ONE doesn’t know which walls they had been kept behind until now but if the outcry is anything to go by then these girls had no business suddenly emerging in Purani Anarkali to create a controversy more unnecessary than others.

Theirs was a scripted act in advertisement of both cause and merchandise. Later on, an attempt was made by the sponsors to minus the cause from the equation. It was claimed that this was a mere attempt at selling a product which was not to be confused with any effort to break social taboos.

By that time though, many a thesis and a few dozen interpretations had been paraded in public, ranging from the mainstream to the fringe — blogs and other alternative media forums. Everyone had a reason to comment on the flash-mob experiment that starred a few undoubtedly brave women. Even amidst all kind of denials and admissions and rebuttals, a debate raged. The advertisement had served its stated and unstated — perhaps unintended? — purpose.

By the time the girls departed after their shocking experiment in the flash-mob technique— taken off the internet, along with their message — the venue of their choice had also come under close scrutiny for any marks of it being the exclusive abode of the prudes. That might not be the case.

The mysterious, unyielding huddles which operated informally in Purani Anarkali not too long ago continue to be a source of pride.

But why Anarkali, so named after a woman who according to a legend which adds richly to Lahore’s romance was buried in a wall for daring the authority of her time? The area’s history, at least its relatively recent past, makes it difficult to understand why anyone would choose it at a particular time to highlight an oppressive tendency in Lahore or in Pakistan in general.

Adjacent to the colleges is the bazaar which was for long the main retail market of the city. Nearby are places where the thinking and writing types would hold their sessions. These include the Pak Tea House, the Chinese Lunch Home and before that, the Nagina Bakery, etc. This has certainly been a more forward-looking part of the city, despite the fact that it gets its name from the infamous legend of the entombing of a woman by the Mughals.

Come to think of it, this is a fact that might have actually helped in its selection for the shooting of the package. The area, with all the usual men and suspects around, must have been subjected to detailed and close inspection before it was approved as fit for hosting which turned out to be quite a dangerous experiment. In which case all credit to Purani Anarkali. Well done.

The average onlooker apart, those who have been around long enough would agree that this particular part of ‘an increasingly conservative Lahore’ has been more likely to draw a bunch of Pakistanis desirous of speaking about their choices than most other parts of the country. Again, notwithstanding the collective verdict about the experiment, there are a number of groups and huddles previously active in the area that would be happy to note that their tradition based on free expression has been kept alive.

Old Anarkali has been a favourite and convenient haunt for students, say those of them looking to grab a quick affordable lunch before proceeding on other, if less exciting, business of the day. These students must have included men of all verities including the ones contrasting with those who would allow themselves to whisper something provocative or inane in the ear of a woman passing by.

Perhaps pleased by this latest occurrence around their old abandoned habitat would be a group of political activists. Purani Anarkali now routinely features in narratives about how it was and what it could have been. Some of these stories are bitter and speak of an individual’s disillusionment with those ‘who took us for a ride selling us dreams which could never have been realised — especially not with them at the helm’. Yet in so many accounts, mysterious, unyielding huddles or tharas which operated informally in Purani Anarkali in the not-too-distant past were and continue to be a source of pride.

These huddles indicated desire, movement and for those who are able to overcome the disappointment of failure a source of some satisfaction. At the gatherings here the more dramatic and vocal amongst these typical Anarkali dreamers taught their colleagues the merits of revolution and struggle.

The more suave would venture further and claim that not only did Anarkali and other such locales bring together change-seekers relevant in the parallel stream of the country’s history, the anti-thesis they brought to the fore actually contributed to the evolution of the Pakistani reality. The oft-cited argument is that, without these dissenters who had the courage to defy the odds by indulging in the forbidden from platforms such as those which existed at Purani Anarkali, things could have been much worse.

There may be a lot of debate about the gains and losses accruing from those formal or loose unions. There can be little doubt, however, that bound by their status as dissenters, the angry and those left out were able to create a small world of their own to live in, even if the utopia of their thoughts never materialised. That little world populated by those you could argue with, even if not everyone agreed on everything, was an end unto itself.

Common final destinations are perhaps harder to come by now than they were then. There is no escaping the need to create those small safe worlds where you can breathe easy and coexist with souls you have something in common with. The spaces have to be created and explored and exploited and discovered. Like the more tolerant environs of Purani Anarkali.

The writer is Dawn’s resident editor in Lahore.

Published in Dawn, September 16th, 2016