Of cemetery flowers and fruit

Almost all cemeteries in Karachi have hardly any space left, which is why some communities like the Delhiwalas and Memons have started taking their dead family members or relatives to the Shafiqpura and Bagh Nawabdeen cemeteries on the outskirts of Karachi. Though it takes anything between 45 and 60 minutes to drive there, it saves people from a lot of other hassles like worries about not getting a place to bury their dead.

Each of the graves at these cemeteries in Hub is provided ample space and is located at an exact distance from one another (well, give or take a few inches). However, what surprises most people who visit these cemeteries for the first time are the abundance of fruit trees and flowery shrubs, making the entire area extremely verdant.

The plants are watered several times a day, at least twice or even thrice during the entire length of the long, hot summer, so that they do not dry off. The water keeps the leaves and flowers lively and bright at all times.

Several varieties of fruit trees are grown here. These include cheeko, coconut, guava, papaya, lime and kakronda (which are used for making pickle and its bud or flower is used as an ingredient for preparing zarda).

Some denizens of Karachi start wondering as to why, of all places, fruit trees are being grown in cemeteries. But there is a valid reason for it.

Whenever a certain fruit is ripe it is sold in the open market to cover some of the maintenance cost of the cemetery. The money generated is recycled. This is not something exclusive to Karachi or to Pakistan. It has been the norm in various other countries for the last several centuries, including Turkey.

In the 16th century, during the reign of the Ottoman King, Suleyman Sultan, who had earned the nom de plume of Suleyman the Magnificent, the cemeteries and gardens of Süleymaniye were planted with fruit trees.

This was in part an economic matter, for flowers and fruit from the gardens of Süleymaniye were to be sold for the benefit of the foundation.

Another thing needs to be mentioned here. While one is headed towards the Hub cemeteries, one also comes across the Police Training Centre which covers an area of several acres. And what does one find inside the premises besides buildings? Well, a huge garden full of rows and rows of all kinds of flower and fruit trees. But what happens to the blooming flowers and ripe fruits? Do the flowers go into the homes of the officials concerned to decorate their wives and homes, and the fruits into their kitchens to finally turn up on their dinner tables? Or is all the money generated from selling these flowers and fruits recycled to benefit the maintenance of the centre? One truly wonders.

Of beggars and birds: There were several women and child beggars sitting in the shade of trees outside each iron-grilled cemetery gate. Whenever a visitor tried to enter or leave the cemetery, he was pestered no end by these beggars, especially by the young ones. Well these are professional beggars and trade passes on from generation to generation.

Be warned: if you give alms to one you will have to give alms to the rest of them as well. If you don’t, they will make life hell for you.

So Hub too has its fair share of beggars like Karachi.

Guests at these cemeteries also comprise several species of birds. Naturally, there are plenty of flowers containing honey and worms to entice these birds. Some birds witnessed on a recent trip included the ubiquitous mynah and the spirited sparrow. While exiting the cemetery, a solitary black-coloured stork with an orange beak and a white streak on his plume was witnessed sitting on a wall. It was about a foot in height.

However, being no ornithologist (or a bird-watcher) it was difficult to figure out to which particular species it belonged. It appeared magnificent in all its glory before flying off on having realized that it had been espied.

By the way, the earlier your visit, the better your chances of witnessing more species. Remember the adage: it is the early bird that gets the worm. Similarly, it is the early man who witnesses more varieties, if you get my drift.—Mohsin Maqbool Elahi

First shower of monsoon

Karachi, which receives little rain, pushes the panic button as soon as the monsoon season announces its arrival. On June 21, when the winds started to blow, clouds covered the sky I was on the street waiting for a bus. Needless to say, I had to wait for more than an hour to get in the bus that made its way to my area. I did think about rickshaw as an option but somehow the rickshawwalas mistook me for a woman with a large amount of extra cash. Well that was not all. A couple of not so amusing remarks by some men surely out to have fun in the rain left one rattled. Constant honking by buses and cars added to one’s woes.

It seemed that all the cars of the world had poured out on M.A. Jinnah Road. Chocked by vehicles, traffic remained stranded for hours on the road. If it hadn’t been for my cell phone through which all my friends and family members stayed in touch with me, my nerves would have given up. Apart from all this, all the men taking advantage of the situation were found freely occupying the women’s section of the bus, while the women commuters were forced to sit in a corner where rainwater running down from the bus’s roof seeped in. An hour or two of the rain left the civic infrastructure in tatters; I wonder what would happen if a downpour had continued for a week.—M.J.

City of emergency lights

Karachians brave power load-shedding every day and night in the sultry days of summer. The common folk, business community, students, children, housewives, patients and working people suffer alike.

Now it has become risky to travel at night on the city roads as we don’t know where we will fall prey to violent protests against prolonged power breakdowns. A friend recently came to Karachi first time. He hired a taxi at night from the airport and asked the driver, where are the lights in this City of Lights? The driver replied, “Light will be restored as soon as the night is over and dawn breaks.”

These frequent blackouts are a multi-dimensional dilemma affecting almost every sector in one way or the other. Our worries won’t end here even if the summer passes away with the arrival of monsoon rains. In summer, we experience load-shedding as the power demand is high. When the rains come, the weak distribution network of the KESC fails to work.

For the sake of power conservation, traders have been asked to close down their businesses after sunset while industrialists have been persuaded to suspend their working during nights. I fear sooner or later people may be appealed to migrate to other cities to save power in Karachi.—H.A.

Compiled by Syed Hassan Ali

Email: karachian@dawn.com