Faiz would have been a very proud father had he been alive today to see his daughters taking the art and media scene of Pakistan by storm

IT is very difficult in this world to be acknowledged and to create an identity on your own. It is even more difficult to achieve goals and objectives if you are an offspring of a famous personality. It requires persistent efforts to come up to the mark, as your first introduction always remains as the offspring of an illustrious parent. Faiz Ahmed Faiz would have been a very proud father had he been alive today to see his two daughters, Salima and Muneeza, taking the art and media scene of Pakistan by storm. The siblings outclass each other in their respective fields.

To create a niche in this society is a very difficult task, and for a person who had gone to bed hearing lullabies from Faiz, grown up in the company of poets, writers and painters, a person who has seen it all at a very young age, it makes it even harder. Associated with Pakistan Television as a producer, Muneeza Hashmi climbed the greasy pole to the top and became the first woman General Manager of a PTV station. She has recently taken charge as the first woman Director Programmes of PTV, which has made her shift to the Capital. Invited as a guest speaker at the Rotary Club Islamabad, she spoke on a topic very close to her heart — portrayal of women in media.

“The media,” said Muneeza, “is the reflection of the world we live in. It is not separate from what goes around it.” She remembered the 1960s as the decade of challenges, when we were finding our feet, trying out various combinations, mixing and matching. The ’70s she termed as a period of great political awakening during which seeds of democracy were being sown with the making of the constitution. “As a young mother, I remember I was a person — a professional. There were no men or women but people, individuals, persons of the same human race. She referred to the divide that came after 1977, during which “women were marginalized, compartmentalized, set aside.” Muneeza narrated the media-projected images of women that were not in conformity with the world outside. Her own reaction to this kind of suppression was “a mixture of submission and aggression” as she unwillingly submitted, but the fire kept burning.

Muneeza said that it has taken PTV two decades “to set the house in order” and today themes such as awareness about their legal rights, single motherhood, violence, reproductive health, topics that were tabooed, are frequent topics of discussion. She takes due credit for introducing the women’s programme, Khawateen Time and the efforts behind it — “weighing the consequences of each and every word that is transmitted, taking responsibility with dignity and despite all public, political pressures, moving forward inch by inch.”

In the evening, the club had its annual charternite with Farid Ayaz Al Hussaini, the talented sons of Munshi Raizuddin entertaining the qawwali-starved Islooites.
 

NEW ADDITION

After moving out from one rented house and into another since 1990 onwards when she started The Art Gallery in the diplomatic enclave of Islamabad, artist Mobina Zuberi and her partner, Zeeshan, have finally constructed a place of their own from where they “will not be made to move out.” The custom-made Khaas Gallery in F-6/3, the outcome of a persistent effort, is a welcome addition to the Capital’s art scene.

Most of the gallery owners in the Capital feel very insecure as they keep shunting from one place to another. “Although dental clinics, gyms and guesthouses are also commercial ventures, it’s only the art galleries that have to bear the brunt of the no-commercial-work-in-residential-area restriction,” she says grudgingly at the Capital Development Authority’s frequent notices served to gallery owners in residential areas. “There is no nuisance attached to a gallery. We are hardly three or four in the city, we should not be placed in the same bracket as schools or doctor’s offices.”

“A gallery is a labour of love, it cannot survive on its own. It is basically cultural activity for a city. You can’t make a living selling paintings alone, as one has to take care of the utility bills, printing and mailing of cards, besides staff payment and receptions. We found that we could not make ends meet with just the gallery. To ensure that it keeps going, we have art as well as craft, and we hope the latter will sell more and make it easier for us to survive,” says Zeeshan.

Although Islamabad is not a huge market like Karachi or Lahore, Mobina was very pleasantly surprised by the outcome of the two shows that she has held. After a break of two years, she finds the buyer market very upcoming and promising. More than half of her art buyers comprise the diplomatic community residing in the Capital. Now that less foreigners travel to Karachi, it has benefited the galleries in Islamabad.