Were we in the archaeological excavation camp at Banbhore or a Nazi internment hole? With no choice but to abide by the rules of discipline, we sat in our beds in the dim light of the lantern and passed time by listening to music and exchanging notes
AS fresh scholars ready to be groomed into career archaeologists, we reached Banbhore Archaeological Camp to undergo intensive training in archaeological excavations. The small Land Rover that brought us here from Karachi stopped in a tentage village. With a helping hand from the driver, I jumped out of its rear compartment in front of a heavily stuffed tent. The camp was set up along the north-western corner of a small lake looking very pleasing under the clear sky.
The line of the tents made an L-shape composition. Almost all the tents looked similar, except a few at the far sides. A couple of them at the extreme end on the western side were bigger in size while about three others on the far end of the northern side were quite small. One of the two larger tents was very conspicuous. It looked like a royal abode. It was further made distinct by earthen flowerpots at the front and sides. We were told that it was for the exclusive use of Dr F.A. Khan, who was then head of the Pakistan Archaeological Department and used to stay for long durations in the previous seasons of excavations, but now visited only periodically. Next to it was a large though simple tent meant to be used for conferences, study or teaching.
The very first person we were introduced to in the camp was an impressive personality sporting a smart moustache with sharp twirls on both ends. He was Ghulam Sarwar, the camp supervisor and virtual commander of the logistics. He was also responsible for running the officers’ mess, which promptly served the archaeologists and scholars with the necessary meals and fixed tea breaks against monthly billing. There were lots of people in the camp. They were daily labourers, we were told, who had assembled after a week’s labour to get paghaar or the remuneration for their services rendered. Soon, a rather sissy-looking boy came out from a tent and was introduced to us as Niaz Rasool, a direct appointee against the post of Museum Assistant in the National Museum of Pakistan, Karachi. He was working with the archaeological camp for the last one month and was with the background of General History, having done his M.A. from the Karachi University in, perhaps, 1960.
Later, I came to know that he hailed from Lucknow, India, and was the true personification of the proverbial Lucknavi youth, with tender posture and delicate mannerism. He was so soft-spoken that he soon became the favourite of all whom he came in contact with.
Then we were taken to a man who stood like a royal staff in front of one of the tents, clearly expecting the new internees being brought to his presence. He was Muhammad Rafique Mughal, but wrote his name as M.R. Mughal, and was commonly addressed as Mughal sahib. He was the field officer holding the charge of the camp and excavations. He was a tall, dark man with a strange aura of arrogance. He was still wearing a shabby shirt and equally out-of-date pair of trousers. There was no welcoming sign in his handshake with equally artificial smile. He seemed, though, to emit warmth when he met Gulzar, the other scholar, who had come with me. They were old buddies. With me, he did not seem very comfortable. Soon after, he had to ‘preside over’ the distribution of wages to the labourers and then go to Karachi by the same Land Rover which had brought us here.
There was also a young lad, Hasan Shakir, who told us that he was the photographer of the exploration branch and worked ‘full-time’ at the camp. He was an amicable fellow with dishevelled hair falling on his forehead from where he cleared them repeatedly. Among the others I met were the surveyor, Siddiqui, and Zaidi, the pottery recorder.
It was a weekend as the camp broke once a week on Friday though the government offices closed on Sundays, being the one weekly off. The Land Rover, on its return journey, thus provided an opportunity of free ride to Karachi to those desirous of going out on weekends and could get a space after accommodating, in perfect order, officers and scholars/senior subordinates in the officer-cadre.
In an hour or so, all the rituals seemed to have been completed as we could see the labour force dissipating into thin air. Mughal and Niaz, with some others, had climbed into the vehicle which immediately sped away. There was now dead silence, with only the logistics personnel and we two scholars left in the godforsaken place.
Gulzar and I were allotted one tent, the fifth from Dr Khan’s. Mughal was in the third and Niaz occupied the fourth one. Two of the tents on the other side of ours were still vacant as was the one next to Mughal’s — the latter meant for the use of the in-charge of the excavations, Harunur Rashid, whenever he would visit the site. Behind the line of tents on the western side was a row of two or three sheds with their roofs put up with corrugated sheets. These sheds were at a high level of plain, stood on hard rocky ground with open space divided into many squares by putting up white-washed stones. We were told that the sheds were the antiquity stores while the space with squares meant to study pottery finds sorted according to the excavation-grid and layers from which they came. With no background of archaeology, at least for me it was mostly Greek. Gulzar had already assumed the charge of ‘big brother’ and tried all the more to impress me with his knowledge.
It was already late afternoon and I was quite tired after a very long day. I thought it better to loosen myself up a bit and after having a cup of hot tea, stretch my body. The tent was very small, leaving hardly any space to move after those two charpoys, bedsteads, along each of the longer sides of it. An attendant came promptly to open our bedrolls and make our beds. He also told us that the backspace of the tent had necessary buckets of water should we like to bathe or wash hands and faces.
Although I had stayed for several times in tents, and in much smaller ones during my earlier adventurous sojourns, this time I was not at all comfortable. Perhaps the things unfolding before me, other than the adventure element, were the least I had expected after having done my M.A. from the Punjab University and studying at the prestigious Government College, Lahore. I think I was disillusioned with the bureaucratic attitude of most of the officers in an otherwise research department. Or was it that my expectations were too high of the highly learned and ‘educated’ officers working in the department? But the cold and impersonal welcome offered by the local camp in-charge was enough to spell out the atmosphere I should be expecting in the coming days, or maybe months.
The sun was setting when we came out of our tent. It had turned very pleasant, though the wind was strong. It was not necessary to put on heavy woollies, so I decided to have my jacket instead. Gulzar suggested a walk over the site of Banbhore — a large mound of considerable dimensions and height. Ghulam Sarwar, however advised not to embark on such an adventure as it could be dangerous. He told us that lots of snakes came out of their holes after dusk in such pleasant weather. With no remedy or medicine available in the camp for snake-bite, it could be life threatening. On our query, he further told us that it was also not uncommon to find and kill snakes in the camp, nay right inside the tents. It was, therefore, always advisable to carry a torch and even see with its light on the tent floor before putting our feet down. Gulzar was bolder of the two of us, or maybe he wanted to show off his knowledge of the archeological site. He insisted on such an excursion even if we had to carry our torches with us, as it was a moonless night.
In that mild twilight, the site seemed all the more mysterious. A blanket of silence enveloped it from all sides. The approach to the site was well-marked by whitewashed stone-pieces on either side. The same type of well-defined path was provided to access different areas of excavations on or along the mound.
There seemed to be some remains of houses on our left immediately after we had scaled the height of the mound. Further onwards, we saw an area of considerable dimensions having been excavated down to about one or one-and-a-half metres. With its flat stones, it looked like some sort of floor of a large building. Even in the absence of any guide we could safely conclude its being the mosque about which we had heard so much in Karachi as being perhaps the earliest in the whole of the subcontinent.
It was already dark and I did not find much fun in pursuing the adventure further. As we were returning to camp, we saw a snake coiled on one side of the path under some boulders. We had not thought about taking along a staff with which to kill a snake. We tried to stay away from it as far as possible, just then we saw still another snake slithering towards another stone. We thought that we were trapped, but somehow we made it back in one piece and thanked Allah. It discouraged us from taking any more outings on foot after dark.
Dinner was a little late because of the weekend. So we thought it a good idea to put our odd-looking folding wooden chairs in front of our tent and enjoy a cup of tea and smoke — and listen to Western music on the transistor radio. We were, however, told that it was not customary to use the front area of the tents in any such fashion. Tea or meals could only be taken in the tent meant for the purpose. Were we in an archaeological excavation camp or a Nazi internment hole, I thought to myself. We had no choice but to abide by the rules of discipline. We sat in our beds and in the dim light of the kerosene lantern, passed time by listening to music and exchanging notes between ourselves.
