Highlights of the July 2004 issue
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What’s with the Banker?
By Zaffar Abbas
The atmosphere at the Pakistan Muslim League (PML) headquarters in Islamabad was a bizarre blend of anticipation and anxiety. Parliamentarians from the ruling coalition had got wind that Prime Minister Zafarullah Khan Jamali, having just met President Musharraf, was to make a statement. And it was more than evident that after braving five successive weeks of vicious intrigues, the premier was ready to throw in the towel.
Instead, what was of real concern for the leaguers was who their new leader would be. For five weeks, intense speculation and rumour mongering had thrown up a host of names for the coveted office, with commerce minister Humayun Akhtar presenting himself as the front-runner. Other aspirants walked in quietly, making no comment whatsoever, their silence only adding to the frenzied guessing game amongst journalists as well as the party back-benchers.
In walked Prime Minister Jamali with the Chaudhry brothers – Shujaat and Pervez Elahi – and with a little help from the security, managed to force his way through the overcrowded hall to the main dais. Jamali lost little time in announcing what was already known to most of his countrymen. Within 24 hours of declaring before his party and journalists that “he was neither being asked to resign, nor was he planning to do so,” the veteran politician from Balochistan announced he was stepping down “to pave the way for someone who could serve the country better.” There was pin drop silence in the hall until Jamali disclosed that the PML president Chaudhry Shujaat Hussain was to be the next prime minister. In an instant, the silence was shattered by thunderous applause, with some parliamentarians trying to push their way ahead in order to be amongst the first to congratulate the Chaudhry of Gujarat.
Reinventing Shaukat Does Shaukat Aziz have what it takes?
By Sanaa Ahmed
Does Shaukat Aziz have what it takes
In a lot of ways, he has been training for something like this all his life. Prime minister designate Shaukat Aziz’s meteoric rise up the Citibank ladder suggested a man who was an instinctive politician. And within the context of civil-military relations in Pakistan, his track record has borne out this argument. Within five years, he’s managed to sell himself to the establishment as their premier. As General Musharraf was forced to shed his ambivalence towards the religious lobbies, Aziz emerged as the face of liberal Pakistan with his many supporters assuring countrymen that his demonstrated competence and relative transparency will work wonders for Pakistan. What remains to be seen now, is whether the suave technocrat can make the transition to visionary leader.
Partners Invision
By Aamer Ahmed Khan
One hardly knows Shaukat Aziz well enough to sit in judgement on what he may or may not do for Pakistan on becoming the country’s 21st prime minister. We have some idea of his success as a Citibank executive and we know that some seven million Pakistanis are poorer now than they were when he took over as the finance minister in November 1999. We are also reminded – incessantly, one may add, and amidst a defeaning din from dissenters of all shades – of the miraculous economic turnaround that he is supposed to have engineered. Beyond that, all one can say with certainty is that instead of one, Pakistan will soon be governed by two visionaries. That doesn’t sound too good, does it?
Between The Lines
By Idrees Bakhtiar
I was just past my teens when I began to take in the bigger picture. And the first thing I discovered was that in this land of ours, no rules apply other than brute force. Little did I know that the lesson would be repeated again and again: dictators grabbing power, each claiming to be a messiah, each worse than his predecessor. No wonder we are in such poor shape.
Collateral Damage
Ayesha Tammy Haq
Take the Delhi Gymkhana, for instance. With its uniquely sprung dance floor that has not been turned into a library, the club continues to be the social hub of the who’s who. Old money, new money, the nouveau pauvre, sons of members and those privileged enough to live in the right zip code can be found propping up the bar night after night. This may sound familiar to many in Karachi but unlike gatherings this side of the line of social control, men and women interact with ease.
The cast of characters is equally interesting, though. While the hallowed halls of the old boys’ network in Lahore and Karachi are either time-locked in the Raj or the stock exchange, Delhi has a pulse. Pony-tailed former ambassadors, thoroughbred princes and sons of princesses graced with the confidence of an Oxbridge education thrive. Sadly, that genre seems to be dying in Pakistan. Gone are the ideologists and dashing constitutional lawyers. The blue-blooded gentlemen are being replaced by aspiring feudals whose idea of style is a swagger, a gunman and a Land Cruiser.
The Final Cut
By Saad Sayeed
Four years from that fateful day in Pasadena, California, Baggio stood, ball at his feet, in front of a packed stadium with only the goalkeeper between him and the net. He braced himself for another penalty, this time in Italy’s opening game of France ’98, a crucial point and redemption hanging in the balance. This was his moment. Two steps and bang, almost in slow motion it seemed, the ball went into the far corner of the goal. A hero was reborn.
Baggio was and will always remain my favourite footballer. But then, he is the quintessential sporting icon, loved by all. And it was that ‘flaw’, the penalty miss, that made Baggio who he is. And so it remains. Before the European Championships in Portugal last month, Italian fans chanted his name, demanding his return to the national team for one last hurrah. Baggio may have retired but he still kicks about in the hearts of football fans the world over.
Going for Brass
By Syed Shoaib Hasan
The message was clear: no man or place in Karachi was safe. And that was not all. The attack on the corps commander’s convoy on June 10 set millions of tongues wagging on the timing, the possibility of an ‘inside job’ as well as that of dejected militants taking on the army for its perceived betrayal in Afghanistan and Kashmir. Even the MMA and the MQM found themselves in the dragnet of rumours, a possibility that was immediately and strongly quashed by AIG Tariq Jamil.
“There is no evidence to suggest any involvement of any political party,” he told reporters shortly after the attack.
However, coming as it did in the wake of the Wana operation, it was natural for observers to point to a possible connection between the near-fatal attempt on the life of the Karachi corps commander and the disillusionment setting in within the amorphous militant cadres spread from Kandahar to Kashmir. For once, these observers were not too far off the mark. Investigations into the preceding month’s violence had produced some startling evidence for such connections. And this evidence was further corroborated when the law enforcement and investigative agencies went into an overdrive to try and figure out why the unthinkable had suddenly become a reality.
Black Prince wants no role in Zardari’s persecution
By Nadeem Saeed
Mushtaq Malik is a man larger than life. Currently facing charges of drug trafficking, he has also been named as a prosecution witness in a narcotics smuggling case against former first husband Asif Zardari. But the legal entanglements don’t seem to faze him any. Ensconced in the bakhshi khaana at the district court, the articulate Malik is all smiles and hospitality: “Would you care for another Coke?” When he’s not threatening recalcitrant FIA officials or schmoozing with army generals on his cellphone, Malik chats amiably with his four women lawyers (“I want to encourage women to enter the legal profession,” he says). The Black Prince, as he’s popularly known, is clearly someone to reckon with. This explains how he got away despite resiling from the statements he had made against Zardari.
Rahim replaces Mehr in quiet Sindh changeover
Syed Shoaib Hasan
On June 10, Dr Arbab Ghulam Rahim, an MPA from Tharparkar, was sworn in as the chief minister of Sindh. Brought in to improve Karachi’s deteriorating law and order situation, something his predecessor Ali Mohammad Mehr failed to address, Rahim’s first administrative action as CM was to have his personal pir and faith healer Manzoor Mangi released from Karachi’s Central Jail where he was serving time for fraud. The CM not only sent his private car to pick Mangi up on the day of his release but he also took him to Saudi Arabia as part of his entourage for an umra trip.
But such blatant disrespect of the law does not always escape unchecked. The press had a field day with the story and the CM was given a firey baptism through sarcastic reminders from columnists that he was supposed to set the tone for a serious law and order improvement in the sprawling metropolis.
Government moves to document bourses through taxes
Ali Hassan
As expected, small investors took to the streets in an unprecedented show of defiance on Monday June 14, the first working day after the budget announcement. “Withdraw the CVT,” they chanted and the demonstrations soon turned ugly as several amongst them started stoning the stock exchange building. Though the mob was easily controlled, their protest did not go unheeded and by the time the budget was finalised, the CVT had been cut to a mere 0.01 per cent.
One reason for the government’s rapid response was the battering that the market took in the wake of the initial announcement. When trading started at the Karachi Stock Exchange (KSE) on June 14, more than 300 companies witnessed their share prices plummet. The market fell by a staggering 3.1 per cent or 166 points with only 196 million shares being traded on the day as opposed to an average of around 500 million. Similarly, the Islamabad and Lahore stock exchanges fell by 255 and 106 points respectively. In order to prop up the markets, the government asked banking institutions to step in and shore up the bourses. But their presence only resulted in a minor recovery as the indices and turnover sunk to new lows.
Polluted water causes 68 deaths
in Mamukanjan
Shamsul Islam Naz
Not that this situation is bothering the authorities any. The drainage wing of the irrigation department doesn't care as long as the offending industrialists cough up the annual 11,000 rupee dumping fee.
Rapist policemen seek refuge in fiction
Nadeem Saeed
Few things motivate policemen more than the plight of their own. Since four cops of New Multan Police Station (NMPS) were accused of the gangrape of two street singers, their friends in uniform are scurrying around gathering evidence to the contrary. Unfortunately, their efforts smack more of creativity than efficiency.
On May 14, young Shazia, her mother Zarina, Tabbasum and Kauser were on their way home from a wedding around midnight. The party was intercepted by a police mobile and Shazia, 18, and Tabbasum, 30, were whisked away for ‘questioning’. The elderly Zarina and Kauser, apparently, were unfit for interrogation and were left behind. The young women were taken to the NMPS where they said they were raped by four uniformed men and two men in civvies.
The following day, the women’s lawyer Arshad Gujjar tried to file an FIR at the NMPS. The officers on duty, however, refused to do so point-blank. Gujjar then moved a judicial magistrate who constituted a medical board to examine the two victims. The report confirmed that both Shazia and Tabbasum were tortured and criminally assaulted.
The next day, newspapers hauled up the police for breach of procedure. As a result, NMPS SHO Saeed Akhtar Gujjar suddenly realised that the girls had been telling the truth. Drawing in part from the girls’ statements before the magistrate, he went ahead and filed a sketchy FIR against six “unidentified” men.
Three days later, the police had the full story. The ‘six’ culprits were actually two civilians – Rana Sohail Akhtar and Shahid Ashraf. At a press conference on May 18, the police paraded the two and insisted that no policemen were involved in the crime. The fact that the two had confessed was apparently enough to exonerate all others. As a result, the DPO didn’t even see the need to have the NMPS force paraded before the two victims. Meanwhile, Akhtar and Ashraf were incarcerated even before the victims identified them in a line-up.
Disgusted at this show of loyalty, the women immediately filed their statements before a judicial magistrate, reiterating that four of the rapists were policemen. The lawyers at the Society for Awareness about Fundamental Rights and Education also petitioned a local court to register a second FIR. The court, however, merely directed the NMPS to expand the original to include other charges levelled in the statements before the court.
But the police stuck to their guns and insisted that the case was over. In fact, Punjab police chief Saadatullah Khan was so convinced of his boys’ innocence that he asked the chief justice of the Lahore High Court to launch a judicial probe into the matter.
Keenjhar tragedy victims still awaiting compensation
Raza Hassan
Two-year-old Mushkbar Fatima of Malir’s Jaffar-e-Tayyar society has just celebrated her birthday. Her father Syed Mustafa Kazmi, however, finds it difficult to respond to Fatima’s engaging smile. Her birthday came four days before the first death anniversary of 26 members of Kazmi’s family including his wife, two other daughters and a son. On June 1 last year, the family had gone for a picnic to an island in Keenjhar lake. The boat capsized and Fatima was the sole survivor. Adding to Kazmi’s sorrow is the fact that city officials milked the tragedy for political gains by promising large compensation packages and have since disappeared.
“We don’t want to blame anyone for the incident but the government should have at least set up some sort of first aid facility at the lake since they charge a number of taxes at various points on the way,” points out a family member. At the time, the government’s recognition of its indirect responsibility and the scale of the tragedy compelled the provincial and city governments to jump in. The day after the accident saw government functionaries virtually competing over the size of the compensation packages. Provincial minister tourism and culture bid 100,000 rupees while the city nazim pledged 2.5 million.
Seven-year-old beaten up and raped in Lahore
Fasih Ahmed
Residents of the squatter settlement under Mian Mir Bridge, the Christian family lives in a hut fashioned out of cane matting, rags and loose bricks. That morning, Sherrie had gone to skip rope under the cool of the bridge. Although the girl had none of her four siblings with her, she wasn’t afraid. The spot was near their hut, peopled with food stalls, whirring with traffic. It was here that the would-be rapist made his move.
A resident of the same settlement, 23-year-old Ali Bahadur was no stranger to Sherrie. He worked at a nearby restaurant and was a frequent visitor to the food stalls under the bridge. When he promised Sherrie snacks and a beverage, the trusting child obediently followed him to an abandoned house. Some eight hours later, Sherrie’s mother Parveen Barkat found her lying huddled in the dirt, her clothes damp with the blood trickling down her legs and forehead.
Cradling the frail child as she hurried home, Parveen had no idea her daughter had been raped. “We rushed Sherrie to the hospital when she wouldn’t stop bleeding. Drops of blood kept trickling down her legs, even as she slept,” recounts Karam Bibi. The medical examiner reported bruises all over Sherrie’s body and confirmed rape. According to him, the seven-year-old had been punched repeatedly in the stomach and the head and brutally ravaged. When Sherrie finally came to, she positively identified Bahadur as the sole perpetrator.
Out of office, Mehrs face the music in Ghotki
Syed Farman Ali
The Baloch tribes accuse Ali Mehr, among other things, of ordering the police to torture members of their tribes. They now claim to have mustered enough support in the district government to replace Gohar Khan Mehr with either Jam Saifullah Dharejo or Khalid Khan Lund. Sensing blood, veteran politician Ghulam Mustafa Jatoi has started to canvass for his own horse, former MPA Sardar Ahmed Yar Sher.
Gohar Khan Mehr’s expected ouster has already spawned a spate of rumours regarding the government’s game plan for dealing with the aftermath.
Petty fraud by petty officials in Sukkur CBR
Syed Farman Ali
The story began when the manager of NBP’s Sibi branch stumbled upon the five million rupees stashed away in one of his accounts. Since the account belonged to one Daudpota, a clerk at the income tax department, the manager became suspicious. Fortunately for the inquisitive manager, Daudpota turned out to be a novice and had left a highly visible trail leading all the way to the regional income tax head office at Sukkur.
Skin diseases rampant at religious seminaries
Ali Khan
According to dermatologist Dr Maqsood Anwar who regularly volunteers at seminaries, most institutions do not bother to segregate the healthy students from the afflicted ones. “The madrassah administrators discourage intervention by doctors because they feel we’re contaminating the minds of their students. What they don’t realise is that many skin infections don’t just scar the body, they also have an impact on mental health.”
‘Lasharisation’ of Islamabad promises concrete for green
Ali Khan
Cybercafe owners using spy cameras on customers
Mohammed Arsalan
A popular CD doing the rounds in most urban centres features one such couple. The ‘film’ begins with the crying girl pleading with her friend to let her go. As the story proceeds, the girl eventually capitulates and the rest is recorded in graphic detail by the wall-mounted hidden camera. Many films are actually a compilation of various clips, professionally edited and overlaid with film songs and lewd dialogue. And, if the shopkeepers’ accounts are anything to go by, they are selling like hot cakes.
Mistaken Identity
Arman Sabir
True Grit
Nadeem Saeed
“What household chore do you find most difficult?” asks 40-year-old Shama Riffat. “Ironing clothes,” I reply. She bursts into peals of laughter. “I iron my father and my brother’s clothes everyday,” she gurgles. Besides cooking, cleaning, embroidering and teaching she runs a successful business from home. Her incredible joie de vivre spills over everything she touches and makes “Shama baji” the most popular figure in the neighbourhood. Incredible, for a woman who was born without arms.
The eldest of three sisters and a brother, Shama lives with her parents in a small house situated near Pak Gate in the walled city of Multan. Her father runs a small general store close to their home and Shama packages the mehndi he stocks. “My brand is so popular, I can’t meet the demand for it,” she gloats. “I want to expand my business by buying an automatic henna filling machine but am presently constrained by a shortage of funds.” Future plans also include the establishment of a boutique. “I want to provide employment to the girls in the neighbourhood so that they no longer remain dependent on their men folk,” she says determinedly.
Dreams made cheap
By Hussain Askari
Will the government’s decision to lower import duties on reconditioned cars force local manufacturers towards indigenous production?
Local car assemblers are up in arms thanks to the government’s decision to lower the import duty on reconditiond cars from 113 to 50 per cent. In response, their critics argue that assemblers will have to cut only a small chunk of their enormous profits to compete. After all, government support has enabled local ‘manufacturers’ to create a monopoly in the automobile industry that allows them to slack off and still turn over profits far greater than their initial investments.
The trouble began when customers were forced to make 100 per cent down payments to book cars, instead of the initial 25 per cent. This prepayment let companies such as Pak Suzuki quickly recover the two billion rupees it invested to set up its production plant [figures taken from independent estimates]. Similarly, Toyota and Honda also invested no more than two billion in establishing their operations. In turn, Suzuki earned approximately 20 to 25 billion rupees in 2003-04 through bookings, while both Honda and Toyota grossed between 10 and 12 billion rupees each.
“These companies are taking money from the public to assemble cars for them and are then selling them back at extremely high prices,” complains Ali Imran, an accountant who got his car eight months after making the down payment. “No risk, just guaranteed profit,” he adds. Clearly, the manufacturers prefer using the customer’s money to fund their assembly lines instead of procuring bank loans. Ironically, despite these backward methods, manufacturers are still unable to meet the 150,000-cars-a-year demand.
All that you can’t leave behind
From Dileep Premachandran in Bangalore
In an ideological about-turn, stalwarts of the BJP are reverting to the party’s original Hindutva rhetoric.
The book of Ecclesiastes in the Bible speaks of “a time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together.” For the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), still reeling from the election debacle, it appears that the time to cast away stones is imminent. But it has come as a shock that many in the hierarchy seem to be targeting the biggest boulder of all, Atal Bihari Vajpayee.
The roots of the schism aren’t hard to find. After years of silence mocking paeans sung in his honour, Vajpayee had finally given his convenient conscience an airing during a holiday in Manali. Having changed tack as often as a weathervane in the aftermath of the gruesome riots in Gujarat two years ago, he finally commented on Narendra Modi’s government. Given his treatment of minorities and the fact that the trial in the infamous Best Bakery case was shifted to Mumbai after it was alleged that a free and fair trial would be impossible under Modi’s rule, Vajpayee admitted that Gujarat may have cost his party the election.
“Pakistani generals have always been ready to usurp power by hook or by crook”
By Ali Khan
Firebrand MNA and acting president of the Nawaz League Makhdoom Javed Hashmi has long aggravated the military junta by lambasting prominent generals and their sycophantic cronies. So it was not entirely unexpected when on October 29, 2003, the law-enforcement agencies arrested him on multiple charges, including maligning the armed forces and attempting to incite them to mutiny. Ironically, Hashmi had predicted his arrest at a press conference in Islamabad only a few hours before by claiming: “[The government] is preparing a reference of high treason against me. I might be arrested.”
An FIR was registered on the statement of one Khursheed Ahmed under Sections 131, 500, 505-A, 469, 471, 124-A, 468 and 109 of the Pakistan Penal Code. The stated reason for his arrest was that Hashmi had distributed a letter that he claimed to have received from military officers allegedly disgruntled at General Musharraf’s policies. On April 12, 2004, Hashmi was convicted by the sessions court and awarded 23 years imprisonment. In response, the Alliance for Restoration of Democracy (ARD), also headed by Hashmi, and his own party the PMLN vowed to continue the legal battle for their leader’s release. A subsequent appeal filed in the high court is still pending.
Official sources told the Herald that a proposal is under consideration to de-seat Hashmi after his conviction in the sessions court. Although his case has yet to be decided in the high court, government legal brains believe that the convicted opposition leader can be de-seated under two clauses of the Constitution.
A Legacy in Ruins
By Saad Sayeed
From brimful to bottom of the barrel, Pakistan cricket has come full circle in just 11 years. The Herald explores the period between 1992 and 2003 in an attempt to trace Imran Khan’s legacy through the eyes of the greatest players of that golden generation.
Over the years many influential figures have gathered in this room to discuss the future of Pakistan cricket. Shaharyar Khan, the present chairman, was there soon after taking charge of the board. Here, decisions have been made, good and bad, that have altered the fabric of the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB). But what forever changed the face of the game in this country was a decision made some 14,000 miles away on March 11, 1992. It was a sunny morning at the WACA ground in Perth when Pakistan captain Imran Khan walked out for the toss before a crucial encounter against Australia and declared that his side would fight like ‘cornered tigers’. A fortnight later, under the lights of Melbourne, Imran sent down an extremely ordinary delivery that would eventually go down as a landmark in Pakistani cricket. As Richard Illingworth slogged the ball straight into the hands of Rameez Raja, a new world order seemed to be in the making.
For four years after the World Cup win, Pakistan dominated Test cricket just as Imran Khan’s side had done in the late 1980s. There was one critical difference, though. While Test wins came fast and furious, there was turmoil in the ranks – frequent changes in captaincy, a drug scandal in the West Indies and most importantly, serious allegations of match fixing. Clearly, the authority gap left behind by the ‘Skipper’ was taking its toll. A legacy that was supposed to serve the country for countless years to come, was beginning to fall apart within months of Imran’s exit.
To this day, Pakistan’s cricket establishment has not been able to figure out what went wrong with the golden generation of Pakistan cricket.
Fixing Cricket
By Saad Saeed
Was match fixing the reason behind Pakistan cricket’s downfall?
Rashid Latif is convinced that match fixing was as much a part of Pakistan cricket as reverse swing. He even claims to have evidence to support his argument but refuses to divulge anything until his autobiography is released later this year. And Aamer Sohail supports Rashid’s stance: “We have to admit one thing: match fixing existed. It doesn’t matter what we say, it has been proven. I don’t know which matches were fixed but the courts have given their judgement.”
There are various games that have been looked into for their dubious nature including the 1999 World Cup matches against Bangladesh and India, the third Test in New Zealand under Saleem Malik, the 1994 tour of Sri Lanka and many more. “The 1994 tour of Sri Lanka was fixed,” says PCB CEO Rameez Raja. “You could hear it from the players, there were two groups in the dressing room. I didn’t play a single match because they didn’t want me to be a part of the whole show because they wanted to play their cards by their rules. It was obvious on that tour … the players were at each others throats and always exposing each other. As for other matches, it’s just speculation. Hearsay.”
To the Lighthouse
Huma Yusuf
Zamir Niazi: 1932-2004
By Idrees Bakhtiar
In a rare moment of prescience, Ibrahim Jan Mohammad Darvesh adopted the name Zamir Niazi, for besides being the only chronicler of the chequered history of Pakistani journalism, he also doubled as the zamir or conscience of the press. This was the calling to which Zamir sahib devoted his life until his last days, despite failing health.
Zamir sahib began his journalistic career in India at a relatively young age with the Bombay-based Urdu daily Inquilab. But this proved to be a brief port of call, as he would recall many years later. “I changed three newspapers within two years, as the Urdu newspapers were notorious, even then, for not paying their staff properly.” After migrating to Pakistan in 1953, Zamir sahib worked with the Karachi eveninger Nai Roshni where he would monitor the radio while lounging at a nearby hotel. This too proved to be a short stint as he soon left the publication to join Pakistan Press International and then Dawn in 1954 for a few years before proceeding to Business Recorder where he remained until his retirement.
Let There be Light
By Ali Ahsan Halai
His latest venture unfolds closer to home. Just last month, the Pakistan chapter of LUTW introduced the organisation’s signature, affordable solar-powered lighting system to the residents of Mubarak Village on the outskirts of Karachi. A baby step in what is all set to be a countrywide initiative to improve the civic amenities of Pakistan’s rural areas, this effort takes Halliday closer to his goal of providing a light source to one million people in approximately 200,000 homes by the end of 2005. Halliday’s lighting system is distinct in its use of white light emitting diodes (LEDs) that use a significantly smaller amount of energy to emit as much light as incandescent bulbs. Pairing one-watt LEDs with five-watt solar panels and an easily available battery, Halliday has devised an extremely affordable lighting system.
No wonder then that LUTW, which began life as a family outfit staffed by passionate amateurs – Halliday, his wife Jenny and his son Gregor – is now a global development initiative with a CEO and several directors overseeing hundreds of volunteer LUTW affiliates across the world.
Lollywood’s Bad Boy
By Usman S. Ghafoor
To say that Shan is difficult in the way Lollywood superstars tend to be is a gross understatement. Seen variously as humourless, evasive and even combative, Shan is a study in contradictions. The filmi world disapproves of his flighty attitude, self-assumed superiority and propensity for meddling in the directorial process. But Shan is not willing to change. Nor does he need to, given that he is charging – and getting – a million rupees per film, making him the highest paid actor in Lollywood history.
On the wrong side of 30 and well into his fifteenth year of film making, Shan is Lollywood’s sexy Hamlet, the poster boy for brooding sexuality. His cult status is comparable to Sultan Rahi’s whose gandasa-toting act he is often grilled for aping. Perhaps the kindest take on Shan is that he is a ‘complete hero’, Lollywood speak for a versatile actor. Either way, he remains the most-wanted man in an industry teeming with fragile
Walling In
By Huma Yusuf
Carted away to Britain circa 1805 by Lord Elgin, eulogised by John Keats and purchased by parliament, the marble sculptures came to rest in the British Museum, where they remain until today. On the other hand, the keen eye of a well-heeled patron of the arts will soon have Edwin Lord Weeks’ masterly canvas “An Open-air Restaurant, Lahore”, flown back to the walled city.
Mesmerised by thatched awnings, mounds of spices, donkeys and all things exotic, Weeks put down his easel to immortalise the marketplace thriving in the open plaza outside Lahore’s Wazir Khan Mosque during his second expedition to India in 1887. Two years later, he rendered the image on a monumentally-sized canvas in his Paris studio. A meticulously observed moment, candid and uncomplicated, “An Open-air Restaurant, Lahore”, owes its palpability to the in situ sketch made by Weeks.
Now, 117 years after it was first outlined, the painting will return to its birthplace courtesy an anonymous but clearly patriotic collector. The return is auspicious, not only because it marks the return of a cultural treasure that ranks as one of Weeks’ most notable and widely-exhibited paintings but also because its regard for the Wazir Khan Mosque and its quaint environs can help remind us of simpler times, now that the place is fast losing its old-world charm. Here’s upping the ante for Zeus & Co.