The Express Tribune Magazine - September 4

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

Apart from Ayaan, we’ve got an exclusive interview with Rahul Khanna, and the comeback of the New Kids On The Block!

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

Cover Story 18 Pakistan’s Next Top Model She’s here, there and everywhere! Will angelic Ayaan bag the top slot this year?

Feature 22 If you are drinking tea...

Adam Levinson lands in Bamiyan, raising the town’s Jewish population to...one 28 Voices from Libya Welcome to the endgame of the Libyan revolution 36 Back on Their Feet In the heart of bustling Karachi, the Artificial Limbs Centre gives hope to the hopeless

28

Comment 36 Boyz to Men Saba Khalid joins hordes of screaming fans at the NKOTB comeback concert

46

Green Thumb 42 Ra-Ra-Radishes!

The Mexicans revere them, the rest of us just eat them...now you can grow your own

Profile 46 The Son Also Rises Rahul Khanna opens up about what kissing Nandita Das is like.

Up North and Personal 44 Blinded by Power Zahrah Nasir laments the systemic exploitation on which our modern lifestyles depend

Regulars 6 People & Parties: Out and about with Pakistan’s beautiful people 54 Reviews: What’s new in books 58 Ten Things I Hate About: Pakistani Television

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Magazine Editor: Zarrar Khuhro, Senior Sub-Editor: Batool Zehra, Sub-Editors: Hamna Zubair and Dilaira Mondegarian.

Creative Team: Amna Iqbal, Jamal Khurshid, Essa Malik, Anam Haleem, Tariq W Alvi, S Asif Ali, Samad Siddiqui, Mohsin Alam, Sukayna Sadik.

Publisher: Bilal A Lakhani. Executive Editor: Muhammad Ziauddin. Editor: Kamal Siddiqi.

For feedback and submissions: magazine@tribune.com.pk 4

PEOPLE & PARTIES

SKF Pakistan held a fundraiser for flood victims at the Karachi Golf Club

r Ahmed

Captain Khalid Anwer and Mehreen Ilahi

Sumeha Khalid

Saleem Yous

uf

Zeeshan Nomani and Hamood Jaffery

6 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

Rustam

Kashif and Nisho

PHOTOS COURTESY IDEAS EVENTS PR

i and Kausa

Shahid Afrid

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

PEOPLE & PARTIES

Mr and Mrs Farhan Ahmed Guest

Ali Hai and Maria Mahesar Iqbal Hashmi

8

i Saeed Ha SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

Asad Fecto

l

Faisal Iqba

Humaira

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

PEOPLE & PARTIES Mr Javed Siddiqui cuts the ribbon at the inaugural ceremony of Insignia, ladies footwear and accessories brand in Lahore

Liberty Books organised a story session at Hyderi and Forum outlets in Karachi

10 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

PEOPLE & PARTIES

Ahsan, Roshi and Javeria

Bina

12

Farhad and Lubna SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

Sabina and Bilal Malik

Fareed and

Malika

Zara and Bilal Mukhtar

Dania and Sataish

Salma and Hamza

PHOTOS COURTESY BILAL MUKHTAR EVENTS & PR

Bilal Malik and Ahsan held a small get together at Bilal’s residence in Lahore

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

PEOPLE & PARTIES

Kiran Butt

14

Uzma Rao SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

Anie and Khadija

Nabiha Zeeshan

PHOTOS COURTESY FARHAN LASHARI

Uzma Rao exhibited her pret wear at the Square in Lahore

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

PEOPLE & PARTIES

Metafitnosis held an iftar dinner at Usman Ahmed’s house, in Islamabad

Usman Ahmed

Mr and Mrs Rizvi with their son Hassan

Mudassir

Emma

Mrs Jiraporn with her family

Tanya

Imran and Naveed with a friend

16 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

BY HANI TAHA

In an industry that’s rife with camps and jealousies, Ayaan is clear that her allegiances lie everywhere … and nowhere. “I’m an all-rounder and have done everything from print to commercials to shows,” she says. “I’m a freelancer and have worked with all the photographers and they all give me work so I don’t like to take just one name and offend others,” says Ayaan.

Unlike many other models, she has stayed away from the camps that are endemic to the industry, an industry in which fashion photog-

raphers are also de facto modelling agencies in and of themselves. She’s also been a contender for the Lux Style Awards for the last two years

running. Nominated for Best Emerging Talent, a category that lumps every kind of fresh talent under one label, she lost out to Feeha Jamshed last year. This year, she’s up for Best Female Model, something that considerably narrows the field.

“My achievement as a model can be easily assessed by how successful my covered hair shampoo advertisement has been,” points out Ayaan.

“People from all over the world have appreciated that campaign and all you can see is my face!”

Given that the essential bare-bones role of a model is to be a clothes hanger and a showcase for fashion accessories, it is truly remarkable that

Ayaan has managed to shine in an advertisement where all she has to communicate with is her face.

12 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

“For me she’s more of a supermodel than anyone else with that title these days, given her vast portfolio of work,” says Frieha Altaf.

13 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

COVER STORY “What I really appreciate about working with her is that can-do, positive attitude and the fact that she never has any divalike tantrums or nakhras.”

And with that very versatile face, Ayaan can easily foray into

television, a territory that uber-models like Tooba Siddiqui,

Aaminah Haq, Vaneeza Ahmed and Nadia Hussain have ven-

tured into with varying degrees of success. So is the siren call of the small screen luring her in? “I would like to stick to one thing

right now,” says Ayaan. “I want to concentrate on modelling right now and if a great project comes along I’ll pursue it seriously. My sense of work is very different from others. I’m a trend-

setter in everything that I do and if I appeared on screen, I would want to do something new.”

Such self-confidence and clarity in someone so young has pos-

sibly come from the fact that she has left no stone unturned and

done literally everything that has come her way, leading many in the industry to feel that she has become overexposed too soon.

“I feel she’s come in very quick,” says Freiha Altaf, head of the

modeling agency Catwalk and a former model who has run the whole fashion gauntlet herself. “I feel she’s a bit overexposed but

is one of those naturally beautiful faces. It will take her a few years though to reach that supermodel status even though for me she’s more of a supermodel than anyone else with that title these days, given her vast portfolio of work,” says Frieha.

Prolific or too pervasive — that’s a matter of perspective. Ay-

aan feels proud of her body of work, saying, “There’s really no avenue that I haven’t undertaken. So nothing’s a challenge for me anymore. I have proved myself in every quarter and medium.

Nobody works like me — I’m very hardworking.”

She may be blowing her own trumpet but retailers and de-

signers alike will justify how enterprising and forthright she is.

“You can’t go wrong with her, basically,” says fashion retailer

Shehernaz Hussain admiringly. “She’s great to work with: no

12 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

complaints, she’s flexible when it comes to timings or concepts

or even people to work with. I’ve done multiple shoots with her

including rushed one-day shoots and I think what I really appreciate about working with her is that can-do, positive attitude and the fact that she never has any diva-like tantrums or nakhras.”

This professionalism has helped her in garnering strings of

projects. “The fact that she’s a model hasn’t gotten to her head,”

says veteran designer Deepak Perwani. “Her face and figure

is fabulous and she knows exactly what I want and delivers it.

These other younger models haven’t even made the cut in the industry and they already have their heads in the clouds.”

Now that she’s worked with and wowed all and sundry on the

local front, the next step for Ayaan would be, quite naturally, to

go international. “I want to model for Gucci and Armani,” she says, adding that she has already been given the title of ‘Miss

“These other younger models haven’t even made the cut in the industry and they already have their heads in the clouds.”

Calvin Klein’ and declared brand ambassador for their perfume Beauty. With her exceptional work ethic and constant presence in the industry, it is surprising that she hasn’t already ventured abroad.

“I have done work abroad,” admits Ayaan. “But it’s not big

enough for me to boast about.” And it is this candidness that one

finds endearing about this cherub-faced model. If there’s a ‘girl next door’ in this industry who understands the words humil-

ity and perseverance, it is Ayaan. She stands against the tanned beauty, Rabia Butt, an equally strong contender for the Lux Style Award for Best Female Model this year and if she bags this prize, then surely Ayaan would have conquered all. a

Credits for above picture HAIR AND MAKEUP: SABA ANSARI LABEL: M GIRL BY MARIA B PHOTOGRAPHY: DEEVEES COORDINATION: UMER MUSHTAQ SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

21

FEATURE

if you are drinking tea, then bring some for m A Jewish journalist travels to the town of Bamiyan in central Afghanistan and discovers that tea, humour and denial are universal commodities

BY ADAM LEVINSON

From left to right: the driver Ali Ahmad, the author, and Bamiyan local Qasim along the route from Kabul.

In a small room there was a mattress for every wall, laid along the floor with floral sheets neatly tucked in. A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, but the room was well lit with the last threads of sunlight weaving in through the bars on the window. There

were seven pairs of eyes on me. Most gazed out from above friendly noses and smiles, some wore the blankest of stares — blank not

with incomprehension but with openness to my whimsical appearance on their lonely residential backstreet in central Afghanistan. Naeem sat on my right side. “They are here for you.”

These men were refugees who lived much of their lives in

Pakistan and now huddled together in a small commune to do construction work in (relatively) peaceful Bamiyan. They were building a midwife training centre. Naeem was tall and handsome, clean-shaven but for a light goatee, and had the kind of face that could place him anywhere — I hadn’t noticed an accent

after a handful of words of introduction and suspected, in a flash

22 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

me also

of conspiracy, that he was another undercover American hiding in Afghan clothes. I tried to think of a hand sign only Americans would know, a secret Westerners’ Salute, but a scan of my mental Walker, Texas Ranger database turned up nothing. I tried another crafty tactic: “So, where are you from?”

“Kabul,” he said.

Of course, I hadn’t been hiding anything either — they knew

where I was from and what I was (or wasn’t) doing in Afghanistan. I didn’t look like their stock photo of “English” — their

usual bracket for all native English speakers. Naaem described

Naeem translated for many but spoke for most, and someone turned off the television for us to question each other further rather than listen to mostly dispiriting Urdu news filtered through static.

this character, one that would arouse the wrong kind of curiosity

on the road from the capital: “Big, big body... big and fat... and white. Blue eyes or green eyes — red faces.” Anything but a superfecta of these qualities and a refusal to dress locally will earn you safe passage to Bamiyan.

Naeem translated for many but spoke for most, and some-

one turned off the television for us to question each other further rather than listen to mostly dispiriting Urdu news filtered

through static. “Tonight you will be with us,” he told me in much

the same way as a Roman orator reads a state proclamation, or an oracle relates a prophecy. Hospitality is never in question in

the Bamiyan Valley. If there is a guest, there is a meal, there is a bed, there is every frill the hosts have denied themselves. “We will bring you something special that you’ll like,” Naeem said.

“Wine, or something like this?” I never asked if they had access

to alcohol, or if they would even drink it, but I certainly didn’t want to find out by sending them on a dangerous Grey Goose chase to find liquor for the American. Here, an offer implies no

possession, it merely evinces the willingness to give. I never once questioned that willingness — I knew they would have chased geese for me all night just to say welcome.

We became simpler people. The man with an angular face and

ebullient blue eyes, who had met me outside, who had saved

me from a pack of excited children with stones in their hands,

spoke in a quiet voice. “Take tea?” His name was Osama Latif (the guys smirked, “pay attention to the ‘Latif’!”) I mispronounced a phrase my Pashtun tailor friends had taught me in Abu Dhabi for just such an occasion: “Kataso skay, bya malahum raorey.” If you are drinking tea, then bring some for me also.

For an hour we talked about each other. I looked for informa-

A statue commemorates the life of Abdul Ali Mazari, a political leader and ethnic Hazara who sought an ethno-federalist solution to Afghanistan’s internal conflict and was assassinated by the Taliban in 1995. Bamiyan is the ‘cultural capital’ of the Hazarajat region.

tion with stealthless drones (“Is there any cultural difference

between Afghan and Pakistani Pashtuns?” Answer: “No.”) They

took a very different approach, prizing my character from the

looks on my face, they way I sat, the way I moved. They found information in the way I reported the opinions of my compatriots, with my tone, perhaps, as the only gauge of my consent: “What

23 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

FEATURE

Just over 60,000 inhabitants live in the town of Bamiyan, nearly 3,000 metres high in the Bamiyan Valley.

do American people think about the Taliban?”

However much silence there had been previously, now there

was more. Men shifted on the mattresses and leaned in from the

within reason, but beardless and Pashtun, they became typical subjects for Taliban interrogation.

“That is not Pashtun,” said Osama Latif, denouncing extrem-

walls. I summoned every ounce of diplomatic vagueness and gra-

ism. In his mind, he belonged to an ethnic group defined not

papers. “The Taliban supports a way of doing something that al-

Just as any American loyalist might condemn with the word ‘un-

tuitous jargon that pulled me through college political science

lows for methods that are inhumane...” I said haltingly. No one

spoke. These men were no supporters of the Taliban, having lived

in refugee camps during their rule, and with their livelihood dependent on the protection of this ethnically distinct and politically advanced province from militant onslaught. But in terms

of ethnicity, as Pashtuns in Afghanistan, these men fell into the group the Taliban claimed to represent. So I put up one line of

editorial defence, leaving “things I think” for “things I noticed”: “Afghans that are Persian think it’s the Pashtun (who are the Taliban) — they’re afraid.”

Naeem was nodding. “Persian people think Pashtuns are the

only by common language; his group was founded on ethics, too.

American’, Osama Latif repudiated the Taliban for their rejection of those basic truths. He went further, describing the militants’ real common trait: “Same cap and hat, now we’re Taliban’,” he

mocked. “When he goes on vacation, he goes to Pakistan.” I put aside making jokes about what a Taliban vacation would be like

to listen to his underlying message: we deny their ethnicity, and we can deny their nationality — they have only their hats. To be

Afghan is a privilege that can be rescinded. By this process, the

men in this room had ostracised terrorists to the brink of humanity, stripping them of the most elemental facts of their identity.

Of course, in doing so they tended to overstate the role of for-

Taliban. Here I’m Pashtun and I’m scared of the Taliban.” This

eigners. It is true that volunteers may be Chechen or Arab or Paki-

culture — clothes, facial hair, language, skin colour, the nation-

point: they are not us, so they must be something else.

was the constant paradox of their lives: every vestige of Pashtun ality of their passport — these separated them from their Western-contracting colleagues. So what they could change they did

24 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

stani, but Osama Latif and the others were making a different

J’accuse! I have found this logic in every region where daily life

is affected by terrorism. Here in Afghanistan, they put the blame

I saw no trace of malice in his eyes, but realised that I had steered him into uncharted waters — he was perfectly unaware of the close kinship of our traditions. “We did chapter one,” I said. “Christianity is chapter two. The Qur’an is chapter three — it’s all the same story.”

on ‘Pakistan’. In Lahore, two men told me the terrorists were

coming from India. In northern India, I’m sure, they will say extremists come from the south. In the south, they undoubtedly

come from Sri Lanka. And if Sri Lanka ever faces another terrorist threat, they may well accuse evil creatures that rise from the sea to tyrannise the innocent and go bump in the night.

Humour, it seems, is one commodity that has survived the

ravages of war in Afghanistan. I asked to video them recounting

jokes in Pashto, and though first enthusiastic, they turned fear-

ful. They reckoned that if I were ever in danger, if the American government were to be looking for me, they would find records

of these particular men... joking. (Earlier Naeem had excitedly run in with knives when I asked if we could pose for a picture

with them pretending to kidnap me. The others convinced us it was a bad idea.) It didn’t worry me that they had implied the pos-

sibility of my abduction (you can’t land in Afghanistan without first imagining and rebuffing worst case scenarios), but I noticed

again how powerful humour could be. Not much is in a name, Ms Capulet — until you say it in a silly voice.

That night we ate thick beans and yellow rice with the warm

Afghan bread that is baked flat, punctured with hundreds of ornamental holes. A much older man with a grey beard down to his breastbone joined us on the floor. “The leader,” Naeem stated

proudly. The man finished eating and turned up the volume on

the news; tanks rolled around somewhere in the north, no reports of violence from the south. Naeem wiped his fingers on the bread. “You’re Muslim?” he asked.

“Jewish.”

“What?”

“I’m Jewish.”

I saw no trace of malice in his eyes, but realised that I had

steered him into uncharted waters — he was perfectly unaware of the close kinship of our traditions. “We did chapter one,” I

said. “Christianity is chapter two. The Qur’an is chapter three — it’s all the same story.” It wasn’t the most eloquent exegesis

of Abrahamic scripture, but it felt like a start; I wanted only to avoid presenting my traditions as somehow more valid. “Honestly, I don’t really believe any of it,” I shrugged happily.

I mentioned Adam and Abraham, Ibrahim, and won brief nods

from the crowd. The man from Kandahar agreed with every word

and told me so in Arabic. We hadn’t gotten terribly far in our conversation, but we had opened the forum — and with that, the call to prayer sounded and the men dispersed to perform their ablutions.

A crowd gathers for a partridge fight on a Friday afternoon in Kabul’s Shar-e-Now Park.

Naeem is a 24-year-old engineer with a degree in road civil en-

gineering from Polytechnical University of Kabul. I know this because we are now friends on Facebook. It seems things are still well in Bamiyan.a

25 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

FEATURE

voices from

BY KIRAN NAZISH

Whatever the endgame, the Libyan people will pay a heavy price for this war.

Hamed Karim has been standing in front of a wall in Benghazi for hours now, staring at the portraits and pictures that cover it. The people in these photos are Libyan rebel fighters and civilians, who were killed or abducted in the rebellion against Muammar Qaddafi’s dictatorial regime. Among hundreds of

of.” Of the thousands who took to the sea, many were reportedly

three to his close friends. As a tear slides down Hamed’s cheek,

towns, populated mostly by low-income families, having enough

these framed faces, four images belong to Hamed’s brothers and over 650 kilometres to the west the capital of Tripoli is rocked by

explosions as Nato jets bomb Qaddafi’s Bab al-Aziziya compound.

By the time you read this, Qaddafi’s tottering regime may have

fallen, and the colonel himself may be dead or in custody or still

in hiding. But however the endgame pans out, it will be left to the Libyan people to count the price they paid.

Accurate figures are impossible to get from a war zone, and

depending on who you ask, anything from 3,000 to 13,000 lives

killed by patrolling loyalist forces. Since Nato joined the war, “things became better”, she says.

For those who stayed behind, survival was difficult. Food stocks

were available in Misrata, but were sold at such inflated rates that most people could not afford to buy. But, at least in mostly

middle-class Misrata, no one went hungry. In the nearby small

to eat was a luxury. With business and markets completely shut down, daily-wage earners were the worst hit. It was the network of family and tribal ties that saved them from starvation. “Liby-

ans treat each other like family and are very generous when it comes to sharing food and supplies with those who can’t afford

the inflated rates,” says Maimoona. “So as long as you have an ex-

tended family which can afford to buy food, you don’t go hungry.”

The real problem was the uncertainty. “Everyone was affected

have been lost. Many times that number opted to flee the coun-

by the war in one way or the other,” says Maimoona. Many of

100,000 — even more if you factor in the immigrant workers who

while many others joined the rebel forces against Qaddafi’s. “My

try towards Europe, Egypt and Tunisia, with estimates as high as fled the conflict.

“Schools have been closed since February,” says Maimoona,

a second year student at the University of Misrata, who man-

aged to escape Libya during the war. Along with other Libyans, Maimoona and few of her family members managed to take a 17-

28

liby

her friends from university were kidnapped by Qaddafi’s army friend’s uncle was abducted in February and no one ever heard

back from him. Some of the arrested people were taken to prison

from the battlefield, and kept in isolated conditions. But some (very few) managed to flee.”

The lucky ones who managed to escape tell tales of containers

hour boat out of Misrata, to Tobruk.

being used as makeshift prisons-cum-torture cells. A few prison-

out. Qaddafi’s forces were shooting any boats they’d catch sight

a warning for others. It clearly had the opposite effect.

“It was terrifying, and we didn’t know if we’d be able to make it

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

ers were released after being brutally tortured, in order to serve as

ya “The people couldn’t watch their loved ones being tortured

and killed, and joined the rebel armies to ensure Qaddafi’s de-

“I don’t know what he will do to the thousands of prisoners if he becomes desperate.”

also killed by the same forces.

Even though the game seems to be up, the possible conse-

feat,” says Maimoona.

quences of Qaddafi’s defeat send chills down the spines of those

stayed back to help the wounded. “He knew he was not safe, he

prisoners and no one else knows where they are hidden,” says

Maimoona’s brother, an X-ray technician at Misrata Hospital

didn’t know whether he would live through these times, but he

wanted to be there in the fight. He wanted to make sure the hos-

pital didn’t lose staff-strength and that no one died due to a lack

of staff. So he stayed back to work on, from body to body.” In a wavering voice, she adds, “He wanted to do his part.”

Maimoona and others who escaped Libya, had to struggle to be

able to speak to their families in Misrata. Most of the phone lines

were down, and those that did work were tapped by the government. “Only journalists were allowed any form of communication. They had satellite phones and the internet.”

whose loved ones are missing. “Qaddafi’s forces still have the

Hamza Malik who has been sending updates from Libya via Twit-

ter and Facebook. “I don’t know what he will do to the thousands of prisoners if he becomes desperate.” Indeed, Qaddafi’s unpredictability is in itself a cause for concern. “Qaddafi was always

delusional beyond belief,” warns Malik, “and one has to be careful of what steps he may take, as his narcissistic attitude could lead to more lives being lost.” For the rebels, only his capture or

death will bring closure. “We will chase Qaddafi from hole to hole,” one injured fighter told the BBC.

As Benghazi was liberated, Libyan political analyst Ana El

Initially, Qaddafi tried controlling people’s minds and the flow

Gomati struck a note of caution. “There is an immense level of

tional radio and television” about the intrusion of external forc-

means it will be necessary to proceed with caution for the process

of information by giving false reports. “He constantly lied on naes and enemy attacks. Alaa, a Libyan based in Qatar, who was

in touch with her family in Zawwiya and Tripoli, explains her shock when she woke one February morning and saw Qaddafi giving a speech blaming ‘anti-state forces’ for causing trouble.

“My uncle had been kidnapped a night before from his own

hope, but also a healthy amount of scepticism in the air which of nation building to be a successful endeavour. I have attended

the funeral prayer of a martyr and with the same people kissed the head of a baby born during the revolution, and so life continues in this incredible city.”

The hard task of rebuilding this war-torn land is a challenge

house, by Qaddafi’s army. Qaddafi would tell these lies, but

for the immediate future. For the moment, the overwhelming

Jazeera regularly about events in Libya, was also under constant

lions of Libyans when he says, “We will celebrate this Eid as free

no Libyan would believe him.” Alaa’s father, who speaks to Althreat by the government. Earlier one of Alaa’s other uncles was

emotion here is relief. Hamza Malik captures the feeling of milmen, inshaAllah.” a

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

29

FEATURE

BY SABA FARID

amidst the ruins A well that was once used for

An overview of the ruins of

population. The inner bound-

tures have been damaged ex-

supplying water to the local

ary walls of the well are made

of brick and reflect the architectural ingenuity of Harappa. The Indus Civilisation is

thought to be more advanced

than many of the civilisations that came after it.

Harappa. Most of the structensively. According to Unesco, the removal of thousands

of bricks for railway ballast in

the 1850s by the British — who were making a railway track nearby from Multan to Lahore

— damaged this ancient city and most of its original shape has been lost.

This is thought to be the bathing

The Harappa site was first briefly

walls in the background. Even

ningham in 1872-73, two decades

area with remains of housing

5,000 years later, these Bronze

Age bricks have not eroded. In

1986, the first systematic, multi-

disciplinary excavations were

started by the Harappa Archaeo-

logical Project (HARP), under the direction of George F Dales and J

Mark Kenoyer, according to the

official website for Harappa.

These excavations have continued almost every year since then.

visible remains of the city. The first extensive excavations at

Harappa were started by Rai Bahadur Daya Ram Sahni in 1920.

His work was followed by Madho

Sarup Vats, of the Archaeologi-

cal Survery of India, and in 1946 Sir Mortimer Wheeler excavated

walls and found the first pre-Indus Valley civilisation.

An overview of the well and

20 years. The site has trans-

thought to have been used for

formed since he first came there as a young man — now

barbed wires have been put up to safeguard it from tourists

who may destroy the archeological remains of this civilisation. He also works as a guide at the site.

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

after bricks were stolen from the

This man has been a guard at Harappa for more than

32

excavated by Sir Alexander Cun-

drainage system. This area is bathing and washing. Made somewhere

around

2,600

BC, the sophistication of the

drainage system reflects how advanced the Indus Civilisation was.

Harappa is one of the last signs of a long-dead civilisation, but ironically it’s the giant saint who gets all the traffic!

These giant ringstones are simi-

lar to ones found in Mohenjo-

daro and Dholavira. Their origin is unknown but local legend says they belonged to a giant saint of the 17th century, Baba Nur Shah, who is buried within the

premises of the Harappa ruins.

But archaeologists believe that these giant ringstones of solid rock were used to secure wooden posts at gateways to the city.

A signboard put up by Harappa’s local management that gives directions to ancient cities (some

belonging to the Indus Civilisation), emphasising how, even

without speedy transport, there were similarities in the lifestyles of such distant areas. It high-

lights places like Mesopotamia too, which is considered to be

the origin of the Bronze Age, a time frame when Indus Civilisa-

tion is believed to have existed too.

The tomb of Baba Nur Shah, who is believed to have lived in this area in the 17th century. Locals say

Baba Nur Shah was a giant and, ironically, his 9-metre long tomb in Harappa attracts more visitors

than the ancient ruins them-

selves. The tomb was properly constructed in 1918. According to

the administration, the grave is

unusually long on account of having the Sufi’s personal belongings buried with him. a

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

33

FEATURE

back on their feet

BY ZUHA MARYAM SHAIKH

The Artificial Limbs Centre has given 5,000 people their lives, income and dignity.

“We only make a patient spend two rupees,” says Azfar Zaidi.

“And that is to get their NIC photocopied for our records.”

In a bright red frock and cropped pants that hang loosely from the hinge of her left knee, four-yearold Eman Fatima sits on her father’s lap, looking like any other child that you may have set eyes upon. But take a closer look and you’ll notice something different, something missing. Eman, like many others who come to the Artificial Limbs Centre (ALC) in Karachi’s Gulistan-e-Jauhar, is missing a limb. More specifically, she is missing the lower part of her right leg. The first, barely perceptible sign that something might be wrong with Eman’s leg was the small black spot

that appeared on her knee upon birth. What looked like an ordi-

nary mole spread overnight like a malignant fungus over her entire lower leg. Eman’s parents rushed from hospital to hospital, but it turned out that Eman had gangrene and her leg needed

34

to be amputated. But before she could even be operated on, the SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

dead, blood-deprived leg withered away.

the night in the city. Moreover, ALC often pays their rickshaw or

out about the Umeed Special Trust in Sher Shah. The trust guided

way fares. “We only make a patient spend two rupees,” says Azfar

It was to be another three years before Eman’s family found

the family to the ALC where Eman got her first artificial leg, and

was finally able to attend school. She is now back at the ALC for another leg to fit her growing body.

Stories like Eman’s play out daily at the ALC. Over 5,000 pa-

tients have been provided free limbs, which would otherwise

taxi fares since patients from the interior often cannot afford twoZaidi. “And that is to get their NIC photocopied for our records.”

If a patient comes from Punjab or Sukkur, he is sent back with

tools with which he can solve small issues like the loosening of the socket, with assistance over the phone.

Although the workers at ALC are paid well, money isn’t the

cost between Rs 30,000 and Rs 100,000 each.

motivating factor. Despite knowing that there is no pay for over-

(HASWA) and Rotary Club Karachi, ALC started to provide fully

the senior technician at ALC, admits she still gets teary-eyed

A collaborative venture by Health and Social Welfare Association

functional artificial limbs, free of charge, to people in July 2008.

“When we got a patient who had lost a limb in a bomb blast

and we couldn’t get a limb for her, I realised that no institute

time work, employees often stay late to help patients. Farzana, when she sees patients. “When I came to work here, I understood the problems of people for the first time,” she says.

All the workers are united by the common vision of putting a

in Pakistan trains people on how to make limbs,” says Dr Feroz

smile on the sad faces of the people who daily limp into the ALC.

Club invited a team of 18 specialists from Jaipur Foot, the largest

centre and its patients, was asked about his designation, he clar-

Ismail, the founder and director of HASWA. “In 2007, the Rotary

organisation in the world for artificial limbs, to set up a 15-day camp at Dow University to provide limbs to amputees. The response was overwhelming. Thousands of patients turned up — we couldn’t possibly treat them all. We also realised that this was

When Azfar Zaidi, who seemed to be the most familiar with the ified that there was no such concept at ALC. “Call me a clerk or a

manager,” says Zaidi. “If we get into designations, we won’t get any work done.”

The limbs are made after a simple procedure: a staff member

not camp-level work: after three years of wearing a prosthesis,

takes the patient’s measurements and makes a mould. The cast

ing children continuously need new legs. Therefore, we decided

pipe. A prosthetic foot with rubber soles is then attached to the

all artificial legs need repairs, no matter what. Moreover, growupon a life-long commitment to providing support.”

Despite its low-key operations, patients from all over the country

come to the ALC. Paras, 16, who has been handicapped since birth, travelled all the way from Dadu with her brother to get an artificial

is then filled with plaster of Paris and covered with a rubber soft prosthetic leg. “These legs are much more durable than the ones

made in China,” explains Zaidi pointing towards a torn Chinamanufactured foot.

When Dr Ismail was asked why he doesn’t advertise the centre,

leg at the camp in 2007. Four years on, she has come to the ALC

he responded by saying that they don’t want to be overwhelmed

new height. “Previously, I couldn’t stand for long or work in the

stock of prostheses for 7 to 8 months and relies on donors for their

to get her excessively used leg replaced with one that matches her kitchen,” she says, reflecting upon the change that a second leg has brought in her life. “But this is not an issue anymore.”

“For people in remote areas,” says Dr Ismail, “waking up one

morning and coming to a city to get a new leg, is a miracle in itself.”

Since its inception, ALC has kept a record of every person who

with patients — which has happened in the past. ALC keeps a

running expenses. Advertisement would make ALC risk running out of resources and turning down hopeful patients. “Maybe if a

big donor is willing to step in, we could expand upon this project,” says Dr Ismail.

Even though there is no regular system of donors, Zaidi is con-

has been given a free limb at the centre. However, nothing would

fident that ALC will not run out of donations. “When you believe

goonwala and organisations like the Rotary International that

turning,” he says. “In three years, we have not had to stop work

have been possible without private donors such as Asif Rancommitted to providing financial support from day one. For six months, new recruits were trained by technicians from Jaipur

Foot in India. Since then, Jaipur Foot has regularly sold supplies and helped whenever required.

“Initially everything came from India,” says Dr Ismail. “How-

ever, now we are starting our own developmental procedures in

in Allah, you have to understand that He will keep the wheels even for a day. Even when security conditions in Gulistan-e-Jauhar are bad, our location stays safe.”

One of the staffers tells us that ALC once provided a beggar

with a prosthetic limb, and he quit begging and started a fruit stall despite the fact that he earned more money while begging.

“When a man loses his limb, he loses his income, family, rela-

order to be less dependent.”

tives and dignity,” says Dr Ismail. “We give him back his dignity

day that they arrive at the centre. If, on a certain day, there is an

Huqooq-ul-Ibad (rights of the people). If God made me a doctor

ALC aims to provide patients with their missing legs on the very

influx of patients from both interior Sindh and Karachi, the pa-

tients from the interior are treated first so that no one has to stay

but this is not a favour to them. As a Muslim, I have to fulfil

and gave me two legs, then it is a patient’s right over me that I get him two legs.” a

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

35

COMMENT

boyz to

men They’re far from the new kids on the block that they were in the 90s, but the boys are better than ever.

BY SABA KHALID

When I was a child, Sunday evenings were most depressing for my sisters and I. Sundays slapped us back into reality, reminding us that the fun weekend was over and the imprisonment in school would start once again. My eldest sister had developed her very own therapeutic Sunday ritual to cheer her up. She would play the album Hangin’ Tough by the New Kids on the Block (NKOTB) over and over again. Sharing a room with her meant that I would do my Sunday night homework to the sounds of Jordan’s falsetto, Joey’s crooning and Donny’s ridiculous attempts at rapping.

And whether I liked them or not, somehow those sounds became entrenched in my memory as one of the happiest times spent with my sister.

It was fifteen years later that I was sitting on the train from

past the crowd and came face to face with me.

“Ummm are you like here for Backstreet Boys or like New Kids

on the Block?” she asked me in a nasally American accent.

A little scared of what the consequence of my an-

swer would be, I replied, “New Kids on the Block.” A long

“Woooooooooooooaaaaaah” echoed from one side of the bus

while the girl in front of me rolled her eyes and disappeared to

the back of the bus once again. A girl from one of the Woahers grabbed me by my hand and led me to where the other NKOTB

die-hards were sitting. This was hardcore and there were clear

lines drawn between the fans. The girls quickly quizzed me on

everything I knew about the band, my favourite songs and band member, making sure all the while that I wasn’t a Backstreet Boys (BSB) fan in hiding.

Finally we had arrived. Not having attended any large con-

Jersey to New York City when I found out that the superstars of

certs, except a relatively smaller one in Malaysia, the sheer size

none other than the Backstreet Boys! Watching the dates flash

of 20,000, it is often used for NBA games and other champion-

my childhood were performing at Rutherford, Izod Centre, with before me on the little TV screen, I had my very own epiphany — I absolutely had to go.

As much as I loved the group, I kind of expected the entire

event to be a little bit of a letdown. The boys were in their forties, scratch that, the men were in their forties, could they re-

of the arena was an eye-opener for me. With a seating capacity

ships as well. On the musical front, this multi-purpose arena had been home to Jersey native, Bruce Springsteen, who had played a 10-night sold-out run in 1984, an 11-night run in 1992 and a 15-night sold-out run in 1999.

As soon as the shuttle stopped, I realised I was on another

ally dance the way they once did? And singing live, would they

planet altogether, one that had been invaded by thousands and

sumed they really wouldn’t look as golden and perfect as they did

the worst football fans. In real life, they probably were smart, so-

even have the stamina to do that anymore? And at this age, I as-

back in the day. But like a crazed fan, I still wanted to go without somehow ruining my childhood memory of them.

And that’s exactly what I did; I spent two hours commuting

36

shuttle was full of girls, and as I boarded, one of them shoved

to Secaucus junction where they had started a 15-minute shuttle

service to take people from Secaucus to the concert venue. The SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

thousands of women — louder, crazier and rowdier than even

phisticated, working women, some even with babies, but today they were living out their teens with side ponytails, crimped hair and oversized NKOTB tee-shirts from their old tours. It seemed

like 20,000 women had selectively stepped inside a time machine and transported themselves back into the good old ‘90s for

one incredible evening. There were so many women here that the management had turned even the men’s loo into a women’s loo.

The show was to begin in another twenty minutes, but for me, there was a little bit of a problem.

I had stupidly assumed that I would be able to buy the tickets at the venue. And here, I could only

see crowded gates to enter the concert hall but no shady men selling overpriced black tickets, like I was used to in Pakistan. After a lot of running around to different gates, I finally found one man in the crowd. I assumed he either had to be very very gay or part of the administration of the Izod

Center. Thankfully, he turned out to be one of the security personnel who guided me to the box office where last minute ticket sales were being made.

With ten minutes to spare, I had only one choice — buy the most expensive ticket for practically

the front row or simply go back home. Ten minutes later, I was sitting inside the arena chomping on my nachos and crackerjacks, hoping that Sparks (the opening act for the boys) would not sing too many songs.

But she did and the crowd grew more and more impatient. By the time the two boy groups came out

on stage, the crowd was already pumping with adrenalin. It was no ordinary entry — the stage on both ends was elevated high into the sky with NKOTB appearing like Gods on one end and BSB on the other.

Believe it or not, fifteen years later, the now-dads were still as perfect as their teenage centerfolds

that once appeared religiously in Teen Beat. They started out with their newer hits “Summertime”

Best of all was when BSB handpicked four random women from the audience, presented them with roses on stage, got down on their knees and serenaded them.

and “Single” which got all the ladies moving and screaming louder and louder. Soon enough came the Backstreet boys with a few of their hits, it was their concert too, I had completely forgotten.

Best of all was when BSB handpicked four random women from the audience, presented them

with roses on stage, got down on their knees and serenaded them in front of thousands with the song, “I’ll never break your heart”. Looking at the expressions on the faces of the chosen girls on stage, I knew they were experiencing the happiest heart attack of their lives.

Once BSB were done with their songs, NKOTB were back once again and they were even more in-

ventive with revving up the crowd. After a little bit of an interval, I realised that instead of the boys

performing in the middle of the stage, they were actually coming from all five corners at the back of the arena. This basically meant that for one entire song, the backseats were actually turned into the best front seats you could ever have, as they allowed maximum proximity to the superstars.

Through it all, NKOTB threw in some of their best dance moves, possibly better choreographed

and stylized than their ‘90s days, and sang their hearts out with their classics “Step by Step,” “Tonight,” “Please Don’t Go girl” and of course “Valentine Girl”.

The boys who once made it on Forbes magazine’s list of highest paid American entertainers and

then descended into the darkness for a decade, had somehow risen from the ashes once again.

And after attending this concert I can honestly say that the boys truly are back, and boy, were

they better than ever! a

37 AUGUST 28-SEPTEMBER 3 2011

GREEN THUMB

ra-raradishes!

BY ZAHRA ALI

A fast-maturing vegetable that can grow in small spaces and is flavourful to boot — sounds like an urban farmer’s dream. Such is the radish or laal mooli, a well-established crop since Roman times, which is still popular among farmers for all these reasons.

The red-skinned and white-fleshed vegetable is a globe with a

diameter of around an inch. Both the root and the leaves are used for culinary purposes. Radishes are loved for their bright red colour and sweet, mild flavour. Although there are a variety of dif-

ferent shapes, colours and tastes among radishes, the tiny globes with the blushing red colour are unbeatable!

Try growing each variety as it takes only 20 days for this won-

der crop to mature from sowing.

Sowing seeds

Radishes can easily be grown in small or large containers or trays if you do not have a patch to grow your vegetables on.

Randomly scatter the seeds two inches apart and lightly cover

them with compost. Plant seeds in small rows after every 10-15

days. Remember that it is better to sow a small amount than have a large amount of radishes ready to harvest at the same time.

As indicated by the Greek name of its genus, Raphanus mean-

ing “quickly appearing”, the seeds sprout within two days. That

they grow so fast makes radishes suitable for plant projects children could work on.

42 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

This winter, grow your own delicious, organic radishes and treat yourself and your family to this crunchy red and white vegetable.

Growing radishes in your garden Radishes would grow best in a well-drained, rich, loamy soil. It

is a crop for the cool season. For a winter harvest, plant seeds as soon as you see autumn emerge from summers. Give radish

seedlings a minimum of 6-8 hours of sunlight and water them regularly. Irregular watering will blot their skins.

This fast-growing crop can be planted along with slow growing

counterparts to avail the unused spaces in the garden: Carrots, onions, marigolds, lettuce, cabbages, beans and tomatoes enjoy the company of these bright red veggies.

Harvesting and beyond Radishes should be picked as soon as the spheres reach an inch in diameter. Leaving them for a slightly longer time would change

the taste from a desirable, pleasant tang to an unwanted spiciness. If picked at the right time, radishes make a variety of dishes tasteful. The flesh and seeds are also edible and add crunchiness to salads.

The greens can be refrigerated for about 2-3 days and the veg-

etables for about a week. But for a truly scrumptious treat, eat them fresh!

Storing seeds for sowing Leave a few plants growing beyond maturity to encourage seeding. Left like that, radishes produce flowers that turn into seedpods. These seedpods contain seeds that can produce many more radishes. Simply let seedpods mature and dry on the stalk. Carefully open up each seedpod and collect seeds in a dish. Let the

seeds dry for two days in direct sunlight. They would then be ready to store in an airtight container or a sealed bag.

A green idea

REVERING RADISHES Radishes are so famous in Mexico that they are celebrated in the festival Noche de los Rabanos (Night of the Radishes) yearly on December 23rd. Religious figures are carved out of these tiny, red-skinned and white-fleshed globes and are displayed around town BEAUTIFYING BOONS As an excellent source of vitamin C, phosphorus, potassium and zinc, radishes serve as natural moisturisers for the skin.

HANGING HEALTHY With each carrying a single calorie, radishes can be great weight loss buddies. A great detoxifier for the blood, radishes are beneficial in the treatment of jaundice, constipation, urine disorders and cancer. They also relieve congestion of the respiratory system caused by cold or allergies. Moreover, being a good source of folic acid, they are ideal during pregnancies when folic acid is required for the development of babies.

Storing seeds is a rewarding practice for any farmer. The quality of seeds produced depends on growing methods adopted and the seeds that the plants were started from. Make sure that the seeds you start off with come from an organic source and are not hybrids. Avoid chemicals on plants and keep them pest and weed free. a

43 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

UP NORTH AND PERSONAL When looked at in the clear light of day it is obvious that the billions of people struggling to survive on this overexploited globe are held down forcibly by a few thousand powerful ‘elite’ — waving slogans like ‘hearts and minds’ whenever it suits their nefarious purpose.

Belonging to the 99.9% of people viewed as being basically pow-

erless but in whom, in actuality, all power ultimately resides, I resentfully purloin the term ‘hearts and minds’ as it is the most

appropriate one I can think of right now. I hear dissenting voices

already: what power, they ask, can possibly be held by the poverty-stricken, largely uneducated millions of poor who do not even

blinded by Peace is a state of mind understood best by nomadic people because they are not consumed with greed — freedom is best known to them.

have a roof over their heads, let alone regular access to food or, in far too many cases, potable water? In answering this I no doubt

lay my neck on the guillotine of arrogant supposition but, I will

say: scoff all you like, the power of poverty is something which, once realised and released, has the potential to kick the world into an altogether different orbit.

Holding power over the relatively small number of people com-

prising the ‘educated’ of the planet actually means very little, if

anything at all. Such transient power, being nothing more than

artfully applied icing, used to disguise the cracks in an increas-

ingly crumbly cake. Transient powers habitually wage war as

they strive for permanency in this world. These wars — primarily waged against those considered to be exploitable and expendable

— may wear the standard uniform of blatant aggression, have

imperialistic intentions or be quietly fought on the economic front. But the inevitability of the outcome remains the same —

Future in waiting.

tears.

show him what poverty is. After the trip he asked his son about

rently doing the rounds: A rich man took his son to a village to

have a small pool, they have a long river. We have light, they

the rich get richer and the poor pay the price in blood, sweat and

To illustrate this point I will quote a text message which is cur-

poverty. The son replied: “We have one dog, they have many. We have the stars. We have a small piece of land, they have large fields. We buy food, they grow their own and for others too.” The

man was speechless. Then the boy said: “Thanks Dad, for showing me how poor we are.”

The elite, irrespective of colour, caste or creed, have come to

depend on a certain standard of life — one which is fast becom-

44

I lived for some time in a broken down, falling apart car and, whilst I did envy some campers I saw with a magnificent tent, I did not envy the rich with their ‘luxuries’.

ing unsustainable as human greed leaps, lemming-like, over an impossibly monstrous cliff. This ‘modern’ lifestyle, fuelled by oil and its derivatives, is heavily dependent on technology and on

the power to acquire things of no lasting value. It is characteristic of disorganised rats huddled in airless cages of concrete construction, from which someone higher up the ladder is extorting

tremendous profit. Misery rules, although few sufferers, brainwashed as they are, will admit that there is anything amiss and even fewer realise that the causative factor is greed.

Some will venture out into the realms inhabited by those they

perceive as being too poor to help themselves out of the quagmire SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

by power TEXT & PHOTOGRAPHS BY ZAHRAH NASIR

“Vermin like these aren’t with anyone. They are just dirty junglies who need locking up along with their parents…if they have any.”

ture just three little girls and two slightly older boys — were all smiles and happiness as they linked hands and automatically

reached for mine and I, wanting to entertain them, spontaneously broke in to a run down the fairly quiet Mall. As we ran

down the middle of the road, more and more children added on until there were 20 or so of them laughing out loud with pure, unadulterated glee and all of us experienced, holding hands as we were, an electrical jolt of exhilarating freedom.

The few people around stared in horror, and one shopkeeper

had the audacity to clout one of the older nomad boys around

the ear and instruct them all to go back to their encampment they are seen to be in: a quagmire in which often, though not always, honest to goodness laughter and pure joy is far more visible than in the abodes of their would be benefactors whose life-

styles rarely allow for such basic luxuries as these. No, I am not idealising poverty….merely pointing out that poverty of worldly goods does not equate with the poverty of an educated mind. I

myself have been what you would classify as ‘poverty-stricken’

to the point of homelessness in the UK many years ago. I lived

for some time in a broken down, falling apart car and, whilst I did envy some campers I saw with a magnificent tent, I did not envy the rich with their ‘luxuries’. Life on the ‘down-side’ has

far more advantages than most educated people can conceive

before there was “any more trouble”. I explained the situation

to him and informed him that the children were with me. His response was noteworthy: “Vermin like these aren’t with anyone. They are just dirty junglies who need locking up along with

their parents…if they have any.” His objection was that nomads move from place to place, don’t believe in boundaries or borders,

do not pay taxes, do not contribute to the economy and, above

all, have a freedom he cannot relate to. His solution being that they should be forced to live like other people, the children put

in school and taught to earn a living so that, one presumes, they will have money to spend in shops like his so that he, in turn, can maintain his blindness to a person’s inalienable right to be free.

Nomadic people, along with others such as those residing in

of — it naturally has its drawbacks too, the biggest of which are

remote mountain and rural areas are basically peaceful, self-ful-

‘free’ world of one’s own is not tolerated by those without any

of the land. They live ‘outside the box’ and ‘off the page’ and it is

authoritarian, societal and governmental interference. Life in a real understanding of what it is.

Just this morning, for example, I went to Murree as is my wont

every week or two. As I came down the steep steps of the GPO, I

was spotted by some Afghan nomad children whose tents I visit

when they are here for the summer. The children — at this junc-

filled and happy people living in harmony with and respectful they, not the exploitative, warmongering elite with their greed and economic/financial needs, who have the inherent power to

survive whatever traumas the world is forced to endure. And, I do assure you, their time will come as, after all, it is written that ‘the meek shall inherit the earth’. a

SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

45

PROFILE

the son also

rises Rahul Khanna opens up about his love for dogs, his hate of Manjha and what kissing Nandita Das is like.

BY YUSRA ASKARI

The son of a 1970s Bollywood matinee idol turned politician, Rahul may have made his father Vinod Khanna’s industry his own, but has surely chosen to shape his own career rather differently. Rahul, with almost the same number of films to his credit as the years he spent in the industry, has made his own mark on the silver screen over the course of his decade-long journey.

In a sharp contrast to what one would imagine to be the fate of a

Bollywood scion, Rahul and his brother Akshaye “didn’t grow up in the limelight at all”. He explains, “My dad was a huge star but our parents made a conscious decision to keep us quite removed

from that world and his work was always something he left at the

door when he came home.” Also, “the additional geographical disconnect of living in south Bombay” and not the north where most of the film industry is based, also came into play.

Rahul’s parents split when both he and his brother were quite

young and the two lived with their mother, so other than “occasional visits” to his father’s film sets, they didn’t really have access to the film world. “Perhaps those few visits to my dad’s sets planted a seed in my subconscious,” he explains. Clearly, that seed has now bloomed.

Despite being relatively detached from the film trade; Ra-

46

hul’s career choice was simple. “I’ve always been quite creative SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

“My years with MTV were blissfully fun. I got to travel constantly, interact with huge international stars and work with some very creative people,” and knew I wanted to be in a creative field. Since film is one of

stream Bollywood cinema.

choice,” he says.

Deepa Mehta on a second film, Bollywood Hollywood, playing the

the most creative mediums out there, I guess it was a natural

Rahul went on attend the prestigious Lee Strasberg Theatre

and Film Institute followed by the School of Visual Arts, both in

Following the success of Earth, Rahul went on to work with

protagonist opposite Lisa Ray. Also released the same year as his second outing, was Rahul’s first Hollywood venture, 3 AM, di-

New York. With regard to his field of work, Rahul feels lineage

rected by Lee Davis. Rahul’s body of work also includes, Micheal

haps gives you a predisposition to a craft and training helps you

Raqeeb and Dil Kabaddi and special appearances in Tahaan, Love Aaj

and talent are important but “knowledge is power”. “Lineage perunderstand and hone it,” he says.

Unlike most star children, Rahul’s on-screen career began as

Hoffman’s The Emperor’s Club, mainstream Bollywood films Elaan, Kal and Wake up Sid.

Having dabbled in television, theatre, film and stage, Rahul

a video jockey for MTV Asia. “My years with MTV were blissfully

believes though “very different from each other”, each one of his

stars and work with some very creative people,” he explains. “Host-

Film, which he describes as “magical”, however, will always be

fun. I got to travel constantly, interact with huge international ing TV shows is all about addressing the camera, whereas acting in films is all about pretending the camera doesn’t exist. I always

knew I eventually wanted to do films,” adds Rahul, who upon being offered Deepa Mehta’s Earth, knew it was time to move on.

“My first shot for Earth will always be the most memorable. It

was at dawn at the ruins of Tughlaqabad Fort in Delhi and I had

to kiss Nandita Das,” recalls Rahul wistfully. Dancing on a Toronto rooftop with Lisa Ray is apparently a close second.

Adjudged Filmfare’s best male debutant for his role in the

second part of Mehta’s Elements Trilogy; Rahul’s performances are

almost evenly divided between diaspora, Hollywood and main

avatars are “extremely satisfying, creatively, in their own way.” the medium that’s closest to his heart.

Of all the roles he has essayed thus far, in Rahul’s view his most

challenging one was that of Tariq, a brash, womanising half-Pak-

istani, half-British young man in the New York stage production of the hit West-End theatrical adaptation of East is East.

“My character was a chain-smoker. I am allergic to cigarettes

so I had to use special herbal cigarettes and take lots of anti-histamines,” recalls Rahul who for the role, trained under a dialect coach to “perform in a Mancunian accent”.

“Many of the scenes took place in a Fish and Chip shop which

had real potato chippers and deep fryers so we were constantly SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

47

PROFILE

“My first shot for Earth will always be the most memorable. It was at dawn at the ruins of Tughlaqabad Fort in Delhi and I had to kiss Nandita Das,” recalls Rahul wistfully. Dancing on a Toronto rooftop with Lisa Ray is apparently a close second. cutting or scalding ourselves during the show. It was a physically exhausting run of eight shows a week for 11 weeks but it was one

of the best experiences of my life. I learned so much and made so

programs available to everyone on TV.”

More recently, Rahul, on behalf of PETA, wrote to Jayanthi Na-

many good friends,” he adds.

tarajan, India’s Minister of State for Environment and Forests,

“a great way of connecting with the world. The way I choose to

with powdered glass), which is known to maim or kill countless

A few hundred followers short of 100,000, Twitter to Rahul is

tweet is definitely an extension of how I generally communicate.

My worst Twitter nightmare is realising too late that I’ve posted a tweet with an incorrect spelling or a missing apostrophe,” he says.

Rahul’s twitter bio enlists him as a ‘Boutique Bollywood Ac-

tor’; a term that he says “was born out of necessity”. “When I

urging her to ban the sale and use of manjha (kite-string coated birds.

“Something this dangerous should be considered a deadly

weapon and must be outlawed without delay,” wrote Khanna.

“Please, won’t you prevent more senseless suffering and deaths by banning glass-coated manjha throughout India?”

Despite an evident fondness for his ‘canine nieces’ (his brother

meet new people and they learn I’m an actor in the Indian film

Akshaye’s dogs), avid dog lover Rahul doesn’t have any pets of his

It’s often tedious trying to explain the esoteric space I occupy in

dog, but my lifestyle doesn’t allow it. I am constantly traveling

industry they always go, ‘Oh, so you must do 5-10 films a year.’ such a prolific industry. I had been hearing the term ‘boutique’

used to describe everything from hotels to investment companies

that were more niche and realised it was also quite apt for me. I

own. “There’s nothing I would love more than having my own

and am away from home, sometimes for months at a time so it wouldn’t be fair to the dog.”

Luckily, Rahul has “the next best thing, which is access to

decided to try using it and found it always got my point across

other people’s dogs.” Most of his family have dogs whom he sees

A firm believer and advocate of ethical treatment towards ani-

visits,” says Rahul who believes “having a dog (or dogs) in your

plus got a good laugh” he explains.

mals, Rahul is one of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals

(PETA) India’s celebrity ambassadors. “I’ve always loved animals and am only too happy to lend support to any organisation that works with them,” he explains.

The face of PETA, India’s campaign, ‘Beaten, Shackled, Abused

­— Elephants Do Not Belong in Zoos’, Rahul believes that “these

48

way to observe these animals is through the fascinating wildlife

regularly. “In fact, my brother’s dogs come over for almost daily life is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

Whenever Rahul does get a dog, he says it will be one that is

adopted; either from the street or from a shelter. “There’s no point buying a dog from a breeder when there are so many needy strays,” he adds

Rahul lives life off the beaten track and away from the rat race.

majestic animals belong in the wild”. Speaking up for elephants

Having shaped his career on his own terms, he enjoys the flex-

needs of the animals that they hold captive. A more respectful

also finds the time to pursue what he believes in and enjoys. a

living in captivity, he adds, “Zoos cannot provide for the complex SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

ibility of moving between his many roles with relative ease and

REVIEW

book `

land of the ‘free’

BY ZEHRA ABID

Don’t let the attractive title and cover fool you — Sana Haroon’s Frontier of Faith, which examines the importance of religious movements in the historically independent tribal areas, may be exhaustively researched but it is also a tediously academic read.

Focusing on the period from 1890 to 1950, the book highlights the intrinsic independence of the tribal areas that could not be incorporated into the ‘settled’ society of British India. As early as 1868, the tribal region was referred to as “Yaghistan” (land of the free). While travelling to the area, a colonel from the Indian Army described the region as a “forbidden land…where no Englishman had ever been...It was impossible to go inside” he wrote, “and if you did your bones would be left there.”

The book perpetuates a stereotypical image of the area, insofar as it makes religiosity seem like an innate characteristic of the tribal people. Haroon gives an extensive account of the ‘pirimuridi’ (relationship between teacher and disciple) line and the various systems of Sufi practice before moving to a description of the shift away from Sufi methods to a ‘standardised’ teaching of the Quran. The local ‘mulla’ (cleric) is shown to have a pivotal role in the functioning of the region and exercises supreme authority over the area’s tribesmen. Anecdotal evidence cited in the book shows the power of religious leaders to completely alienate people from society to the extent that if a person was ostracised, he could not even be helped for burying the dead.

Discussing the regional movements by the Pakhtuns in the 1930s, the book progresses to the latter part of the decade when the region’s independence was recognised by the All India Muslim League. This led to the support of the League in the tribal region and anti-Hindu sentiment rose among people. After partition in 1947, as news of mass killings between Sikhs, Hindus and Muslims reached the tribal region, the Pakhtuns reacted by invading Kashmir on October 22, 1947. The author believes that the invasion was more a result of a lack of resources in the tribal areas as opposed

deadly dull Merely a few pages into the first chapter, one is inclined to put the book away to resentment towards Hindus. However, in order to thank the tribes for their mobilisation into Kashmir, Mohammed Ali Jinnah decided to withdraw all signs of an army presence from the region and made them semi-autonomous.

Frontier of Faith makes no pretension of having been written for pleasurable reading. Merely a few pages into the first chapter, one is inclined to put the book away. The author includes details that would be better left in a PhD thesis, and it is often difficult not to lose track of specificities when various people are introduced in one paragraph. That one keeps on reading, despite all of this, goes to show just how relevant and interesting the subject of religion in the tribal areas is right now. Unfortunately though, the purely academic 49 style of writing makes reading till the end a wearisome task. a SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

THE HATER

10 things I hate about ... Pakistani television

1 2 3 4 5

Morning shows. Call me boring and old fashioned, but

I’m more disturbed than entertained when I see heavily made up middle-aged aunties hopping around singing Ringa-Ringa-Roses and acting like lovestruck teenyboppers on air! With the hideous amount of money these morning show hosts are making these days, is it

a crime to expect a bit more maturity and ‘content’ on their shows?

The god-awful ads. Not so much the quantity but

quality, For twenty odd years I have watched every household item under the sun being sold by singing housewives … which is plain sad — and frustrating —

considering the amount of ‘talent’ and ‘creativity’ we supposedly possess!

Political analysts hogging prime time. Granted they’re

our saviours and they keep us up-to-date on the latest misadventures of our brilliant, self-effacing leaders, but seriously…the very sight of some of these rowdy

and heavily opinionated ‘celebrity anchors’ with their anything-to-up-my-ratings antics is reason enough to dread watching Paki telly post 8pm!

Celebrity witchdoctors with their implausible totkas — no, you won’t turn into Snow White by applying a mixture of crushed garlic, rose petals, red ants and lizard poo on your face!

Breaking news fixation. This just in: Kareena Kapoor went to the loo three times today instead of

two. Also, Pir Pagara suggests we buck up because

he can hear, once again, the sweet thud of army boots marching towards parliament. Seriously?

50 SEPTEMBER 4-10 2011

BY SAAD ZUBERI

6 7 8 9 10

Middle-aged protagonists playing twenty-something kids — I won’t take names, but you know who you are,

so do yourselves a favour and stop accepting roles that should ideally go to actors that don’t need to inject their faces with Botox just to look the part!

Desi ghost hunters — you’ve got to be kidding me!

The drama content. But then, if our producers think it’s A-OK to address every societal issue under the sun

right from extramarital affairs and illegitimate children to rape and prostitution at prime time sans any rating whatsoever, then who am I to object?

The slapstick political humour and mimicry. Seriously, a bald impersonator dressing up in white shalwar-

kameez-coatee and affecting a Yoda brogue to mimic Nawaz Sharif was hilarious five years ago because it was, well, original. Today, it’s plain annoying!

All the food — people are dying of hunger in our country

for crying out loud! Stop shoving qormas and biryanis and Zinger burgers and pizzas in our faces day in and out!

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