The Karachi of the 1960s was, in modern-day parlance, a ‘happening’ city. Not too long after the incomparable Marlon Brando touched down in the Sindh capital and gave a typical Brandoesque interview suggesting he would make a film in Pakistan (for some reason, it never happened), three more individuals belonging to the glitzy world of Hollywood visited Karachi. Who were they? They were Edmund Grainger, Robert Hardy Andrews and Marshall Green of Universal International Studios. On July 9, 1965 the three held a press conference at Hotel Intercontinental and announced that Hollywood would produce a film in Pakistan starring none other than Rock Hudson and Peter O’Toole. (Whoever thought that Pakistan was always off-limits for the likes of Hudson and O’Toole, think again.) The shooting was supposed to take place next winter. They also claimed that the leading lady in the movie would be played by a Pakistani either from the showbiz industry or outside of it.

Robert Andrews, who was the writer of the proposed film, said the story centred on Khyber where ‘for centuries brave men belonging to different races had fought and died’. The project was being made as a tribute to the best and bravest of them. Well, as far as documented history goes, the project never saw the light of day. By the way, Robert Andrews wrote screenplays for more than 40 films, including The Cross of Lorraine and Salute to the Marines.

To be honest, in those days Karachi was pretty hip and trendy. There were quite a few reasons that a great many western glitterati were attracted to it. One reason was that the infrastructural facilities in the city (recreation spots, hotels etc), as per the aesthetic requirements of the ‘60s, were pretty good. Karachi airport, despite being small, was not too bad either. On July 10, the Chief of Civil Aviation and PIA, Air Vice-Marshal Nur Khan made a promise to journalists that a press room with telephones and other facilities would be opened at the airport. He said that the room in the re-orientated air terminal had been sanctioned. Yes, in the pre-Internet days, pen-pushers needed their separate space.

Ironically, in the pre-Internet days, Karachi’s auto-rickshaws had meters. On July 6, the city’s rickshaw drivers went on a massive strike to protest against the police check on ‘faulty’ meters. From the first week of the month, the traffic police had launched a drive against dodgy meters following increased public complaints. They had even impounded 50 rickshaws. So the drivers decided that it’s time to cool their engines off. But they didn’t go off the road just like that; they also put forward a demand, which was an increase of five paisa in auto fares (from 25 paisa per mile to 30 paisa). On July 8 it was reported that the city administration had rejected their demand. However, as it often happens, and since a considerable number of Karachiites have always commuted to work by rickshaw, the auto wallahs called off the strike once the authorities assured them that their demand would be ‘considered’. Apparently, it was more than considered. Fifty years later, we live in an era where people use cellular phones while traveling by rickshaws and yet the concept of meters, leave alone the faulty ones, has become alien to them.

Published in Dawn, July 6th, 2015

On a mobile phone? Get the Dawn Mobile App: Apple Store | Google Play