In the Lahore of the 1960s and 1970s, the annual matriculation examination results were a big event. Newspapers carried the results. The radio interviewed the top candidates. It was an important portion of the year's calender. This was followed by sports trials in colleges, to which flocked almost the entire sporting and social community. The young bucks were up on show and everyone was interested. It reflected the priorities of that age.
The three important educational institutions at which sports trials were held were the Government College, the Islamia College, and the Forman Christian College, Lahore. The Government College-Islamia College rivalry was a famed one - in every sport - and every time there was a GC-Islamia cricket match, the entire subcontinent was interested. The radio, and till the 1960s even All-India Radio, broadcast the results.
It was an event to match a Test match. So depending on which alma mater one belonged to, there was a deep interest that the very best sportsmen were admitted. It was a matter of reputation, of pride, of honour. Once the trials were over the teams took shape, and training started and then came the competitions. Sport had a definite place in the working of the educational system, a priority all its own, just as it is all over the 'same' world.
Nothing excited in Lahore more than the GC-Islamia cricket match. People in the walled city would put up scoreboards. Almost every vendor of the city headed that way. It was carnival time. The two teams, invariably, read like the Pakistan cricket team, and before the partition of the subcontinent like the Indian cricket team. In the late 1960s the GC cricket team had seven Test players, opening with Aftab Gul and Mushtaq Hashmi.
Then followed Majid Khan and an array of stars. The same went for the Islamia College team, which had five Test stars, including Asif Masood the fast bowler. Even the intermediate teams read like a "Who's Who" of potential star players.
The best thing about this arrangement was that those selected on 'sports basis' were provided with a 'diet allowance', meaning thereby that each player would consume a healthy diet of milk and fruit every day. The old 'Fruit Shop' of Government College thrived on these sportsmen. Every year the very best in each sport was awarded a College Blue, allowing him to wear a ribbon-edged college blazer. This was considered a great honour.
There is one such match, in which my elder brother played, that remains etched in my memory. The big day of the GC-Islamia cricket match came. All roads to the University Ground were blocked. The police was out in large numbers. Half the ground was occupied by GC supporters. The other half by Islamia College supporters. The usual slogans rang loud and clear.
The GC camp shouting "Khall laya lao" (Get yourself skinned) denoting the fact that Islamic College was funded by the Trust that survived on sacrificial goat skins. The Islamia College returned the compliment with the slogan "Surkhi Powder" (lipstick and powder) denoting the upper class nature of the students of GC. The banter was very healthy. Once play started and the GC batsmen got cracking, tempers got frayed.
I forget the details for I was very young, but the end result was that a massive riot broke out. Tear gas filled the streets right up to Anarkali almost a mile away. I rushed back home through the streets. My brother appeared with a bandaged head, for he had held on to a catch on the boundary. My father's sole comment was: "I have played for GC in the 1930s and never fought a war. But well caught." The old man had the latest news about the match, like every other Lahori, and he was a proud man.
Then came the day when the military authorities of Ayub Khan banned the match - for it posed a major law and order threat. That one ban did more damage to the cause of sports in Lahore than any other action the military has taken, for it effectively separated the people from educational institutions. Then came Gen Zia and sports seats were abolished. The mold for the warp was in place. The shop of Malik Sahib in GC closed, an institution that pains every Ravian even today. "I have served Edward Badshah and Bannerjee and Mankad with milk, how can you close down this shop," lamented the old man. The warps of our society as it stands today had taken form.
The traditions in hockey were equally well-known, with the FCC always putting forward a formidable team from the sizable Anglo-Indian community which produced great hockey players. Islamia had an edge in the muscular sports. The swimming teams of GC, King Edwards Medical College and FCC always clashed. Just last week I had the experience of watching a swimming trial at the King Edward pool. The scene was pathetic. As GC has knocked down its 'historic' pool, there was no other place to go to.
In my youth I have battled in this pool, which today is a shadow of its past. The wrought iron architecture is beautiful. The young man I went to shout for won hands down. The competition was missing. The magic has gone. An entire generation of sports men and women have been denied the glory of their youth, what to speak of reaching even higher goals. It is sad that in a city of almost nine million, there are only nine swimming pools. There is no gymnasium. The cricket grounds are being covered into housing plots, just as graveyards are. The warp seems very visible.
The effort to reverse this process needs a massive effort by every citizen, no matter where one stands in society today. This is the real 'jehad', for a scholar's ink runs deeper than a martyr's blood ... so wrote the slave Bilal. This was a favourite quotation of the late GC Principal, Dr Nazir.
Made in Pakistan
By Yasser Hashmi
Apparently the Japanese, not satisfied with their current reputation for weirdness, have invented a jacket with a built-in fan. Sooner or later, these jackets will make their way here, and I would like to predict some of the reactions that will take place. Firstly, there will be a tremendous controversy over whether or not it is allowed to say one's prayers in these jackets. The religious consensus will be that it is not, as the flow of cool air over the body leads to seductive thoughts and sensations. Second, a gold and diamond encrusted fan jacket will be impounded at customs and the government will claim it belongs to Asif Zardari, who will deny ownership.
The jacket will be custom made for an anonymous buyer and will have a diamond studded monogram that says Asif luvs Bibi. Third, a small factory in Gujranwala will invent a cheap version of the same jacket, but its battery will only last five minutes and will electrocute half of those wearing it as soon as they start to sweat. Every middle class house will buy the jackets along with a special storage cupboard with an in-built UPS recharger. However, the fad will soon wear off due to the fact that unlike the Japanese, no one will use or replace the deodorant stick provided along with the jacket.
There is no doubt about this nation's genius at indigenizing foreign imports. Everything that turns up here ends up looking very different. The neatest Mercedes truck, within six weeks of entry looks like a bride with full makeup and jewellery. The most tasteless, pork encrusted Chinese dish becomes sedately halal and wickedly spiced. Even the new multinational offices that appeared to have been designed and manufactured in San Diego, are slowly wilting in our damp climate.
When they first started, they were all chrome furniture, video screens and sharp suits. But of late I have noticed subtle changes, the video screens now only play cricket, there are scraps of waste paper and broken ball pens lying around. And finally, the unmistakable sign i.e., that nearly all of them have acquired a resident 'taki wala' who spends the whole day slowly pushing a wet rag around the room, taking a break after every five feet.
This inevitability of change leads me to wonder how the new prime minister will appear once he starts becoming indigenous. But by the time our 'aab-o-hawa' is finished with changing him, I suspect he will not be able to use a cash machine at his former bank without setting off a fire alarm. Somehow, I imagine him ending up somewhere between a Bedford truck and Schezuan Chicken dish i.e., heavily made up and spicy. Already, he has paraded his religious credentials, which is a good though obvious start.
I think that as a next step, he should start wearing a subtle line of surma under the eyes especially when appearing in parliament. Next he could borrow Fazalur Rehman's orange pugri and Karzai's ... well .. drape. I would not recommend he borrow anything from the Benazir wardrobe. The possibilities are endless and I am sure that the outcome will be a success. Of course, he will need to be careful because if he is too successful in becoming an indigenous prime minister, he will end up hung, in jail, or in exile in Saudi Arabia.
To end up, there is an old joke which shows that the talent for indigenizing is spread all over the sub-continent. It seems that at one point, American scientists invented a wire 100 times thinner than the human hair. Not to be outdone, Japanese scientists immediately invented a wire 100 times thinner than the American one. A few weeks later, a Sardarji held a news conference at his motorcycle workshop near Amritsar and announced that he had outdone both parties.
When asked for proof, he showed two extremely thin wires. Journalists objected that these were in fact American and Japanese wires. But the Sardarji produced a microscope and it turned out that though the wires were imported, he had managed to write 'made in India' on both of them.