Highlights of the January 2005 issue
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Play it by ear, We sing, we dance, we make merry — deal with it
By Amber Rahim Shamsi
This is also Pakistan: some 52.5 million bright-eyed individuals, between the ages of 16 and 25, a heartthrob away from the sour cynicism that is our national idiosyncrasy. For now, though, they are wrapped in the rainbow-streaked bubble of youth when life is about today and love is disposable. Merely seven years ago, being young and restless was too subversive for emperor Nawaz Sharif. He banned their chief medium of expression – pop music – from state television, claiming that it did not reflect our culture. But it is our culture. We sing, we dance, we make merry — deal with it.
No matter how many times the state and all the shadowy forces around it have tried to squash the gloriousness of being young, it has oozed out of the cracks. And now that it has air to breathe, the culture of youth has mushroomed into an industry. Be it mobile phones, coffee, mints, bottled water, tea, soft drinks or ice-cream, the companies that make them all have their eye on the 16 to 25 age bracket.
Gender Gap
A.R.S.
The one element lacking in the world of pop music is women
In 25 years, Pakistani pop has managed to produce two divas worth their weight in sound, style and sex appeal: Nazia Hasan and Hadiqa Kiyani. This seems especially strange, given that the film and ghazal genres have produced female heavyweights such as Noor Jehan, Iqbal Bano and Malika Pukhraj.
But in the context of a country like Pakistan, where singing publicly is on the shady side of respectable, maybe the bias makes sense. After all, a pop singer doesn’t just need to plonk herself down in front of a middle-aged audience and impress with her vocal chords alone. She needs to entertain in every sense of the word. Industry insiders claim that aspiring female pop stars tend to fade away fast because of the men in their life: since when would a Pakistani man approve of his wife/daughter/sister/girlfriend swinging and swaying on TV and in front of frisky teenagers at live shows?
Baby I’m a Rocker
By Huma Yusuf
A few years ago, a young businessman met former Awaz vocalist Haroon at a party. “So, what do you do?” he asked the singer. “I’m a rock star,” replied the humble Haroon. “Oh, okay. And I’m an astronaut.
But jokes aside, what do you do for a living?”
Although Pakistani pop stars have managed to blow off our socks since they splashed onto the scene in the late 1970s, few have thought of them as superstars: fussy celebrities with the same clout and charisma as our cricketers and high-profile terrorists. Despite the soft drink commercials and local channel charts, our music makers have hovered in the shadows of celebrity, treading the fine line between icons and just knowns. But no more. Pakistani pop stars are the über-celebrities of this millennium, easily bigger than the best cricketers. They stare down at us from snappy billboards across the cities and pop on to our cable TV channels, plugging people, places, Pepsi and, once in a while, even pop. Hailed as cultural ambassadors, they travel to India and add a disco drive to diplomacy. And to keep things interesting, they have more makeovers than Madonna. Gossip about their sex lives, spats and substance abuse makes the rounds at parties and internet chat sites. And while they haven’t bashed up hotel rooms or gone into rehab as yet, the way our bands bicker and break up would put the Beatles to shame. And, damn, don’t they look good?
Just five years ago, pop music seemed to have popped. Until, music channels stepped up to save the day
By Amber Rahim Shamsi
“Pop music is a flash-in-the-pan industry”— Ghazanfar Ali,
By Intikhab Amir and Zulfiqar Ali
His constant refrain is, “I don’t give good interviews.” And that’s true in some ways. Getting media entrepreneur Ghazanfar Ali to talk is like telling Ali Azmat to close his mouth a little when he sings. But then, Ghazanfar is a businessman and a man of action: his “Music Channel Charts” and Indus Music – launched 12 years apart – have been responsible for giving pop music air to breathe. And that says more than words.
Q. What is your definition of pop music?
A. It’s popular music, as simple as that. It’s instantaneous, it works for a while, goes away and something new comes in its place. It doesn’t stay forever. It’s a flash-in-the-pan industry.
Q. If we are to say that pop music is a positive thing in this country, what has it done, what is it doing?
A. What do kids have in this country? Music is an outlet, it makes you feel good. Boys and girls sit at home, watching and listening to music on TV and the FM channels coming up. They listen to their own people, their own music, their own heroes and heroines. It’s a good thing for Pakistan that instead of just listening to Shah Rukh Khan or Amitabh’s songs, they are listening to their very own Ali Zafars and Fuzon. It’s all very positive: they have local icons and aspire to be musicians. I get a zillion phone calls every day from people saying that please run this video, it’s very good, [the musicians] sold their motorcycle for it. A whole revolution is going on.
VJ Next Door
By Sabina Qazi
As Anoushey and Noori make their way into the College of Business Management (CBM), a group of girls start to whisper excitedly: “Oh look, there’s Anoushey.” Clearly, the students are dying for a chance to say hello to their favourite video jockey (VJ). Clad in a T-shirt and jeans, with silky straight hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion, Anoushey is pretty enough. But her appeal has little to do with her looks. It’s all in the attitude. Always smiling and approachable, she seems at ease with everyone: “It doesn’t matter who they are or how they speak,” she says.
At 22, Anoushey’s level of stardom is rare indeed, especially for most girls in Pakistan. But her fame is not that of a goddess on a pedestal. On the contrary, Anoushey comes across as everyone’s friend on her music show. Granted, she may not be Pakistan’s first girl star to make it big but she has clearly made an impression on the public. Her fan following is immense: from nine-year-olds to 25-year-olds, from Sialkot to Sydney. True to her TV persona, Anoushey makes it a point to respond to as much fan mail as possible. “I remember writing letters to Trey, MTV’s “Most Wanted” VJ, hoping he would respond. Now when people mail me, I try to write back to them and the response I get after that is mind blowing,” she admits delightedly.
Notes from Under ground
By Ali Ahsan Halai
Where do we go from here? The mainstream music industry in Pakistan is a shameful corporate sell-out. And the fallback underground music scene is following in hot pursuit. Dismal barely begins to describe this situation.
There was a time, at least once in this country’s short pop-rock music history, when the lines between underground and mainstream music were a lot fuzzier. Or maybe the underground scene was just more above ground than it is today. Then, it was less about making money and more about making music. And the sounds were not tailored to suit any particular audience. Instead, the audience went where the mood suited them. Those days are far behind us, more than likely never to surface again. Today, the best you can hope for if you want to avoid the popalicious segment of Pakistani musicians is the one-off random concert that you just happen to hear about.
From Faakhir to Jal, artists are uploading their music on to the internet before they even cut an album. No wonder then that fans are turning to music websites to hear the hits as they happen. Here’s a list of the 50 most popular downloads of 2004.
But the reality was somewhat different. Most listeners did not rush out to buy Mizraab’s debut album right after watching the video but it did get the band a great deal of attention. And if any attention is good attention in showbiz, then Mizraab was, for a while, the most famous band in Pakistan. Within moments of its release, desi music forums erupted in the virtual version of a riot.
Backwater Beats
By Aurangzaib Khan
Meet the Pakistani musician, a curious creature like the listener he plays for. From a state-of-the-art digital studio in Karachi to a hujra at Katlang in rural Mardan, he could be anyone from a peasant to an engineer. In cities where anchors and DJs work the graveyard shift, weaving dreams for the jaded insomniac, he fiddles with cutting edge technology to create the cacophony of chatter and music that fills the night. In villages, he sings and claps to the eternal sounds of the land from which he hails. In the metropolis, he often finds himself in search of an identity. But in rural backwaters, he is seen celebrating his heritage. He may even be someone on a spiritual quest, a man who loses himself in rhythm to get closer to God. The fact is, music in Pakistan is a bitter-sweet symphony composed amidst class distinctions, ethnic differences and varying religious and cultural heritage. For really, at the end of the day, the music that fills your life is simply a matter of where you are.
Ethnic Makeover
A.K.
Karachi may have taken to Rahim Shah like grannies take to the paandaan but the Pathans are not pleased. Granted, they are an easily piqued lot, especially when it comes to showing disregard for the sacrosanct ideals of their ethnicity. Clearly, they are unhappy that Rahim Shah, a Pushto singer they hold in esteem, has sold out to rank commercialism. And, horror of horrors, he has ditched his proud language to belt out Punjabi numbers.
Still, some may argue that Rahim Shah’s transition from a Pushto singer of limited appeal to one with a national profile has popularised Pushto music. After all, it was singing Urdu versions of Pushto tappas that gave Rahim Shah his big break. But purist Pathans wrinkle their patrician noses at someone who will disown his language to further personal stakes.
Face to face
By Tapu Javeri
Variously known as hairdressers, make-up artists and image consultants, stylists know how to slap together glitter and gloss to create pure glam. Undaunted by dark circles and blasé about blemishes, they are the fashion industry’s damage control experts. Everything they touch turns to gold, or sex or sleaze, depending on how they see it. Untiringly, they churn out divas and demigods to splash across fashion magazines and strut down catwalks. By making metrosexuality their mantra, Pakistan’s top stylists have even managed to make pretty boys the new plaything of the millennium.
For keeping rank with none less than the Pygmalions and fairy godmothers of our fantasies, this year, the Herald turns the cameras back to the people who slave behind the scenes to bring us the beautiful.
off centre
By Zaffar Abbas
I have no hesitation in admitting that Musharraf’s stance concerning the protection of women’s rights, changing discriminatory laws targeting minorities or making Pakistan a modern and progressive Islamic state is impressive. But when I compare his promises to his actions on most fronts, I am instantly reminded of the ‘one step forward, two steps back’ trajectory. And it’s still continuing, the latest being the issue of reintroducing a column for religion in the new Pakistani passport.
Between the lines
By Idrees Bakhtiar
So what is it with the MMA? After helping the ruling party pass the controversial seventeenth amendment and endorsing the “unconstitutional” election of Musharraf as president, the religious alliance is pretending to have just realised that the general cheated on the uniform issue. The MMA is now trying to whip up public protest and will launch a second phase in the new year. But chances of its success remain grim because even though the alliance refuses to admit it, its credibility has touched an all-time low due to its policy of supporting the army at one point and opposing it at another.
Some MMA components backed General Ziaul Haq when he was brazenly wearing two hats, that of the president as well as that of army chief. If the rationale for their support then was that Soviet infidels had invaded Afghanistan and America needed the late dictator to organise a resistance, they should not have a problem this time around. After all, Pakistan once again has a uniformed president carrying out a new American agenda in Afghanistan. Incidentally, neither the MMA nor General Musharraf appears to have learnt any lessons from the past.
Newspeak
Ali Ahsan Halai
That same day, Aziz met with an Australian judge to whom he, according to another report in Dawn, reiterated “his government’s priority of reforming the police and judicial system to ensure cheaper and quicker justice to the common man.” All this meeting and speaking probably leaves Aziz with little time to read newspapers. But if he had picked one up, he may have noted a report on the arrest of Asif Baloch, chairman of the Baloch Student Organisation, shortly after he addressed a conference at the press club in Quetta on December 13. Baloch had just condemned police excesses during the arrest of hundreds of Baloch students from Balochistan University and Bolan Medical College as well as from colleges in Nushki, Turbat, Khuzdar, Mastung, Kalat and Nasirabad. As he walked out of the press club after his address, a police contingent waiting outside arrested him along with six other student leaders. When Mir Tahir Bizenjo, general secretary of the National Party, asked the police for an arrest warrant for Baloch, he was told that one was not required to detain the student leader. Maybe the police officer simply wasn’t aware that the prime minister was touting freedom of expression and police reform that very day.
Collateral damage
By Ayesha Tammy Haq
But such complications do exist. Often times, appearances defy us, particularly when couples are determined to keep a secret. But if we could read other people’s thoughts, we would be shocked at how little perception matches reality. When a gay man marries a heterosexual woman, whether she is aware of his sexual orientation or not, the couple’s outward appearance can be deceptive. On the surface, the two may seem perfect together but a completely different picture may lie below. How typical is it to be married but closeted? What is it that makes someone who is completely aware of his sexuality enter into marriage and more often than not find the arrangement distasteful and even a complete anathema?
Art of the Possible
By Aamer Ahmed Khan
In an environment where the law is but the whim of a dictator, anything is possible
As far as General Musharraf is concerned, the stage is set until 2007 and the parameters defining the extent to which party politics may go have been firmly laid down. Appearing before the nation in a televised address on December 30, the general dismissed the opposition’s demand regarding his uniform, arguing that he would be violating the constitution if he acceded to it. Such bizarre arguments are typical of military dictators, as is their belief in their own indispensability. Nor was General Musharraf’s decision on the uniform issue a surprise. The only question that did come up in the minds of those who have closely seen dictatorships playing themselves out in this part of the world centered on the viability of the political dispensation which the general is hoping will carry him through. After all, while every Pakistani dictator has sought to shore himself up on the basis of a custom-built political arrangement, none has managed to survive the collapse of a system thus sired. Can life be any different for General Musharraf?
Political analysts describe General Musharraf’s relations with the religious parties as highly complex. Senior politicians who have negotiated with the religious leadership on the general’s behalf say that his relations with the parties currently clubbed together under the Muttahida Majlis-e-Amal (MMA) banner have deteriorated steadily since the October 2002 elections. Always considered the army’s ‘B team’, the religious parties were expected to condone Pakistan’s volte-face on Afghanistan without much ado. However, not only did they refuse to do so, some amongst them, most notably the Jamaat-e-Islami, were found actively facilitating the movement of al-Qaeda members and sympathisers across Pakistan. This was apparently too much for General Musharraf, already smarting from the betrayal of some of his senior-most lieutenants in the army high command in the period leading up to the Taliban’s ouster.
Double Standards
By Azmat Abbas
Pakistan’s uniformed president General Pervez Musharraf has the reputation of being a straight-talking man. But sometimes he can be overly optimistic. “The writ of the government is being challenged. Pakistan has been made a soft state where the supremacy of the law is questioned. This situation cannot be tolerated any more. The question is, what is the correct path,” he asked in his address to the nation on January 12, 2002. The general went on to describe the “correct path” as he saw it, which is sadly quite different from how his subordinates would wish to run the affairs of the state.
Information gathered by the Herald suggests that certain quarters within the establishment continue to steadfastly support those who have directly challenged the writ of the government, made the country a “soft state”, forced it into political isolation and nearly earned it the status of a country spawning global terrorism. A glaring example of this is the release on December 17, 2004, of the Jamiatul Ansar chief Maulana Fazlur Rehman Khalil after just a few months of detention.
Maulana Khalil, whose militant outfit was rechristened following an American ban on the Harkatul Mujahideen (HuM), was detained by the law enforcing agencies for sending militants to Afghanistan – a charge that can be brought against almost any religious leader of the country without the fear of contradiction. Indeed, the HuM itself got its name following a 1997 US ban on another militant organisation known as the Harkatul Ansar (HuA). The HuA enjoyed strong links with sectarian outfits, especially the Sipah-e-Sahaba Pakistan (SSP) and Lashkar-e-Jhangvi (LJ), and played a key role in providing training facilities to the SSP and the LJ for carrying out terrorist attacks against rival sects across the country.
Mixed Signals
A.A.
Is the recent spate of killings of high-profile anti-Shia leaders and activists such as Mufti Nizamuddin Shamzai an indication that a resurgence of the Shia militancy may be on the cards? Some police officials acknowledge the threat but say that it is not likely to touch its previous high. During the 1990s, the now defunct Shia outfit Sipah-e-Mohammad Pakistan (SMP) took sectarian warfare to critical proportions, conducting tit-for-tat attacks on activists and sympathisers of rival organisations, particularly the Sipah-e-Sahaba Pakistan (SSP). But the Punjab’s Crime Investigation Department (CID) infiltrated or bought off the core circle of SMP leader Allama Ghulam Raza Naqvi, completely decimating the SMP. Naqvi was eventually arrested and is still behind bars.
The Plot Thickens
By M. Ilyas Khan
At 11 p.m. on the chilly night of December 5 last year, Omar Cheema crossed the boulevard in front of Islamabad’s G-8 Markaz and took the dirt-track along the road to walk home. The road was deceptively quiet, so by the time he became aware of the threat, it was too late. “I never expected even a drunk driver to veer so far to the left side of a road on which there was virtually no traffic,” he says. The white Cuore that came from behind hit Cheema, braking momentarily as he went flying. Then, just as he hit the ground, the car came back at him, crushed his left leg and sped away into the night. A month later, Cheema’s leg is in a cast and the doctors say it will be another two months before he can get back to the reporters’ desk at The Nation.
According to observers in Islamabad, there can be only one explanation for this ‘accident’: Cheema’s report about a mock-inspection exercise held at the Khan Research Laboratories (KRL), Pakistan’s main uranium enrichment plant at Kahuta. On the morning of December 5, Cheema had spoken to a number of officials at the KRL and the Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR) in order to confirm some bits of information. “I had to tell some of these people about the nature of the information I was seeking so that they could put me through to the right person. Perhaps, that gave me away,” he explains.
On December 6, when Cheema was lying broken legged on a hospital bed, The Nation carried his report about the “first-ever mock inspection” at the KRL, meant to impart on-site training to its staff on how to safeguard nuclear materials in the event of a probe by international chemical weapons inspectors. Both the ISPR and some other security agencies took unkindly to this report. Over the next few days, says Cheema, he received several “nasty” phone calls from either anonymous persons or those who gave fake names and ranks.
“Whoever ran Cheema over actually wanted to prevent him from pursuing his report any further, without knowing that the story had already been filed that evening,” says an Islamabad-based journalist. “While the identity of the attackers is impossible to ascertain, official quarters are piqued over the timing of Cheema’s report and the fact that it runs contrary to Pakistan’s national interest.”
The Sky Limit
By Faiza S. Issa
The year may be winding down but Pakistan’s property market is showing no such signs. For the third consecutive year, prices have increased, sky-rocketing in Karachi and Lahore and especially Islamabad. Dictated by the area’s geography and internal dynamics, the property market may be acquiring a characteristically different shape in each city. But in all three markets, prices are soaring, fuelling an unparalleled fervour in the property market and raising questions of genuineness and sustainability.
The property market in Pakistan has not boomed in isolation. Rather, it has accompanied a worldwide rise, stimulated by several factors, including interest rate dives to their lowest levels in four decades. But reasons specific to Pakistan have also played a major role. Among them, the influx of expatriate money into the country following the 9/11 attacks has been key. As a result of a global crack down on unofficial banking channels and increased vigilance over the finances of Muslims and South Asians, overseas Pakistanis remitted large sums back home. Once here, expatriate money found few profitable avenues for investment. The stock market and the real estate sector emerged as avenues of choice. But to those uncomfortable with the equities, this option has been less attractive.
Land on Fire
F.S.I.
During taizi, susceptible areas see intense activity that follows a certain trend. In Karachi’s DHA Phase VIII, for example, a buyer purchases a plot, puts down around 10 per cent as earnest money or bayana and is required to pay the remainder during a specified period, typically five weeks. Since the purchase of the plot shrinks the market, the buyer can resell the property for a higher price. The cycle continues, enabling each subsequent buyer to command a greater price. While each seller receives the bayana, the plot and the remainder of the money don’t officially exchange hands until several transactions take place and the property ends up with a buyer seeking to hold it for an extended period. In the process, the value of the land escalates in a short time frame, enabling speculators to reap tremendous profits while putting down only a percentage of the plot’s price.
In July this year, for example, a buyer bought a 2,000 square yard plot in DHA Phase VIII for 16.6 million rupees. Some days later, the plot resold for 18.5 million rupees, then for 19.5 million and within a month for 23 million rupees. With as many as 75 transfers occurring daily during taizi, compared to 25 to 30 during regular periods, it is easy to see how property value skyrockets during these periods.
Tricky Terrain
By M. Ilyas Khan
Despite his ostensibly strong position and bravado, the close of 2004 saw General Musharraf standing on shaky ground.
The year 2004 ended on more or less the same note as it started. In January, the air suddenly cleared for a rapprochement with India and the first Pakistan International Airlines flight landed at New Delhi’s Indira Gandhi Airport after months of military posturing and political stalemate. Later in December, the government of General Pervez Musharraf was seen attempting a breakthrough on the domestic front by releasing Asif Ali Zardari, husband of Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) chairperson Benazir Bhutto, after eight years of incarceration. Sandwiched between the two, however, was a range of developments on several fronts that make the future of the country look more bleak than it did after 9/11.
Owing to pressures exerted on Islamabad by a variety of sources, especially the Americans, Pakistan finally appears to have succumbed to the idea of a serious and meaningful dialogue with India. While reports from the Line of Control (LoC) in Kashmir still suggest some activity on the part of the mujahideen and their supporters in the Pakistani establishment, the free-for-all that prevailed in the area until 2002 is now history.
Willed Chaos?
From Shibil Siddiqi in Toronto
The November 2004 assault on the Iraqi city of Fallujah is instructive of the overall strategy of the US and UK occupation forces in Iraq. Planned as a massive ground attack to “break the back of the insurgency,” the siege was characterised by the same excesses as the rest of the occupation. Most notably, these included the overwhelming use of fire-power, insufficient distinction between enemy combatants and civilians, the planned destruction of civilian infrastructure, the barring of aid agencies from reaching hapless civilians and a complete absence of accounting for civilian casualties.
Despite this, the insurgency continues with running battles and air strikes on insurgents as recently as December 15. According to the US military, the insurgents seem to be getting more organised, audacious and deadly in their attacks and their ability to disrupt US supply and troop movement. As such, it is important to examine whether such military tactics are capable of bringing stability to Iraq or whether stability is even a primary objective.
Mingled Yarn
By Faiza S. Issa
To fully capitalise on the opportunities provided by the post-quota era, Pakistan needs to overcome a number of hurdles.
January 1 saw the lifting of quotas on international trade in textiles and clothing. Since 1974, trade in this arena had been governed by the Multi-fibre Agreement (MFA). Exempting textiles and clothing from the non-discriminatory spirit of the General Agreement on Trade and Tariffs (GATT), the MFA allowed signatory countries to restrict imports to prevent market disruptions in their own economies. To protect domestic industries, therefore, developed countries, including the US and the European Union (EU) nations, imposed quotas on textiles and clothing from developing countries.
In April 1994, however, the Agreement on Textiles and Clothing (ATC) was signed to phase out these restrictions in accordance with the principles of the World Trade Organisation (WTO), the successor to GATT. According to the ATC, incremental increases in quotas during a 10-year transition period culminated in an elimination of the system by December 31, 2004.
Hey, Big Spender
By Shayan Hazir
When Pinky is out shopping after her weekly coffee morning, motivated by the large Fendi billboard near her Zamzama residence, she is supporting the cause of brand consciousness, the obsession that became truly Pakistani in 2004. Why wait for summer holidays, she feels, when she can pick up the same stuff in Karachi, in rupees, without her beleaguered husband raising an eyebrow. The driver is then directed to Park Towers, home of the brand bartering Men’s Store, where Pinky eyes a 50,000-rupee pair of pink, sequined Dolce & Gabbana shoes only to realise she has no cash. (Oh ho, last night’s ball tickets.)
Luckily, the eager retailer gives her an option: “Madam, do you have a credit card?” A wry smile overcomes the botox as a diamond-studded hand reaches into a Gucci bag to produce a gold piece of plastic. The familiar swipe and beep is executed, indicating the completion of the transaction. Welcome to the world of infinite payment options, ensuring that if you cannot buy it today with your own money, the bank will buy it for you.
Indie Magic
By Zahra Chughtai
The striking rust-gold banner hinted at the energy bubbling inside the dull building of the Pakistan Institute for International Affairs where the fourth KaraFilm Festival was in progress. Despite the mandatory security search – always an unpleasant reality check – here was a chance to step out of the real world and enter into the lives of a host of strangers from across the globe for 10 days. In this melting pot of nearly 100 features, documentaries and short films, some 20 countries were represented from neighbouring regions such as India and Iran to places as far flung as Chile and Argentina. Kara has clearly come a long way in the last four years. “The first year Kara ran for three days and we screened about 34 films, mainly from Pakistan and India,” says festival director Hasan Zaidi. “But now, more and more people from different countries are sending their work to us.”
The Tao of Puri
By Huma Yusuf
Om Puri’s habits still betray his middle-class origins. In Karachi for the fourth KaraFilm Festival, he has transformed his hotel room into a serviceable little flat. A folded blanket props up a portable DVD player blaring Runa Laila’s shriller numbers while pieces of his son Ishaan’s jigsaw puzzle – a freebie saved up from the flight into Karachi – are strewn across the centre table. Pottering about the room barefoot, Puri looks tired. He rustles through a blue plastic shopper to retrieve a strip of tablets and when taking the medicine drinks water straight from the bottle. And it’s difficult not to notice that he’s still wearing the crumpled olive track pants and black Lacoste T-shirt that he donned for his appearance at the festival the previous evening.
In fact, nothing about the actor’s manner suggests that he is the undisputed hero of India’s parallel cinema. Despite having starred in over 140 films, Puri is surprised and excited to learn that Karachiites have seen Aakrosh. And while Puri agrees to have worked with some of South Asia’s greatest directors – including Satyajit Ray, Govind Nihalani, Shyam Benegal and Utpalendu Chakrabarti – he is most thrilled when someone remembers to address him by his childhood nickname Guddu.
The actor’s unassuming air defies the fact that long before Aishwariya Rai found a role in Gurinder Chadha’s Bride and Prejudice, Puri had filmigrated to appear in top-grossing British and American productions such as Gandhi, The Jewel in the Crown, City of Joy, My Son the Fanatic, East is East and The Mystic Masseur.
Slow Pitch
By Osman Samiuddin
His arrival as chairman of the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) at the close of 2003 was greeted with something resembling relief. Shaharyar Khan’s diplomatic skills, his “impossibly impeccable” record as manager of the Pakistan team that toured India in 1999 coupled with the absence of internal bickering and mud-slinging following the disastrous World Cup campaign in 2003 evoked that feeling as much as the fact that it was Tauqir Zia he was replacing. There were suggestions at the time that he was possibly too clean, even naïve, to head an organisation as machiavellian in character as the PCB. Much of those fears have not come true as Khan settles for a slower pace than he had initially envisaged.
When he took over, Khan’s ambitions were lofty. He wanted a constitution for the PCB, the first in over eight years, felt the need to professionalise the board and revitalise domestic cricket. As things stand, the board is still without a constitution as well as the kind of professional dispensation that is needed for better management of the game. Besides, things on the domestic cricket front have scarcely moved beyond the conceptual stage.
Regarding the PCB constitution, a commission has now been formed to deliberate and finalise a draft. But the constitution itself appears to be some time away. Khan explained in an interview after the Sri Lanka Test in Karachi last November that the delay was caused by the non-availability of commission members Justice Karamat Bhandari and defence secretary Zahid Hamid due to their other engagements.
Dribbling out
By Azmat Abbas & Mohammad Yaqoob
The twenty-sixth Champions Trophy held at Lahore’s National Hockey Stadium from December 4 to December 12 ended on an unexpected note. Few could imagine that underdogs Spain would beat the Netherlands, billed as the tournament favourites, by a margin no less than 4-2 and lift their first ever Champions Trophy gold. Pakistan finished third with bronze following a lacklustre performance that had only one redeeming factor: arch rival India played even worse.
By losing to the Spaniards, the Dutch also lost a chance to join Australia and Germany as the teams to have scored a hat trick by winning the event for three consecutive years. In 2002, they won the trophy in Germany and the following year on their home ground. In all, since the trophy’s institution by Pakistan in 1978, the Dutch have won the trophy seven times. The Australians have also won it seven times while the Germans are on top with eight wins. By comparison, Pakistan has won on only three occasions, the last time being way back in 1994.
“Asians aren’t the unchallenged kings of hockey anymore”— Paul Litjen
By Azmat Abbas & Mohammad Yaqoob
Q. What changes have occurred in modern hockey and has the sport benefited from them?
A. They only play on artificial turf nowadays. In my days, we used to play on grass. So I believe the players today are better skilled. Also, because of changes in the rules, the game has become much faster than it used to be. For me as a spectator, the game has also improved visually.
Q. What factors would you hold responsible for the decline of Pakistani and Indian hockey?
A. I think there is a lot of room to improve the physical condition of the [Pakistani and Indian] players. The Dutch, Germans and Australians are bigger in size and better in health and are therefore better suited for modern hockey. Then, the way they practice the game is also important. If they want to win now, they should practice and think as their predecessors did 20, 30 or 40 years ago. But just looking back is not enough. They also have to learn to play modern hockey for which they have to have greater access to artificial turf. The European players have matured in terms of the technical aspects of the game because of this advantage.
Destination Bollywood
By Shahrezad Samiuddin
As India and Pakistan hit it off and Pakistan’s big screen actors pack their bags for greener pastures across the border, Lollywood appears all set to be the first casualty of the dosti bandwagon. The allure of Bollywood is too tempting to resist. And it is one to which Pakistan’s film artists have regularly succumbed in the past. But whether it was Zeba and Mohammad Ali in Manoj Kumar’s embarrassing clinker Clerk, an expressionless Zeba Bakhtiar in Raj Kapoor’s Henna or Anita Ayub in some forgettable Dev Anand film, none of them seem to have got it right.
And going by the initial forays into Bollywood by Pakistani actor Moammar Rana, the prospects don’t seem very promising even today. In good old Bollywood tradition, Rana’s total contribution to the project was a bit part and a song appearance in Dobara which also starred Mahima Chaudhry, Jackie Shroff and Raveena Tandon, stars who are not quite A-list themselves.