| August 07, 2006 | Monday | Rajab 11, 1427 |
As rain hits fragile infrastructure
IFTIKHAR Gilani’s diary of his ordeal in Delhi’s notorious Tihar Jail has now been translated into Urdu and published by Penguin Books, who last year brought out the English title “My Days in Prison”. The translation in Hindi script is titled “Jail mein katey wo din” and the Urdu version is called “Tihar mein mere shab-o-roz”. There is otherwise not much difference in the language. The translation is by Iftikhar and Nusrat Zaheer, a fellow journalist.
We always learn some thing new in Iftikhar’s company. This time round it was the fact that Urdu publications constitute the second largest exports from India after English books. This is what Penguin claimed, and perhaps this is why they have embarked on publishing Urdu titles in their Indian language imprint, Yatra.
The Urdu version is bound to be popular in Pakistan and with the South Asian diaspora elsewhere. Those who have read the English title must have noticed the tremendous irony that the author is capable of generating by his simple and factual reporting. From his illegal arrest on a baking hot afternoon in June 2002 to his gruelling torture by jail inmates, the narrative doesn’t betray even the slightest bitterness.
In fact, his description of some of his tormentors and those fellow inmates he got to observe closely reveals an impish humour despite the trauma he suffered. The character he etches of his wife Aanisa, a woman of fortitude and grit despite her fragile appearance and extremely vulnerable circumstances and details of his incarceration under the archaic Official Secrets Act are extremely moving.
There are a few incidents recounted by Iftikhar in the Urdu version that are missing from the English original. One new story refers to the two maulvis being tried for anti-national activities.
They are in Tihar because one has been named by the other as an accomplice. The lawyers suggest that the accuser take back his claim and put the blame on police for extorting the confession. The accuser decides to conduct an “istikhara”, a divine advice usually sought by trying to join the two index fingers with eyes closed. Since the fingers kept missing each other, the alleged accomplice’s stay in Tihar kept getting longer.
Most human rights workers would baulk at the idea of saying kind things about Rajbir Singh, the Delhi Police officer known as an encounter specialist. He has killed goodness knows how many innocent people in fake encounters, or so the accusation goes. If you were to ask supporters of S.A.R. Geelani, for example, the Kashmiri teacher who was named in the attack on the Indian parliament, they would identify Singh as a rogue officer and a bloody-minded killer. Iftikhar had a completely different experience with the officer and he didn’t hesitate to say it as he saw it.
He could have easily deleted the account concerning ACP Rajbir Singh, but that would not be Iftikhar. He writes: “The presence of the published version of the incriminating document caused consternation among the IB officials pursuing the case. They had searched my house thoroughly and found no trace of it. And now here it was. The Special Cell (of Delhi Police) was literally under siege. A number of IB sleuths descended on its premises. The police officers were trying to persuade them to drop the case since no offence was made out. From my room, which was adjacent to inspector Lamba’s, I heard ACP Rajbir Singh tell them the published version had made things crystal clear. But Gauba, Majid and company were in no mood to relent. While they agreed that no offence was made out, I could not be released so easily.”
Marvel also at Iftikhar’s ironical description of a “gentleman” with the straight-face that only he could keep. “…That afternoon an IB official came to meet me. He was an elderly gentleman, pleasant, polite. He asked me nothing pertaining to the document. Rather, he seemed more keen to explain to me his methods of interrogation. One of his favourites was to insert chilli powder into the rectum of an accused. In vivid details he explained what a person feels when subjected to third degree methods, and claimed that they had been perfected in India. Of the vast variety of torture techniques, most are simple and brutal. Others are far more sophisticated and use technology to maximize pain and leave few signs.”
Inside the prison, Iftikhar meets criminals of every kind. Of particular attraction to him was a rape convict who taught him the virtues of singing the National Anthem. There were others too. “Assistant Superintendent Kishan asked my name. Before I had finished saying it a Nepalese staffer slapped me. It was the signal for a free-for-all. I was kicked from behind, blows rained on my back and someone grabbed my hair and banged my head against the table. Blood started oozing from my mouth. My nose and ears started bleeding too. Accompanying these abuses were the choicest abuses. ‘Sala, gaddar, Pakistani agent,’ they were screaming. ‘People like you should not be allowed to live. Traitors should be hanged straightaway.’
“For about half an hour I suffered this ghastly display of patriotism as both the officials and the jail inmates exhorted each other to show me the punishment for treason. Finally I lost consciousness.” Perhaps among the worst tortures he endured in Tihar, Iftikhar remembers the day he was falsely told that his wife too had been arrested. That shattered him. When she is allowed to meet him one day, Iftikhar Gilani’s description of the feminine poise of Aanisa and his own trauma at meeting her in the state underscores his simple and lucid prose.
“I saw Aanisa. She was looking tired and pale. Her face was marked with lines of stress and anxiety. Seeing me in such circumstances must have been extremely hard on her. But just the sight of her face, the mix of relief and sorrow, hit me hard and I broke down, weeping inconsolably. This was the first time I had wept before her. She was shocked. She did not know what to do. Quickly, she pulled herself together, and forgetting all her worries and tensions she asked me what the matter was. It was extremely frustrating to talk to her through the barriers. And under the watchful eyes of my tormentors.”
Iftikhar Gilani’s life is an amalgam of bitter-sweet ironies and so it was not strange that among those who came to watch the release of the Urdu edition of his book was former defence minister George Fernandes. It was during his watch that the Indian army had helped falsely implicate Iftikhar in a case that was never there. But, we are also told that Iftikhar’s sudden and equally surprising release from prison would not be possible too without the strange, un-stated intervention by Mr Fernandes.
It is always fascinating to see how history repeats itself, not mechanically or in a circular way, but more like a tight spiral. Here is a classic from the archives of The Hindu, dated 5th August, 1956: President Nasser has denounced the Anglo-American-French statement on the Suez Canal as “pressure against Egypt with the threat to use military force.”
Cairo Radio broadcast on August 3 a point by point reply to the three-power conference statement. It said the London statement was tantamount to pressure on Egypt and a threat to use military force. It was also issued at a time of economic pressure from Paris, London and Washington aimed at intimidating the Egyptian people. It had declared that the Universal Suez Canal Company had an international character. “But it failed to acknowledge the fact that it is an Egyptian limited company.”
jawednaqvi@gmail.com
The rain that came pouring down on July 30 (Sunday), and has continued intermittently, wrecked havoc on the fragile infrastructure including electricity and water supplies and, as usual, badly disrupted life in Karachi.
I.I. Chundrigar Road, which had been dug up and closed to public transport for the past couple of months, saw the largest number of vehicles running into its softly covered trenches and getting suck there until they were pulled out. Cranes were seen pulling out vehicles belonging to the city government, including a fire tender. Such breakdowns were also seen on other roads, chiefly Khayaban-i-Iqbal, popularly known as the main Clifton Road.
A heated debate has been raging on, on the situation created by the flooding of the KPT underpass in Clifton. A lot of things have been said by experts, the city nazim and KPT officials about the project’s failure in siphoning off rainwater. Now committees have been formed to pinpoint responsibility for the fiasco.
The underpass’s closure triggered terrible snarl-ups on peripheral roads. People living in the nearby apartment buildings suffered immensely as vehicles spilled into the connecting lanes flooded by water. Rainwater also entered the basement parking lots of some buildings, forcing occupants to move to safer places.
Chaudhry Khaliquzzaman Road, which bore the brunt of the traffic diverted from the Clifton road, has been ruined beyond recognition. Deep and wide potholes in front of Delhi Colony entice motorists into changing track where possible. It adds to prolonged traffic jams in the surroundings. This stretch has been plagued for years by an underground sewer and every time it bursts, it takes months to repair. The last carpeting was done hardly a month ago.
The Malir river was in spate turning into a real one as it otherwise carries only waste from the Korangi Industrial Area and adjoining localities. As it flowed over the Korangi Road passing through the riverbed, Landhi-Korangi traffic was diverted to the industrial area road and consequently there were snarl-ups around the under-construction flyover near Qayyumabad.
This spot has developed such craters that a trailer shook so violently that it dropped its container onto a passing-by car on Friday night, killing two of its passengers, including the son of a former town nazim.
The Lyari river also rose to threaten the poor families living along its banks. Many families were evacuated to safety but they had to put up in the open at least for the first night. There are gypsy families near the Teen Hatti bridge that have yet to be relocated though the threat of rain is still looming.
As the hapless KESC was struggling to its feet from its summer of discontent and its spokesman’s confident announcements that there would be no loadshedding, its transmission system received a severe battering from the rains.
Most of the 20 people who died in rain-related incidents since the current spell of rain were electrocuted from falling overhead cables.
People suffered outages sometimes for days. Desperate, they took to the streets and gave vent to their frustration by stoning vehicles and property and burning tyres on the roads.
The PTCL system was also quick to go haywire, leaving thousands of telephones dead or with inaudible voices and unwanted noises. On Monday and Tuesday thousands of complaints were recorded from across the city. But the worst affected were offices and businesses along I.I. Chundrigar Road. As its staff scrambled to remove faults, PTCL officials blamed the city government’s development work for the crisis. They further said that the accumulation of water hindered the telephone restoration work.
The blame-game goes on in a circle. If the roads are damaged, the relevant department says it was because of another civic agency that cut across the road to lay its own lines and set in motion further a quick erosion of the road. The Karachi Water and Sewerage Board lays the blame for its burst pipelines at the KESC’s door, saying it was the latter that failed to ensure an uninterrupted power supply. Sometimes the power utility blames the shortage of water at its grid station for the station’s malfunctioning or breakdown. And in this exchange of accusations and counter-accusations, the worst sufferers are the masses.
Sewerage also ruptured at numerous places. The dirty water mixed with rainwater and added to the mess. Pools of stagnant water have begun serving as breeding grounds for mosquitoes and flies.
As the mix of sewage and rainwater is seeping into waterlines, it has also given rise to waterborne diseases such as gastroenteritis. Hospitals are increasingly receiving patients with symptoms of waterborne diseases. The situation in the slum areas is worse as rainwater will remain stagnant there for weeks to come. Starved of recreational facilities, children of these localities try to take a dip wherever they find a pool or puddle deep enough.
People complaining about the messy situation invariably deride the city and town administrations’ claims that all preparations had been made to handle a rain emergency. But, as the rain aftermath demonstrated, nobody was adequately prepared. This included all tiers of local government, public utilities and civic agencies.
Harassment at KU
The harassment of a girl student appearing for LLB examination by an employee of Karachi University on July 28 is shocking. Besides the students appearing in exams on the KU campus, an estimated 65 per cent of the university’s students are female. This episode must have rung alarm bells in so many households.
What has appeared in newspapers clearly indicates that the employee concerned had evil designs when he reportedly insisted on the candidate’s body search. The details of this incident have appeared in all newspapers and the episode is too ugly to be retold. The harassed girl’s courage in exposing the KU employee’s wickedness rather than hushing up the matter should be appreciated.
That some students beat up the perceived offenders amounted to taking the law into one’s own hands. There was also no justification for the KU’s employees to boycott work in support of their colleague.
The three employees suspected of involvement in the crime have been suspended and are being investigated. The inquiry should be expedited and finalized and its findings acted upon. And the university administration should create congenial atmosphere on the campus for its female staff and students.
Cellphone scam
People using a particular prepaid cellphone connection are being deprived of their credit surreptitiously. Some people do not even know that this is happening.
“I thought that my sons might be using it though they have their own phones,” says a journalist. “But the other day when I checked the balance, it showed Rs278.36. After a while when I dialed a number a recorded message said: `You have reached your call limit. Please recharge your account before making any further calls’.”
Inquiries show that in some families more than one subscriber have been robbed of their credit.
It is now common knowledge that a device called `Super SIM’ is used to pilfer credit from telephones using that company’s connection.
The SIM is available in the market at certain outlets. “A friend of mine has this,” says Asif Arain. “He has bought it at the Delton Market in Defence Housing Authority for Rs5,000.”
“People from Punjab contact shopkeepers here and get orders for these SIMs,” said a vendor. These SIMs are sold in the market secretly.
“The mode to operate them is: dial *111# and press the button. An amount will appear in the phone ready for immediate use.”
Although the company makes no refunds, it has detected the problem. Now it says `use 123’ to recharge your account instead of `111’.
Experts say that the use of voice facility for inquiries about balance is safer than the text inquiry facility.
However, people are bound to lose their hard-earned money for a long time before the phone company overcomes this problem.
— Karachian
Email: naseer.awan@dawn.com