
One learns that the academy doesn't have a financial constraint. Surely a city like Karachi, which has fund raisers of all sort and for varied causes, can have a Friends of the Academy formed, which would seek to have premises away from its present location. Just some thought for the academy as one looks into the future.
One looks into the future of the city, too, at troubled times like these. In particular, there is need to mention the fact that angry mobs alongwith setting fire to public and private vehicles, are now setting petrol pumps on fire. What the Pakistan Petroleum Dealers Association has said on this point needs to be taken seriously and perhaps some kind of special protection has to be given to them.
The futility of saying this also stares at me in the face. Does this society have the resources to pay for the policing that it keeps implying for safety? Do we have enough police for the mosques and imambargahs where thousands and thousands go for prayers five times a day. Who will pay that cost?
But let us return to the danger that the petroleum dealers have referred to when these petrol pumps are set on fire. The association said that "... the pumps having CNG stations were just like huge storage of explosives, which could easily engulf a vast adjoining area in its folds within seconds, endangering thousands of lives in the vicinity." There is nothing unreal or melodramatic about this fear.
The very thought brings to mind dreadful bleeding images. And one does not need to detail the inadequacies of the city's fire fighting machinery. Saying this only reminds me of the poor, sorry state of the emergency wards of the local hospitals where the injured were taken after the bomb blasts and other tragedies.
As one looks into the future of the city - torn apart(?) by conflicts whether sectarian or ethnic - thoughts go out to the unfolding political scenario, and the statements coming out of Islamabad and elsewhere in the country. Once again, this city of ours being discussed not just in the country, but the world over.
Of course there is the Wana-like situation here, which is yet another source of many question marks of a dangerous kind. Has the Wana situation overflowed on to Karachi? And why does everything have to find its way to Karachi - everything negative, and bloody? Why is Karachi a battle ground for all causes and groups?
Coming back to the recent tragedies, one learns that even the president said that this recent terrorism had spread "despondency and consternation" and that some action would be taken. Now much is being imagined and said about Karachi, Sindh and Islamabad.
Finally as Friday's strike comes to a somewhat peaceful end (mercifully), it is imperative to mention what the All Pakistan Organization of Small Traders and Cottage Industry said as they announced their decision to participate in the strike. It stated: "If the government failed to provide security to the people of Karachi, we would launch a civil disobedience movement, and would not pay (taxes)." That is one of the many threats that we live with. A civil disobedience movement?
There is another threat which says that "mourners give 72 hours to government for the arrest of culprits" in Imambargah blast case. And that ultimatum ends today (Sunday).
The magazines at my desk
Let me get over with some magazines this time. These are continuing to pile on my writing desk. I know that all those who send me their productions expect me to write something about them.
The government publication, the monthly Mah-i-Nau, is right here before me. Now when its issue for the month of March comes to me at the end of May, what compliment can I pay it? Further, when going through its contents, one has to bear the childish write-ups about Ibne Insha, and Istanbul and an equally puerile attempt at an inshaiya under the heading, Blackboard.
Sadaf Altaf, a contributor to this magazine deserves a special word of praise. She has very cleverly managed to cull all that has been written by others about Dr Moeenur Rahman and managed to produce something which the editor of Mah-i-Nau has found it worthy of inclusion in a magazine which was once considered a highbrow publication. It is too painful seeing it assume the shape of a rag.
Talking of regularity of publication, the one maintaining it ever since its inception in 1935, is the monthly Adab-i-Latif. In fact, two issues of the magazine have descended rapidly at my desk. These are for the months of April and May. As I gather from the letters to the editor appearing in these issues, the regularity with which this magazine is being published is being praised all over.
The same source tells me that the January issue of the magazine devoted entirely to Baudelaire has been widely appreciated. However, I must give full credit to the correspondents who have accepted that they hardly knew much about the French poet prior to going through that particular issue of the Adab-i-Latif.
By the time these lines appear in print, the editor of the Adab-i-Latif, Siddiqa Begum, would be enjoying the luxury of some multi-storey hotel in Kuala Lumpur. She is also scheduled to visit Bangkok. A usual visitor to the West during the summer months, she has decided to have a peep at the Far East this time.
Shaista Hasan is persisting with her crusade for women's rights and is regularly bringing out the monthly Shohar-i-Namdar despite all odds. In fact, what has surprised me this time is the appearance of its June issue on the 30th of May. Some punctuality!
The present issue carries a well documented article by Asnath Kanwal. It is about karo-kari, the horrific custom prevalent in Sindh and Balochistan. The title of the magazine has been conceived this time by Saeed Bodla. Based on two flowers, it depicts the larger one as the devoted housewife while the smaller, with a thorny stem, stands for the husband who dutifully, and constantly, believes in creating hell in the house. It goes well with the basic concept of Shohar-i-Namdar.
Another magazine on my desk is the quarterly, Navadir. Being rather new in the race, it deserves being dealt with in some detail.
The late Dr Syed Nazeer Hasnain Zaidi was a renowned educationist and man of letters. His contributions in this regard from the 70s to the 90s have not had the publicity they deserved. He has authored at least a dozen books, the best known among them being those covering the life and work of Maulana Zafar Ali Khan.
With a view to bringing the veritable personality to the notice of the people and provide him the acknowledgement he deserves, a Majlis-i-Yadgar-i-Nazeer Hasnain Zaidi has been formed by his son, Syed Masud Zaidi. He has chalked out an elaborate programme for holding seminars and literary discussions on the thoughts and works of his father. He also intends setting up a library in his memory.
In the same connection, he has started the publication of the quarterly Navadir which is now in its eighth edition. Published from Mustafaabad in Lahore, it is a literary, as also a research oriented journal, edited by his talented wife, Shaheen Zaidi. She has a panel of some notable literati to assist her. These include Dr Waheed Qureshi, Dr Rasheed Amjad, Dr Yunus Javed and some others.
The present issue of Navadir contains absorbing reading material, both light and heavy. Among the lighter ones is Merey Asataza by Dr Rasheed Amjad in which he talks about the teachers who impressed him the most. Then there is an instalment on the last days of Noon Meem Rashed by Prof Ziaul Hasan. The article on Firaq by Fatima Hasan is specially recommended. For those interested in reading some heavy stuff one can turn to the article on Hasrat Mohani by Shafqat Razvi.
The relentless matriarch of art
If ever there was a matriarchal figure in our history of art education, it was Anna Molka Ahmad. Her vigorous, passionate, forthright and creative attitude to life may have brought upheavals and tribulations to her, but it also led her to establish an esteemed institution of art in a place where there was no such facility, and also brought forth from her a prodigious output of paintings, drawings and sculpture.
As the foundation of the Fine Art Department of the Punjab University way back in 1940, she has left us a legacy of art education that is awe-inspiring, and her numerous students, many of them now well known in their own right, respect and remember her as a teacher who left an indelible mark on their lives.
Most serious students of art, even those who have not known here personally, are familiar with her name and her style of painting. Her thick impasto, expressionistic, yet realistic imagery is not in need of a signature, or for that matter any explanation, for it is as obvious and forthright as its maker.
Nonetheless, there is so much of her work that has not been viewed by the public that it would be a pity if it were not displayed as well as preserved for posterity. Luckily, the Pakistan National Council of the Arts (PNCA), under the guidance of its director, Raja Changez Sultan, has taken up the task of displaying the works of our posthumous senior artists, and the most recent endeavour in this regard has been an exhibition of the works of Anna Molka Ahmad.
This was no small task and a lot of credit needs to be given also to the PNCA's Amna Pataudi, who made a very personal effort to put together an exhibition of Anna Molka's work at the Shakir Ali Museum, Lahore.
I need not go into the details of Anna Molka's personal life, her struggles and achievements, as one can find ample information on that in most books on Pakistani art and, of course, in the brochure available at the Shakir Ali Museum.
For the while, there is space enough for only a sharing of impressions and ideas that have emanated in viewing the works of this senior artist whom I am tempted to call 'the matriarchal colossus of Pakistani art'.
There is a forceful consistency of expression and technique in the work of the Anna Molka Ahmad. Besides one very early self-portrait that appears somewhat smooth and sedate, the majority of the paintings, whether landscapes, portraits or conceptual compositions are imbued with an intensely rugged effect created by thick layers of paint laid on with a palette knife. The vibrant, at times even garish colours seem to be born out of an inner agitation as well as a passion for life, that could not be contained and spilled over on her canvases.
Her involvement with the land she had adopted as her own, her concern for its people and its problems all seem to be of an intensity not found in ordinary individuals. She has painted not only the buildings of this place, its scenic views and its gardens, but also its people, including the common man and his abject misery and suffering. Her depiction of the latter can be almost nightmarish. But then the truth tends to be bitter and Anna Molka does not shy away from the unpleasant realities of life and makes us look at it even if we would not want to.
In many works, she appears to be a visionary, and her compositions encompasses not only socio-political satire of an obvious sort, but also spiritual and metaphysical concerns which show a pre occupation with the certain but unknown realm of death. Her large mural like canvas 'Dance of Death' is an eerie and macabre but powerful work which shows a gory spectrum of individuals who bring death and destruction to mankind through their lust for power.
No one is spared in this almost prophetic canvas, be it the military, the jagirdars, the politicians or leaders of superpowers. Among other symbols, it is poignant to note the US statue of liberty perched precariously amidst a heap of dead bodies. Then there is another large canvas titled, International war which is a vigorous and straightforward comment on war and political affiliations and the havoc they create. History does indeed repeat itself, and what Anna Molka visualized and expressed many years ago is still true.
There are other, less disconcerting paintings like the views of her own house and its environs- which were rich in foliage and flowers, carefully tended by Anna Molka Ahmad herself, and she has captured all this in paint with warmth and loving intensity.
Numerous portraits as well as sculptures of individuals known to the artist show a personal involvement with the subject, be it a well known person or an ordinary acquaintance. Here again, one finds Anna Molka's passion for three dimensional, tactile surfaces, so that even in painting on a flat surface she creates a tangible, three dimensional effect.
There are times when the artist's level of agitation appears to cross reasonable bounds and results in a crudeness that is disturbing. Or else there is an almost naive lack of sophistication, especially in tackling religious subject matter in an abstract way, and in attempting calligraphy.
Nonetheless, her output of work is so prolific and so sincere a depiction of what she thought and felt, that the total body of work emerges as awe-inspiring. Anna Molka's greatness lies, above all, in her relentless commitment to life and art and the honesty which she brought to bear on both.
Anna Molka Ahmad work will be on display till June 27.