In the early 1960s, Islamabad’s postal address (not known to many) required adding a line ‘near Rawalpindi’ on the envelope to make sure the post reached the right place. As the years went by, the city blossomed and bloomed in length and width, with great efforts put in by the Capital Development Authority.
Bastey Bastey Basti Hai is an interesting book that narrates tales of the initial days of the Capital’s inception. It describes the elementary phases of its establishment — from draft map to its present appearance on land. The writer, Rashida Alvi, takes the reader through a journey of the past 40-plus years of the city’s development and the story of its transformation from barren land into a lived-in city.
“Cities eventually get absorbed in a person’s life and thus respectfully treated because many feelings and memories are affiliated to them,” chairman of the Pakistan Academy of Letters and host of the evening, Iftikhar Arif, said while sharing his experience of living in Islamabad which, he says, is “a kind city” where he has received “love and affection.”
Comparing Islamabad with people, one of the speakers said, “Cities are just like people. Some cities are attractive enough to be visited more often, which is just like wishing to meet adorable people again and again.” Although cities and people have been the favourite theme of writers and poets, a city is also remembered on account of the eminent people buried in it. The few names that come to mind in this regard include Josh, Parveen Shakir, Qudratullah Shahab, Ahsan Ali Khan, Maulana Kauser Niazi and Altaf Gauhar.
INDIAN INTELLECTUALS
Aaj key naam; Aur aaj key gham ke naam...
These beautiful verses were written by Faiz Ahmed Faiz and narrated by Agha Nasir in front of a literary glitterati. But that was not all; Afshin, a new entrant, was the icing on the cake with her sweet and melodious voice, spellbinding the crowd. The narration created such an impact that one could feel the lull before the arrival of the storm. And a storm indeed it was, for getting together Indian intellectuals from all over Hindustan was nothing less than causing ripples in still waters.
The literary glitterati of South Asian poets and writers had gathered to talk of peace in both the countries, and as many as 10 Indian writers and poets had crossed the border to be part of this peace initiative. Pen and Peace, as the conference was titled, was organized by the Hawwa Foundation, Action Aid Pakistan and Foundation of Saarc Writers.
The causally dressed, down-to-earth kalam kars of Hindustan did not demand any citations, but gave interesting introductions through their works. For a few, it was a homecoming. Anxiety and desperation writ large of poetess Taran Kaur Gujral’s face as she wanted to go and see her ancestral home that they had left behind some 65 years ago. But she could not do so as the government had allowed her to travel on the long journey from Pakistan to India, but permission to make the short journey to Gujar Khan was withheld. It was like taking a child to a carnival but not allowing her to enjoy the rides!
It was not only Karan. Dr Saeeda Hameed, a descendent of Altaf Hussain Hali, also has her roots in Pakistan. Manohar Shyam Joshi, known for his famous television serial Buniyaad on Partition, poetess Jilani Bano and Dr Jagtaar Singh were also part of the team led by writer and poetess, Ajeet Kaur, the Indian version of Kishwer Naheed.
The Pakistani side was equally impressive with Fehmida Riaz who recited her latest poem, Teesra Rasta, and the elegant Zehra Nigah, clad in a silk sari and a shahtoosh shawl, Mushtaq Ahmed Yousfi, who led the proceedings and, of course, the presence of the literary glitterati comprising Munno Bhai, Iftikhar Arif, Intezar Hussain, Shabnum Shakil, Sarmad Sehbai, Khalid Hassan and Zia Jallundhri. Although one could feel the Sarkari blessing missing on the occasion, no one felt or said anything.
Umpteenth phone calls, numerous letters and scores of personal favours went into planning this cultural extravaganza, which ranged from Fasih’s dance performance to Uzma Gilani’s Manto recital; Javed Niazi’s Heer along with numerous lunches and dinners at Burban, Daman-i-Koh and Food Street. Says Kishwer Naheed, “Every day there were new problems. Just a one-line notification that the delegation has to cross the border on foot took seven days to be inducted. During this time, my blood pressure varied from 180 to 85.” Finally, Kishwer surrendered to her bout of flu the moment she bid farewell to her guests at the Wagah Border.
In the early 1960s, Islamabad’s postal address (not known to many) required adding a line ‘near Rawalpindi’ on the envelope to make sure the post reached the right place. As the years went by, the city blossomed and bloomed in length and width, with great efforts put in by the Capital Development Authority.
