|
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
   |
Let
truth be the prejudice By Ather Naqvi What do friends and traffic jams have in common? Nothing apparently! But in our part of the world, these two are not always separable on some occasions, such as during the visit of a foreign high level dignitary from a 'friendly' country. Lahoris are known for their hospitality. This is what we have heard growing up. But one thing we learnt after we had grown up was: there is a limit to everything, especially to one's patience. This very element, which is in short supply generally, was put to test on various signals across Lahore the other day. Town
Talk By Arshad Shafiq Nizami Economic development is linked with modern and efficient means of transportation and Pakistan Railways provides the largest network of transportation, besides being one of the biggest employers of the country with 130,000 workers. Workshops and their workers always play an important role to keep rolling stock operative. Knowing the significance of workshops, British India Government developed a solid network of rail factories, which were later transferred to Pakistan after its establishment in 1947. Finding new
ways Language is a tool which is used to communicate ideas, express feelings and share emotions. Every country has its national language which is representative of its culture, values, norms and traditions. Pakistan's national language is Urdu and ideally Urdu should be given preference over all other regional and foreign languages within the country. Being an international language, significance of English cannot be denied but it seems by the general attitude of people that English is actually our primary language and Urdu is our secondary language. People feel proud to speak English rather than speaking Urdu.
Let truth be the prejudice A photography exhibition at Shakir Ali Museum was essentially timeless and true to its name 'Rang Barse' By Aasim Akhtar "The picture is not made by the photographer; the picture is more good or less good in function of the relationship that you have with the people you photograph." -- Sebastiao Salgado
Rang Barse! The very
phrase calls up myriad conflicting visual images: teeming cities with
flower bedecked cattle wandering among the The images presented by
five distinguished photojournalists /pictorialists in 'Rang Barse' at
Shakir Ali Museum in Lahore, are very different ones. Drawing upon the
traditions of Pakistan's villagers, they help us to begin to comprehend
the inner logic behind the numberless acts of devotion that occur each
day, many of which involve the adornment of homes, the creation of clay
vessels and rallis. They show us how, in traditions of dress, we can read
the complicated ethnic relationships that characterise the societal matrix
of the rural people whom they have photographed so diligently.
Consequently, the world presented here is village rather than city, local
and regional rather than national, peaceful rather than chaotic, spiritual
rather than sensational, and despite the vast changes taking place,
essentially timeless.
Let us begin with the sounds of a phrase – Rang Barse – and the power with which the hypnotic cadences of a few syllables manage to convey the promise of mysteries as old as time. The myriad faces of tradition have shaped the mirror in which the child of the desert has always contemplated itself, bewitched by the force of an image that goes back thousands of years. Magnificent yet terrible
beauty, when one takes a deeper look into the real meaning of why these
forms of life have remained unchanged, as if trapped in a time warp. This
most unusual survival of form is inextricably linked to the endurance of a
system which strives to keep the society divided and well ordered, with
everything forever in its place. A complex order based on religious
notions that designate what is 'pure', focusing on every possible human
activity, ritualizing every aspect of daily life, which has been there for
around four thousand years. If there is anywhere in the world where one
can anytime, anywhere, measure the power of what is regarded as 'sacred'
to design the lives of men, then that place is here. And nowhere is this
truer than in the desperately poor and conservative regions of Pakistan,
whose people staunchly resist the temptation to renounce ancestral norms
and practices that clash violently with the expectations and requirements
of a modern lay state.
There are no half tones in the Cholistan desert, where everything the eye rests upon either explodes with life or else constitutes the very image of emptiness; where everything that is not endless wastes of sand, or broken limestone and dry, dusty shrubs, is an astounding mixture of breathtaking colours. As if the exuberance of these explosions of colour were conceived as a spiritual antidote against the deprivation imposed by the harshness of the natural environment, in these endless horizons, where barefoot peasant women – who work from dawn to dusk chopping stones with which to repair highways, or walk mile after mile with gallons of water in shiny brass pots balanced on their heads, or carry mountainous loads of fodder for their famished herds – move with infinite grace, like queens wrapped in splendid arrays of bright colours, silhouetted against the monochrome aridity of the landscape; bold colours like the high-pitched voices of an ancestral tongue that flows through old pink, blue, white and gold cities that spring up like mirages in the middle of nowhere. The photographers came into contact with people throughout Pakistan, and it is around this contact that they believe their work revolves. The informed empathy and
the outsized beauty of so many of Nadeem Khawar's images serve to
transcend the common journalistic shorthand that depicts people
reductively, according to the degree of their latest victimisation. This
shorthand also tends to render its subjects anonymous, whether it's the
Hunza child wondering at the flower or the young man carrying a basketful
of flowers.
Yet photographers are caught in a curious bind. Umair Ghani, the organiser of this exhibition and a participating artist, who at various times derides the documentary impulse in favour of the visual drama, the pursuit of an unfolding choreography, is well aware of the reality/unreality that one is constantly coming up with, the inevitable intermix of fiction and non fiction. One might say that, while respecting the facts of a situation, Ghani attempts to recreate, through visual metaphor, what he sees as its essential human drama – the invisible made visible. Arif Ali's work, while
confined to the moment by the mechanics of the camera, is drawn less to
celebrating and taming an instant's arbitrariness, its material
manifestations, but more to articulating its eternity, its ephemeral
profundity, and to locating a mythic, entwining presence. This aspect of
his approach is something he has in common with Waseem Niaz and Mehmood
Qureshi, the other two participants in the show, drawn to what has been
called a 'magical realism.' Similarly, while recognizing the individual's
singular importance in his images, he is also quick to draw relationships
to the universal. There is, enmeshed in his document of the moment, a
resonating lyric, a sense of the epic, an iconic landscape, such as where
the monsoon-soaked child runs before the traffic to cross the road or a
group of young people celebrating Holi.
There are poetic liberties taken. It is a romantic view that Waseem Niaz espouses, one that is loyal to the dignity of the person depicted while circumventing some of the complexities of his or her existence. But when one juxtaposes the images with their various contexts, the lyricism can become particularly searing. The people in Mehmood Qureshi's stunning portfolio inhabit a powerful quietude that greatly differs from the noisy materialism of the urban metropolis. There is an exalted beauty to the people – a woman with diseased eyes and a nose pin radiates a visionary sadness, the face that screams innocuous excuse for charity that eases guilty consciences at Mela Chiraghan. A bruising conflict is created between the formal radiance of the imagery and their agonizing content as a proud, attractive people continue to suffer. Are these photographs, these figures of tragic grandeur, carvings in stone or wood by a sculptor in despair? Having no relation to the tourism of poverty, these photographs do not violate but penetrate the human spirit in order to reveal it. They have been stripped of everything but they have dignity. That is the source of their ineffable beauty. As an article of consumption, poverty is a source of morbid pleasure and much money. Poverty is a commodity that fetches a high price on the luxury market. Consumer-society photographers approach but do not enter. In hurried visits to scenes of despair or violence, they climb out of the plane or helicopter, press the shutter release, explode the flash: they shoot and run. They have looked without seeing and their images say nothing. Their cowardly photographs soiled with horror or blood may extract a few crocodile tears, a few coins, a pious word or two from the privileged of the earth, none of which changes the order of their universe. Somehow, in a quieter, more austere mood, this is what this exhibition also asks. One has to look and listen to the music of the hoi polloi. And then, one might be able to ask the question in reverse – what about us?
MOOD STREET S T R E E T What do friends and traffic jams have in common?
Nothing apparently! But in our part of the world, these two are not always
separable A guest is a rehmat (blessing). But this age-old saying seems to have been challenged by the people who were overheard saying certain not-so-nice things about the whole affair. Waiting for the signal to turn green, they rhymed rehmat with zehmat, which roughly means curse. One should not believe everything one overhears from a profusely sweating elderly who is carrying three of his little kins on a rickety motorbike that won't start easily again once its old engine runs out of breath. Though very few of us might have caught a glimpse of the Turkish President on his visit to the city, even a rehri wala knew for sure that the President was here simply because, only a few hours ago, his cart was confiscated by the police walas, hurled up on a metropolitan truck, and taken away. It was an unusually warm day on a March afternoon, or so it seemed on a hot tarmac. The car engines kept grumbling under burning bonnets while motorcyclists somehow trickled down through the narrow side-lanes and across the bumper-to-bumper vehicles. Was the traffic moving? Or was it a mirage? Our city traffic planners did a tremendous job of blocking entry to all the roads leading to the heart of Lahore. The Mall, the main artery that connects the north Lahore to the south was far beyond one's reach on many points. The fate of other main roads was not very different either. What to do? One had the only option of making the most of such occasions that seemed to be everlasting. Play the music your heart beats to or give a call to your sweetheart that you missed on the Valentine's Day. It will be good exchanging a note or two with your neighbour next door. Unsettling still? Stroll up to the barrier and grill the poor constable with all the queries that he has no clue about and show that you have lost so much in terms of money during the last half an hour or so. Make your mark, man! You're not so lucky if you took the incident to your heart. Never mind the blaring and howling ambulances in the background; this is what they are meant for. And if you thought traffic jams were about a concert on the roofs of long vehicles or sharing ice-creams under the blazing sun as some advertisements show, you're certainly in for a surprise. This is the real world where bumping against the other vehicle may leave you with a blue eye. But then having rendered immobile for some time isn't always without its share of peculiarities, interesting ones. Adding fuel to the fire is certainly the never-ending numbers of schools and college vans which cannot wait to change the lane or apply emergency brakes right in front of you. At a road choked with vehicles of various types, including the two-wheel thing we call donkey cart and the modern day tonga we call "chingchi" in local parlance, one comes across people who do not think twice before hurling a variety of not-so-decent combination of words on those responsible for the situation. But brains always count; you're smart and lucky only when you make the right move by pulling your car ahead of others without caring if it was their turn to move. Lucky you!
* Photographs of the British contemporary photographer Malcolm Hutcheson titled 'Ganda Nala' at Zahoor-ul-Ikhlaq Gallery, NCA till 30th April.
* Photography Exhibition Rang Barsey at Shakir Ali Museum till Fri, Apr 16.
* Exhibition of paintings titled Desert Hues by S. A. Noory at Vogue Art Gallery till Apr 15. The gallery remains open from 5 to 8:30 pm.
* Exhibition of Works by Zara Mahmood & Sohpiya Khwaja at Rohtas Gallery till Apr 17.
* Play: Dara on the life and times of Mughal prince Dara Shikoh on April 16, 17 & 18 at Alhamra Hall 2.
* Vaneeza Ahmed Lawn Show in Lahore at Pakistan School of Fashion and Design (PFDC), 10-Q, Gulberg-2 till Apr 14.
* Pakistan International Education Exhibition at Hotel Pearl Continental on Apr 14-15. Reduced to repair shop The Pakistan Railways workshops which once manufactured all that the Railways needed, are doing only repair work now By Arshad Shafiq Nizami Economic development is linked with modern and
efficient means of transportation and Pakistan Railways provides the
largest network Carriage and Wagon Workshops, Loco Workshop and Steel Workshop are the main Pakistan Railways workshops in Lahore at Mughalpura. All these three workshops carry out repair and maintenance works and nothing new is produced in these workshops, however new coaches and wagons are made at CDL Workshop, Islamabad. Loco Workshop repairs diesel, electric and steam locomotives, Steel Workshop has furnaces to melt and mould bars and other iron objects and Carriage and Wagon Workshops deal with all kinds of repair works related to coaches and bogies. These rolling stock workshops are controlled by Pakistan Railways Lahore divisional superintendent office, Mughalpura. Before the establishment of Pakistan, the entire railway system of the subcontinent, North Western Railways (NRW), more than double the size of present Pakistan Railways, was controlled and managed from Lahore. Surrounded by iron bars and wires, Carriage and Wagon Workshops was established in 1908. It has over 15 to 20 different shops including wagon shop, diesel shop, paint shop, electric shop, wheel shop, welding shop, spring shop, lifting shop, AC shop, light shop, fire-brigade shop, Loharkhana, Darsikhana, carriage store and six sections called SER I to VI which repair brakes. The workshop has neither security cameras nor walkthrough gates and the guards at the workshop are without metal detectors. The workshop workers are without security gadgets and uniforms, giving an impression that they are working in an ordinary local factory instead of Asia's largest railway workshops. Workshops are considered lifeline to rolling stock but Pakistan Railways workshops are on the decline. In the beginning, these workshops produced all the required equipment and tools but now they just repair the things while Pakistan Railways purchases all new materials from outside, opening the door to kickbacks and commissions to its officials. These workshops lack state-of-the-art technology and have obsolete machinery due to which PR, the backbone of the transportation system in the country, is sliding day-by-day. Railway is the most popular means of transportation in Pakistan as it serves about 170 million people living in an area of 310 thousand square miles. Pakistan Railways has its vast railway line network from Khyber Pass to Karachi along the plains of Punjab, Sindh, the River Indus and Sukkur to Quetta, which terminates at Chaman on Afghan border. It has also two international rail links with Iran and India. It links with Zahidan from Kuhi-Taftan, the last railway station of Pakistan on the Iranian border, after covering 60 miles area inside Iran and the second international rail link is with India through Wagha, 15 miles from Lahore. According to a PR official, a project for making about 500 new bogies is likely to start at Mughalpura Locomotive Workshop under a team of Chinese experts, engineers, mechanics and technicians. Actually, China is investing in rail sector in Pakistan and this new project is totally financed by China, the official said on condition of anonymity. In PR workshops old engines are repaired and overhauled. Pakistan Railways' century-old locomotives imported from France, Germany and America before the partition are in very good condition. On the other hand, the 40 new engines imported by Pakistan Railways in recent past along with 200 coaches, have developed major faults as girders lifting the whole machine engines have broken, TNS learnt from a reliable source at the Pakistan Railways.
Email: nizami_shafiq@hotmail.com
Waiting for minimum wage Labourers working on contract at the biggest Pakistan Railways workshops at Mughalpura do not get even minimum wage which is Rs 6,000 as promised by Prime Minister Yusuf Raza Gilani a year back. Pakistan Railway Carriage and Wagon Workshops is the biggest workshop of the country, stretched over 25 acres of land with over 5,000 labourers, about one thousand of them working on contract at Rs.5,400 salary per month. According to a PR official, there were 15,000 workers in the factory till 1980. "When army officers were appointed in Pakistan Railways during the Musharraf regime, they did massive layoffs in the workshop, ultimately affecting its working," the official said on condition of anonymity. Contract employees do not enjoy medical and other facilities as other PR permanent workers. Talking to TNS, Muhammad Arif and Anwar Gujjar, two union leaders say the workshops labourers are the hardest hit by price-hike and inflated utility bills. Workforce is always the backbone of an organisation but the labourers of PR workshops are in miserable condition because of their low wages. In front of the workshops, there is a long line of dozens of fruit and vegetable shops and pushcarts that pay rent to Pakistan Railways but these shops have no attraction for the labourers who hardly manage a meal with Rs 5,400 per month. Sheds along the workshops meant for the workers, are in a shambles, particularly the sheds in front of the PR divisional superintendent office have broken benches and roofs occupied by dogs and addicts. In the break that the workers get from 12:30 to 1:30 pm, it becomes very difficult for them to sit under these sheds as most of them are not only without roofs but also stink and remain overcrowded by outsiders. --ASN Finding new ways Laundries have switched to gas-run
irons in the absence of electricity Many laundry shops, especially in low-ranking
commercial areas of the provincial metropolis are compelled to use
Liquefied Petroleum Strolling through the streets of Ichhra Shopping Center, one can easily observe the ordinary laundrymen doing pressing work with LPG and Sui gas run irons due to 12-14 hours of load shedding in a day. Load shedding is far more prolonged in the rural areas of the country. A laundryman said that he bought a 4 kg LPG cylinder for Rs 300 and the cylinder runs for about two days if the work is in full swing. According to statistics, the price of the LPG also varies from city to city. The prices are Rs 70, 71, 73 and 78 in Karachi, Lahore, Peshawar and rural areas respectively. In recent days the price in the city areas have gone up to Rs 85/kg. The shop-owner said it was economical to use the LPG or Sui gas run irons owing to the already high electricity tariff which is further increasing day by day. He said obviously he needed electricity for other ordinary chores during business hours. The profit margin is more if they use LPG instead of electricity to run irons. It is also noteworthy that an iron consumes much more electricity than any other electrical gadget. "Electricity is the only basic utility low-grade workers like me use in the service industry. It is deplorable if we do not get this basic need without any halt," says a laundryman. It is worth-mentioning here that in view of the accumulated gap between the revenue and cost, Ministry of Finance had suggested tariff increase in three stages which came very harsh, especially on the poor domestic and commercial consumers. According to the recommended tariff increase which was decided in the business plan meeting of May 2009 in Ministry of Finance, a tariff increase of 6pc was announced in July 2009, the second one came in January 2010 and the third was to come on 1st April 2010 but it is still not implemented. It would be charged in the coming days. Moreover, the use of LPG run iron has its own hazards. The lighting process of these irons can also cause the clothes at the shop to catch fire which can ultimately spread on a larger scale especially in a congested commercial area. It is on record that short-circuiting in a shop in Bhandara Center Ichhra caused fire and huge financial loss some two or three years back. Similarly, an old laundry shop owner told this correspondent that he could not use these LPG run irons because it might cause Asthma in the long run. Mind your language There are a number of 'spoken English' institutions in the city and a huge number of students eager to learn the language By Saher Rabbani and Umber Nawaz Language is a tool which is used to communicate ideas,
express feelings and share emotions. Every country has its national
language In our society, people who can talk fluently in English language are considered educated and sophisticated. Even in schools and colleges, students who can verbalize in English language are considered 'cool'. The cachet attached to being comfortable with English language has made it a must-have tool for most young people. So in order to fit in this so called cool crowd and to show off their education, people try to learn this language and nowadays they are getting the refuge from spoken English institutions. These are the institutes which try to improve English language of the enrolled students. There are at least 100 such institutions in Lahore which claim to make you speak English eloquently in a month or two. Mr. Rana Asim, manager and professor of English department in BETS (British Education and Training System) says, "Duration cannot be fixed in this regard because here we are talking about teaching a language, not a course or a book. We get almost 3000 students per year. It usually depends on the student himself as self learning and self improvement are very vital in learning a language so time period cannot be set. It can take up to years to learn a language completely. All we do in our institute is to give our students some path to start with. ." When asked about the qualifications of the teachers they hire, he said, "There is no set criterion to hire a teacher, he should be capable enough to teach English language, however no particular qualification is required in this regard." The question arises why every other person seeks to learn this language. The reason is the great divide in the society. Those who attend reputed private schools have impressive spoken English skills as compared to those who go to government and low standard private schools. Our mother tongue may be Urdu, Punjabi, Pashto or Sindhi but when we go for a job interview we are expected to answer in English. Speaking English also adds to ones class. A student studying in a very reputed Spoken English teaching institute says, "I am quite a good looking, the only flaw in my personality is that I can't talk eloquently in English. That's why I am here." It is quite obvious that for many people, especially young people, speaking English is somewhat a status symbol. For some people, talking in fluent English is a necessity, especially those who are applying for immigration and job seekers. Students, lawyers, doctors and housewives also come to these institutions. Humaira, a housewife says, "I have come to a spoken English institute because my daughter is growing up and I want to talk to her in English. I hope to improve her language skills as well." Ahmed, a 24 year old boy says, "I want to work in a call center as they are paying quite well and I can manage such a job along with my studies. The only problem is that I can write English but don't have confidence when it comes to speaking the language, the reason why I am here." There are a number of esteemed 'spoken English' institutions which are trying their level best to give that confidence to their students. They have dedicated faculty and a nice learning environment. These institutes try to improve English language, particularly, speaking skills of the enrolled students through different techniques like presentations, dramas, dialogues, class discussions and other activities that encourage speaking English. Students are encouraged and motivated to speak English through these activities. Some of the students who are shy or lack self confidence are given counseling sessions as well in order to improve their confidence level. There are other institutes as well whose sole purpose is to make money, robbing innocent people in the name of education. Hassan, a teacher at a reputed 'spoken English' institute claims, "Most of the language teaching institutes don't have proper faculty to cater the needs of students. Teaching a foreign language is an art, not everyone is capable of." Ayesha, who ended up wasting time at such a low standard institute says, "It was a total waste of time, effort and money. I didn't learn anything. They gave us trash novels to read in order to enhance our language. I was really disappointed with the way they taught us." We definitely cannot deny the importance of English language but some initiative should be taken by the Education Ministry to end the gap between private and government education systems. Also there should be a check on institutions which are substandard. Efforts should be made to learn the language but it should be kept in mind that you have to try really hard and have patience and the result will be worth it.
|
|
urban poor; dark-eyes, mysterious jeweled and veiled women in colourful
ghagras; similarly dark-eyed children, the eyes imploring us for a meal;
or the gleaming and pristine spires of Masjid Wazir Khan. But these
stereotypical images of Pakistan, too often created by travel ads, social
agency appeals for help, news clips and the occasional television
documentary, only begin to suggest the complexity and richness of
Pakistani culture. Focusing on customs that we perceive to be exotic, even
sensational, and on the urban problems confronting Pakistan today, these
images – if left intact and unexamined – rob us of a true understanding of
the diverse people and places that comprise modern Pakistan.
on some occasions, such as during the visit of a foreign high level
dignitary from a 'friendly' country. Lahoris are known for their
hospitality. This is what we have heard growing up. But one thing we
learnt after we had grown up was: there is a limit to everything,
especially to one's patience. This very element, which is in short supply
generally, was put to test on various signals across Lahore the other day.
of transportation, besides being one of the biggest employers of the
country with 130,000 workers. Workshops and their workers always play an
important role to keep rolling stock operative. Knowing the significance
of workshops, British India Government developed a solid network of rail
factories, which were later transferred to Pakistan after its
establishment in 1947. 
Gas (LPG) and Sui gas run irons on account of the chronic energy crisis in
the country. 
which is representative of its culture, values, norms and traditions.
Pakistan's national language is Urdu and ideally Urdu should be given
preference over all other regional and foreign languages within the
country. Being an international language, significance of English cannot
be denied but it seems by the general attitude of people that English is
actually our primary language and Urdu is our secondary language. People
feel proud to speak English rather than speaking Urdu. 