|||MAG||| August 09 - 15, 2008

Mind full to the brim with information gathered over the weekend and wallet bulging with notes (not currency) taken on all sorts of paper like petrol receipts, internal memos, electricity bill (got a shock?) and even on the reverse of visiting cards, it took quite a bit of thought and time deciding how to start this piece. The conventional or normal way would be simply to start with ‘yesterday’ come to ‘today’ and end with ‘tomorrow’ but being neither normal nor conventional, I could not become a bureaucrat - I became a writer as I am a believer in the golden words of wisdom of the most prolific writer in all known languages of the world, “Anonymous”. The ‘frameable’ words being: ‘In the abnormal world of today, anyone who is normal - is highly abnormal!’ So the unconventional, creative mood is set and we can now talk about Karachi, starting with today. Karachi is the biggest city of Pakistan. Some say its population is 1.5 million while others place it between 1.15 to 2.0 million. The teeming millions have to travel so the roads are congested with cars, taxis, rickshaws, buses, camel carts, donkey carts, motorbikes, cycles… you name it. People have to eat and dress up, so, from posh shiny malls and super stores, we see foot path vendors... Those who can’t find any sort of occupation indulge in mobile and purse snatching, thus the graph of street crimes escalates. Bank dacoities, arson, kidnap for ransom and the like are rampant. Atta, ghee and daal is almost out of the reach of Karachiites. Total chaos can be seen when you step out from your house or office. We could go on but let’s talk about pleasant things. “Pleasant was the past,” I was told by a very senior citizen. Others, too, opened many windows for me to have a glimpse of the Karachi That Was. Karachi was basically a fishing village. The business and trading side was in the hands of the Parsis, who were great philanthropists as well. The British developed it as a port for international trade of commodities including the slave trade. The spot between Qamar House and Old Custom House was the place where slaves from African countries were auctioned, I am told by Mr. M. Elahi, a senior gentleman hailing from one of the most prominent families of Pakistan. And then came independence. On 14 August, 1947, we became a free nation. To house the refugees, settlements like Pir Illahi Bux Colony, Nazimabad, Golimar and Lalukhet came into being. On the other side, posh areas like P.E.C.H.S., Muhammad Ali Society, Defence and Clifton were developing. As a close friend of mine, the former Consul General of Kuwait now back in his hometown mentioned, “Our forefathers came to study in Karachi. We had really close ties, both being fishing communities but there was good education in Karachi.” Karachi was growing at a steady pace and flourishing especially because it was made the capital by our great Quaid, Mohammed Ali Jinnah. It became a land of opportunity and people from all over Pakistan started pouring in. Within ten years of its coming into being, it was a booming city despite our neighbour’s prophecy from whom we had parted that we wouldn’t last a few months. “Yes, it was tough going. For the initial few months, Syed Maratab Ali, a well established business magnate of those times and a friend of our Quaid, paid our government officers’ and staffs’ salaries. Such were the people at that time. We survived, progressed and will be there always Insha’ Allah! By 1960, Karachi was in full bloom. We had trade and commerce, we had industrialized a land mark in full glory; the PIDC House flanked by two five star hotels. By this time Karachi was peopled by, along with our Urdu speaking brethren, Pashtuns, Baloch, Punjabis, Bengalis, Memons, Bohris, Parsis, Siraikis, Agha Khanis, and of course, Sindhis, the Goans, the Anglos and other minorities. All living like brothers in progress and prosperity. And there were foreigners, too, as all embassies and consulates were based here. Oh, what a time it was!” Mr. Elahi reminisces. And I, by this time, am tuned to his nostalgia and beginning to live in his past as he continues, “Karachi was a multi-cultural city. A cosmopolitan city. The sixties were the golden period of the whole world. The best of fashion, style, film, music as well as inventions, developments, industrial progress… peace and law and order prevailed. And most important was the camaraderie that was there. Karachi was called ‘Mohabaton ka Shehr – Gharib Nawaz Shehr’. This city accommodated one and all with open arms and an open mind. A popular tavern near PIDC was another landmark where local and foreign diners mingled. And for the lower middle class, there were restaurants like Café George and Kwality on Abdullah Haroon Road. The very thought of their bhuna ghost, peas pulao, fried fish and chocolate ice cream topped with a glob of whipped cream still tingles my taste buds. And you talk of Boat Basin and the likes.” When we broach the topic of entertainment, he says with a twinkle in his eyes, “Young man, you haven’t seen what we have seen. Do you know this city had over a dozen clubs and haunts? The entry by these clubs ranged from Rs. 5 to Rs. 22. And for 22 rupees, you could dine sumptuously at some local hotel, enjoying music by a band on the poolside. This was the high life but you could have a full meal like a plate of pulao for less than half a rupee or naan kabab within a rupee. Bun kebab was for 4 annas. On a full stomach, you could then go to see a movie for 10 annas to 2 rupees. Movie going was both an individual and family entertainment. Can you imagine doing that now? On the family side of a pleasant enjoyable evening was an after-dinner visit to PIDC pan shop and then to old Clifton where families were seen enjoying themselves not knowing what we know and fear today - insecurity. Families hired huts at Hawkes Bay and Sandspit to spend a day and a night. Some had their own. There used to be parties and you could see local and foreign families enjoying themselves. “Saddar was the hub of activity from where plied trams for different destination. For 10 or 15 paisas, you could board it anywhere and get down wherever you wanted. In other countries they have preserved and improved the tram system while we have done away with it. What a pity.” He goes on with his memories of Karachi wistfully. I get to know that people worked hard even then - day and night - thus Karachi was known as ‘the city that does not sleep’ and “roshnion ka shehr’. Yet they took time out to socialize. He tells me there was a coffee house culture. At these coffee houses, the intellectuals gathered. Students and student leaders like the late Rana Azhar Ali Khan, Ali Mukhtar Rizvi, Annu, Muggarm Moodi, poets, broadcasters, writers, journalists, government servants - a like minded cross section of our thinking society. There was a bond between the customers, owners and the waiters, who understood each other. Personalities like Jamiluddin Aali were to be found there as well as Ibn-e-Safi of Imran series fame. There was a musical fountain near the Governor House but the music has gone in the name of development. The benches are still near by on which families would come and sit for the peace and quiet of an evening. Same was the case with Frere Hall. Peace and tranquillity reigned. Our senior officers and bureaucrats lived like Pakistanis; they did not wear expensive branded suits. This writer’s late paternal uncle, Mujeeb ur Rehman, the deputy commissioner, had his clothes tailored at a local haberdashery in Zaibunnisa street (Elphee, as popularly known) like anybody else, though the only son of a millionaire of that time, having properties all over the country and educated in England. He drove his old family Buick. There was and is so much on the subject that one article just can’t contain it. On summing up, I feel that Karachi was what it was in the past because of its people. They had values and traditions. They were more human and humane. Money, though something, was not everything. There was mutual respect. The principle of live and let live was adhered to. Tolerance was in abundance. If there is still some left, I don’t know of it; it must be hoarded somewhere for a better price and more profits. The urge to seek knowledge was there. People met each other at mental and intellectual levels and not on social status and grade levels. It was an age of frequencies that matched. Karachi the city is the same though more developed, prosperous and still on the boom. Give was the password of the past. Take is the password today. So I conclude this piece by not saying anything about its tomorrow. That I leave to you.n