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review The venue
may have changed Metaphysical man Zia Mohyeddin column
An entire universe of complaints The man who made the term" Economic Hit Man" enter the vernacular is back with a new book By Jazib Zahir Hoodwinked By John Perkins Publisher: Broadway Books Pages: 256 Price: Rs 1450 Conspiracy theories about the imperialistic ambitions of the United States are nothing new. John Perkins stirred controversy several years ago with his Confessions of an Economic Hit Man in which he blew the whistle on the inside story of American institutions that attempted to saddle third world countries with debt as a step to accessing their natural resources and obtaining political influence over them. While many of the anecdotes were never corroborated, the description of American foreign policy as a systematic web of deceit allowed the term "Economic Hit Man" to enter the vernacular. Building on the success of the first book, John Perkins is back with a new premise. He wants to explain why the financial markets imploded in the recent recession and offer suggestions as to how we can safeguard ourselves against future apocalypses. Predictably, the early parts of the book borrow heavily from his earlier title often narrating the same incidents. Many of these incidents cast him as an innocent victim of a system that attempts to seduce and indoctrinate its employees. While these graphic narrations of interacting with powerful men and deceptive women add cinematic drama to the book, the narrations often border on the unrealistic and you are forced to question how much is real and how much is a figment of his imagination. The early parts of the book are devoted to quantifying the extent of the recession. Data is hurled at the reader to enable him to digest the severity of unemployment triggered by the crisis and the unlikelihood of complete recovery. Perkins then attempts to analyse the underlying causes of the crisis by bringing out the aforementioned anecdotes from his career and then glossing over the obvious culprits like the short-sightedness and avarice of financial managers. No one is spared as icons like Bill Gates and Jack Welch are vilified as managers who will grow their corporations and wealth at all costs. The first third of the book thus offers no surprises but if it sustains your attention till this point, you may be in for some pleasant surprises. Perkins is obviously a well-read academic and he now attempts to trace the economic history of America. He explains how economic ideologies have fluctuated between different governments and brought us to a point where regulations are minimal and the chances for a crisis were ripe. Perkins disparages the current state of the American economy as a system of "paper pushers" where manufacturing is dying out and growth is only generated on paper. He saves the most ire for the "corporatocracy", a galaxy of influential individuals who vacillate between government and the corporate world and thus ensure that political policies enable them to maximize their personal wealth. Perkins puts forward an original thesis on how the marketing muscle of the US allows corporations to grow even when they are producing goods that are not adding to the value of individual lives. This is padded with more familiar arguments about the adverse effects of globalisation and negligence of environmental standards. While the superficial reasons underlying the crisis have been beaten to death by other writers, Perkins has genuinely mapped out the causes in a chronological and holistic manner to convince us that the recession was inevitable. To Perkins' credit he does not reduce the book to a series of laments and accusations. He wants to suggest positive remedies to bestow all of us with a more robust future. He is in awe of the Chinese economy and governance. He describes his interactions with Chinese academics and students and posits a fairly convincing argument that their system of governance may in fact be more transparent than that of a democratic nation like the United States. Their work ethic and commitment to restoring the environment provide valuable lessons for all nations. Perkins ends the book on a plea to his readers to be more proactive about defining economic policies of the future. He wants us to refuse to purchase goods that harm the environment in the hope that corporations will ultimately succumb to the pressure and realize that their primary responsibility is the betterment of our planet and our lives. This will reduce the emphasis on wastage and paper profits that Perkins sees as key to the financial crisis. The book is guaranteed to draw attention due to the controversial nature of the content and the author's history. There are times when it feels that Perkins has attempted to condense his entire universe of complaints with the American government into one book and thus it begins to lose a specific purpose. But there are plenty of gems within the rough and any reader should be able to glean some tangible and inspirational messages from this effort. The venue may have changed Meeting the oldies at one of the new literary haunts, it seems the "greasy, smoky, loud" place called Pak Tea House will not be easily forgotten By Farah Zia Pak Tea House in Lahore was like home for the intellectual
migrants of 1947 and equally so for natives. After staying nearly half-dead
for the last two decades of its existence, it saw a formal closure in 2004.
The inmates became homeless once again. A restaurant owner offered them to come and sit there. For some reason they didn't like the place. One of them asked a friend in a five star hotel on Lahore's Mall Road to house them on concessional tea rates. They got one table in a corner and resumed their literary discussions in the evening. After three or four weeks, they felt uncomfortable in an environment that was rather "too posh" for them. "But we can't throw our cigarette butts on the floor or talk loudly," one of them complained. "And if the uniformed man at the entrance gets to know that I come on foot, he won't open the door for me," cribbed another one. For old time's sake, they now settled for a McDonald's branch that was close to the tea house. "But this is too noisy," they found on day one. The manager put them on the first floor. "Well, sorry, but isn't this too quiet?" they asked. Intizar Husain, the most respected voice among the tea-house crowd, wanted to try out an art gallery near his house which he thought was both quiet and noisy enough for their needs. The owner of Nairang Gallery, architect Nayyar Ali Dada, spotted them and offered them free tea for the first two weeks so that they stay on. They did but on a weekly basis. It is here they would meet every Sunday, it was decided. By then the homeless people of Pak Tea House had been divided into many groups, each one going to a different place that had been created to replace the tea house. But Pak Tea House continues to exist in people's memories as representing a golden period which they can't bring back. "People realised the importance of tea house only after it was closed," reminisces Intizar Husain, in his old beautiful Jail Road house. As a matter of fact, the best replacement of the tea house is Husain's house itself. Zahid Dar, the quaint book-reader who spent his entire life in the tea house and was hence the worst orphan after its closure, chose Husain's house to spend his evenings and all the old friends started coming here. The venue may well have changed but like before Husain still foots the tea bill. 1947 changed this part of the world in more ways than one. It also changed India Tea House in old Anarkali near Nila Gumbad to Pak Tea House. Together with the Coffee House, the new variant of India Coffee House, it soon became the favourite haunt of the intellectuals and the literati, many of whom had migrated from India. This has been attributed to the literary sensibility of its "post-Partition owners, two brothers from India." Muhammed Umar Memon in the "Annual of Urdu Studies" writes: "The Pak Tea House was not merely a place where writers hung out and passionately discussed literature, the arts, and politics, or where they held their literary meetings and dreamed their brave, fragile dreams, or where they stopped on their way to and from work every day for a brief chat, it was unique as a gathering place which never denied its hospitality to anyone, even those who could not afford to pay for a cup of tea. It chose to operate at a loss rather than submit to the indignity of closing its doors to the nations' destitute and chronically disenfranchised intellectuals." Today, Zahid Dar, Ikramullah and Ahmed Aqeel Ruby are the constants at Intizar Husain's house. They recollect quite a few places that have been set up for writers -- like Chopal in Nasir Bagh, Adabi Baithak in Alhmara, Nairang Gallery and Aiwan-e-Iqbal apart from Intizar's house but none of them, they think, can replace the tea house adequately. Zahid Dar feels he is uprooted for life. Intizar Husain thinks they can arrange for venues but how will they bring those people back. "Where will you find Munir Niazi and Nasir Kazmi? That whole community has disappeared. Now there is just a crowd left." Ruby says in the 1950s and 60s there were people from whom they could learn. "Today there are only chaotic voices. Even though contemporaries sit together and listen to each other's work, it is just a limited circle." Intizar Husain recalls that time as one when the restaurant culture was alive. In a small stretch of the Mall Road, there were a number of tea houses and restaurants like Metro, Lords, Gardenia. "You can only talk over tea, not over lunch or dinner. Now it's all about eating. There is no such tea house left on the Mall. This is the era of food streets. The restaurant culture has come to an end." Those who came to the tea houses were never in a hurry. They could sit for hours and brood over ideas over endless cups of tea. For Ikramullah, "the entire scenario has changed. Everyone is only interested in making more money in less time." Of course the scenario has changed. People are not reading or writing in their mother tongues any more. The English-reading moneyed class can afford to buy books but the rest can't. The middle class is shrinking in our society. Worst of all, the global scenario looks the same. Intizar Husain says: "When we were growing up, we heard big names like Eliot, Pound, Joyce, Lawrence, Sartre, Camus and Kafka. That sort of towering figure is not available in today's literary tradition." Meeting the oldies at any of the literary haunts in various corners of the city, it seems that the "greasy, smoky, loud" place called Pak Tea House will not be easily forgotten. (A Bengali translation of this piece was published in Guruchandali, a magazine, on the occasion of Kolkata Book fair)
Noon Meem Rashed's poetic world was recently celebrated, discussed and analysed at a seminar held by LUMS By Syed Riswan Ali Noon Meem Rashed (1910 -1975) is one of the most prominent
Urdu poets of the post-Iqbal era. A large number of students, LUMS faculty,
dignitaries, scholars and literary figures of the city gathered on April 16
at the Lahore University of Management Sciences (LUMS) to participate in a
seminar marking Rashed's Centenary Celebrations. Rashed's daughter Nasreen
Rashed and some other relatives were also present at the event. Yasmeen Hameed moderated the seminar, whereas Fateh Muhammad Malik, Mubeen Mirza and prominent literary critic, scholar and fiction writer Shams-ur-Rahman Faruqi presented their papers on Noon Meem Rashed. As the seminar started the participants witnessed a slideshow of Rashed's rare photographs. Many of them were exhibited for the first time in public. Yasmeen Hameed introduced the paper presenters in detail and Dr. Syed Noman ul Haq said the welcome comments on behalf of the host institution. Later Zulkifl, a third year BSc Honours student at LUMS, presented his critical analysis of Rashed's famous poem Hassan Kozagar whereas Wajiha, another student recited Saba Veeran. Presenting his article on Rashed, Mubeen Mirza, a critic and short story writer from Karachi said that the modern man in Rashed's poetry relates himself more to the Oriental tradition than the Western. Yasmeen Hameed read an explanatory note sent by Rashed's daughter, Yasmin Hassan about the cremation of Rashed after he died in 1975. Professor Fateh Muhammad Malik also discussed the concept of man in Rashed's poetry, but in not just the Oriental, but Islamic context as well. A successful visual interpretation of Andha Kabari, one of Rashed's most dramatic poems was presented by Shamshir Haider with the help of Ali Sultan's magical photography. Shams-ur-Rahman Faruqi's paper was certainly the essence of the whole seminar, as he discussed in detail about the craft and topics of Rashed's poetry. He said Rashed's "apology" wazahat in the preface of his book Mavara was misunderstood, as apology means a defence, excuse or justification. He also added that the poet's own experience of life also reflects in his poetry. At the end of the session, questions were taken from the audience after which Yasmeen Hameed concluded the seminar and announced that LUMS is soon going to publish a collection of articles on Noon Meem Rashed.
Once upon a time I must confess that though I have been familiar with a few tales from the Mahabharata from my school days -- such as the gambling match between the Pandavs and Kauravas in which the Pandava king, Yudhishtira, having lost his wealth, his kingdom, his brothers, himself, in throw after throw of the dice, finally stakes his common queen, Draupadi, and loses her too -- had never undertaken the daunting task of reading the epic which runs into two and a half million words, which means it would run into some thirty five volumes of the size of unabridged Concise Oxford dictionaries. The Mahabharata is one of the two great Indian epics which is at least 3500 years old, several centuries older than the Iliad and the Odyssey. The one or two translations that I had seen were treaties on morality and after-life. It was the Christopher Isherwood translation of the Bhawad Gita section, (which I recited on a long playing record in New York several years ago) that prompted me to read some sections which I found in the New York public library. On my trip to India recently I came across R. K. Narayan's book, Mahabharata, with the sub-title, 'A great Indian epic retold by a great Indian writer.' I opened it at random and came across the following passage: "When Krishna departed for Hastinapur, various omens were noticed there. Out of a clear day came rumbling thunder and streaks of lightning, fleecy clouds poured down rain; seven large rivers reversed their direction and flowed westward; the horizons became lazy and indistinguishable. Loud roars were heard from unseen sources in the sky; a storm broke out and trees were uprooted. However, where Krishna's chariot passed, flowers showered down and a gentle cool breeze blew" I was intrigued. This was as good as Tilism-e-Hoshruba, if not better. I began reading it after dinner and could not put it down until I had finished it. It is said that when the vision of the epic came to the author, Vyasa, through the grace of the creator Brahma, he needed someone to take it down as he recited it. The elephant-headed god, Ganesha, accepted the task on the condition that there should be no pause in the dictation. Vyasa accepted the condition, provided that Ganesha realised and understood the meaning of every word before putting it down in writing. What mortal man can have the knowledge to understand every word and what mortal man can have the stamina to dictate twenty four thousand stanzas without a pause? It was a contest that could only have been held between a god and a god. They proceeded. Vyasa dictating at a breathless pace and Ganesha taking it down with matching zest. When at one point his stylus failed, Ganesha broke off one of his tusks and continued the writing. The composer, whenever he found his amanuensis outrunning him, checked his speed by dictating passages, which were so terse and concentrated that Ganesha was compelled to pause, to get at the meaning. Thus, says Narayan in the introduction, there are several passages in Mahabharata which "convey layers of meaning depending upon the stress and syllabification while reciting them aloud". According to Narayan, additions were made at unspecified time by many narrators. Episodes, philosophies and moral lessons were added until the epic came to its present length of one hundred thousand stanzas. It is in this form in, about 400 AD, that the epic originally titled as Jaya (victory) came to be known as Mahabharata. Tales from Mahabharata have been told and retold for the last two thousand years or more. Its principal characters have made a deep impact on popular imagination in India throughout the centuries: the Pandava brothers with their exemplary loyalty and devotion to each other; the Kauravas, less virtuous, but not without nobility, led by a father, blind in life and also blind to his shortcomings; Draupadi who cannot be stripped naked because of Krishna's intervention. Krishna is a major player in the story; he is both human and divine. As an incarnation he upholds virtue and shows a path to salvation; as a human being, he is often worldly and amoral. What attracted R.K. Narayan to the great epic was not the philosophic discussions -- discourses on life and conduct sometimes running into several hundred lines, but the story: "Once upon a time lived a royal family in ancient Hastinapur with five brothers of divine origin on one side and their one hundred cousins on the other side, at war with each other…" The Kauravas were intensely jealous of the splendour of the Pandava court and never lost an opportunity to settle scores with the Pandavas. After the gambling game which the Kauravas won by cheating, the Pandavas were ordered to go into exile for twelve years. When they regained their kingdom after twelve years they, too, thirsted to avenge the dishonour and deprivation they had suffered. War became inevitable and although several sagacious elders tried to make peace, the two sides gathered enormous armies on the plains of Kurukshetra. The fighting lasted eighteen days. Ultimately the Kurava side was almost entirely destroyed. The cessation of the great battle between Kauravas and the Pandavas is only a kind of prelude to the overwhelming moral questions that follow. The characters in the epic seek meaning to their existence. The central character, Yudhishtira, tries to find some justification for what has happened, but is at a loss. Depressed by the news of Krishna's death, the Pandavas decide to leave the world. Yudhishtira alone is gifted with the power to reach heaven in his personal body. At the end of the Mahabharta story the stage becomes blank. Not a single familiar character is left except a child who will eventually become the king and continue the Pandava lineage. The Mahabharata is, like the works of Homer, a powerful and compelling tale. It presents a sweeping panorama that includes Indian ideas of both the cosmos and the divinities that are part of the Indian culture, a culture that we have never really tried to understand. The Mahabharata is generally considered to be the single most influential scripture of Hindu religion and for that reason we do not read it because we don't want to have anything to do with it. But is it also the mother of all Talisms. It is so ambitious in its storytelling and in its definition of the life and history of humanity that it transcends its time and place. In retelling the Mahabharata story, R.K.Narayan brings his consummate skill into play to recreate the rhythm and grandeur of the epic which has endured through the centuries. If we are serious about understanding our neighbours, we should make an attempt at reading it even in a condensed form.
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