AS one often has cause to point out, one of the problems with Pakistan is not that things are uniformly bleak, but that relatively speaking they remain on an even enough keel to lull us into a false sense of security.

Even as all the social wellbeing indicators plummet we keep getting glimpses of what Pakistan could be if only it managed to sort itself out.

The past few weeks in Karachi must count as amongst these. First there was the Sindh festival. While this came under criticism from some quarters for not attracting a cross-section of society in some of its events, the fact is that it was held and has the potential to become a lasting tradition. Such an event can only do the province and country good.

Spring festivities started in earnest with a literature festival, offering a respectable enough profile of invitees and well-attended by people across economic divides. The crush was so great that it was next to impossible to find parking space, let alone a chair.

There was a similar festival for children soon after, to which there were a large number of visitors amongst whom were parties from schools catering to various economic levels. Children piled out of buses, rickshaws, minivans and cars to browse through books, watch plays, create artwork and play games.

Soon after that came a food festival arranged on the lawns of Frere Hall. For many years people’s access to this venue was restricted because of security concerns raised by the presence of a foreign consulate nearby.

Now that this has shifted to another area, people have started trickling into these grounds again, attending in appreciable numbers the book bazaar that is periodically held there.

For the food festival, they came in droves. The scene was a happy one, as anything to do with food is bound to be in Pakistan: hundreds of people laughing and chatting in the bright sunlight, plates piled high with food and a play area for children in a separate enclosure.

Such was the merriment that some attendees pulled off their shoes to paddle in the initially switched-off fountain.

There were evenings in these weeks past where Karachiites, normally unable to access any pre-dinner entertainment other than a restaurant, were spoiled for choice.

At the moment, the National Academy of the Performing Arts is hosting a three-week international theatre festival, a first for a city that has traditionally not been able to keep pace with Lahore in terms of cultural activities.

The festival has attracted theatre groups from a handful of other countries, no mean achievement given Pakistan’s, particularly Karachi’s, security realities.

It’s not just Karachi. The Lahore Literature Festival, held on the charming grounds of the Alhamra Arts Complex, also attracted hundreds of people, and by many accounts put together more academically and intellectually sound panels.

By rights, the city should also have been basking in the afterglow of Basant, had the provincial government not have been idiotic enough to shut down the festivities that brought it fame, fortune and most importantly, gave people an opportunity to be out on the streets, having a good time, at a time when the city is at its most beautiful.

(Yes, the kite-string has caused much death and damage, but the answer to that lies in shutting down the manufacture and sale of that sort of string, not banning the flying of kites.)

All of this is very good, seemingly anachronistic, news in a country where the headlines depict an altogether grim reality where the discussion is not on who the upcoming author is but on the threat to the very existence of the state.

How can the apparent uptick in festivities be explained, given a context where logic dictates that gloom should prevail?

For one thing, it can be argued that this is evidence that those who wish to push Pakistan backwards are in a minority, that most people want and actively engage with a forward-oriented, progressive state and social fabric.

The organisers and attendees of all these festivals, all these thousands, were saying that this is what the face of the country should be.

It can also be viewed through the prism of the resilience shown by a liberal Pakistan in face of the wave of extremism poised to wash over us.

It constitutes, in fact, evidence of people actively making the choice to resist. That is reason to hope that the future could be better than it is today.

There is the converse argument, though, which I sincerely hope will prove untrue: that this is part of progressive Pakistan’s last hurrah.

The writer is a member of staff.

hajrahmumtaz@gmail.com