The scheduled time for the prayer was 6:00pm. The clock was ticking. Close to a hundred people were expected to turn up at the temple for Holi celebrations. An otherwise festive occasion, the Hindu community residing in Rawalpindi is keeping their festivities within the walls of the temple.

The Hindu temple does not make obvious statement about its presence. While being directed towards it, several locals were not even aware of its existence. The two-storey block is nestled in the busy Saddar Bazaar. In a narrow street, fairy lights garnished on a tree giving shade to the building signaled that something was happening. Security check posts were set up on both sides of the street, hawking movements of people entering and leaving.

While people were pouring in the temple for prayer, 12-year-old Rohit Kashap was playing tag with his friend Vikram Kumar. Grabbing Kumar by the corner of his T-shirt, Kashap asked, “Have you seen the police outside? Do you know what happened?”

Kumar, with a concerned expression replied, “Yes, my father told me what happened to the Larkana temple.”

The Hindu Dharamshala in Larkana was set on fire a night before. Security was beefed up for the Holi event at the Krishna Temple in Rawalpindi. Police official Jawad Anwar, the security in charge of the area, told The Express Tribune that a total of 25 policemen had been deployed around the temple. The shutters of shops neighboring the temple were pulled down ahead of time and Special Forces were also deployed on the rooftop for extra security.

While the situation outside was intense, the bright lights reflecting against the polished marble floor were dazzling a different mood. Multicolour fairy lights, flags, and flashy streamers stretched across the roof and walls, adding their own character. Anyone walking in went straight ahead to gently tap the bell hanging from the ceiling before they preceded a few steps closer for prayer. Raanjhan from Sindh was busy fixing a steel container that was adorned with coconut, waiting to be set on fire.

Draped in embellished saris with their bindis intact, women were ready for prayer and celebrations. As soon as the sound check was working, a microphone was placed in the middle of women that sat in a circle in the corner of the room. One woman confidently played the dhol while others recited hymns in chorus.

Jai Ram has been the caretaker of the Krishna temple for the past five years. Ram respectfully greeted the women, and then returned to sit with the men and reassure them that they were secure in the temple. Ram said that over recent years, more Hindus have migrated to this part of the country. He said that while they are celebrating the festival, they are also maintaining a low profile. “We are supported by the people who live in this area,” he said.

“People personal grudges should not take out their anger on holy places,” said Kavita Arora, a housewife who had come to celebrate. After the prayers, in a conservative manner, many just dabbed moderate amount of coloured powder on each other’s cheeks to welcome spring.

Jagmohan Kumar Arora, caretaker of Krishna Hindu temple and a committee member of the Pakistan Hindu Sikh Social Welfare Council, said that the event was being kept low key due to security concerns.

Published in The Express Tribune, March 17^th, 2014. 

The gathering of Christian community accompanied by members of the civil society uplifted spirits of those wanting to celebrate the day.

School children had gotten three days to prepare their presentations. The thumping of the feet during their dance on patriotic songs was louder than the music volume that was tuned down to maintain the decorum.

Dressed in traditional attire, children danced to the tunes from different provinces. Singing with smiles, they depicted a sense of equality that they wish to achieve as minorities in Pakistan.

Prayers and hymns by the church choir presented a message of peace and unity in society.

“Pakistan is our home. If our homes are safe, then we are safe”, said priest Michael Rehmat of the church.

Recalling contributions and sacrifices of minorities for the country, Rehmat said Pakistanis should know their responsibilities before they make a hue and cry about their rights.

He said that the Christian community was vulnerable and facing discrimination at various levels. While confronted with challenges, since the independence, Christians have contributed immensely to all sectors such as armed forces, social work, health and education. They have also managed to shelter orphans and raise them to become responsible citizens, he said.

Rehmat urged the government to focus on the rights of minorities and facilitate them to live with honour.

The representation of minorities in the parliament was not benefiting the community at large. “We feel that the seats given in the parliament are not justified. The way they [representatives] get there is also unacceptable,” he said.

With a grim expression, he said the city administration had announced to launch an operation to demolish slums of the capital- where majority of the dwellers are Christians.

The government had not made sufficient arrangements to provide alternative facility to the slum dwellers. “We as a community are financially weak, the government has to make schemes to provide alternative livelihood to those that will be suffering.”

“We pray for the day that there is no forced conversion and forced marriages,” said Tahira Abdullah, social activist while addressing the participants.

Abdullah said the division among the people on the basis of faith, language, creed and cast was a tragedy. The government should take steps to ensure equality and social justice to all citizens. “The white portion on the national flag deserves to be represented with pride,” she commented.

Published in The Express Tribune, March 24^th, 2014.

Virtuoso Faiz Ali Qawwal, who is considered a successor to the late maestro Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, and his accompanying group of qawwals and instrument players enlivened the atmosphere with their high-pitched voices punctuated by rapturous clapping and intense notes of tabla and harmonium.

The ensemble of young men clad in bright orange kurtas took turns or worked in unison, each bringing out unique elements of proper inflection to support the soloist Faiz who emanated the aura of a seasoned maestro.

Trained with Ustad Ghulam Shabbir Khan and Ustad Ghulam Farid Qawwal of Sham Churasi Gharana and qawwali stylists Muhammad Ali Faridi and Abdur Rahim Faridi Qawwal, Faiz started his own group in 1978 following the doaba style from east Punjab. He has so far performed in over 145 concerts all over Europe, North Africa, South East and Far East Asia.

In verbal salutation to God, the qawwals opened the show with “Qaul Hamd”, praising His all-encompassing qualities and traits. Starting off at a slow pace, the rhythm picked up gradually and reached a crescendo with a resounding chorus.

The heartening kaafi, narrating the folk romance of Heer-Ranjha, where Heer sings at her wedding, “Ranhey yar vallon, Mukh kivain morran”(how can I turn away from my friend, Ranjha?) was depressing yet powerful in its tone and meaning. The loss of love, the pain of departure and the longing to stay rooted came full circle with the piece taken from the poetry of Bulleh Shah.

“Mera piya ghar aya” (my love has come home) was an electrifying, emotional celebration of reunion with the beloved, with many in the audience singing along or rocking to the beat.

Nusrat’s composition of the love song “Ankhiyan udeekdian dil wajan marda” – My eyes are seeking in my beloved, my heart is crying out – was a nostalgic trip down memory lane, reminiscent of the legend’s glowing career.

The night ended with back-to-back performances of “Manqabat,” a poem eugolising the glory of Hazrat Ali (RA) and “Dam Mast Qalandar Mast Mast,” was another lively tribute to Nusrat.

The audience responded with near palpable cheer, resonating with the rhythm. “The tabla was amazing,” said Adil Farooq, an audience-member at the end of the performance. “He (Faiz) was good and he has a good ensemble, with the choice of songs he did not go too deep into the performance as he could have. He kept it skin-deep so it was an overall enjoyable,” he added.

The musical evening was organised by the Asian Study Group.

Published in The Express Tribune, March 29^th, 2014.

The collection of Islamic art unveils the artist’s deep association with the Indian subcontinent’s history, illustrated through the usage of a rich Eastern palette and grandiose textures.

“Every painting has a story, and all stories are there to be understood,” said Akhtar, who has an academic background in miniature art.

Breaking away from the monotony of landscape or portrait, she not only weaves picturesque narratives, but also linkages between the historical and modern times.

“I always wanted a flowing, fast way of expression — simultaneously, I found communication between the past and the present necessary,” she added.

Akhtar recalls being mesmerised by specimens of old paintings and Mughal buildings in a three-month course on restoring the Lahore Fort back in the 80’s.

“The resonance was haunting, I could really hear the sound of ghungroos (anklet with bells), the clamour of horse hooves, the elephants crossing the wooden bridges and the ladies in their darbars,” she said. “This is a revival of Islamic art of sorts, of retelling silent stories which are now hidden in books no one reads due to the onset of the computer age.”

While the current series is a continuation of the artist’s signature style of painting Eastern subjects in modern compositions, four of the recent pieces pay homage to a long-lost tradition.

“It was at a museum that I came across specimens of a game called Parcheesi, which women used to play in times past. It is like a cross between modern-day board games such as chess and Ludo. Noor Jehan was a patron of the game,” said Akhtar, explaining the inspiration behind paintings which unravel like fancy puzzles.

Impressions of the withered walls and crumbling structures of Mughal buildings are incorporated into the multilayered surfaces of the paintings, speaking of the neglect that art is faced with.

“My heart bleeds at the sight,” said Akhtar, who has been visiting the fort on exploration studies and with friends, only to find that the site is devoid of any real restoration. “Rather than restoring, they are reconstructing or rebuilding, which will not curb the decay,” she added.

Now, however, poor substitutes such as distemper instead of lime water are being used, posing a threat to the old structures. She feels that India has progressed far beyond us in such upkeep, and although the National College of the Arts and the Punjab University Department of Art and Design have taken up “great” initiatives, more work needs to be done to this end.

“The only way to remain associated with our heritage, with our claim to the actual art of Pakistan which is now gone or is locked inside books, is to bring them up on paper and canvas, making it visible to the common man,” added Akhtar.

Commenting on the collection, the gallery curator Nageen Hyat said the series affirm Akhtar’s contribution to the legacy of Islamic art while retaining in its essence a symbol of modernity and rich aesthetics. “The narratives are familiar, and the collection depicts an abstract juxtaposition of patterns and storytelling, which is symbolic,” added Hyat.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 3^rd, 2014.

There is a dip at some point after which the land and the road will flatten.

This lyrical address description serves as something of a roadmap while one traverses the winding road that leads to the residence of the Pakistani-Polish poet Ilona Yusuf in Bani Gala, Islamabad. Driving past the foliage-lined lanes on a crisp spring afternoon, one wonders if the scenic suburb offers some inspiration to Yusuf’s creative process.

Traces of Yusuf’s writing inspiration can be spotted all over her workspace. Wooden bookcases housing a collection of hard covers and paperbacks on literature and poetry line the walls. There is a printing press, some sheets and linocuts in a corner while another wall showcases two pieces of altered darkroom photos and an abstract painting. The setting speaks volumes of Yusuf’s two primary passions, writing and beautifying spaces, which she indulges in with her small interiors business.

“Most of my writing is done in short spurts,” says the soft-spoken poet who started writing at the age of 10. “I’ve got things floating around in my head but lines would usually come to me at night or early morning and I’d save them up in the night and write them early morning.” Even though she has been writing since a young age, Yusuf recalls the lack of forums in the country for budding writers like herself at the time. “When I was growing up there were writing competitions at the British Council and the American Centre but when I got married, which was during Zia’s regime, there was nothing.” The creative lull in Yusuf’s life was prolonged after the birth of her children as domestic responsibilities took over. “I thought it (writing) was just something I used to do.”

However, things turned around one day when Yusuf went to visit a friend in Lahore who asked her if she was still writing. “When I told her I wasn’t, she said it was a sin to waste a gift like that. That advice just stuck with me.” Not only did Yusuf resume writing but also went on to publish her first collection of poems, Picture This, in 2001.

She cites literary stalwarts like Gerard Manley Hopkins, Pablo Neruda, Octavio Paz, Moniza Alvi, Maki Qureshi and Daud Kamal as some of her key inspirations. Her own work, however, has a distinct voice and dabbles with a variety of subjects from romance and nature to political satire. “Some of my recent poems like Jalebi is political in a roundabout way and then there is The Mechanics of Hearing which I’m told has a lot of sound and visuals to it,” she says. On the other hand her poem, Swat was born out of subtle observations in the valley through different eras. “I went there twice — when I was very little and once when I was married which is when we saw arms coming into Swat in the ’90s. But nobody was conscious of that at the time, there was that build-up, the floggings and the beheadings,” she says. “Even if you are not political, you are conscious of what’s going on to some extent,” she adds.

Along with being a renowned poet, Yusuf also served as the editor for The Alhamra Literary Review, a publication designed to highlight the work of Pakistani writers writing in English. She has presented alongside other writers in the Association of Writers and Writing Programs in America. Her verses have been featured in a profusion of local and international publications, including Sugar Mule, Journal of Postcolonial writing, The Missing Slate and The Chicago Quarterly Review. In 2012, Yusuf, along with the Canadian poet Blaine Marchand, guest-edited Vallum, a Canadian poetry journal that featured 26 Pakistani poets writing in English. Currently, she serves as an art critic for journals like Art Now and Nukta Art.

Even though the audience for Pakistani English prose has risen steadily over the years, English poetry has not witnessed the same trend. “If you want to be a writer, you will write regardless. Writing comes as if it’s like your second skin,” she says. While there is no dearth of good poetry in the country, the lack of awareness about the genre even among the educated circles saddens her. “Everyone is very proud of our local novelists who have acquired international recognition, but when it comes to poetry, its relevance is often questioned.” However, the works of promising poets like Shirin Haroun, Adrian A Husain, Moeen Faruqi, Shadab Zeest Hashmi, Mehvash Amin, Kyla Pasha and Sadaf Halai among others give her hope that things may change soon.

Maryam Usman is an arts and culture reporter at The Express Tribune , Islamabad. 

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, April 6^th, 2014.

The elaborate guest list included the United States cultural section, the French Centre of cultural section, the European Commission and diplomats from Cuba, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Afghanistan, Egypt and Palestine.

The QAU Vice-Chancellor Prof Aitzaz Ahmad inaugurated the festival.

Muhammad Asif Noor, the organiser of the multi-cultural festival, said the idea was to celebrate and promote understanding of the diverse cultures at the onset of the spring season.

The aroma of sizzling barbeque and Kabuli Pulao attracted food enthusiasts to the Afghanistan cultural stall where other delicacies included freshly-baked kulchey, a syrupy dessert and seasonal fruits such as lychee, raspberry and apple.

From little girls clad in shimmery ethnic dresses, college students in jeans and men in svelte suits, the event attracted people from various cultures at the venue. They went from one stall to the next, taking in the sights, sounds and flavours of each culture.

At the Iranian culture stall, the visitors browsed through hand-loomed carpets, ornate handicrafts and posters of the indigenous architecture, landscape and national leaders.

Azan Abu Ali, a business student at the National University of Science and Technology and son of the Palestinian ambassador, stood by his stall, entertaining the visitors.

Showcasing miniature hand-made structures of the Al-Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock in his country, he pointed to a common misperception. “The issue is that the Israelis and media show this as the mosque,” he said, gesturing towards the dome above the mosque, “Whereas all this area is the mosque with different doors leading to it.”

Hatem M. Hassaballah, who stood by the stall of Egypt, eagerly talked about the traditional hieroglyphs mounted at his stall. “The writings and drawings on papyrus are copies of original art,” he said.

Among the Pakistani stalls, the visitors seemed interested in browsing through the traditional jewellery and clothing, the vibrant truck art and the spicy street food.

In the backdrop of the colourful celebration, children enjoyed rides on banana boats while adults bailed out their friends from the wildly-popular love jail.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 9^th, 2014.

They were enjoying just another jam session, but with a lively twist.

The Drumming Circle — a weekly feature at Kuch Khaas in Islamabad — entered another dimension of amplified sound with an electronic fusion to the organic beats on Wednesday.  The second event in the month-long Colours of Life Festival featured celebrities DJ Barrister, Sparlay Rawail and Ammar Latif along with his Capoeria troupe.

Bringing his distinct flair to the session, the DJ played a mix of rhythms that were synchronised by the drummers, creating an uplifting sensation. It was a mash-up of South American culture, techno, electronic and underground music with some influences of Qawwali.

“It (fusion) is the sound of different cultures, where everyone brings in their own blend,” said DJ Barrister, who is a mongrel from the north west of the country; he was born in Lahore and educated in the United States. “I don’t know how the audience looks at this experiment, but to me, it is more enriching than your regular parties, which may lead to something,” he added.

The laidback atmosphere had children running around, parents relaxing and youngsters rejoicing in the company of friends. A little girl dressed as a princess held a tambourine, her pink dress swirling as she danced. Next to her, a boy cartwheeled to the music.

Asif Rana, a regular at the drumming circle, who was accompanied by his family, said: “It is like a get-together, everyone is chilled out, and there is no professional technique, so you think you are at par with the rest of the drummers.”

In the centre of the circle, Latif and his dance partners performed a mild version of the Brazilian dance, inspired by martial arts. They transitioned from slower moves to more intense ones, improvising the medium all along and pulling off some Salsa moves to add more variety to the performance.

“The fun part is that it is participatory,” said Evan Amezquyda, one of the dancers, who belongs to Peru. “It’s better than weapons and instills in you the idea that making mistakes is okay as long as you participate,” he added.

Latif, who was involved in initiating the activity at the venue over two years ago, reflected on the humble beginnings, he said: “It’s good to see how it’s progressed. We had all the space and the inclination. I’ve seen it grow and it’s interesting to include other elements and continue that vibe.”

Michelle-Tania Butt of Kuch Khaas explained the motivation behind hosting the festival, saying: “We are celebrating different styles of dance. I just heard somebody say they were feeling relaxed after a stressful day, which is what this is all about,” she added.

Forthcoming events include Dance for Change, featuring professional dancers Nighat Chauhdry, Amna Mawaz, Zain Sadiq, Faizaan Ahan and the KK Dance Crew.

The upcoming Marmalade Session — Salsa Night will introduce the sounds of Latin America, while the Dance Day celebrations will call on people from all walks of life to celebrate the most liberating form of expression.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 11^th, 2014.

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In the wake of the unscheduled operation, a branch of the Pehli Kiran School — which caters to low-income, migrant communities that inhabit slum areas and otherwise remain outside the scope of affordable education — was also demolished, despite a plea for time to remove the tin roofs that make up the modest structure.

“The school was not given enough time to take down the structure,” said a distraught Zainab Qureshi, the academic director for Pehli Kiran Schools’ eight branches.

“The mosque remains unharmed though,” she added.

According to the Capital Development Authority (CDA), all of the structures in the area are illegal and liable to be removed.

No time given

According to Qureshi, the schools move with their pupils and the removal of the slum would have resulted in a shift of premises, provided PK-6 was allowed to remove its nut-and-bolt structure.

“I was on the roof removing the screws when a bulldozer came,” shared Ghazanfar Ali, who is a head teacher at the school. “Without students, we are not a school. Our plan was to move with the community.”

He explained that the average cost of a school — a tin roof propped over poles set in concrete — was Rs200,000, in addition to books, straw mats, audio-visual aids and sporting equipment. The loss will have to be absorbed by the donation-fueled school due to lack of cooperation from the CDA, who demolished the slum this afternoon as part of their mandate to remove all illegal slums in Islamabad.

The operation was led by CDA Enforcement Deputy Director Mohammad Iqbal on orders from Chairman Maroof Afzal to recover 1,200 kanals on CDA-owned land in sectors I-10 and H-10.

An estimated 1,300 individuals live in the slum, also known as the Afghan Basti due to its large migrant population. While the occupied land belongs to the CDA, the authority’s indifference to the illegal occupants for over three decades has left a stain on its sleeve, with mounting pressure from activists to regularise the slums.

Earlier this month, the red-flagged Awami Workers Party and former federal minister for minorities J Salik rallied together to challenge the IHC’s orders, though little was achieved beyond lip service from local politicians.

Legality

“The case of katchi abadi demolition is sub-judice and the CDA is carrying out this action illegally,” said Tahira Abdullah, social activist and a volunteer trustee of the JAQ Trust, which runs the Pehli Kiran schools.

“We deserve to be relocated,” expressed Suhbat Khan, “But our livelihoods are here, at the Sabzi Mandi,” Khan explained that relocation to Rawat and its tributaries would make it economically unfeasible to travel to Islamabad to work in the market, pushing their families further into the cusp of uncertainty.

On the other hand, Deputy Director Iqbal said the CDA had “made several announcements in the katchi abadi and resumed an operation that started a month ago so that the community would have time to move willingly”.

He said the government does not have enough space to relocate everyone, “But I can assure you that most of them can afford to live in rented spaces. They just choose not to.” He then recounted an interaction with a resident who said he preferred the open skies to closed quarters.

According to Iqbal, no stay orders were violated. He added that “the mosque is unscathed”.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 15^th, 2014.

The Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa pavilion has a charm of its own, with a recreated “Bab-i-Khyber” entrance ushering in the visitors in all its grandeur. The pavilion boasts 25 master craftsmen and craftswomen from across the province.

It was refreshing to note that most of the stalls have been assigned to women artisans, including Saira Parveen and Tasleem Bibi mastering in Hazara Phulkari; Khadija Sardar who crafts Chitral and Kalash costumes; Nasreen Nisar mastering in Kohistani tanka; Rameem Naz excelling in weaving; and Hanfa Shah, whose expertise is Hazara Jasti work.

The most prominent among them was Saira Perveen. Excelling in Phulkari, a famous form of embroidery from the Hazara region, she weaves intricate flower patterns with coloured silk threads on hand-woven coarse cotton cloth. Learning the craft under her mother’s tutelage from a formative age, she upheld the tradition which had been her family’s occupation. Parveen has trained a number of female students at Havelian in this art, and has also won accolades at various festivals and exhibitions.

Some of the accomplished artisans at the festival included Waseem and Samiullah practicing lacquer art; Taj Muhammad (Swat wood-carving); Shams Zaman (shawl weaving); Riaz Ahmed (wax printing); Sultanat Khan (wood carving/calligraphy); Kashif and M. Asif (crfating Charsada chappals); Sultan Muhammad (weaving Swati shawls); Shah Behram (Taghars floor rug); Aurangzeb (stone carving) and Khawaja Safar Ali (metal work).

Hailing from Peshawar, Khawaja Safar Ali, 70, is a master of metal work.

Once common in his native area, indigenous metal work is gradually dying out now, partly, due to the high cost of raw material, and also due to an onslaught of imported metal ware in local markets.

Not dissuaded by the change in demand, Ali still displays his labour of love at his workshop in Misgaran Bazaar. His work includes decorative plates, vases, bowls, samovars (metal water boiling utensil of Central Asian origin) and similar articles, replicating finely detailed designs reminiscent of the glorious Mughal era.

A trip to the K-P pavilion would have been incomplete without treating oneself to the famed delicacy chappal kabab, prepared fresh. Also on offer at the pavilion were patta seekh and lamb karahi, ready to be guzzled down and washed off with a cup of qehwa (green tea), infused with a hint of cardamom, brewed in a samovar at “Nemat Khan Qehwa Khana”. Pleasant folk Pushtoon tunes such as “Tunk Takor” wafted out of a nearby hujra, which hosted musicians accompanying traditional musical instruments including the rabab, tabla and harmonium.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 15^th, 2014.

While difficult to imagine, and largely unknown within Pakistan, this western tradition, traversed continents to line the walls of the Nomad Gallery on Sunday, revealing the dotted, pulsating heritage of Australia’s desert communities. The exhibition, which consisted of 10 works from different aborigine artists, was made possible through the Australian High Commission in a bid to celebrate the inimitable form of art.

Known as dreamings, this form of expression embraced the permanence of the canvas in the 1960s — at an unassuming school in the Northern Territory, which is home to the Papunya community. The shift in medium is attributed to Geoffrey Bardon, an art teacher who encouraged men to paint these dreamings on the walls and doors of the school, preserving them in the strokes of acrylic paint for future generations to absorb, and take pride in.

Roseanne Morton’s dotted canvas — with the rudimentary title Yam Seeds  — traces the trajectory of aboriginal women as they collect yam seeds used to make dough for bread.  The canvas is a series of simple markings, suggesting on a surface level, the diet of the people and the meticulous scavenging that precedes each meal, though the dreaming takes on an ethnographic significance, using paint as a tool for recording how certain people lived at a certain time.

A more playful canvas, titled Bush Plum and Carpet Snake, reveals the surreal narrative of two snakes growing up together to carve out Central Australia. The narrative is almost undecipherable removed from its context and from the ancestral aspiration it takes shape from; however, it retains palpable energy and magnetism.

Dreamings are considered intellectual property and often passed on with great caution and ceremony.  In this way, the markings of each dreaming cannot overlap and the mythical narratives are inextricably linked to lineage.

“While the paintings are created by different artists, they are linked through technique,” expressed Nageen Hayat, curator of the Nomad Gallery, where the aboriginal art is on display until April 16.  According to Hayat, several viewers had inquired as to whether the paintings were made by the same artist and while the layered narratives of each canvas were entirely unique, the curator felt that the strong tradition of the art movement itself could be felt in the presence of the works created by different artists, with often diverse lineages.

Australian High Commissioner, Peter Heyward, suggested a similar linkage through the intrinsic attractiveness of the canvases, connected largely through a culture that has existed for thousands of years.  The paintings are priced between $600 and $1640 and there is no commission on sales, the entire revenue goes directly to the artists in Australia.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 16^th, 2014.

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Much of her own trajectory of creative growth was defined through time spent exhibiting and working abroad, although in the absence of a residency program within Pakistan, the opportunity did not extend to foreign artists wishing to absorb the aesthetic nuance and pulsating landscape of Pakistan within their work.

It was this void that Zaka strived to fill early last year in establishing the Zaira Zaka Studio Residencies as a space designed to bring artists together in an organic exchange of creation, of technique and ideas.  The cultivation of Zaka’s efforts was on display at the Satrang Gallery in Serena Hotel on Wednesday.  Titled “Five Connect”, the show related the quintessence of collaborative art largely through the barter of techniques and cultural ideals, divergent only in subject matter and showcased the ten-day-long efforts of UK-based artists Rose Davies, Hannah Lawson, Kara Seaman and local talents, Muhammad Atif Khan and Zaka herself.

“During the exchange, we introduced the process of reduction monotype, a printmaking process linked to the French Impressionism of the 19th Century,” shared Rose Davies, whose work leans intrinsically towards traditional drawing, but through the patient and doting process of printmaking.  According to Davies, the process was originally used by the well-known impressionists, Degas and Monet, though was forgotten for the better part of the artistic movements to follow, only to be rediscovered by an Indian researcher based in the United States.

Davies’ work engages a range of colours, though the artist uses red, yellow and blue, layering one upon the other as is traditionally done in the monotype process. Her imagery is localised and inspired by her visits to Pakistan, as if describing the people and space in a visual diary without any evident tendency.

A colleague of Davies’ at the Swansea Print Shop in Wales, Hannah Lawson’s work brushes upon some of the details absorbed during her visit to the Taxila Museum and the chaotic, narrow-lanes of Rawalpindi, though it does not limit itself.  Kara Seaman’s work is a playful shift from the more rustic monotypes of Davies and Lawson and the illustrated animals in pastel colours come to life on the canvas, as if part of a vintage children’s storybook.

“It has been very exciting to be a part of this exchange,” shares Lawson, who is visiting Pakistan for the first time.

While Zaka’s work maintains a similar exploration of the monotype, depicting a silhouetted figure in dialogue with itself, and with the space with colours like a summer afternoon indoors, Muhammad Atif Khan’s miniature-esque breaks away from the technique, using exquisite detail to express playful but layered ideas. Unlike his colleagues, Khan’s work clings to the decadent symbols of fruit flies, ants and Mughal figures, typical of his well-known portfolio.

“The detail on Atif Khan’s work, especially in his pieces, “sweetheart” and “migration” is just incredible,” shared Zara Sajjid, Curator of the virtual gallery My Art World. “They look like miniature paintings from a distance until you peer closer and discover that they are etchings and digital prints.”

Prices range between Rs7,000 and Rs85,000 and the exhibit continues until May 10.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 17^th, 2014.

The ethereal sight of the dancers known as Semazen evokes a sense of rapture and tranquility at odds with the chaos of modern existence and it was a similar ambivalence that filled the halls of Marriott Hotel, Thursday, as the Istanbul Historical Turkish Music Ensemble enlightened a sizable Islamabad audience with Ayin-i-Cem-a dense glimpse into the time-old Sema ritual.

The dancers circled the hall thrice, each circle representing a level of knowledge in Sufi teaching. PHOTOS: MYRA IQBAL/EXPRESS

The opulence of the hall was transformed into a bare austere Semahane (the space that contains the performance), except for a red sheepskin, upon which the leader of the cohort known as the Post-Nisheen took seat, divided from the other dancers through an imagined line, almost like an equator that represented the divine and infinite path to an alternative reality. In this way, the Semahane was split in two halves: descent and material realm on the right end and ascent and spiritual dominion on the left end. The red sheepskin spoke of the manifestation of God to man and the Post-Nisheen donned the spirit of Jalaluddin Rumi.

The ritual began with humility; the dancers entered with their arms across their chests and hands on either shoulders and a poem expressing love for Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) was chanted, the haunting timbres of which settled upon the audience. This was followed with a prelude, during which the flautist reenacted the trumpet that heralds the day of judgment, evoking breath which signals life. A 28-beat instrumental known as Peshrev stirred movement in the dancers, who bowed to the floor and struck it with their hands, rising to Allah’s command, “Be!” whilst suggesting resurrection from the grave.

The dancers circled the hall thrice, each circle representing a level of knowledge in Sufi teaching — knowing, seeing and becoming — elevating from the material to the spiritual and bowing to one another in relating connection between souls. The ceremony consisted of four stages of Selam, where the dancers disrobed from black to white in what symbolised a spiritual birth.

The first stage recognised the attainment of Shariah  — one of the divine laws of Sufism  — during which the human being becomes aware of his creator, and of his own vulnerability and inherent subservience. The ensuing stage expressed a state of awe in the presence of Allah, and the dancers were seen gripped in the grandeur of His existence. In the third Selam, this awe transformed into love and surrender of intellect in the path of true love. It is in this moment that the dancers become nothing; it was an utter cessation of self, after which, the fourth Selam completed the spiritual journey, hushing the attained sense of exuberance through the pace of the music which limited itself to a single musician.

“It was an overpowering experience,” expressed an attendee, Waqas Qureshi, who praised the transformative power of the ritual. “I felt absorbed in the energy of the dancers,” he added.

An entirely unique opportunity to experience the ritual outside of its historic setting in Turkey, the event was pulled off by the Turkish Embassy under the aegis of the Turkish Ambassador, H E Sadik Babur Girgin.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 19^th, 2014.

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Held at the artisan couple Zaman and Dorothy’s residence on Saturday morning, the ensemble included prints, paintings, drawings, wearable art, jewellery and objects d’art. A total of 14 artists and artisans presented their work at the showcase. Artistically displayed pieces lined the driveway and the garden of the house, leaving adequate space for people to navigate from one stall to the next, or to linger admiringly around the object of their desire.

Zaman explained that the venture was a casual gathering of like-minded friends from the capital city, Lahore, Karachi and Taxila, intended to display their labour of love, with special focus on contemporary craft. He has been hosting similar shows biannually in spring and autumn for about two years now.

Zaman’s expertise lies in crafting candle stands, lamp bases and lanterns. The fare on display included candle stands made out of digitally-printed paper on plexiglas with a coat of lacquer, and hand-coloured shades.

Ilona Yusuf’s collection of photo-etching prints, wall clocks and lamp shades came in an appealing mix of colours and textures. “The emphasis is on high quality, innovative products,” she said.

Rabbania Shirjeel, a young photographer, exhibited her photo prints. Based in Lahore, she takes a keen interest in traditional subjects, wall-chalking and graffiti- the finished products come through beautifully in both miniature as well as larger prints.

Embodying a knack for the quirky, her brand of art follows signboards and billboards, portraying caricatures of the contradictions within. One of the hand-painted banners in a photograph reads “Itwar bazaar jumayraat ko (Sunday Bazaar on Thursday)”.

Her mother, Rakshanda Atawar, exhibited her collection of charcoal and pastel artworks along with hand-painted stoles, scarves and duppattas in blooming, summery colours.

Next to her stall, the renowned photographer Muhammad Azhar Hafeez unveiled his series of Pakistani souvenirs. “I just realised we don’t have any souvenirs from this part of the world,” he said, talking about his display of mugs, mouse pads, stone plates and coasters etched with some of his famous photographs.

While everyone cannot afford to buy masterpieces of art, he said, the low-cost but high quality products can make affordable souvenirs and presents. The price range for coasters is Rs250 and for mug, Rs750.

Alia Bilgrami showcased etching and photography prints, linocuts and collagraphs while Durre Sameen stood by her display of home accessories sporting truck art on stainless steel.

Saweela Khan exhibited her range of natural skin-care products including soaps, body washes, shampoos, lip balms and mosquito repellents.

Ceramic ware including mirrors, ashtrays and vases by the renowned artist Afshar Malik’s nephew Ghalib was also displayed at the event.

Another stall displayed Muna Siddiqui’s home décor crafts. Starting with traditional motifs, she has transformed them into contemporary pieces, some of which are functional and others purely for viewing pleasure.

Her designs use basic skills such as hand-cut mosaic, sculpted decoupage and hand embroideries, set and presented in functional items by skilled carpenters, tailors, polishers and craftsmen. Recycling ethos is an integral part of her work, in the spirit to make a difference in the community.

Gushing over the gorgeous display, Saira, a buyer at the exhibit said, “This is a fabulous collection of things that you don’t see in the market often,” adding that she had a hard time settling on what to buy. “I thought the prints of signage across Punjab was an interesting glimpse into societal values and pop culture within Pakistan.”

Published in The Express Tribune, April 20^th, 2014.

ISLAMABAD: The Sunday sun dawned upon the sister cities of Islamabad and Rawalpindi with the promise of Easter festivities.  

The formidable alacrity of motorbikes was not questioned, as they zoomed through the pedestrians making their way through the congested alley adjacent to St Thomas Church in Sector G-7. The 5am morning mass was followed by an afternoon service, which concluded in the evening.

As the day’s celebrations commenced, the young ones had a license to go all-out. Girls were glistening in vibrant outfits paired with high heels, while the boys managed to exhibit their esoteric style in denim embossed with text and motifs, neon shirts, styled hair and smiles intact, replete with eyewear.

“It completes my outfit,” proclaimed Joel, sandwiched between two boys on a bike.

While Easter is a special occasion for Christians, it is a windfall day for Mohammad Syed, a sunglasses vendor who makes sure to come by on this particular occasion each year. Strategically camped at the end of the alley, he dusted and reshuffled the sunglasses every few minutes. Cycling through town on Easter a few years back, he gauged the high demand for the accessory on this particular day.

“I come here every Easter and make more sales than I do on any day in the entire year,” said Syed. “Today, my profits are already double that of a normal day. I have been restocking every few hours. It’s been a good day,” he smiled.

Bustling with energy, the run-down streets of the kachi basti in G-7 shone with bright outfits and brighter smiles. The traffic from the church was naturally directed towards local parks. “I am going with my family to celebrate Easter. We have prepared a nice meal for the day” said Saima.

Ulfat Kaala, an elderly woman sitting on a charpoy outside her house, fondly watched her grandchildren play. A basti resident for the past few decades, she has seen the basti sprawl out. “The community’s festivities have also grown bigger with time,” she said.

Venus Ashraf, a basti resident for 22 years, believes that although most Christians in Pakistan are engulfed by poverty, their spirit of celebration remains unhampered.

For Margret, Easter was different this year. Having lost her 12-year-old son to leukaemia seven months ago, she was only there for the annual prayer. A single parent, Margret barely managed to pull together some money for her son’s treatment. In a tight spot now, she could not buy new clothes for her four living children — three girls and a four-month-old boy.

Azam Masih, a tailor, said festivities get fancier each year. “I guess when one is troubled, participation in ceremonial festivals help us forget our worries for a day.”

Meanwhile, in Rawalpindi

While, Christians from the garrison city were indulging good food and family, they also noted that Easter is also a celebration of organic values.

“I like celebrating Easter by dining out with my family,” said Komal, 45.

Simon,32, said Easter eggs are the main feature of the day, given mostly to children.

St Paul’s Church paid an ode to Easter with traditional piety, as pastors disseminated messages of renewed hope symbolised by Christ’s sacrifice.

“On Easter, we pray to God to help us overcome the scourge of hunger, conflicts and wastefulness caused by us humans,” said St Paul’s Church Pastor Dr Samuel Titus.

“I pray that God enlightens us all and promotes peace in the country, giving us strength to make every effort in curbing terrorism and resolving conflicts peacefully,” said Titus.

The city’s churches and homes of Christians reverberated with prayers, recalling the final days of Christ’s life, from his entry into Jerusalem to his crucifixion at Calvary. Special prayers for the restoration of peace in the country were also held.

“Christ teaches us lessons in forgiveness and helping others, working for peace and tolerance,” said Afzal Masih. “There are lessons we all need to learn from the sacrifice Jesus paid on the cross at Calvary,” he added.

“Let us work together, regardless of religion and caste, to put our motherland back on the path to development,” urged Sajid Masih, 50.

Special security arrangements had also been made for the churches, including walkthrough gates and metal detectors provided to the churches’ administrations, besides police personnel deployed outside churches.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 21^st, 2014.

Covering a diverse range of characters, ethnicities, languages and stereotypes, Beo’s quips were a welcome change from the humdrumness of life that is often marked by distress, and certainly a useable alternative to seeing your neighbourhood shrink.

Suited in black with a bling tie, Beo effortlessly shifts between her characters, sometimes breaking into laughter herself at their eccentricities. PHOTOS: MYRA IQBAL/EXPRESS

Beo, who is perhaps Pakistan’s first female stand-up comedian, has a tongue-in-cheek humour that complements her feisty, small-framed presence on stage. When she tells a joke, she feels the pulse of her characters. Imagining each detail, she aptly presents the feel of her characters, be it the elderly Kashmiri couple Butt and Bago, miserly Rajak bhai or the 99-year-old Bobo jee as she confronts the angel of death.

Suited in black with a bling tie, Beo effortlessly shifts between her characters, sometimes breaking into laughter herself at their eccentricities. Beo celebrates the prototypes that are a part of every other household, such as the fussy dadi jaan who asks, “Kee pakiya ae” (What is cooked?) and is almost never satisfied with the food menu.

Suited in black with a bling tie, Beo effortlessly shifts between her characters, sometimes breaking into laughter herself at their eccentricities. PHOTOS: MYRA IQBAL/EXPRESS

This is someone whose social life is largely limited attending funerals of people from the same age bracket, for which she does extensive preparation. She takes out her lace dupatta, talcum powder and gets ready to display her mourning theatrics, which she has mastered to perfection.

Though rooted in stereotypical ideas, from the Hispanic maid and her Punjabi employer to the Pathan who robs a bank and asks the clerk to open his account and deposit the cash into it, Beo’s performances combine skilfulness and thorough research.

For a first-time audience, laughing fits are inevitable. To keep her fan following engaged, Beo avoids repeating previously told jokes as she understands that her characters must evolve and embrace new experiences.

The event was attended by renowned personalities including Naeem Bukhari, Adeel Hashmi and Taimur Hassan. “Life should have a singular purpose, and that is to laugh often and be happy,” shared Naeem Bukhari.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 25^th, 2014.

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The cries were heard and around 30 minutes past seven, Dr Omer Aadil with his co-host Farah Hussain, emerged from behind the stage and announced Zia Mohyeddin.

The octogenarian Zia jogged a couple of steps to reach the rostrum. The auditorium resounded with thunderous claps. Almost all rose, most in respect, others to catch a glimpse of the master narrator.

The leaflet sent out to invite people to the second day of the National Book Foundation promised a delightful evening, through a rare repertoire from classic to contemporary literature by the legend. And that it was.

According to Dr Aadil, they were apprehensive at first, they had a feeling that people may not turn up in as many numbers as they did in Lahore and Karachi. However, he was happy that the impression of Islamabad as a ‘city of babus’ with little to no interest in books was proven wrong. The hall was packed to capacity and people stood at the back reclining against the wall.

Aadil said, just like good singers, Zia’s oration lent a new life to words.

The auditorium resounded with thunderous claps when the audience got a glimpse of the master narrator. PHOTOS: MYRA IQBAL/EXPRESS

Zia, acknowledging the welcome, moved behind the microphone, perched his glasses on his nose and started in his gruff, resonant voice, taking the audience on a rare journey from old to new — interspersing it with a comment on “English being a crazy language” attributed to the American comedian writer and social critic George Carlin, who among other hilarious things says, “If vegetarian eat vegetables, I wonder what a humanitarian eats?” and “Where do you fill in a form by filling it out.”

He dexterously alternated between verse and prose to cater to the varied interests of the audience. Some continuously giggled, others smiled, while the rest laughed to the point of tears trickling down their cheeks.

The event was engaging and entertaining; neither did the narrator’s forehead show any signs of perspiration and nor did the audience grow any less generous in putting their hands together. Every good phrase, rise and fall of the voice and change of accent to reflect the gender and ethnicity of characters was duly applauded.

He rendered Phir Koi Aya Dil-e Zar, Nahin Koi Nahin and Manzar by Faiz Ahmed Faiz without looking at the paper. Excerpts read out from works of Josh Malih Abadi, Zulfiqar Ali Bukhari and Mushtaq Ahmad Yusufi were particularly liked. At the end of every rendition, he would remove his glasses and the audience would clap.

This magic lasted for one hour and thirty minutes. The Islooites sent back the master by again rising in their chairs and giving him a much-deserved standing ovation.

“We neither have words, nor the  pronunciation nor the accent to thank Zia. Appreciate our courage, we have dared to speak just after Zia has spoken,” said Aadil.

At the end of the session, an audience member, Aimen Zoheb, said she was recently reading Yusufi, but it was an entirely different experience to listen to Zia. He gave the words a new life.

“It was wonderful. It was worth the time and effort. It is a blessing to be living in the same age as Zia Saheb,” said Abdus Samad, a pharmacy student from Abbottabad as he walked out of the auditorium with a smile playing on his lips.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 26^th, 2014.

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“I remember when my first safarnama (travelogue) became an instant hit — I garnered quite a following, and also some contempt. Being entirely self-taught sans formal training, some people found it hard to digest my success,” said Tarar, explaining the organic nature of his expression.

He described his transition to writing novels as “entirely subconscious”, rather than well-thought through.

In the earlier days, “innocent” readers were easily enthralled, he jokingly added, but today’s readers have become critical to the extent that they raise thematic issues in the writer’s text, which the latter may not even be aware of, a statement echoed by Home Boy author HM Naqvi a day earlier.

As a columnist, he conceded he did not consider himself particularly successful. “I’ve penned columns for 40 years without blackmailing anyone of importance,” was Tarar’s gauge. Responding to Farrukhi’s query about Tarar’s interest in animals, he said they were honest and unpretentious — harder subjects to deal with, but easier to draw allegories from.

Ending on a note about his creative process, he shared a fan’s insight. “Your female characters are stronger than the male ones”. His response to this was that every sensitive man is 30-40 per cent woman. He was unable to determine his own femininity percentage, but did share a Kafka-esque fear. “Every night when I go to sleep, I don’t know what I will wake up as.”

Published in The Express Tribune, April 28^th, 2014.

At the Islamabad Foreign Women’s Association (IFWA) here on Wednesday, Midori Inomata, the wife of the Japanese Ambassador, sat at a table supported by bright spotlights. As the group of women were initially seated listening to the procedure, as Inomata proceeded towards the final stages, they could not resist but to crowd around the table documenting it with their cell phones.

With everyone’s eyes engrossed at the table, observing her delicate hand movements, Inomata explained that Boneski was is a traditional Japanese art that is done with immense concentration.

With the use of a black base, the textures used on top were in white creating a space for contrast and dimension. The miniature work is done by placing natural stones on black lacquer trays with various size and amounts of white sand used to add dimension.

The multidimensional view of a scene is inspired by the four scenes. It often depicts mountains, seashores, and gardens. Small stones are used to represent mountains, shore lines or rocky islands that waves break upon. Miniature structures, usually of painted copper, are sometimes added to the work to make houses, temples, bridges, and the like.

Stone, being hard, strong, and not easily changed, evokes strong marital ties, harmonious relations, and longevity explained Inomata. “In the old days, while receiving guests, one may have burnt incense to purify the place and prepare stone decoration to symbolise long-lasting peace and good health” she added.

The stones and sand can be returned to their original state by sieve or rearranged to create a different scene. This form of one-time or impermanent enjoyment, as well as its decisiveness can be said to relate to Japanese cultural ideas such as Bushd-way of Japanese warrior knight.

It is said that Bonseki began in the seventh century, when Empress Suiko admired a mountain-shaped stone that was attached to the lid of an incense burner, a “Hakusan-Koro”, which had been placed on a tray for her crown.

“I think it is extremely therapeutic just watching her make this with so much patience” said a participant from Holland. “It is a totally new experience for most of us. We might have seen this form of art, but never really thought of the amount of patience and hard work that goes into creating it,” said Farah Rani.

Published in The Express Tribune, May 1^st, 2014.

A flickering bulb hanging from a wire was the only source of light at the venue. The generator was out of order and the DJ was running late for the show. Soniya, whose real name is Safdar, skimmed through the call log on her mobile with a flustered expression. “DJ Nadeem where are you? You know what this night means to me. The arrangements are not what I expected.”

The transgender community is divided in groups headed by a guru. Soniya’s guru expired some time ago. The celebration to crown the next guru is referred to as salgirah or shadi. She tried to sit patiently in the corner of the murky courtyard of Shemale Association for Fundamental Rights (SAFAR), a vocational centre for the transgender community nestled in Bari Imam.

The sense of conservatism is palpable while walking through congested, rocky pathways leading to the gate with a dummy lock. It led to Soniya’s residence, a transgender person.

One of the three bedrooms was transformed into a salon for the night. A makeup artist had come to assist Fauzia in dressing up Soniya, who is in his mid-50s. “Isn’t she beautiful?” asked Fauzia.

Draped in saris and lehngas, they walked to the venue. Safdar with a cigarette in hand was filtering unwanted guests in the courtyard. “We don’t come to your events, you are not allowed to come to ours,” he said screaming at a group of men.

The music encouraged the transgender persons to step up and show off their dancing skills. With all the glitches and gatecrashers trying to ruin the party, they knew that the show must go on.

Although they managed to fix the lights and celebrate the night, the struggle for their rights remains a concern.

Life as a third gender

Young boys combating an identity crisis, confronted by social taboos from an early age, are often abandoned by their families. Losing their way through narrow streets, destiny escorts them to seek refuge with a guru, where they are accepted as one of their own.

“All we want is recognition as a third gender,” shared Transgender Foundation Pakistan President Almas Bobby.

Doctors are not allowed to perform a sex change operation by law. Trainee doctors conduct operations on men at undisclosed locations for Rs60,000 to 70,000. There is no post-operative care. Some of them believe those who undergo surgery will go to hell. “It’s the work of the devil, who puts such ideas in their heads,” said Bijlee, a transgender. Some also ostracise transsexual men. Within their own community, sex change operations are controversial.

They live dual lives. Most of them are crossdressers and beg in the cities for a living. They revert to being men when they go back to their families. Transgender fauzia, ne shahid has a wife and two daughters in high school in a village in Punjab.

According to advocate Muhammad Majid Bashir, in 2011 the Supreme Court ordered a third sex category for the transgender community on national identity cards. “They were also allowed a share in their inheritance, a two per cent quota for jobs in all sectors along with the right to vote,” he said.

National Council for Social Welfare (NCSW) has been working on a draft for the “Protection and Welfare of Khwaja Sira Bill” since the past year. Stakeholders have been invited to give feedback. The first copy of the draft includes access to education, employment, health and human rights.

NCSW Director Farhat Sultana said the community needs laws in place to address their issues. “The draft has been bouncing from one ministry to the other.”

She shared a quote of a law ministry official, who said amendments in 28 laws were needed to fulfil the transgender community’s demands. “The government is negotiating with stakeholders to devise ways to disseminate information regarding psychological problems faced by sexual minorities and develop public awareness programmes.”

NCSW has submitted a request to the Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority to disseminate messages in favour of accepting them as a part of the society She added that. “We are waiting for a response from them.”

Published in The Express Tribune, June 15^th, 2014.

Established in 1860, the Murree Brewery came to serve the “beer needs” of the British, in turn bringing intrigue to local palettes, through its roasted, bittersweet malt-brew.

The brewery suffered a setback when Zulfikar Ali Bhutto attempted to garner mass appeal via religion. The sale and consumption of alcohol was limited to buying it with the help of permits.

A vestige of more liberal times, the Murree Brewery’s clientele began to depend on the licences. Loopholes were created for the buyers. Thus, those with permits, mostly non-Muslims, discovered the option of becoming middlemen. However, the demand for the products remained inelastic.

“It is not in our blood to value our heritage,” Chief Executive of the Murree Brewery Isphanyar Bhandara expressed.

“The Murree Brewery should be promoted as a tourist attraction. We are piled high in requests for visits from foreign dignitaries,” he said as he shuffled through some papers, pulling out one from a prominent ambassador, and reminded his special assistant, the moustached Sabihur Rehman who is a retired army man, to schedule the visit soon.

Sharp-featured and dressed in a crisp button-down shirt without the slightest wrinkle, the son of the late M.P. Bhandara has big shoes to fill.

Family feud

Recently, Isphandyar released a public notice relating to a conspiracy involving a gardener, his brother-in-law, several bank accounts and, of course, black magic – nothing short of a movie plot. Holding his brother-in-law, Rustam Sidhva, to allegations of money laundering, and vilification, Isphandyar is unrelenting when it comes to matters of business.

Goshi M. Bhandara, mother of Isphandyar, is a co-owner, therefore, and has an equal directorial stake in the company. The son and the mother have a tiff. Goshi could not be contacted for a comment, but a press statement released earlier in March by her redeems Sidhva.

The statement, published in an English daily, suggests that Sidhva’s help was sought in the absence of male relatives, as Goshi battled for her right in the company. She refutes claims that she is senile and under the influence of voodoo. Thus, the plot thickens.

Too taxing

The government’s recent introduction of the capacity tax – a tax levied on the potential of a plant, rather than on sales – puts the future of small beverage industries at stake. When the opportunity-based taxation policy was adopted earlier in 1991, it pushed out local competition, giving leverage to soft-drink giants. The tax has been criticised and often identified as a lobbying tactic by the multinationals that own majority shares within the beverage industry.

“The capacity tax is an attempt to weed out competition in the beverage industry and it needs to be reviewed,” said Bhandara and expressed that with much of the business enterprise struggling with utilities, gas and electric shortages, and a general climate of fear, the nature of such taxation was unreasonable and would serve to create joblessness.

In the last one year, the capacity tax has caused millions in revenue loss and is being reconsidered. Upon pressure from certain groups, the FBR sought a change in tax regime in order to curb tax evasion, which it has been unable to achieve.

The Murree Brewery’s non-alcoholic enterprise is likely to suffer more than its alcoholic production, unless the tax is revised to pave the way for a more inclusive and level playing field.

The men behind the brew

The Murree Brewery has over 1,700 workers of which many are third-generation employees. Daily wages are decent and the prospect of regularisation to full-time staff keeps most rooted to the redbrick building, where near-faded painted signage lends a sense of nostalgia to an otherwise modern façade. The workers clock in at 9am sharp, retreat into their apportioned roles, and re-emerge around noon for lunch when they break the tranquility of the outdoors with chatter and cigarette-smoke for 30 minutes.

Moving grain with a shovel in a dark room, Asif Mehmood’s silhouette catches the trajectory of light that comes in from the open windows. Mehmood doesn’t drink, but he does not mind the pungent, mildew odour that fills the room.

“I get paid by the hour, but I earn enough to sustain a decent living,” he says. Mehmood, who migrated from Rawat, has worked at the brewery for eight years, and like all daily wagers, he doesn’t enjoy many health benefits.

For Rana Mohammad Idrees, however, there is good news. Upgraded to a contract, the 57-year-old feels at home in the brewery and is thrilled at the opportunities that a confirmation brings: a bonus, medical insurance and security.  As all good tidings, these perks have come to him after 25 years of service.

Located opposite the heavily guarded residence of the Chief of Army Staff, the brewery has a relatively quiet presence, an attribute that has allowed it to escape caveat from a public disposed to religious extremes, not far from its peripheries.

Its gate is painted in the green and white, star and crescent of the Pakistani flag.

Popular demand

The brewery produces a range of non-alcoholic beers, juices and sodas, including Tops and Bigg Apple. It also offers flavoured malts, whisky, gin and vodka, though can only be procured by a limited clientele. The opportunities to advertise are obviously few.

Earlier in 2012, the daughter of Hollywood stars Demi Moore and Bruce Willis was caught drinking Murree Beer in New York City. While the underage Hollywood progeny may have gotten into some trouble, the 150-year-old Murree Brewery was more than thrilled to be in the spotlight, and embraced the free publicity to seek expansion outside of the restrictive conditions in Pakistan. As of 2013, the Murree Brewery has a franchise in Bangalore, in India.

Competition, if any

Murree Brewery’s competition comes from the Quetta Distillery, established in the 1950s and owned by the former provincial minister Faridoon Abadan, also from the Parsi community. Abadan was kidnapped more than a decade ago and was never found. His wife, Nilofar Abadan who was running the distillery in his absence was also abducted in 2011, and later released after paying ransom. Little else is known about the distillery; its precarious geography, however, puts it at a disadvantage.

With an influx of beer and liquor smuggled in from China through the Gilgit-Baltistan region and India through Tharparkar, Sindh, the real challenge for all distilleries alike — including Indus Distillery in Sindh owned by Senator Hari Ram Kishorilal – is Pakistan’s porous borders and the government’s inability to curb smuggling of illegal goods, including its inflexible stance on the import and export of alcohol.

Published in The Express Tribune, September 1^st, 2014.