MAY 13-19 2012
Larger than life Meet the men who save countless lives while putting their own on the line
MAY 13-19 2012
Cover Story 20 Larger than life The awe-inspiring courage of Peshawar’s Bomb Disposal Squad
Feature 30 A Woman of Substance For her unwavering commitment to the fight against militancy, Shazia Gul paid the ultimate price 34 My own personal Manto Born a hundred years ago, the writer still seems as visionary today as when his stories were first published
Style 36 Combining Coiffure and Couture When L’Oréal Professionnel and uber hair stylist Nabila join hands, the results are mindblowing!
36
20 Regulars 6 People & Parties: Out and about with Pakistan’s beautiful people 38 Review: What’s new in books 42 End Of The Line: Even bad grades are better with Meezan!
38
4
Magazine Editor: Zarrar Khuhro, Senior Sub-Editor: Batool Zehra, Sub-Editors: Ameer Hamza and Dilaira Mondegarian. Creative Team: Amna Iqbal, Jamal Khurshid, Essa Malik, Maha Haider, Faizan Dawood, Sanober Ahmed and S Asif Ali. Publisher: Bilal A Lakhani. Executive Editor: Muhammad Ziauddin. Editor: Kamal Siddiqi. For feedback and submissions: magazine@tribune.com.pk
PEOPLE & PARTIES
Maira Pagganwalla and Saima Acharia
Shezray Husain
Wardha Saleem
PHOTOS COURTESY KASHIF-UD-DIN
Ensemble launches its new outlet, One by Ensemble, in Karachi
Maheen Karim and Nida Azwer
Munira Rafay, Mehreen Danish and Sana Shahzad
Sania Maskatiya and Sana Hashwani
6 MAY 13-19 2012
Mahin Hussain and Maheen Khan
Tapu Javeri
Shehrnaz Husain and Nazneen Tariq
17 MAY 13-19 2012
PEOPLE & PARTIES Osman Ghani with a friend
Ali Xeeshan and Imtisal
Sonia
Ali Xeeshan and Verve host the PFDC Fashion Week after party in Lahore Ammar Belal, Hamza Tarar and Aaminah Haq
Nooray, Amna Kardar, Maha and Marium Areesha and Hina
Haris, Madiha and Ikram
8 MAY 13-19 2012
Anoushey Ashraf and Hissam
Nida, Wasif, Khateeja and Nauman Mansoor
PHOTOS COURTESY VERVE
Ursula and Sonia
17 MAY 13-19 2012
Mr and Mrs Qasim Yar Tiwani
Natasha Saigol
Maria B and Tahir Saeed
Pakistan Fashion Design Council holds the fifth Sunsilk Fashion Week in Lahore
Meera, Humaima and Reema
Ammar Belal and Mahira Khan
10 MAY 13-19 2012
Nickie and Nina
Hadiqa Kiyani
Juggun Kazim
Khadija Shah and Jahanzeb Amin
PHOTOS COURTESY FAISAL FAROOQUI AND THE TEAM AT DRAGONFLY
PEOPLE & PARTIES
17 MAY 13-19 2012
PEOPLE & PARTIES
Beenish Haji
Amin Gulgee and Mehr Fatima Salajee
Saira and Nazli
Mona Jilani and Tina Ahmad
Maliha Bhimjee
12 MAY 13-19 2012
Saira Saigal
Aalia Bux
Tara Uzra Dawood and Saira Munir Siddiqui
Ayesha Siddiqui
Fatima Amjad
PHOTOS COURTESY THE ART OF....PUBLIC RELATIONS
Tara Uzra Dawood hosts a tea party at her residence in Karachi
MAY 13-19 2012
PEOPLE & PARTIES
Somaya Adnan
Nabila Murtaza and Ayesha Naveed Ellahi
Sofia Lari
PHOTOS COURTESY VOILA PR
Brands Just Pret holds a multi-designer exhibition, Fashionville 4, in Karachi
Sara Taseer, showcases her spring collection jewellery, Garden of Eden, in Singapore
Anne Goh and Sara
14 MAY 13-19 2012
Gilbert and Rasina
Melissa Wee
PHOTOS COURTESY SAVVY PR AND EVENTS
Linda and Jenny
MAY 13-19 2012
PEOPLE & PARTIES
Lubna Elahi
Maham and Nazish
Eram Yasir
PHOTOS COURTESY SAVVY PR & EVENTS
Designers from Karachi exhibit their work at Designers Lounge in Dubai
Dolmen Mall hosts a Sunday brunch in Karachi
Shaista Wahidi
Hira
16 MAY 13-19 2012
PHOTOS COURTESY VOILA PR
Mehvish and Seema
MAY 13-19 2012
PEOPLE & PARTIES
Angie Marshal and Zurain Imam
Vaneeza launches her summer lawn prints in Karachi
Tara Uzra Dawood
Huma
Guest
18 MAY 13-19 2012
Mohsin Sayeed
Vaneeza Ahmad Ali
PHOTOS COURTESY LOTUS PR AND EVENTS
Sumeha Khalid with her son and Nadia Rafi
MAY 13-19 2012
COVER STORY
Larger than life
While most people flee from the scene of a bomb attack, there are others — the unsung heroes of this seemingly unending battle with terrorists — who march unafraid into the lion’s maw. Sometimes armed with little more than a pair of pliers and insurmountable courage, these men save the lives of untold hundreds with no concern for their own safety BY KIRAN NAZISH
20
Saleem Khan fiddled with his hands nervously while we had doodh patti at the Bajaur Hotel. Don’t be fooled by the name — it’s not some classy five-star joint but rather a dhaba surrounded by the treacherous hills of Fata. As he stared into the rapidly cooling cup of tea in his hands, I stared at his hand, noticing something odd: he was missing a finger.
wire I was on when the explosion took place, but I was almost
Just as I had almost given up hope that he would tell me his
he spoke, “Eleven young girls were killed, and so many were
story, he looked up and spoke: “I can’t remember exactly which MAY 13-19 2012
done defusing the bomb.”
I tried to make sense of what he had said, and he looked as
confused as I felt, but then he explained further. “There were
two bombs planted in this girls’ school, but we knew of just one.
While I was defusing this one,” he stretched out his hands, as if working on an invisible bomb, “there was an explosion from the other side.” His eyes grew wide and he leaned forward as
injured. I just lost one finger from the shrapnel.” He shook his
head, seeming disappointed at having lost ‘just’ one finger.
find any other means to support his wife and four-year-old son.
his time with the Peshawar Bomb Disposal Squad and once he
fond of what he did. In three years, he grew to become one of the
seems like a small thing to him.
In his short career, he defused more than 120 bombs until one
Saleem Khan, 45, has defused more than a hundred bombs in
starts telling his tale, it’s not hard to see why the loss of a finger
Many of his friends in the squad have lost an arm or a leg while
defusing bombs, but some have lost much more. Two of his best friends died in blasts while on duty — friends he had grown up
with. One of them, an eager young man called Mushtaram,
joined the Peshawar bomb disposal squad because he could not
He risked his life every day for a meagre salary until he grew
most talented technicians and an inspiration to his colleagues. day something went wrong and the resulting explosion claimed his life.
While the memory of his friend visibly saddens Saleem, it also
gives him the inspiration to come to work every day. Looking up
(Continued on page 24)
MAY 13-19 2012
21
COVER STORY from the nearly drained cup of tea, he tells me what Mushataram
concerns and issues. Most of them have severe problems in their
than to know that your job is to save other peoples’ lives.”
of them have suffered some kind of injury, and all of them have
used to say to him: “There is no greater satisfaction in the world As we walked out of Bajaur Hotel, Saleem promised to take me
to meet his late friend Rahim Khan’s 12-year-old son Mansha and his mother. Rahim had also been a bomb technician who lost his
life when militants fired on him as he was defusing a bomb they had planted.
The tragedy doesn’t end there: last November Mansha was out
with his mother, shopping at Peshawar’s Faqir Killey market.
lost friends and colleagues. Universally, they complain about a lack of training, of resources, and most of all, of recognition for the dangerous job they do.
Leading the discussion is their in-charge Major Shafkat Malik.
Since he joined the squad a few years back, he has lost eight experts out of a total of 35 — all of them died on the job.
“Two of them were very close to me,” said the major. “We
While Mansha’s mother was selecting the lace and gota (fabric used
would go for Friday prayers together and hang out with each oth-
had started in order to make ends meet after her husband’s death,
me, but it was these boys who kept me together with their cour-
to embellish traditional dresses) to use in the tailoring business she a bomb exploded in the market. Mansha’s mother was severely
wounded and can now only move with the help of multiple support instruments. Mansha himself, once a bright, talkative and talented kid, can no longer speak and seems to be lost in a world of
his own, refusing to respond to anyone or anything. The shock of
the blast coupled perhaps with the lingering trauma of his father’s death, has made him a prisoner in his own mind.
er afterwards. We were like family and losing them has shaken age and support,” he said, pointing towards the surviving members of the team. At many points, when the team lost someone, friends would face post-traumatic stress, break down into tears
or even leave the job, but the rest of them would manage to hold it together. “Most who left the job also came back eventually,” said Shafkat.
When the going gets tough, they have a ritual of sitting in a
When Saleem took me to Mansha’s home, the first thing I
circle and sharing their grief and try to get the stress out of their
Mansha before the blast. Seeing my interest his mother smiled
ing but it is cathartic at the same time to see your team by your
saw was a wall covered with sketches and drawings. All made by
and said, “If he could still do it, he would have sketched your por-
trait in about 20 minutes, right here.” Along with the drawings
system. “Yes, sometimes it gets very emotional and overwhelmside, sharing your sorrows,” said Shafkat.
Overwhelming. That’s the only word to use when describing
were pictures of him playing sports and a motley collection of
what these men go through. Almost all of them have had serious
dered then, if Mansha would ever sharpen his pencils or swing
seen their families walk out on them.
medals he got as his school’s youngest sports champion. I wonhis bat again.
Why this story is particularly painful for Saleem is because his
friend who had risked, and lost his life protecting others, could not in the end protect his own family.
For his part, Saleem has vowed never to get married. When I
ask him why, he responded in a sharp tone, “of course I would not want to contribute to the possibility of causing an innocent woman to become a widow, or a child to become an orphan.”
As I gear up to meet the rest of the Peshawar Bomb Disposal
Squad, I am warned by my facilitator that I shouldn’t expect
them to be very forthcoming. They aren’t used to talking to women, I am told, and certainly won’t be willing to discuss their own experiences and feelings. Even if they do open up, my facilitator
warns me, the language barrier will be formidable. To my sur-
fights with their spouses over their jobs, and many of them have “Our department is known as the EOD, standing for Explo-
sive Ordnance Disposal, but really it stands for ‘Every One’s Divorced’,” said Shafkat with a laugh. He would know, as he separated from his wife when she could no longer take the danger
and unpredictable timings of his job. “I’m not the only one,” he adds nonchalantly. “It’s very common for professionals in this
field to face domestic problems. One of my boys recently got divorced, and while many leave the job for something their families approve of, many others stay on.”
One of the oldest technicians in the team is Malik Khan, who
also handles the post-blast investigations. When I asked him what sort of bombs he cannot defuse, he replied instantly: “Suicide bombs!”
When there is a human element delivering a bomb, it’s much
prise, most of this is untrue.
more dangerous for various reasons. Suicide bombers are desper-
are dressed in simple shalwar kameez. “They don’t have any uni-
ence them physically or mentally.
They range from the fairly young to the middle-aged, and all
forms,” my facilitator tells me. Most of them speak only either
ate people; they’re usually brainwashed and it’s hard to influ“Suicide bombers have back up radio control, backup timers,
Pashto or Dari but some also know a smattering of Urdu, and it
and in the worst of situations, a third-eye,” said Malik. This
facilitator, that we manage to converse.
mission is compromised in any way, for example if the suicide
is through this lingua franca and the translation abilities of my
24
personal lives, all as a result of the nature of their jobs. Almost all
Scratch the surface, and you find that they all have the same
MAY 13-19 2012
‘third-eye’ is the handler who’s watching them, and in case the
bomber is interrupted by security forces, the handler will deto-
“Our department is known as the EOD, standing for Explosive Ordnance Disposal, but really it stands for ‘Every One’s Divorced’,” said Shafkat with a laugh EXPLOSIVE ORIGINS The term Improvised Explosive Device (IED) was originally used by the British Army in reference to the booby trap devices that were made by the Provisional Irish Republican Army (PIRA) during the ‘troubles’ in Northern Ireland. These devices utilised Semtex, which up until recently was very difficult to detect, and agricultural fertiliser as their explosive components. The Provisional IRA were not, however, the first organisation to use IEDs. IEDs have been around for hundreds of years. In World War 2 Belarussian guerrillas used IEDs against the Germans to derail thousands of German trains. IEDs were also used by the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War. Nonetheless, the Provisional IRA took the IED to a level of technical sophistication not seen before. Devices featured anti-handling technologies such as micro-switches and mercury tilt switches, which detonated the device if it was moved. Advanced safe arm mechanisms were also featured on IRA IEDs, which armed the device at a set time after it was placed. Later devices could be detonated by remote control and when the British Army developed jamming devices, the Provisional IRA responded by incorporating pulsed radio code based arming and detonation technologies into their devices. Source: http://www.defenceindustryreports.com/ieds_ learning_from_history.html MAY 13-19 2012
25
COVER STORY
“The moment you step towards the bomb, your senses sharpen. Yes, there is fear at the back of your mind, of an explosion, or of a hand grenade thrown at you — which has happened at times — but with time and experience you learn to tame that monster.” nate the device remotely. Therefore, the smartest way to deal with a suicide bomber is to use lethal force.
But Malik says that that is also not a sure bet because “if they’re shot, some-
times there is a backup timer that will run down and detonate anyway.” Lost in
thought for a moment, he adds, “I have heard of technicians physically going in
there and neutralising the device on a bomber jacket, but we have never done that here.”
One would think that the very act of walking towards a live bomb would be
terrifying to the point of being paralysing, but technician Hukum Khan says otherwise.
“The moment you step towards the bomb, your senses sharpen. Yes, there is
fear at the back of your mind, of an explosion, or of a hand grenade thrown at
you — which has happened at times — but with time and experience you learn to tame that monster.”
The moment a bomb disposal expert steps into the zone (the expected blast
radius), he has to be careful of threats from anything that looks out of place. Sometimes, there are additional roadside bombs or a car that’s randomly parked
WEAPON OF CHOICE Suicide bombers and IEDs have become the weapons of choice for Pakistan’s militants. The designs of the IEDs range from rudimentary to state of the art, but most use readily available materials. Pressure-cooker bombs and nail bombs have become the favourite tools of the Pakistani Taliban, who introduced them in the Swat Valley and then extended their use to other parts. At one point pressure-cookers and nails went out of stock in Swat because the Taliban had bought them all out. While pressure cooker bombs are considered the most dangerous, explosives contained in buckets, cans and pipes have also been used to target security 26 24 forces, civilians and buildings alike. MAY 13-19 2012
— if it has a bomb in it, it’s weighted down from the axles.
The greatest danger is when the technician is not equipped with the exact
tools needed for a specific bomb. Hukum explains, “Sometimes, you need to get a resupply of equipment and going back to the bomb site and figuring it all out can be very pressurising and stressful.”
He also pointed towards the lack of proper equipment for technicians. “Only a
few years back we were so under-equipped that the only tools we had were a pair of pliers,” he laughed. “Thankfully, now we have better technology, yet it is still not sufficient for a place where bomb threats come on a daily basis.”
The department has been struggling to get better equipment, uniforms and
training for the staff, but the government keeps ignoring their requests. “There
have been a few developments as I brought up the issue internationally, but it is important to not overlook a few crucial requirements including insurance, and an increase in their salaries,” said Shakfat.
Still, there may be some light at the end of the tunnel. When I returned to
Lahore I met Peter K Jepsen, who was sent to Pakistan as a trainer for the use
of bomb disposal robots by the European Union. Peter, a bomb disposal techni-
cian himself, represents a Global Defense System Group that handles specialised
CREATING A KILLER — what goes into an IED 1. A power supply, often provided by car batteries or alkaline flashlight batteries 2. A trigger, switch or some other direct or indirect means of setting the device off, such as a radiosignal, trip wire, timer or firing button that someone presses. A common form of remote trigger is a cell phone, cordless phone, radio or garage door opener activated by someone who is watching. 3. A detonator, a small explosive charge that sets off the main charge. Detonators are usually electrical, like those used for explosions in construction. 4. A main charge, the primary explosive that’s the big guns behind the blast. Unexploded landmines fit the bill. 5. A container to hold everything together. The container may be designed to force the blast in a specific direction. Additional components packed in the device may include projectiles for shrapnel, such as ball bearings, nails and stones, as well as hazardous, toxic or fire-starting chemicals. IEDs may also be used as the explosive part of a biological or radioactive dirty bomb. Source: http://science.howstuffworks.com/ied.htm
equipment, support training programmes for the army and law-
ing bomb disposal. Remote reconnaissance robots have also been
batch of bomb disposal technicians at the Central Police Training
sist the disposal technicians.
enforcement agencies. Peter had just finished training the first Academy, right outside of Lahore, when I caught up with him.
“My team and I are delighted to donate machinery and train
these Pakistani technicians, who seem larger than life to me
now,” said Peter, who travels through Europe, Middle East and
Asia to train bomb technicians with robotic and other automated
donated to bomb disposal teams in Pakistan and are meant to asThe government needs to work more closely on the provi-
sions of the department and encourage training programmes for technicians. Members of the bomb disposal squad are on call 24 hours, under-paid and unrecognised by the public at large.
Every time a bomb is defused, hundreds of lives are saved but
technology. “They are intelligently responsive during the train-
sadly the credit is hardly ever given to these unsung heroes and
He said it is important for technicians to be trained not just
otherwise doles out on a regular basis. It’s particularly telling
ings and can do a wonderful job if regularly trained.”
in the use of technology but also on the psychological aspects of
their jobs. “Psychological training and moral boosting is priority training for bomb technicians around the world, but seems absolutely absent in Pakistan,” he said.
Peter was training the batch in how to use a brand new High-
none of them have ever received the awards the government
that when I first spoke to Saleem he was surprised to hear that I wasn’t looking for statistics but instead wanted to know how he felt about his job. No one had ever asked him that before, he said with a sad smile.
*Some names have been changed to protect identities.
27
Mobility Car, a robotic technology which would assist them dur-
MAY 13-19 2012
FEATURE
a woman of
substance As Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa police fights its fierce battle against militancy, women officers stand shoulder-toshoulder with their male colleagues. Some, like Shazia Gul, pay the ultimate price for their courage BY MAHWISH QAYYUM
Her family was fully aware of the perils of the job, but for them her wish to die for the country was enough reason to pledge all their support. And die in the line of duty, she did. Shazia Gul, 25, became the
first policewoman to die in the ongoing fight against militancy
in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa when she was killed in a bomb blast on
May 10, 2011, in the cantonment city of Nowshera, about 35 kilo-
blast occurred as Shazia inspected the bag of a woman passenger of the van.
Shazia was born in Pir Piyai, a small village in Nowshera Dis-
trict, in 1986. Her father Sher Dad Khan was a retired army officer who had fought in the 1965 and 1971 wars.
“It was my husband’s wish that Shazia become a police officer,”
meters (22 miles) east of provincial capital Peshawar.
Shazia’s mother, Najma Bibi, says.
and Sessions Court in one of the province’s largest cities, killed
ther’s gallantry and patriotism. “Pakistan is our homeland and
The one-kilogramme bomb, which went off outside the District
her, a police constable and an unidentified passerby on the spot.
According to police records, 10 others were wounded. The bomb
An apt profession, it seems, for Shazia had inherited her fa-
we will live and die for it,” she would often say.
After she finished training in Hangu, she was recruited by the
had been planted in a canister at the main entrance to the court.
provincial police force on May 22, 2005, in Nowshera. Choosing
buildings, the court is considered vulnerable to militant attacks
about her work despite the dangers that came with it.
Situated close to several military installations and government
and therefore secured by dozens of policemen who stop passersby
a vocation women are rarely allowed to, Shazia was enthusiastic This was due in no small part to the upbringing she received at
at checkpoints and give them pat-downs.
home and her fervent belief in the nobility of her mission. “I’m
was another day in her strife-torn town. The police had stopped
braced martyrdom for her country and set an example for others,”
For Shazia, who attentively stood guard outside the court, it
30
a van for a routine security check in the court’s parking lot. The
MAY 13-19 2012
proud of my daughter. She was a woman of courage who em-
“I knew the perils of her job but I never asked her to leave because she wanted to live and die for others. And Allah fulfilled her wish,” says Fayyaz says Najma, as she wipes tears.
to tell. The wave of terrorism that has engulfed the country, shat-
league Rozeena remembers Shazia as a kind person who never
hardest. Thousands have lost loved ones and, because of the very
As fearless as she was, Shazia was also considerate. Her col-
fought with anyone.
Shazia, who had been married barely two years, left behind her
nine-month-old son Zainullah and her visibly heartbroken but
tering peace and destroying families, has hit this province the nature of their work, law enforcers have borne the brunt of the attacks.
But these militants, who have wreaked destruction in the name
proud husband Muhammad Fayyaz.
of religion, have failed to sway the common man in Khyber-Pak-
perils of her job but I never asked her to leave because she wanted
in the province.
“She was very brave and very caring,” Fayyaz says. “I knew the
to live and die for others. And Allah fulfilled her wish,” he says,
htunkhwa. The belief that terrorists have no faith is widespread
“Their only agenda is to spread devastation and destruction,”
breaking down.
says Najma. “The Quran teaches us that killing one human being
her daughter who broke societal barriers, fighting more than just
are brutally killing innocent men and women, especially police
Shazia’s mother embodies the courage that explains why it was
gender discrimination on the job.
Her daughter isn’t the only sacrifice this mother living in the
eye of the storm has made. In 2009, she lost her son Misri Khan,
an employee of the paramilitary Frontier Constabulary force, who was killed in an attack in Ghallanai, Mohmand Agency.
In Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, every other family has a similar story
is equivalent to killing the whole of humanity, but these people personnel.”
Shazia now rests in her ancestral graveyard in Charbagh village. A courageous officer, an obedient daughter, a loving wife and
a caring mother, Shazia’s sacrifice is emblematic of the valour of police officers in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa who are determined to defeat the plague of militancy, come what may.
31 MAY 13-19 2012
FEATURE
my own personal
Manto
A tribute to Saadat Hasan Manto from across the border BY RAKSHA KUMAR
The narrow, brown pagdandis slice through the thriving green wheat fields as they stretch up to the orange-hued horizon. A restful wind blows and the wheat crops sway merrily. Somewhere in the distance a leisurely rendition of ‘Heer aakhdi jogiya ve jhooth bolle...’ fills the air with melody. And, hidden in the far corner, sitting on the stone walls of the only well in the village, is a man reading a book. He is lean but wears an ill-fitting white kurta, with thick black spectacles perched on his nose and a strand of hair falling carelessly on his forehead.
34 MAY 13-19 2012
This is how Samrala, Punjab, looks in my
dreams time and time again. The man I see is
up to his vast body of excellent work.
I wonder if his political incorrectness played
Saadat Hasan Manto.
a major role in that. In 1954, just a year before
ago in May of 1912, in a society filled with strife
minister of India Jawaharlal Nehru. “I heard
Manto was born in Samrala a hundred years
and discord. I always thought that the melan-
choly reflected on the wrinkles of his face, even though he was just 43 years old when he died,
showed the scars of societal wounds. To me, Manto was a ‘journalist-writer’, someone who took on the essential task of documenting historic events but in a style that would shake the readers’ conscience and drive the point home.
I was born 40 years after 1947, in the south of
India, where Partition was little more than a
his death, he wrote an open letter to then prime one of your speeches on the radio at the time the country was divided,” he wrote. “Everyone admired your English. But when you broke into
so-called Urdu, it seemed as though some rabid Hindu Mahasabha member had translated your English speech, which was obviously not to
your liking. You were stumbling on every sen-
tence. I cannot imagine how you agreed to read it aloud.”
Manto’s ego as a writer was never hidden.
news story. His short stories told me more about
In his Letters to Uncle Sam, where he not only dis-
history textbooks. His stories talked about the
fully contrasts the situation with the riches of
life in British India and the Partition than my lives of Kalwant Kaur, Esher Singh, Mozail and Sirajuddin — the common folk and how they lead their lives. The sincerity in his stories stood out, and I guess, pricked only those people who were guilty of letting our society decay. “If you
find my stories dirty, the society you live in is dirty. With my stories, I only expose the truth,” Manto had once said.
With hindsight, I can perhaps understand
why Manto managed to draw everyone’s ire
and criticism. As many literary scholars have
noted, Manto was a man who was way ahead of his time. For instance, when he craftily writes about sexual intercourse and ejaculation using the metaphor of a game of cards in “Thanda Gosht”, the world he was writing in was not
used to discussing or reading taboo issues in such forward terms. However, what saddens me is that even today, I cannot be sure that he
cusses the subcontinent’s condition but skilthe US, he says, “I used to be all India’s greatest short story writer. Now I am Pakistan’s great-
est short story writer.” In fact, the inscription
on Manto’s tombstone once used to read: “Here lies buried Saadat Hasan Manto in whose bosom are enshrined all the secrets and art of short
story writing. Buried under mounds of earth, even now he is contemplating whether he is a
greater short story writer or God.” Manto’s sister
thought, perhaps wisely, that others might not share the writer’s humour and had the tombstone replaced.
Such an ego, coupled with a few more years
of life for Manto, would have done the Bombay
film industry a great service. Even today, when you watch the drowsy version of Shikaar or Mirza
Ghalib, the films he wrote, you can see his brilliance in script writing.
In her autobiography Raseedi Ticket (Postal
wouldn’t be tried in court for obscenity as he
Stamp), Amrita Pritam recalls that her child-
from the perspective of a woman or have a wom-
I always thought of Manto as my ‘Ranjan’ — a
was then. Many of these short stories are either
an as the main character. This was close to being blasphemous in a male-dominated society.
Despite his deftness with words and clarity of
expression, Manto’s fame doesn’t quite match
hood fantasy man was an imaginary Ranjan. man who was articulate, sensitive, creative and could invade my dreams without my consent.
Manto was right when he said, “Saadat Hasan
will die one day, but Manto will live on.”
35 MAY 13-19 2012
STYLE
combining
coiffure and couture
Drawing analogies between hair and couture craft this summer season are L’Oréal Professionnel, the Parisian house of hairdressing, and leading stylist and L’Oréal Pakistan’s creative consultant Nabila. To celebrate its 100-year-plus collaboration with hairdressers, L’Oréal Professionnel brings to Pakistan a first-of-its-kind style show, ‘SOMPUTEUX’. The collection tells a wonderful story of the creation of textiles and exceptional fabrics while drawing parallels between haute couture and hairdressing. “The collection draws inspiration from the rich her-
itage of craftsmen to create a collection that celebrates the link between couture and beautifully crafted hair. While the philosophy is the French haute couture,
this event showcases the local interpretation of the
same adapted for Pakistani women,” adds Sadia Shah, business unit manager for Professional Products Divi-
36
sion, commenting on the collection. Since the brand’s MAY 13-19 2012
“The collection draws inspiration from the rich heritage of craftsmen to create a collection that celebrates the link between couture and beautifully crafted hair. While the philosophy is the French haute couture, this event showcases the local interpretation of the same adapted for Pakistani women,” says Sadia Shah
central belief focuses on hair as the fashion accessory
of today, worn to reflect the personality of an individual, it constitutes the central theme of the collection. The very philosophy of ‘SOMPTUEUX’ is to renew
the original link of art and artisan, material and
maker. Nabila interprets this connection as presenting “hair as a source of inspiration for the hairdresser who uses different methods to create something
beautiful just as a designer would do with fabric.” She adds: “Extensive research went into understanding
the craft side of fabric and I was amazed at the similarity that goes into making fabric and hairdressing.”
Overall, the collection aims to pay tribute to hair-
dressers who work with hair as a material full of possibilities. “Working on this collection has been a learning experience — I had the opportunity to work
closely with the art and design department at Indus Valley [School of Art and Architecture, Karachi] and
that brought forward an amazing synergy and pollination of innovative ideas,” concludes Nabila, exuber-
37
antly recalling her experience.
MAY 13-19 2012
REVIEW
something borrowed, something blue BY ZARRAR KHUHRO
A frequent criticism of Ahmed Rashid’s books is that if you’ve read one, you’ve pretty much read them all. That’s kind of what I felt when going through his latest offering Pakistan on the Brink. For those of us who have monitored the regional situation, the book reads like a compilation of opinion pieces and new events that anyone who had a TV set or an internet connection would already be privy to. Little that is new is present either in terms of revelations or informed comment and this is clear simply from taking a look at the footnotes, most of which are simply references to public domain news items or Rashid’s own writings. Still, as a primer meant primarily for a Western audience eager to learn the ‘truth’ of the situation in this benighted corner of the world, I suppose it serves the purpose. There are other issues as well. Without subscribing to the various lame-brained conspiracy theories surrounding the circumstances of Osama’s killing in Abbotabad, I do have to point out that the eagerness to swallow the US version of events does not behoove someone of Rashid’s clear intellectual faculty. The details of the operation, from the entry of US copters into Pakistan to Osama’s apparent sea burial are taken as gospel truths for no other reason than that they were reported as such in Western media and US government briefings. While this is understandable given the lack of another credible version of events, the passage could have benefitted from the addition of a line stating that this is simply the version of events as narrated by the US. Given that subsequently leaked emails by the private intelligence form Stratfor have cast some doubt on whether Osama does in fact sleep with the fishes, the omission is embarrassing to say the least. Another clear error is the mention of Major Nidal, the Fort Hood shooter, in the same breath as Faisal Shehzad and Najibullah Zazi when Rashid makes the case that the Pakistani Taliban are now more dangerous in terms of providing support to international terrorists than their Afghan counterparts. While Zazi and Shehzad were clearly linked to the TTP, Nidal was a protégé of Yemen-based Awlaki. And Sanaa is a long way from Miranshah. There’s more: the men Raymond Davis shot were ‘trying to rob him’ while the Salala attack was an ‘accident’. Barring the men directly involved in these incidents, I really don’t think any of us have the information to make such statements of fact. To Rashid’s credit however, this time around he is unsparing in his criticism of just about everyone involved in the Afghan quagmire, from Obama and the ‘infighting’ US administration, to Pakistan’s ‘paranoid’ security establishment and venal civilian lead-
38 MAY 13-19 2012
ers to India and of course the Afghans themselves. The book ends with the expected exhortations for Pakistan to get its act together, something that is clearly necessary, but stops short of advising any of the other involved parties to do the same. While this is understandable given the title of the book, the fact that Rashid has already clearly stated that only a joint approach to resolving the Afghan issue can succeed, the lack of admonishment for the other power players seem odd to say the least. T
REVIEW
subtlety in times of high drama BY MAHVESH MURAD
“I have never stepped into an akhara or spoken to a professional wrestler,” confesses writer Musharraf Ali Farooqi talking about his new book Between Clay and Dust. “[A]ll my knowledge of pahalwans and the pahalwani culture is from books,” he says, though that is hard to believe considering the perfectly textured nuances of his new novel. In an “effort to imagine a man’s relationship to physical power and self-control”, Farooqi has written a thoughtful and emotionally articulate story about people whose lives are changing beyond their control. Between Clay and Dust is about a wrestler and a tawaif, about two art forms that no longer hold the glory they once did. Set somewhere suggestive of post-partition Punjab, albeit in an area left ‘unscathed’ by ‘the ravaging winds of Partition’, the narrative is quiet, thoughtful and centred: no references to current trends of South Asian Literature here, for Farooqi is clearly not interested in them. “Human emotions and human relationships have a universality to them,” he says, choosing to focus instead on the microcosms of Ustad Ramzi’s akhara and Gohar Jan’s kotha. Both Ramzi and Gohar Jan are heads of their ‘clans’, both have had their worlds shaken by the ‘abolition of the princely states whose nawabs and rajas had traditionally patronized’ these arts, and both are struggling to accept their own limitations as they age. Ramzi must hand over duties to his younger brother and Gohar Jan must eventually shut down her kotha. But the story of Between Clay & Dust is more Ustad Ramzi’s than Gohar Jan’s; she is his perfect foil, the archetype of the whore with a golden heart whose every action reminds the reader that there are reams left unwritten about her. In fact, the same can even be said about Ustad Ramzi’s character. Though Ramzi is far more developed than Gohar Jan is, Farooqi’s treatment of all his characters is sensitive and subtle. This is a story of uncertain, unfulfilled relationships and lives where what is not said and not done is as important, if not more, than what has been said and done. The tone of the novel is reminiscent of folklore stylistics, as is some of Farooqi’s earlier work as well, such as The Amazing Mustaches of Moochlander the Iron Man. With this particular folkloric narrative, Between Clay & Dust retains a constant sense of a quiet unfamiliarity, never burdened with turgid prose even when there is high emotional drama involved. Farooqi has told a story in a setting that may be unfamiliar and even quaint, to an urban English reading population anywhere in the world. Will Between Clay & Dust make as much of an impact in a world tuned in to high drama? It should, because as Farooqi ex-
40 MAY 13-19 2012
plains: ‘the experience of the emotional life of a character is always eminently accessible to readers from other cultures if a writer is able to express it in his work …I do not feel that I have to make the caricature of a character and his or her emotional life to make that character understandable to a global reader.’ And with Between Clay & Dust, he does just that.
END OF THE LINE
Are you capable of drawing a straight line? Do you have a comic or doodle that you think will have us rolling on the floor with laughter? If you’ve answered yes to all those questions then send in your creations to magazine@tribune.com.pk
42 MAY 13-19 2012
http://www.facebook.com/secretachaarsociety