ISLAMABAD, Sept 22: At a dinner in Islamabad, the centre of attention is a plate of fresh olives placed on the living room table.
The olives have gotten everyone's attention because they are not the regular variety of pre-packed olives available in stores in Islamabad.
According to the host they are "real olives", gifted to him by his neighbour – who works for the Saudi Embassy.
A guest for whom gardening seems to be a pastime of sorts, informs that Islamabad is the ideal place to plant olives, the soil, the terrain, is similar to areas in the Mediterranean where olives are planted.
After the exchange of a few more appetite-provoking sentences, the olives are finally passed around for tasting. They have a vegetative taste, but the host insists that olive is a 'fruit.'
After the tasting session, a suspicious silence descends upon the gathering. Most Pakistani guests don’t go for second helpings; the host evincing the mood of his guests–as if talking to himself– says: "It is a taste that needs to be developed."
A bureaucrat, sitting in the gathering, who seems to have developed a taste for international travel, shares an anecdote from his latest trip to Bhutan: "I couldn’t do this in Thimphu (Capital of Bhutan)…"he says, drawing everyone's attention to a lit cigarette in his fingers.
Most guests don’t understand what the bureaucrat is trying to say. Reading the confused looks of his audience, he explains: "Smoking is a crime in Bhutan; one cannot smoke in the country."
How did he manage? Wonder most of the guests, considering that the bureaucrat appears to be a chain smoker.
He informs that he had to do it surreptitiously at night from his "Hotel room balcony."
The word 'hotel' gives impetus to the conversation and another guest asks: "How are the hotels in Bhutan?"
"I stayed in Taj hotel, one of the finest..."
"You mean the Taj…The Mumbai attacks Taj?" an inquisitive guest asks.
"Yes, the same chain of hotels…They have a branch in Thimpu as well," the bureaucrat nods his head.
And as a consequence, Mumbai attacks come under discussion and then for a short while the conversation just strays in different directions.A guest, dismayed by the overtly international slant of the conversation, interjects: "Forget Mumbai attacks…Islamabad is under attack, for the last few days I have been feeling like I was living in ancient times and my city was under attack by Mongol hordes," referring to the recent protests in Islamabad.
It is a timely intervention because before the tray of olives arrived; protests in Islamabad was a subject on everyone's lips.But the bureaucrat is relentless, and makes a conversational comeback and links his globetrotting, to protests he witnessed in Nepal – he had travelled to Bhutan via Nepal.
"Maoists had shut down Kathmandu (Capital of Nepal) the day I arrived…" he says lighting another cigarette.
For a second, 'Protests in Kathmandu' seem to strike the right chord with some of the guests, who think that their recent experiences with the protests in Islamabad might have something in common with Nepal.
But the bureaucrat disappoints and informs with a wry smile: "It was nothing like here. The whole city was under siege but the protest was hundred per cent peaceful. When my car approached a blockade, protesters immediately cleared the way. When I asked my driver the reason for their passive behaviour, he said: “The Maoists know that tourists are the backbone of the economy."
And then the most cynical guest in the gathering cuts into the conversation: "We talk about the writ of the state in Balochistan and Fata…but there is no writ of the state in Islamabad "Keep in mind when a protester breaks a street light or attacks a uniformed officer, he is actually attacking the federation of Pakistanadds another guest.
And then all of a sudden, the conversation shifts towards the 'role of the media', which has become a favourite topic in the drawing rooms of Islamabad, these days.
Considering that the biggest damage these protesters are doing is disrupting the life of working class people and media is quintessentially made up of working class people, then why has the media been so 'soft' towards violent protesters? A question that baffles everyone.
As more questions are raised and answers are less in the coming, the announcement "Dinner is served" comes as a timely diversion.
The dinner table is a lavish spread –just like the conversation – with local as well as international delicacies but what gets everyone attention is the roti (bread), which is whole wheat and one can tell from the texture that it was hand-grinded.
"Like the tourist is the backbone of Nepali economy…this is the backbone of our economy," announces one hungry guest, dexterously breaking a piece of bread.
"Same piece of bread you will find in a village hut in Pakistan that you find in this house. In a way this 'piece of bread' unites us all," observes another guest.
One guest, who had recently read Khalid Akhtar's travelogue on Sindh, informs: "For people of Tharparkar, wheat is a 'fruit'."
One guest finds the information odd but another guest concurs: "If olives can be a fruit for the Arabs and gastronomy French chefs can call tomato a fruit, then why can't wheat be a fruit for some Pakistanis?"
In any case, as the evening progresses, there is a consensus on the table that it doesn’t matter what ones views are on olives or tomatoes, the fact that the piece of bread on our table is the one thing that unites us all and is presently under threat because of the law and order situation in Pakistan, therefore "It's time to get hard with the violent protester."