| 20 June 2004 | Sunday | 01 Jamadi-ul-Awwal 1425 |
The red stones of Dara Shikoh
Karachiites live in a territory where fear and uncertainty reign supreme. Living on a day-to-day basis, they keep waiting for the next bad news. It seems that some citizens are now glued either to the TV channels for these breaking-news stories, or onto the internet, to know what is happening on the streets of this unfortunate city.
Or so it seems, as one worried citizen, Mohammad Kasim, who lives in the densely-populated and neglected old Karachi, points out, whenever there is a protest call or a strike call or a sudden outbursts of violence and killing; disorder born of bomb blasts, suicide bombers, targeted killing, and crime, resulting in disorder that seems to be characterising our lives now.
On a Friday evening, once again in a context of an uneasy feeling and reports that there is "trouble" on the streets of Saddar, and that there is a three-day protest call by the Pakistan Peoples Party, following the shocking killing of Munawar Suhrawardy, conversation turns inevitably to the quality of life and the quality of law and order in Sindh capital.
In fact, to the society in general, it should serve as some indicator of how it is all going, were one to judge it by the fact that TV channels, private and state-managed, do discuss this theme with varying disturbing degrees of concern, anxiety, alarm, and in fact one private channel had a live discussion on Thursday evening, where a scholar and former Pakistan High Commissioner, Dr Akbar S Ahmed, used the word "anarchy" to describe what was happening here. It made one tremble.
But let me return to how this citizen Kasim expressed his dormant fears spontaneously, when he heard about how the windshields, and windows of cars parked in Saddar, on Friday evening, were smashed in anger. Keep in mind that this is a routine form of protest, and is often ignored. Loss of life and property on a larger scale is more talked about. Like small crime, as household theft or mobile snatching, is considered insignificant by the police, which sometimes considers it a 'small' crime even if your car is stolen or snatched.
Maintaining law and order seems to be a bigger challenge for police than that of keeping the crime rate low, and it becomes even harder when the already understaffed force is kept busy in in handling VIP security or political unrest, along with other law-enforcing agencies like the Rangers. In the given situation, it is understandable that ordinary citizens find the police wanting seriously in effectiveness when it comes to their daily lives.
As if symbolising the everyday fears of an average citizen, Kasim wondered about the safety of his car, parked in the charged parking lot on Dr Ziauddin Road, opposite the Commerce College. I thought of my car too. But then let me confess another fear: how safe is one when one walks to office from the parking lot, with one's briefcase in hand, or anywhere in this city, where handbag snatching is common. So insignificant is this insecurity, when it comes to the terror and trauma that Karachiites have on other counts.
Before reflecting on Sindh budget and the law and order allocation for the next financial year, let me make an observation about how, yet another, security checkpoint, fortified by sandbags, has appeared this week on the pavement outside the Pearl Continental hotel, reflecting how the visible armed security is growing in our city, in our lives.
Strange and sad, how this stretch of the pavement has two such security posts, reminding one of the not-too-recent past, when one would walk on this very pavement without a thought of being insecure. The two banks, and a travel agency adjoining it, have moved out, reflecting the changing commercial priorities in this tense city. That is another story. But the fact that I am scared to walk on this pavement is also another story.
Perhaps, Mohsina Safdar Husain, who was held up at gunpoint outside her residence in Defence's Phase-V extension, a couple of weeks ago, will also be apprehensive when she walks on that neighbourhood street again in the near future. Fear takes its own time to subside, it seems. She was walking with her five year son, when a young cyclist came and at gunpoint took away her mobile, and pedalled away. It was that easy. No motorcycle, no car. Just a bicycle to disappear after committing the crime. It symbolises the way in which criminals can operate successfully. Troubling thoughts. Despair?
I heard this story from her articulate husband, Safdar Husain, who himself was held up at gunpoint on Mauripur Road, while he was trapped in a traffic jam, so common on that road. Last month, on a working day around 3pm, driving to Site, he was held up by two young men, and was robbed of his mobile, wallet, Rs25,000 in cash, besides his credit cards etc. But see what this citizen did. After he was looted at gunpoint, he instinctively (and foolishly he says now) chose to chase the two criminals.
He got out of the car, deserted it in the traffic jam, and began shouting for help. Nobody came. He was ignored. The two robbers got into a minibus, while Safdar chased them in another minibus, and it went on. Of course, the two criminals escaped, and this is the point of emphasis. How much can the police do, in a city bursting at the seams, and where the Sindh government is forever crying for more help from the centre for resources. But this man kept chasing the criminals, even when they were firing at him. He went to the Shershah police station, and was told that the staff was at the Quaid's mazar on law and order duty.
There was a political gathering there, and the city was on alert. This was evidently a 'small' crime. He did not give up and spent the next several hours pursuing, and reporting the matter, in futility? He got a call many days later that the two men had been caught and he might come in for an identification. They were the wrong men. But Safdar says that he was told by the staff concerned that they had been told by their superiors that these two men were "guilty"! He didn't agree, saw the point being made, and left the police station, rather disenchanted.
Why did you chase the two men in the first place? we asked him. He was disappointed at the question, and said: "don't you realise that I was being looted at gunpoint, and I was outraged. My privacy was being invaded, and I wanted to strike back. Citizens should strike back," he went on.
And from here, our conversation swerved to the point why the society was not standing up for its rights. We have lamented this last week, and let me tell you what a citizen said to this: "this is the time to quietly lie down in safety. Not even sit or you will be a sitting duck". He was referring to the innocent people, who had been killed in crossfire. Innocent passersby. I remember, I lost a friend in one such encounter ten years ago in Korangi. He had gone to his relatives, where dacoits struck, and he got killed.
My friend told me another incident, where, when a family came to know about a robbery plan involving their servant and four other men. Area police was informed about the plan, who arrested all the accused. But, eventually the men were released on bail. That's it. That's all. Perhaps 'small' stuff really when you look at the enormity of the crimes being committed in the society.
Even policemen being murdered in cold blood and one such case took place this week in Karachi. And on the other side, horrifying stories on TV channels too, of how policemen are being charged by various sections of society of allegedly raping women, a case in point being a recent incident in Multan. Shame.
As one writes all this, thoughts shift to the role, image, and the capabilities of the police force. What do citizens think of them? do they want to go to a police station to report crime? what is the ground reality when it comes to police reforms?
Police keep stressing that not only is the police force understaffed, but it is manned by the people who also come from this very society. A society possibly battling itself, or as if? So when one sees in the new Sindh budget, announced this week, that the allocation for law and order is up, it is something to notice.
It reflects Dawn's June 18 editorial, which said: "Dismal law and order, escalating rapidly." The budget for this head has been rising steadily, while that for sectors like Health and Education has declined, reflecting a new vision for the suffering social sector. Will society react to this? That question is up again.
The questions that arise with this increased allocation for law and order (up by 27 per cent says a young statistician), is whether there will be a qualitative improvement in police in proportion to the money that society is spending on it. Will we have better policemen and women, from top to bottom, sooner than later. It should have happened yesterday, says a voice within.
The red stones of Dara Shikoh
Of all the monuments of Lahore, nothing represents the city more than the Badshahi Mosque. It might not be as beautiful as Wazir Khan's mosque, but it certainly is the trademark of the city, and, probably, represents the last of the great Moghal buildings to be built in the city.
Built in the year 1084 Hijra under orders of Aurangzeb, the last of the great Moghal emperors, its history has many strange twists and turns. Before Aurangzeb became emperor of India, his brother Dara Shikoh, after whom is named Shahdara (or correctly Shah Dara), was named the ruler, or prince, of Lahore by his father Shah Jehan.
He was a very well educated person, interested in poetry and the mystics. His love for the saint Mian Mir was well known. Shah Dara first got constructed the famous Chowk Dara Shikoh outside Akbari Gate, and from there he planned a red stone-lined walkway right up to the grave of Hazrat Mian Mir.
The idea was from him to walk barefoot every morning after prayers to offer 'fateha' at the grave of Hazrat Mian Mir. The massive amount of red stone needed for this royal walkway was all collected and construction started. It was planned that on the way would be fountains, trees and water tanks. Probably it was the most unique walkway ever planned in the world, or the known world then.
Barely had work started that Aurangzeb imprisoned his father and got murdered his brother Shah Dara Shikoh. He then ordered 'Fadai Khan Kooka', his "doodh bhai" - for Aurangzeb had been suckled by the mother of Fadai Khan, and'kooka' is a Turkish word meaning to give milk - to shift all the red stone meant for the walkway of Dara Shikoh and to build a mosque opposite the Lahore Fort.
So under the guidance of Fadai Khan was built the Badshahi Mosque. It was specifically ordered that the mosque must be bigger than the famous Jamia Masjid in Delhi, and the finest craftsmen were brought in to complete the work within his lifetime. The result was an exquisite mosque. But then no sooner had the mosque been finished than the western most minaret snap collapsed after an earthquake had struck Lahore.
The myth was then created that it was Providence's revenge for the murder of Dara Shikoh. The minaret was repaired, only to get hit again by another earthquake. This was enough to engrain in the minds of the people of Lahore the 'saintly intentions' of Dara Shikoh. Many called it the revenge of Hazrat Mian Mir. But all these were nothing compared to what was to follow.
Turmoil followed the death of Aurangzeb and the mosque began to lose the numbers who came to pray there. Very soon, it was difficult to muster a reasonable number to pray. The people of the walled city avoided the mosque out of sheer affection for Dara Shikoh. By the time the Sikhs seized power in 1799, the Badshahi Mosque lay in ruins.
Maharaja Ranjit Singh immediately converted it into stables for his horses, and by the time he died 40 years later, it had over 1,000 of the finest horses. To one side he made an ammunition dump, and initially many of the Sikh soldiers who conquered Lahore barracked there.
Thus for the next 50 years, the Badshahi Mosque lay in ruins, trampled by horses, soldiers and used for drunken bouts of the freeloaders of the Khalsa army of the Lahore Darbar. The minarets, which had beautiful white marble domes, were damaged, as was most of the red stone. Very soon, the grandest mosque of Lahore lay like a skeleton denuded of its beautiful exterior. The maharaja got the three undamaged minarets of the mosque partially knocked down for security reasons.
After the death of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, the next ten years saw the very worst period. Once when Maharaja Sher Singh came from Patiala to capture the Sikh throne in 1841 from Rani Jindan, he mounted cannons on the top of what remained of the 143 feet high minarets and bombarded the Lahore Fort where the Rani was.
In return the gunners of the Rani pounded the mosque. For three whole days and nights the pounding continued. The floors of the mosque were damaged, the side buildings were all hit. This reduced the mosque to a state where there was a suggestion that it be razed to the ground to ensure the future safety of the Sikh rulers.
But then a fey years late when the Sindhianwalia sardars took the Lahore Fort and Raja Hira Singh surrounded the citadel, the mosque was again used to pound the fort, and in return the gunners inside the fort returned fire. The mosque was then, as one accounts puts it, reduced to a mere skeleton. One account jokingly described it "like the face of the pockmarked maharaja Ranjit Singh, whose one eye was blind". Ironically, yet another earthquake hit the mosque in 1840. The curse of Dara Shikoh, or Mian Mir, call it what you like, had returned.
When the British East India Company moved into Lahore before the final demise of the Khalsa rule, they preferred to respect the feelings of the Muslim of Lahore, who had a considerable hand in assisting the British get rid of Sikh rule, and removed the horses and ammunition from the mosque. They held their Sunday services in Hazuri Bagh. In 1856, Sir John Lawrence, who was instrumental in keeping all British forces out of the mosque, handed back to the Muslims of Lahore possession of the mosque.
The document was signed by the 70 'most influential' Muslims of Lahore, and by the representatives of the Company. Its opening paragraphs needs to be reproduced: "Whereas from time preceding the Badshahi Mosque situated in the citadel of Lahore had been used for worship by the Mohammedans, and under Royal mandates the ancestors of Syud Boozoorg Shah, son of Kazee Ghoolam Shah, were custodians and priests of the mosque ..... Syud Boozoorg Shah has been appointed custodian and priest of the mosque..."
And so the mosque was returned to the Muslims in 1856, and from then onwards started a long period of reconstruction. It must be said here as the record shows, that the British Government did, from time to time, donated considerable amounts for the restoration of the mosque. Also influential Hindus, Sikhs and Muslims donated reasonable sums over the next 80 years. But the bulk of the money came from the poor of Lahore.
There was a time when the mosque was called "Chooani nikah" (four annas per nikah) masjid. This was a cess on marriages taking place in the mosque, and the funds all went to its repair. What one seems today is the over 140 years effort to restore this grand mosque, those stones were brought by Dara Shikoh, stolen by the Sikhs, partially recovered by Lawrence, and now, finally, restored to its original glory by the Government of Pakistan. May be, if just one symbolic red stone was removed and placed at the tomb of Hazrat Mian Mir, the uneasy soul of Dara Shikoh would rest better... maybe.