Following Eid prayers at a Clifton mosque, the imam raised his hands in "dua". The congregation followed. Halfway through, there was a pause and then over the loudspeaker came the sound of sobs and hiccups. The imam had obviously broken down. For the next five minutes as everyone kept their hands raised in "dua", there was only the crying of the imam to be heard.
Emotion has to be respected. But grief and penance are extremely personal matters and should not be turned into a public spectacle. Then, instead of understanding and sympathy, they stand in danger of drawing snide remarks. During the tearful interlude, one member of the congregation was heard saying: "The imam should either cry or end the dua so that we can disperse and greet one another."
Someone later said some other mosque imams had also taken to breaking down in the middle of supplication. There is a TV presenter too who in his religious programmes seeks to play with the emotions of the more gullible of his viewers. Is that a new twist to the growing religiosity that is replacing the spirit of our religion?
Art seminar
The Pakistani art market has never been livelier. Apart from discerning art lovers who have a good eye for paintings and sculptures, the nouve riche have also started to invest in art, with the result that works of art are becoming prohibitively expensive. The number of art galleries has also risen over the years. But what one still misses is a critical evaluation of artwork by scholars.
However, Karachians may no longer complain about the absence of an academic discourse on art in the city. The national section of the Paris-based International Art Critics Association is holding a two-day seminar which would, to quote the organizers, put "Pakistan on the map of art scholarship."
The seminar will be attended by speakers from Bangladesh, the United Kingdom, Austria, Germany, Italy, Canada and Pakistan. The AICA president, Henry Hughes, will also take part in the two-day seminar which will begin on Nov 25.
On the first day of the seminar the participants will discuss "Art criticism and nation", and "Strategies in art criticism". The second day will see speakers discuss "Urban energies" and "Globalization of art - inclusive or exclusive?"
Much in a name
Karachi has not one, not two but three colonies named after Delhi - the Delhi Mercantile Society, Dilli Saudagaran Society and Dehli Colony. There is Bombay Town in North Nazimabad, which has houses mainly occupied by people who migrated from the coastal areas near Mumbai, mainly those from Kokan.
But then there is also a Kokan Society, and not too far from there is C.P. Berar Society, but far away from both is Bihar Colony, which can be classified as a shanty town. There are entrepreneurs who have named their businesses after their home towns.
Pilibhit Oil Depot in Liaquatabad is a case in point. Ambala Sweet Meat Mart, on Burnes Road and in Saddar, was doing fairly well. The owners moved to London, where they have done very well. People who go from Ambala to the UK are surprised to learn that the business moved from their city to London via Karachi.
English Boot House and English Book House were owned by an Englishman during the Raj on what was until recently Elphinstone Street. When he couldn't resist the call of his motherland, he sold the two outlets to a Karachian, who in 1947 sold the outlets to two migrants from India. English Book House closed down, but English Boot House remains very much in business. And this trait of naming cities after the migrants' home towns in not limited to the subcontinent. There's St Petersburg in the US and London in Ontario, Canada.
Murder of a son
A former colleague reports how a bereaved father feels about the murder of his son: I have only met him a couple of times, but the one thing that strikes you about this activist is that he speaks his mind quite undeterred and candid words seem to never leave his side.
Today I called him up for a different reason. I called him to offer my condolences on the death of his young son, Faraz Ahmed, a 22-year-old university student whose badly tortured body was found on Nov 10 behind father Baseer Naveed's office.
"It was so badly mutilated I couldn't recognize my own son," Naveed says. He took his son's body to the Jinnah Postgraduate Medical Centre and "was there for three hours begging and pleading with the doctors to carry out a post-mortem, but they refused.
So I took him to Edhi for ghusl as the body was fast decomposing. Even there I asked the police to send a medico-legal officer to perform an autopsy but they did nothing. Finally we had his funeral prayers and buried him only to be told that the body will be exhumed and an autopsy performed. My family won't allow this."
In a voice sapped of all life and energy, this activist who wears quite a few hats - a journalist and controller at an FM radio - says: "What's the point of a post mortem in any case? We know who the murderers are and we know the motive."
Chop-chop
Foreign fast-food chains have been here now for nearly a decade. Every year, if not every month, new restaurants with fancy French, Italian and Mexican names crop up and find a clientele.
However, it is the chicken tikka and "khata khat" or "thaka thuk" eateries that have virtually taken over the city. People in once quiet residential localities now seem to have given up the battle to save their environs and got used to the things that go with it - the unending chop-chop sound well beyond midnight, the smoke that goes up and finds its way into apartments and homes, the ceaseless honking by customers, and of course the ubiquitous beggars, besides the traffic mess.
What is amazing is the rapidity with which a small eatery that begins in a small room with a few chairs turns into a full-fledged restaurant. It begins with a few chairs placed on the footpath. Then the stretch of the sidewalk occupied by the chairs increases. Soon they spill over to the road, and a full-fledged and busy restaurant comes into being.
In some cases, the management's employ uniformed security men with guns to ensure discipline, because these eateries are also patronized by the rougher lot who flare up at the slightest provocation.
All of these shops do not pay tax; some do, but cheat, because no cash memo is ever presented to the customer. So how much a barbecue shop earns is a matter of opinion, and the question is settled with the tax people on a mutually beneficial basis.
The city nazim should consider taxing such shops according to the number of chairs and tables placed on footpaths and roads. This would perhaps give the city administration some more money, though it would hardly serve to discourage encroachments - eating and serving being such a profitable hobby and business. Indeed, Karachi may soon earn the dubious distinction of being called a city of restaurants.
Daily trouble
A colleague reports that dropping her children to school on Sharae Faisal is a tough exercise that she has to go through every day. There is a cluster of schools in the area and traffic jams are a daily occurrence. Driving through the service lane is also difficult because a major chunk of the potholed road is occupied by cars parked on both sides.
According to her, bus drivers are least bothered about the safety of the children they bring to school, as they drop them on the main road and expect them to cross what is the one of the busiest arteries in the city. Getting late for work, parents don't venture into side lanes and, instead, park their cars on the main road, causing traffic coming from the airport to slow down.
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A flier came with the daily newspapers on one of the Eid holidays. It was from a catering service and advertised several "packages" or menus. The packages included "Seekh kabab (live)", "Kachori (live)" and "Chicken boti tikka (live)". Figure out the "live" bit yourself. It has the virtue at least of being graphic.