The Express Tribune Magazine - November 25

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NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

Cover Story

20 Goonda Raj We explore the real-life characters behind the goonda and gandasa era of Lollywood

Comment

28 Sohni Dharti The rise of the Lollywood goonda did not go unchallenged

30 Ads, Afridi and Aspiration All we really want is for Afridi to hit another six

Feature

33 Being YBQ Saadia Qamar travels to the Commune Artist Colony to ask the most important question of all: Who is YBQ?

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36 Oar-inspiring Meet Tariq’s Angels and Cherub, one of Pakistan’s top women’s Masters teams

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Regulars 6 People & Parties: Out and about with Pakistan’s beautiful people 40 Reviews: Nicolas Cage’s daughter is... stolen? 42 End Of The Line: Baby steps

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Magazine Editor: Zarrar Khuhro, Senior Sub-Editor: Farahnaz Zahidi, Sub-Editors: Mifrah Haq, Ameer Hamza and Dilaira Mondegarian. Creative Team: Amna Iqbal, Jamal Khurshid, Essa Malik, Maha Haider, Faizan Dawood, Samra Aamir, Sanober Ahmed. Publisher: Bilal A Lakhani. Executive Editor: Muhammad Ziauddin. Editor: Kamal Siddiqi. For feedback and submissions: magazine@tribune.com.pk Printed: uniprint@unigraph.com



PEOPLE & PARTIES

Afreen Shiraz holds an eid fiesta at Ellemint Pret in Karachi

Tina Amin

PHOTOS COURTESY IDEAS EVENTS PR

Amina, Afreen and Sofia

Sumeha Khalid

Aasia Wasay and Sarah Yasir

Shaheen

Ayesha Mona and Nosheen

6 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

Rushna


NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


PEOPLE & PARTIES

Abeer

PHOTOS COURTESY CATALYST PR AND MARKETING

Mahnur

Sana Hashwani and Safinaz Muneer

Aesthetics International addresses the issue of breast cancer in Karachi

Maria Wasti

Tania

Mannal

Naveen Amna, Arham, Irsa and Nighat

8 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


Aden and Rehan

PHOTOS COURTESY BILAL MUKHTAR EVENTS AND PR

PEOPLE & PARTIES

Shireen and Sadia

Hardees and Super Asia Group hold the premiere of Skyfall at Cinestar Cinema in Lahore

Marium Saqib

Rabia Butt

Noman and Fariha Pervaiz

Maria B and Tahir Usman Ahraf and Mehek

10 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


Khadija and Ubaid Khan

Imran Haider and Shabnam Haider

12 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

Sadia

Fashion Avenue holds its Fashion Fair in Lahore

Saman and Arif Jalil

Mr and Mrs Qureshi Natasha

PHOTOS COURTESY VOILA PR

PEOPLE & PARTIES


NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


PEOPLE & PARTIES

Afsheen

Umama

Farzana Faiz

Mahwish and Aliya

Muneera and Nida

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PHOTOS COURTESY LOTUS

Nida Azwer holds an open house for eid at her design studio in Karachi

Shahnaz Ramzi NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

Mehreen

Almoona


NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


PEOPLE & PARTIES

Ayyan

Marjan and Sarah Sana Usman

Lal’s Patisserie opens up in Karachi

Nabeel Jaffer and Ayesha

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Ayesha Omar NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

Sidra Iqbal

Neeshay Rabbani

PHOTOS COURTESY CATALYST PR AND MARKETING

Frieha Altaf and Cyra Ali


Madiha Sultan

Faiza Lakhani and Tasneem Merchant

Cyra Paracha

Nazia Malik and Kiran

Lal Majid

Mir Raza and Fatima

Nabila

Sahar and Tariq Sultan Nadya Mistry NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

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PEOPLE & PARTIES

Mashaal, Ahsan and Beenish

Design house Nayna celebrates its ten-year anniversary in Lahore

Tehniat

Anum

Nighat and Arshad

18 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

Mehr Rafi

PHOTOS COURTESY BILAL MUKHTAR EVENTS AND PR

Kaukab and Amna

Sara Ali Pervaiz

Amna and Yasir


Sehar

Arif and Saman

Asma Khalil

Schehrezade and Sakina

Aliha and Nageen

Minahil and Neha

Adnan

Fatima and Zarrar

19 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012










COMMENT

The rise of the Lollywood Goonda did not go unchallenged BY KHURRAM ALI SHAFIQUE

“This is our misfortune: we are giving birth to a society where courage has come to be understood as being a goonda, and the nobility of character is seen as cowardice. Today, a blood-dripping gandasa has become the icon of our culture and civilisation, instead of the reed pipe emanating the melodies of love. Please think, what have we made of this beautiful land (sohni dharti) of Heer and Ranjha?”

but it reached unprecedented height when the character created

This question was raised thirty-two years ago by Pervez Malik

blood-dripping gandasa is a legitimate icon of our culture and ci-

and Masroor Anwar — members of the same team that had given the country its immortal national song, “Sohni Dharti”.

28

The glorification of crime and the presence of outlaws in the

world of literature and cinema may have started much earlier, NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

by writer and poet Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi appeared on screen in

Wahshi Jatt (1975) and Maula Jatt (1979). Hence the visionaries of the Sohni Dharti school of thought were compelled to raise a question,

and they did that through the movie Rishta, released on Septem-

ber 5, 1980. The lines translated above are taken from a dialogue of the protagonist in that movie, and constitute the central idea of the film.

Of course, an obvious answer to the question could be that the

vilisation because it depicts our social reality more than the reed

of Rumi and Ranjha. Qasmi, students of literature and the creators of goonda movies would perhaps unanimously agree on this point in spite of any differences in their respective social


backgrounds.

It is therefore important to re-

member those who dared to

from each other but they all define motherhood in terms of love, sacrifice and social responsibility.

The fundamental difference boils down to the fact that Pervez

differ from this point of view.

Malik and Masroor Anwar depict the human being as capable of

it was not sufficient to depict a

and the creators of goonda films agree, implicitly and explicit-

These visionaries believed that

problem but to also suggest the pos-

sible solutions. Through Rishta and a se-

ries of subsequent movies culminating in the

blockbuster Ghareebon Ka Badshah (1988), Pervez

Malik and Masroor Anwar evolved and depicted a

coherent social philosophy, addressing the relevant is-

sues from a holistic point of view.

Rishta was a story about family vendetta but ended in a climax

making choices based on principles. On the other hand, Qasmi

ly, that the human being is the prisoner of instinct and social conditioning. In the short story Gandasa, Maula is a creature of instinct. In the climax of the story, he temporarily stops taking revenge but that is because his instinct for revenge has been over-

come by some other instinct (and, once again, this new instinct is stirred in him by yet another woman, who has no other function in the story).

Divided by instinct and social conditioning, the educated and

which incorporated motifs from the incident of Karbala. The her-

the unschooled live in two parallels worlds in the imagination

whose husband had been assassinated by Shahbaz Khan (Meh-

Maula belongs together with his friends, family and enemies.

oine of the story was an old woman (played by Sabiha Khanum),

boob Alam) due to a family feud. Shahbaz had also sworn to elim-

inate his enemy’s entire bloodline (just like Maula in Qasmi’s short story). This eventually leads to a head-on clash between the well-armed mercenaries of Shahbaz and the poorly equipped sup-

porters of the old woman and her son, Rahat (played by Nadeem).

The woman tries to stop the battle, and gets mortally wounded

by Shahbaz. At this point, a few minutes before the ending, the audience learns the first name of this woman, who has been ad-

of Qasmi. One of these is the world of the unschooled, to which The other is the world of public servants, of which we are given brief glimpses through the police and judiciary. The unschooled

world of Maula seems to be alive with base instinct and various kinds of lust, and the distant world of the educated ones appears

to be impotent and lacking in any purpose. Creatures from these

two universes never unite and their interaction is based on apathy and mutual suspicion.

The world of Pervez Malik and Masroor Anwar is fundamental-

dressed throughout the movie by her title. Her name is Zainab.

ly opposed to this conception of the human beings. Regardless of

sassin. “Neither do I want retribution in the Hereafter,” she de-

principles, choose values, and by the virtue of these traits they

Mortally wounded, Zainab announces forgiveness for her as-

clares. “I forgive you in both worlds.” In a dying speech, she explains to Shahbaz that a better world cannot be created for future

generations unless we are prepared to offer some sacrifice today.

What she has sacrificed is her life and what she succeeds in eliciting from her enemy is the matching sacrifice of the enemy’s base

education, characters can rise above instinct. They can embrace may transcend the artificial divisions of social and educational

backgrounds. Ultimately, they can become masters of destiny, and not only change hearts but also alter the course of the future through the conscious sacrifice of personal interest.

This, then, is the conception of human being famously incor-

instinct and false ego. Zainab’s son Rahat and Shahbaz’s daugh-

porated into the second line of Sohni Dharti: “As long as the world

of Shahbaz to be united in marriage. This vindicates the belief of

dekhain aabad tujhay).

ter Saira, who love each other secretly, now receive the consent

Zainab that forgiveness and sacrifice on part of one generation

is there, may we see you prosper” (Jab tak hai yeh duniya baaqi, hum Whether we choose the philosophy of gandasa or the world of

leads to happiness and prosperity for the next generation.

Sohni Dharti is up to us. However, the choice cannot be made un-

hatred and vendetta, who never stopped nagging her son to spill

happily, willingly and consciously adopted the national song

Qasmi had depicted the mother of Maula as the instigator of

more blood and demanding that the entire bloodline of their en-

emy should be eliminated from the face of the earth (and this was the “literary” origin of the famous “mother” of Punjabi mov-

ies, whose shout is loud enough to be heard by her son miles away). Hence, the mother in Qasmi’s story becomes the proverbial “temptress” who causes man to commit the “original sin”.

Perhaps as a conscious rebuttal of this theory, Rishta offers three motherly characters (played by Sabiha Khanum, Nayyar Sultana

and Najma Mehboob), whose circumstances are very different

til we have learnt about both. It seems that every one of us has

‘Sohni Dharti’ as our collective identity. Yet, we have never bothered to find out anything about the poet who wrote it, the stories

he told, and the school of thought to which he belonged. This,

perhaps, is the correct answer to the question which he asked in 1980: Why has a blood-dripping gandasa become the icon of our culture and civilisation, instead of the reed pipe emanating the melodies of love?

Khurram Ali Shafique is the author of Iqbal: an Illustrated Biography

(2006) and offers online courses in Iqbal Studies for Iqbal Academy

29

Pakistan. khurramsdesk@gmail.com NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


COMMENT

&

art

afridi

aspiration Why do we want a ‘Boom Boom Batting Blitzkrieg’ when we know that it is inherently risky? The answer lies in our past BY AHMER NAQVI

30 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


Picture this scenario: Pakistan is batting and the match is at a crucial juncture. A wicket falls and in comes Shahid Afridi to bat. Minutes later, he walks away from the crease — he is either bowled out or caught in attempting a mindless shot. The exuberant fans among the spectators grow silent. The nation is outraged. Why do we get so disappointed by someone who’s repeated these very

antics for the past 16 years? Why do we get upset by the impulsive batting of someone who is now looking to establish himself as a serious bowler? The answer may lie in the past.

There was a time when we were in our anonymous-troll stage of global

politics. During this time, many of us would act in ways conforming to a

common behavior pattern among both the young and the old in the dish-

class. While everyone would intently be watching television (remember,

this was still a time when the numerical buttons on the remote were an

avenue into the rest of the world, which we viewed with awe and wonder),

there was this inevitable moment when we would all be drawn in a little

closer to the screen, completely spell-bound for 45 or so seconds, until some-

one would sigh and say, “Wese, yeh Indians ads barray zabardast banatay hain...”

Perhaps I am drawing this contrived analogy solely based on my own ex-

perience, but there can be no debate regarding the fact that Pakistan, at the time, was a pimply pre-teen desperate to get noticed.

Sure, we have ended up with a terrible reputation, but our repute has also

got this notorious swagger to it. Back then we were a country that a villain’s sidekick in a bad action movie would mention as a place where you got smuggled goods from. Now, we have become a crisis for the Western world.

So at a time when Pakistanis desperately sought a place for themselves in

the world, the quality of the Indian ads, and the innate ‘Indian-ness’ they

so boldly conveyed, left us convinced that all Indian advertisements were bound by a common agenda to represent their country and their people as some new-age cultural hybrid superpower.

Of course, Pakistanis always knew that, in reality, Indians weren’t worth

****.

We would repeat this ad-nauseam, using complex theories which, de-

pending on the civility of the conversation, ranged from ridiculing the hero worship of demigod Sachin Tendulkar and extolling the physical/mental/ sexual benefits of eating meat to condescendingly talking of the ministers who travelled in old-fashioned Ambassadors.

But somehow, these ads still made us uncomfortable — conveying

something that didn’t quite fit with our deprecating attitude towards the Indians. So we reasoned that those ‘chalaak’ Indians really knew how to sell themselves.

These were, after all, ads; their job was to sell.

Our ads of the time were simpler: we had ‘Farzana Davakhana’ and ‘Al-

Rauf Model City’ (sung in the tune of Jaati Huun Mei) and, of course, ‘Gaey

Soap’. For those of us who get these references, the ads are cultural artifacts, sources of nostalgia that we might cherish now. But as advertisements, they were mostly in the business of getting a lot of information across — or if slightly more sophisticated — get you to remember the

31

brand.

NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


COMMENT In contrast, Indian ads were weaving tales of urban adjustment

with the bat would put us off, or we would want snippets of video

on the accomplishment of the petite bourgeoisie through two-

cal celebration pose. Yet, even when his bowling and pose show

with rural tradition via electronic roti-makers, fashioning epics toned wall paints, and dishing out dance-numbers celebrating

gender empowerment and domestic bliss delivered by non-stick

frying pans. Advertisements were creating elaborate fantasies,

of his bowling action (that he is now much better at) and his typiup in an ad, they are invariably followed by a powerful knock over cow corner.

It’s not like the advertisers are closet Afridi fans, seeking to im-

and those of us with disposable incomes longed to be part of it.

pose a fantastical version of his talent with the bat over the sober-

more space for ads on the airwaves. The mindboggling growth

the advertisers only want their product to sell by associating it

But over the years, the boom of Pakistani channels created

of telcos and the easy-money days of the banking sector meant that there were more products that needed to be sold, and the

old ways of marketing seemed redundant. Pakistani advertising finally came of age.

Today, Pakistani advertisers are picking up viral online videos

and doing parodies on them, or making film-noir references for

ing reality of his pitiful performances with it. Let’s not forget, with something that is desirable.

Is it true then that despite the reams of columns written to sav-

age him, and twitter streams calling for his head, and despite

the burning effigies and the irate radio show calls — we really, really want Afridi to play just the way he does?

I’m sure you have a smug ‘no’ waiting for me. I don’t blame you

made-in-China mobile phones. They are pushing the envelope

— denial is the first recourse for all of us.

quite exist.

ment he walks out, why do our fantasies collude with his fabled

sters who populate the mobile network ads. These groups man-

we would have formed a revulsion for these ads. But we haven’t.

and daring to create fantasies for ideas and societies that don’t My favourite example of this is the raucous groups of young-

age to pull off the holy troika of Pakistani jawani: the perfect ratio

of the number of guys and girls, dancing in groups with no awk-

ward launda displays of homoeroticism, and set in places where there is no need to bribe the police or station guards. To live this

But if we didn’t want Boom Boom to start swinging the mo-

hitting? I mean, if we really hated him batting the way he does, Hence, it leads to the next question: why do we not? Why do

we long to see a ‘Boom Boom Batting Blitzkrieg’ that is inherently risky?

I’ll try to answer this one without resorting to any meandering

kind of hormone-fuelled, hair-gelled existence is a bit too far-

tangents, which means it doesn’t have a lot of nuance. I believe

sell.

the big innings coming off of it. Sure, our cricketing tradition

fetched in a place like Pakistan — making it a perfect fantasy to But to make the incredulous sell, no matter how far from real-

ity it may be, is easy when a star is employed. That’s because a

genuine star, a bona fide celebrity, is someone in whom we unabashedly invest our fantasies and desires. The conflation of our desires evoked by the product being advertised and those that we

associate with the star leads to a desire nirvana — a perfect formula to sell.

Predictably, the one face you see the most in Pakistan selling

products is Afridi’s. And that tells us something very intriguing

that we love the idea of everything big, be it a hit with the bat or

boasts of many big hitters and we have historically revered our

fantastic bowlers. But we specifically want Afridi to hit that big

shot. We want to see someone so beautiful, so magnetic, and so

utterly flawed and impulsive to have that one leap of faith come

good. We want him to just go for the shot even when we know he’ll probably fail — because we know that if he does get it, and the one after that (and maybe a few more), all those times of misery and failure would have been worth suffering through.

Perhaps we are resigned to an absence of method, a lack of so-

about our national fantasies.

phistication and a want for improvisation in our own lives. We

it’s about skin whitening creams, motorcycles, bank accounts or

we are just as useless as the ones we condemn. And we know

In just about every advertisement that features Afridi, whether

chewing gum, the money shot — the moment when the use of

the product is related to success — always shows ‘Boom Boom’ going for the big hit.

It seems to make sense, until you actually think about it. If

know that despite our finely articulated programs for progress, that despite protestations to the contrary, we enjoy the idea of courage, of risk, and of rash impetuousness — if not in ourselves, then in someone we can invest our fantasies in.

Yes, we want the war to be owned and for the war to end, and

we were drawn to these ads solely based on Lala’s looks (Afridi’s

yes, we want to get rid of corruption and understand patronage,

ogle at him for longer without needing to be lured by his batting.

ers, but ultimately, in our wildest fantasies, all we really want is

sexuality is dangerously transcendental), then we would gladly If we were in it for cricket, then his persistent recklessness

32 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

and yes, we want to educate our daughters and honor our mothfor Afridi to hit another six.


FEATURE

being

Photographer, designer, artist...who is the real YBQ?

YBQ

Before I could get into Yousuf Bashir Qureshi’s head, I had to first get to, and into, the Commune Artist Colony. Neither task was easy. I really didn’t know much about Yousuf Bashir Qureshi, except

that he’s quite a colourful character who is usually referred to as

YBQ. I had just seen him thrice before: once last year at a fashion week, some years back at one of the Lux Style Awards Red Carpet,

BY SAADIA QAMAR PHOTOS BY HASEEB ASIF

where he was walking around with Mathira, and then a couple of months back at the Asian Institute of Fashion Design, giving a lecture to students on how to be good person, rather than (as you may have expected) a good fashion designer.

So, in the interest of not seeming foolish, I decided to ask a

true fashion industry ‘insider’ the all-important question: Who is YBQ?

NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

33


FEATURE “YBQ is so many things, a fashion designer, a photographer, a

painter, the owner of the Commune. Basically, he’s a very, very

artsy character. Another fashionista defined him as the one person who “keeps fashion, photography and music very much alive here in Pakistan. And he does all this from the Commune.”

So one sweltering Friday afternoon, notes in hand, I ended up

visiting the Commune to see what he is really all about. After

navigating narrow alleys in a rickshaw, I finally ended up at a

gate designed to look like a huge Pakistan flag. This was the ‘jhanday waala gate’ (gate with the flag) the locals had told me to head towards.

Finding myself surrounded by warehouse-like structures I ini-

tially wondered if I had been misled, but then I saw designer Sa-

nam Chaudhri conducting a shoot with model Hira Tareen and I knew I was in the right place.

By now, at least one thing was clear about this man whom I

hadn’t yet met: that he is deeply inspired by Pakistan. It’s not just the flag-themed gate that made me reach this conclusion, but also the décor of the room I was seated in. Next to me was a

beautiful jhoola, and close to it a takht, both covered with a colour-

ful Sindhi Rilli. In one corner of the room was a poster of Zeba

Bakhtiyar’s film Henna, and in another, a painting of the Beatles. Before I could take in any more details, YBQ entered the room dressed in a black dhoti and a brown kurti.

“The best teacher is one who is himself a student for life,” he

says almost immediately. “I am not a trained artist, and I don’t

come from an art institute. Yeh aik kami rah gayi hay (This is one shortfall). But I learn from others; we all need to learn from others.”

Talking to YBQ, it immediately becomes clear that the malang

getup isn’t just for show. Here is a man with the soul of an artist, with more than a dash of Sufi thrown in.

“I believe we all have been given one quality of that great Su-

preme Power,” he says. How we use that power, of course, is up

to us. “When we use this strength to help others, it makes us superheroes. It’s a wasted life when you don’t do an honest job in doing the nicer stuff in life.”

It’s an attitude like this that makes people think that he’s

some kind of faqir who’s not serious about life. That’s an accu-

sation he vehemently rebuffs. “I want people to know that I’m

actually very serious about life. It’s my last vacation, after all! Honestly though, we have so much to thank God for, from fruits, trees and landscapes to beautiful people we look at!”

Just being alive and living in this world is a luxury, he says,

and that alone is enough to be thankful for.

So what then does YBQ really want, if worldly goods mean so

little to him?

“Love and respect,” he answers immediately. “It’s what every

34

human desires for himself and from others around him.”

And then, just when I think I’ve figured out how he thinks,

NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


“I want people to know that I’m actually very serious about life. It’s my last vacation, after all!

he says to me, “I don’t think much. I just feel. I believe there is

a conflict within every human, that’s what’s called living. I, for

one, really want to understand myself. Hence I disconnect myself, dissect, break away from it, and then re-connect only to understand myself better.”

Right about that time, two steaming cups of lemon grass tea

arrive, and as he passes me my cup, he continues talking, “I have

never really been impressed by people. Or actually, I’m only impressed by those who work hard or are humble in their approach.

For some odd reason I don’t get along with arrogant people and

racist types. After all, burai kyun hai zamaanay mein? Achhay admi ki

khamoshi ki waja say (Why is there evil in these times? Because of the silence of the good people!)!”

That’s one of the reasons, he says, he set up the Commune

Artist Colony. It was an attempt to create a spot of light where

everyone, from local musicians to unknown artists, could get together; a place where people can come together in a city tearing itself apart.

“We, as a people, don’t tend to mix with people of other castes,

creeds and backgrounds,” he says. “That’s our mentality. But here I have had the splendid opportunity of meeting Sardars of Balochistan, Nawabs of Kalat and so many others!”

And here we find the one thing that YBQ truly hates: division. “There is no inter-faith harmony amongst us,” he says. “Look

at God, He is pure love and all He teaches us humans is to love another. Islam is all about freeing humans, creating equality and having us love one another. It’s all about one single life breath.”

Dismissive of the rat race and the simple measuring out of life

in proverbial ‘coffee spoons’, he complains that we never actually

stop to reflect on what we have. Instead we keep chasing mirages of success that we never actually reach.

“Why is it that the number of years [we live] are important,

while it’s not important to cherish these moments while we’re still alive?” he asks.

As he pauses to reflect, I take the opportunity to ask him to

show me around the Commune. YBQ has effectively compartmentalised his life. In one corner he paints, in another he has a

collection of cameras, elsewhere some outfits hang from a shelf

and in yet another corner he has a bed, a small dining area and kitchen. A different corner for every incarnation, I think to myself.

From the main area of the Commune, we go to another sec-

tion to meet his darzis, karigaars, and barhai (tailors, craftsmen and

carpenters). After introducing them to me one by one, he takes me to meet the head of his PR team. As I say hello, YBQ remarks

in an off-hand way, “This guy sells me, he is basically my pimp.” And with that, my little sojourn to the haven that is the Com-

mune is over. I say my ‘thank you’s’ and emerge from this den of creativity to re-enter the dirty streets of Karachi.T

NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

35


FEATURE

oar—inspiring!

The sight of Karachi’s old landmarks and mangroves, and the undying spirit of women rowers from the Karachi Boat Club make for an unforgettable sojourn into the seas BY SAJIDA ALI PHOTOS BY HARRIS SHAHZAD

36 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


“Oars in the water, 90 degrees catch and row!” commands the coach. “Fixed seat rowing, full body lean, quarter seat, half seat, full seat! Row with 25 per cent power, 50 per cent power, full power! Kill yourselves! Balance! Timing, crew! Clear your oars! Kick power! Square your blades!” he fires. “Bow side pressure, now stroke side pressure! Set your pace! Check your puddles! Hold, catch, drive, finish, quick recovery and flick! No feathering! No crabbing! Control, crew!” It sounds like a re-enactment of Ben Hur’s famous rowing scene with the galley slaves: “Ramming speed! Battleship speed!” When we are close to collapsing, it becomes “Easy, crew. Good job! Back to the club. Light rowing.” So, who are ‘we’? We are Tariq’s Angels and Cherub. We row in

winter, summer and winter again, on weekends and weekdays.

We row for pleasure, practice and a purpose. We have friendly

races between ourselves (not so easy when we all want the same thing, but we manage) and club regattas (by the way, we fall in

the Masters category). We have warm ups and cool downs, we have drills and races; we row up to the Native Jetty Bridge and

then down to the Pump House, and stop at the Karachi Boat Club (KBC) after a few rounds. The Black Pontoon and the mysterious old Nusserwanji Sea Scouts Headquarters, now almost down to its knees, are milestones in trackless water. Sometimes we row along the six kilometre perimetre of China Creek, around the

in the water in those small shells. We would constantly be on

the watch out, afraid of colliding with another boat. We would backsplash so much that we would be soaked right through with dirty water in our eyes, ears, nose and throat. We would row into mudflats when we did not recognise the shallow water ripple effect and then would have to get off into the squelchy sludge to

retrieve the boat. Sometimes, we would be driven with the current into the mangroves and, sometimes, into the pillars under

the bridge. Some of us collided and capsized. Our hands would be covered with scratches, bruises, blisters and bandages as we

learnt to balance the oars. But, slowly and surely, we rose to the occasion.

Now it is sheer joy to command the boat, to make it change

nucleus of mangrove islands, with Boat Basin up ahead, and

direction with just a turn of the oar, to hear the gentle whoosh

bridge and the port, heading back to the club at the end. Once

a kick, to watch it glide across the water, and in the end, taking

then down the settlement of Gulshan-e-Sikandarabad along the

in a while, we would do a special unforgettable traipse into the Karachi Port waters.

We were just some random women coming to row and gym

when the oars dip in water and slice it, propelling the boat with

the boat back home to the club (which I can manage better than parallel parking!).

Simeen is our glue and organiser/facilitator/spokesperson;

at the KBC. Then entered Major (Retd) Tariq Shafi, with his pas-

we call her Momma, and she often brings us home-baked good-

next mission: a women’s Masters team. He recruited us from the

gritted teeth, I suspect — at the idiosyncrasies of laid-back sub-

sion to take on insurmountable challenges, and we became his

boats and the gym. If he hadn’t taken me on board, I would not have been rowing today the way I do.

Tariq brought us together in a team and gave us a purpose. He

inspired, enabled and empowered us to believe that we could row competitively and make up a national team (we won gold and silver at the Quaid-e-Azam National Regatta held this year in Islam-

abad). His passion pulled us out of bed and into the boats armed with sunblock, sunglasses, caps and ORS. Tariq rowed with us

and alongside us, sharing tips and tricks. He gave us our rowing, drill and gym circuit regimens and charts. He monitored our

progress on the erg (indoor rowers) and the boats. He filmed us

ies. Annabel, the rowing machine, manages to smile — through

continental life. Shehla goes for gold like a predator does for the jugular. The club resonates with her effervescent laughter. Sabi-

na, the layman, encourages and guides us with her experience.

Maliha has learnt from life to not sweat the small stuff. Aamir, the cheeky Cherub, lightens up the place with his humour. Har-

ris is our volunteer photographer; his outstanding shots make it

look like we row in the Amazon. With my oversized sunglasses and straw hat, I look more like a nature lover than a sportsman,

and can easily wander off on an exploration into the mangroves if left on my own.

I can’t help it, really. It’s the creek’s fault. You’ll feel that way

to point out areas of improvement. He paired and raced us. He

too if you see the fabulous early morning sunrise through the

intake of nuts, bananas and milk.

ted with mangrove thickets. From between the columns of the

briefed us on a sportsman’s diet, overseeing our early morning At first we were shaky and nervous. It was scary navigating

mist that glimmers on the sublime scene of China Creek dot-

bridge you get glimpses of Karachi Harbour. The water is alive NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

37


FEATURE

We would row into mudflats when we did not recognise the shallow water ripple effect and then would have to get off into the squelchy sludge to retrieve the boat. Sometimes, we would be driven with the current into the mangroves and, sometimes, into the pillars under the bridge with shoals of fish creating magical, shimmery and mesmeris-

terschool, national and international regattas. The events are or-

of bread thrown from over the bridge by sawab-seekers looking

volunteers from a wide range of industries, and supported by the

ing patterns just below the surface as they fight to devour loaves

to cleanse themselves of sins. When flying fish breach the wa-

ter right next to your little row boat, it’s as exciting as Atlantic

Managing Committee of the KBC.

While the seniors bring their skill, school children bring in

whale sightings.

fresh blood. Newcomers test the waters nervously while the old-

and migratory birds (gulls, coots, terns, pelicans, flamingos, os-

ing back. The School Rowing Programme has initiated a grow-

The mangroves are a sanctuary for over sixty species of resident

prey, waders, herons, egrets, stilts and cormorants) that wade

in the low tide and vie with fishermen paddling in the marshes with nets trawling for fish and shrimp: Nusserwanji crumbles like the mysterious castle of Shallot. “By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot

Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers”

Add some rainfall and monsoon winds hurling waves at your

boat and you’ll get the picture. That’s not to say it’s Olympic

ies smile and watch knowingly. They know there will be no turning number of students and schools into the sport, including

students from the Karachi Grammar School, Bayview Academy,

D.A. Public School, Habib Public School, The Citizens Foundation

School, The Lyceum School, SMB Fatima Jinnah School and the C.A.S. School. The fourth Inter-school Regatta, held this year, had more than 200 participants from 17 schools even though it

was restricted to only A teams. Through the School Rowing Programme, students have even gained scholarships to foreign colleges like Mount Holyoke and Notre Dame.

Rowing teaches you important life skills. It re-enforces the

standard. The creek is constantly under threat, and on bad days

spirit of teamwork, co-operation, sharing and caring. It teaches

bottles, the odd matka, bread, Styrofoam, plastic bags, clothes

ages you to reach up to those above you, and pull up those below

it looks and smells like a sewage drain. Footwear, used diapers,

and other such garbage sails down the creek. You can tell when

there’s been a holiday and people have flocked to the beach when their trash flows into the creek the next day. Sometimes you can

see blotches of oil/chemical and dead fish in their wake. Thankfully, Karachi’s winds soon send off the garbage on a tide to its

next unfortunate destination. Sewage and chemical waste have made the water toxic, but the creek continues to fight back.

Arif Ikram, the Master of Boats at KBC, keeps the show alive

and kicking. The coaches know everyone by name and train them

patiently. The khalasis (port workers) run the cycle of taking the

38

ganised by the Regatta Committee, which is a group of dedicated

boats out, launching them and bringing them back in smoothly.

The rowing calendar is booked chock-a-block with in-house, inNOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

you to help others and also to accept and ask for help. It encouryou. It trains you to watch out for signs of trouble, like mudflats, and avoid them. It teaches you that when other boats leave dirty

water that may topple your boat, you hang on to your balance and sit it out, and hence you survive without capsizing. On the

water you have to manage with what you have, whether you’ve

got a heavy or a light boat, the junior oars or senior oars, a rickety gate, loose seat or oversized shoes. You have to finish the course

as best as you can. It takes luck, skill and hard work to succeed, and even if you have all three, somebody else may win. You have to accept it and try again.

Above all, it teaches us the most important lesson: no matter

what happens, don’t stop rowing.



REVIEW

a mirror for the media BY BRIG (RETD) FAROOQ HAMEED KHAN

Should an anchorperson be an expert in diverse subjects ranging from politics, to law, to economics? If not, would he or she be able to ask pertinent and precise questions? What should the ultimate goal of the media be: building a well-informed public opinion or making it a financially viable business? These are some of the questions that Yasmeen Aftab Ali asks, and attempts to answer, in her book Comparative Analysis of Media and Media Laws in Pakistan. The fruition of years of research in the subject, it comes across as a handbook of sorts for Mass communication students to help them better understand media concepts and laws. Its overarching theme also deliberates upon the exercise of social responsibility by the Pakistani media and suggests steps to improve it. The book runs through the basic concepts and legislation pertaining to media in Pakistan before evaluating their effectiveness in practice. Ali lays her groundwork by first defining the concept of freedom of information, and then demonstrating the rights and limitations of this under Pakistani law. For better contextualisation, the author also gives a comparison with other countries’ media laws. In Pakistan, the author argues, a media organisation’s editorial policy is decided by the media owner, which very often gets overridden by concerns for increased ratings amid cut-throat competition. Ideally, this should be based on impartiality, fairness, accuracy and editorial integrity, with the objective of educating the masses and raising standards of information. She blames the electronic media in particular for this ‘ratings syndrome’ and deplores the trend of TV talk show hosts instigating petty bickering among interviewees rather than grilling them on policy matters. She calls on the electronic media to rise above the ‘me first’ mentality in breaking news, which often results in sensational, or sometimes less-than-accurate, reporting. The book is not just a critique of the state of Pakistani media; it suggests ways to improve their functioning. Her eleven proposals for Pemra and six questions for PFUJ seem logical and merit serious consideration by the stakeholders. She even suggests that the BBC’s revised editorial guidelines are a fitting model for Pakistani media organisations to adopt. It would have been interesting for the readers had the book contained some analysis of the implications of the recently formed Press Council of Pakistan, an autonomous apex body that would stipulate and monitor good media practices in the country. Where the author takes the media persons to task for their shortfalls, she also gives credit where it’s due. Ali pays tribute to journalists who report from increasingly hostile environments in Pakistan. But where the book falls short is in open-heartedly acknowledging 40 the role of media in supporting the rule of law, democracy and good NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

governance in the country. It was the media that, in the absence of robust state structures, exposed mega corruption scams in stateowned enterprises like Steel Mills, PIA, NICL and Pakistan Railways, and gave a voice to the common man. Though beyond the scope of the syllabus for which this handbook is intended, an analysis of journalists’ rights including their protection and welfare would have added to the variety of issues touched upon here. Nevertheless, Yasmeen Aftab Ali compellingly drives home her point that “We need an independent press, without pre-censorship, but we need rules that make a socially irresponsible journalist pay. Literally. Without the media realising its first and last responsibility lies to the society, it defeats the purpose of its very creation.” This book is a bold attempt to state the truth regarding Pakistani media in a candid and forthright manner, duly backed by authentic references. For this reason, it is expected to generate a healthy and vigorous debate regarding media affairs in the country, and hence is highly recommended for all stakeholders, including Mass Communication students and scholars, the journalistic community and media owners and regulators.


paranormal inactivity BY NOMAN ANSARI

Perhaps the only scary aspect of Paranormal Activity 4 is how shamelessly it apes its predecessors. From the narrative, to the pacing and the tired manner in which it unfolds its yawn-inducing attempts at frights, this supernatural horror film is an absolute snore fest. This is disappointing because the Paranormal Activity franchise at one point stood out in terms of creativity, but it now seems the mockumentary filmmakers have milked this cash cow to death. As usual, the scares come through the young siblings who are under the influence of a demonic entity. Here, the paranormal boy is Wyatt (Aiden Lovekamp), who makes an instant friend in the shape of the new neighbour’s son Robbie (Brady Allen). Through this friendship with Robbie, Wyatt learns that the two are biological brothers who got separated when younger. Robbie starts living with Wyatt upon his mother’s request, who is recovering from an unknown illness at the hospital. At this point Wyatt’s older sister Alex (Kathryn Newton) and her boyfriend Ben (Matt Shively) become very suspicious of Robbie’s creepy behaviour, especially after he introduces Wyatt to his invisible friend, who they slowly begin to see as an evil presence in the house. From here on the plot develops very predictably, making the film’s narrative feel like a carbon copy of its predecessors.

stolen steals no praise BY NOMAN ANSARI

At the end of Taken 2, I was convinced that it was the worst film ever, but I was wrong. Oh god, I was so wrong. Had I known that Stolen would be in my future, perhaps I would have been kinder to Taken 2 in my review. At least it starred Liam Neeson, who as internet memes will tell you, has trained both Jedi Knights and Batman. Yes, Liam Neeson is a man who plays the alpha male role fairly convincingly. When he says he will find you, you believe it — especially if you are Albanian. There are no Albanians in Stolen however, and neither is there Neeson. Rather, the film stars Nicholas Cage, whose hairline has regressed to the point where he looks like he is in the ‘before’ pictures of a hair transplant commercial. The years haven’t been kind to the rest of the aging star either, and in Stolen, playing the role of Will Montgomery, he simply doesn’t sell the action scenes he takes part in. Will is a thief who, after being double-crossed in a heist gone awry, is sent to prison for eight years. Upon his release, he’s ready

Also similar to previous instalments, Paranormal Activity 4 presents its video in the ‘found footage’ style, which was popularised by the cult horror classic, The Blair Witch Project (1999). Although the realism added by this style is a natural fit with horror films, my question is that if they keep finding these videos, where people end in gruesome deaths thanks to supernatural events, why isn’t someone doing something about it? In Paranormal Activity 4, the footage is mostly presented through laptop webcams and camera phones, including a number of scenes being shot through an Xbox Kinect 3D night vision camera which sits in the sitting room of the house. Unfortunately, the gimmicky Kinect camera shots add creatively little to these scenes and the device simply functions as a distracting piece of product placement. I have to say that I waited patiently for the frights in this film to surprise me, but sadly they never did, with the film even ending almost exactly the way Paranormal Activity 3 did. Yes, the franchise had one great trick in the ‘found footage’ style, but it is high time this pony went home.

to leave his criminal past behind, but his old partner believes that Will hid the loot from the last heist eight years ago and kidnaps Will’s daughter. Will now plans another heist to raise funds, all the while being hunted by the detective who had put him behind bars. Stolen has plenty of action sequences, though these are mostly dull and uninventive, and sometimes surprisingly sadistic. What’s more, the film slows down jarringly in between the action, ruining the tempo with needless exposition. That being said, the film does floor the pedal with some entertaining car chase sequences that feature some awesome car stunts. But the biggest flaw on display is the customary outlandish performance from Nicholas Cage, who has now become synonymous with dumb action films. Nicholas Cage at one point in his career gave some fine soulful performances, and the real pity here is that the only thing stolen is the actor’s passion for his craft.

41 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012


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 NOVEMBER 25-DECEMBER 1 2012

BY SHANI K




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