Concretising the garden city

WHAT is happening to Model Town and Mayo Gardens, the city’s two prime residential colonies, is not to be taken lightly. The genie of commercialisation is not only out of the bottle but it seems to have taken over our lives. In both cases big money is involved and that, as you know, can buy and sell not only land and plots but also one’s sense of civic ideals. Both the colonies date back to the city’s colonial past, which was the last time we built anything worth the name in this burgeoning metropolis, fast turning into a concrete jungle.

This is not to say that one is anti-development. The question is whether the route taken will leave us richer or poorer in terms of the quality of life enjoyed by citizens of Lahore, once known as the city of gardens. It wasn’t only the gardens encircling the old, walled city that earned Lahore that title; rather, it was a city of garden residential estates. This was particularly true for the colonial parts of town, starting from Upper Mall and adjacent areas, then along the canal and stretching all the way to the then outpost of posh urban living that was Model Town.

Ever taken an aerial view of Lahore on a clear day? The largest green patches visible from the sky are still along The Mall and then in Model Town, which now sits like an open, square-shaped, monopoly board with a wide, round green patch in the centre, bang in the middle of the expanded city, as it is laid out on a very plain surface. No other post-colonial residential colony offers so many open spaces. So those commercialising Model Town must also have flown over it to mark certain spots for sale.

Link Road is already in a mess. Rampant and unguarded commercialisation of the area in recent years has taken much of the romance away from the adjacent H and F blocks of Model Town. The congested shopping area, with plazas that offer little, if any, parking space, is a motorist’s nightmare for most of the day. You can well imagine the state of affairs there after a mega retail outlet opens its doors for business, as has been planned. The deal with an international super-store chain, one is told, was sealed at the “highest level”. Pray, would anyone name the person at whose behest this is being done?

An estimated 2,500 shoppers are expected to visit the super-store on a daily basis once it comes into being. The provision of supplies to the super-store is another story altogether. Where, you may ask, are the access roads in and around Model Town that could take on such a heavy load of traffic. But worry not, we are told, for such thoroughfares would be built to facilitate the people in and out of the vicinity. The realpolitiking involved will pave the way for widening the existing roads, chopping down more trees, over time driving residents out and levelling the ground for yet more commercialisation in the years ahead. You bet, that’s the entire game plan. Why else are the alternatives offered by a number of concerned residents to make money and keep the sanity of place intact falling on deaf ears?

And now to Mayo Gardens, where more housing units are planned to be built on the lawns of the spacious colonial-time bungalows. The railway authorities have assured the concerned citizens that no trees will be cut unnecessarily, and new ones will be planted in case any have to be uprooted. But all these are the right things to say while the fit to invest Mayo Gardens with more concrete is on. The flats built in the 1970-80s on Shalamar Link Road on the lawns of railway bungalows there have not solved the railways’ housing problems.

What evades logic is the ever-increasing number of railway officers at a time when the rail system itself is falling apart; take the recent series of embarrassing derailments and train collisions, for instance. Why are there more officers today in the PR than it can hold with grace, you may ask. Because the PR is a public-sector entity, it is only fair that someone should hold it accountable for its excesses, and what can possibly be termed wasteful expenditure of public funds. There’s certainly more money going to waste here than, say, on a wedding meal.

THERE is always something done to leave a bad taste in the mouth when it comes to travelling between India and Pakistan or vice versa. Last month it was Justice Rana Bhagwandas of the Supreme Court and his family, who were refused entry into Amritsar and turned back from the border, and this week our Pakistani babus at the (very) high commission in New Delhi refused visas to Indian theatre groups that wanted to come and perform in Lahore at the Henrik Ibsen theatre festival. All this, while relations between the two countries are steadily improving, as we were told by the foreign minister who happened to be in the city the other day.

Now there is also the talk of starting another bus service, linking Amritsar with Hasanabdal. This will be the third Sikh-centric service, with the Amritsar-Lahore and Amritsar-Nankana Sahib buses already running. One calls these Sikh-centric services because few, if any, Pakistanis will ever be their beneficiaries, given the Indian government’s ostensible determination not to allow Pakistanis to visit East Punjab. Try getting a visa for Amritsar or Chandigarh as a regular applicant, and you’ll find out how nearly impossible it is. Only the high and mighty Pakistanis with connections on the other side are allowed to set foot in Indian Punjab. Why this barring obsession, is anyone’s guess.

It is time Islamabad also initiated the spadework for some sort of pilgrim visas for Pakistanis wishing to visit Ajmer and other notable shrines in India. Why not a direct bus service between Lahore and Ajmer? The distance is comparable to that between Amritsar and Hasanabdal. But while the Indian officials push for addressing their citizens’ needs, there is little such luck the people have with their counterparts in the foreign ministry, this side of the border.—OBSERVER

Of dreams and prices

IT’S not just the fact that prices are rising in what the economists would regard as natural and normal, perhaps, but the fact that one gets cheated by scheming middlemen or clever businessmen is what really worries.     I wouldn’t like to refer to the prices of cars and the blackmarketing that has been going on for a scandalously long time now, mercifully on the decline following the import of cars. Who really cares if they are used!

We have all been talking of the subject of prices of late. Not just those of sugar, which for all the efforts made did not come down. We are going to get sugar from India now, among other items, which besides being a reflection of the bilateral ties, is also some sunshine. Sweet dreams, too!

One proposes to underline the theme of dreams with that of prices. There is, one suspects, a connection and this connectivity (in the language of cellular companies) is what is being referred to. Economists view prices coldly and objectively. For them prices are statistics, and they are justified and interpreted as required. For the common man prices fall within the realm of dreams or nightmares. For example, one is always dreaming of affordable prices. That’s what the advertising guys are also doing. Making it appear that you need what is being sold and that the price is affordable.   If that is so I quite understand the Karachiite who has been dreaming of building his house or buying an apartment, but finds himself troubled, and tormented by the rising prices of cement. Whatever the reason is, the prices of cement have risen and some amazing justifications have been given. This particular citizen was dismayed at the way cement prices have escalated, and he lamented, that he found that his savings had once again been rendered obsolete. Prices, therefore undo dreams, turn them into nightmares. In terms of day-to-day they virtually destroy domestic equilibrium.

And yet the lure. The lure of the dreams that advertisers sell and which make the common man believe that one day prices will be reasonable, affordable, and good life well within reach.

See what happened to the prices of daily use items. Take petrol and petroleum products first. While citizens dream that they would climb down one day, the reality is that they are not budging a cent. If anything, they are waiting to climb up further, says one anxious Karachiite

It was so depressing to hear from a Lyari resident about the reasons why he bought a cheaper model two-wheeler when his weather beaten scooter had all but collapsed. He said that his present minimum daily petrol cost was Rs50 a day from home to office and back. That’s it. Were he to buy the scooter that he needs, and take a loan for that capital cost he would not be able to afford the daily petrol bill of Rs100.

 And dreams of gold? Not just for marriages and festivities. But even as a way of saving and investing in the future. What of that? Of course there has been a global rise in the prices. On the local scene the prices have gone up to Rs12,000 per 10 grams of gold and almost Rs15,000 per tola.

There was another bitter comment from a Karachiite about the rising price of milk and tea, which he declared were hurting middle and lower middle class homes in a substantive way. By the way, one wonders what happened to the efforts and campaigns that were launched by the city government to convince milk sellers to lower prices. The cynics amongst us never believed that this could happen, and to substantiate their arguments they said that there were no examples to prove that prices had been lowered. Wherever it has happened it has been at the cost of quality.

Some of the best caustic comments have come from citizens on the subject of prices and salaries. Many of them have referred to the government fixed minimum wage of Rs3,000 a month. And then they have gone into the breakdown of expenses that are incurred. It is not just shameful, but even humiliating to simply hear the details. How can a family, with a single source of income even think of decent living in that wage?

Though rising prices are stereotyped themes, quite certainly the scenarios they unfold cause concern and mirror miseries of unimaginable proportions.

Of course, the big question is whether prices can be checked to make the common man’s life decent. Can the government do it alone? Or should there be consumer resistance? One frustrated Karachiite heard these familiar questions and options and became angry. He said that life for those at the top of the ladder remained unaffected all the time. They continued with their extravagant lifestyles and in fact the rich did not seem to realise that there are poor people around. There is poverty, both in the urban and the rural areas. Why can’t the wealthy people live simpler lives? “Why is this society projecting pomp and show, and the arrogance of the affluent all the time?” he asked in measured, resentful tone. He went onto talk of the widening gap between the rich and the poor and the fact that talk of the next budget has begun.

So once again not only is it budget time coming up, but also a new set of dreams from officialdom that will be marketed. The sceptical amongst us believe that most often these dreams are in reality nightmares for public. One perceptive colleague took a quick look at the remaining chunk of time in 2006, and said that there were at least two major occasions when the price hike would give to people tough time. The first will be before and after the budget, (federal and provincial) and the second in Ramazan and Eidul Fitr.

After all this is said and done, the question that confounds some of us relates to the shopping crowds and growing number of shopping plazas in this society. In this purchasing power? Is it the same people up and down the escalator of privilege and prosperity?