Ramazan 2014 ?

Watery-eyed gentleness co-exists with unabashed vulgarity in this new face of Ramazan.
Watery-eyed gentleness co-exists with unabashed vulgarity in this new face of Ramazan.

Remember everything your parents, grandparents, maulvi sahab and Islamiyat teacher taught you about Ramazan? Now try and forget it please because there seems to be no room for those teachings anymore in this country.
Tune in to one of our many local Ramazan transmissions on television and learn everything you need to know about the new face of the holy month.
We fast from sunrise to sunset, making sure our greed and desire to want stays under control, only to unleash it with a vengeance on one of Amir Liaquat or Fahad Mustafa’s Ramazan special shows, to name but two of the prominent ones.
On these shows, you are taught that nothing matters more than winning a Junaid Jamshed suit, a pair of Servis shoes and perhaps a ‘Voice ki gari’.
Forget teachings of charity and brotherhood – it’s time for you to compete with the person next to you, even if you have to make a complete fool of yourself on national television to defeat him or her.
Only recently, on ARY Digital’s Ramazan show ‘Jeeto Pakistan’, the host Fahad Mustafa had lined up a bunch of ladies to compete for a motorbike for their household.
In order to win, they had to cluck like a chicken.
Yes, that seems to be the high point of our evenings these days, watching dolled up giggly ladies being made to do ‘cookroo coo’ in order to win a prize.
It was inevitable perhaps.
A not-so-pretty cake-stuffing contest on ARY's Jeeto Pakistan programme

Every year, brands such as Coca-Cola, Pepsi and Olpers can be seen in Ramazan-special advertisements that suddenly revolve around spirituality and religion. Islamic banking becomes even more popular and restaurants go all out to have grand all-you-can-eat deals to lure customers in.
The essence of simplicity and modesty we are taught to adopt is easily forgotten when religion starts being used a marketing tool. It is thus naïve to expect television channels to hold back from exploiting the religious sentiments of their audience.
Suddenly, popular actors from our drama industry who double as morning show hosts can now be seen adopting a new persona for their Ramazan transmission.
Forget about learned fresh faces, our drama heroes are enough to keep the show going in their stylish sherwanis and shiny kameezes. Criticising their wardrobe – a bit too much?
But then again, they are the face of Ramazan for their respective channels; their grandiosity along with their extravagant sets, contradict the very spirit of what they seem to celebrating.
But where so much hypocrisy plagues our nation, a little more won’t hurt. Especially not when it seems to excite so many around us.
“People love me,” says Amir Liaquat Hussain
Producers of such shows know exactly what to play at.
Package a show with very little substance, lots of free gifts, ‘religious-sounding’ background music and dot the set with an Islamic scholar here and there. There you have it – a Ramazan special show! No need to justify watching such content, it fits in perfectly with your pious routine this month.
Retail Ramazan
Where most shows thrive on humiliating and belittling an over-enthusiastic live audience, there are thankfully others that actually focus on the core teachings of Islam and the essence of this month. Too bad when you dig into ratings, you find them way behind the ones mentioned above.
Instead of enticing greed and desire in an audience by throwing ‘gifts’ at them, it perhaps would have been a refreshing change to have programs focusing on Pakistan’s leading philanthropists. Or perhaps allow the very same products and companies funding these shows, to instead call an audience actually in need of help, and make their Eid dreams come true by giving them those gifts.
14 days later: Entertainment stories dominate Ramazan
This way, they could continue to advertise their brands and actually do something good for society as well. Although if you were to stick with original teachings, doing work for charity looses its essence when publicised, for your intentions behind it may not remain true to the cause.
But would such shows be as much fun as watching a 'learned religious scholar' stuff a man’s face with mangoes?
A brief clip of the infamous mango-stuffing incident during Amir Liaquat's 'Pakistan Ramazan' show

Or watch a man get his head shaved in front of a live audience in order to win a mobile? I guess not, for our masses only enjoy a show if it is infused with such belittling humour. Same goes for our political talk shows at night too, where millions tune in just to watch actors impersonating our politicians and making personal jabs and terrible jokes about the other.
These programs do not reflect our religious spirit or modesty or culture in any way. They instead display our lack of dignity and self-respect.
They allow mere television hosts to humiliate a naïve audience hungry for goodies.
They allow television producers to twist and manipulate religious sentiments and they allow corporations to use us, yet again, to make profit.
But they are not the only culprits. Until and unless the audience doesn’t protest, the show will go on.

Fighting in Gaza, but truce hopes fragile





GAZA CITY: Fighting subsided in Gaza on Sunday after Hamas Islamist militants said they backed a 24-hour humanitarian truce, but there was no sign of any comprehensive deal to end their conflict with Israel.
Hamas said it had endorsed a call by the United Nations for a pause in the fighting in view of the upcoming holiday of Eidul Fitr.
Some firing had continued after the time that Hamas had announced it would put its guns aside and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu questioned the validity of the truce.
“Hamas doesn’t even accept its own ceasefire, it’s continuing to fire at us as we speak,” he said in an interview with CNN.

Israeli rockets pound Gaza, as truce collapses
Nonetheless, Gaza Strip residents and witnesses said Israeli shelling and Hamas missile launches had slowly quietened down through the afternoon, suggesting a de-facto truce might be taking shape as international efforts to broker a permanent ceasefire appeared to flounder.
However, Israel’s military has said it will need more time to destroy a warren of tunnels criss-crossing the Gaza border that it says is one of its main objectives.
Israel and the Hamas Islamists who control Gaza had agreed to a 12-hour ceasefire on Saturday to allow Palestinians to stock up on supplies and retrieve bodies from under the rubble. Netanyahu’s cabinet voted to extend the truce until midnight on Sunday at the request of the United Nations, but called it off when Hamas launched rockets into Israel during the morning.
Palestinian medics said at least 10 people had died in the wave of subsequent strikes that swept Gaza, including a Christian woman, Jalila Faraj Ayyad, whose house in Gaza City was struck by an Israeli bomb.
Some 1,060 Palestinians, mainly civilians and including many children, have been killed in the 20-day conflict. Israel says 43 of its soldiers have died, along with three civilians killed by rocket and mortar fire out of the Mediterranean enclave.
Israel launched its Gaza offensive on July 8, saying its aim was to halt rocket attacks by Hamas and its allies.
After aerial and naval bombardment failed to quell the outgunned guerrillas, Israel poured ground forces into the Gaza Strip 10 days later, looking to knock out Hamas’s rocket stores and destroy the vast network of tunnels.
The army says its drive to find and eliminate tunnels would continue through any temporary truce.
Diplomatic efforts led by US Secretary of State John Kerry to end the 20-day conflict have shown little sign of progress. Israel and Hamas have set conditions that appear irreconcilable.
Hamas wants an end to the Israeli-Egyptian economic blockade of Gaza before agreeing to halt hostilities. Israel has signalled it could make concessions towards that end, but only if Gaza’s militant groups are stripped of their weapons.
Kerry flew back to Washington overnight after spending most of the week in Egypt trying to bridge the divide, putting forward some written proposals to Israel on Friday.
Speaking off the record, cabinet ministers described his plan as “a disaster”, saying it met all Hamas demands, such as lifting the Israeli-Egyptian blockade completely and ignored Israeli terms, such as stripping Hamas of its rockets.
There was no immediate comment from US officials.
The main UN agency in Gaza, UNRWA, said 167,269 displaced Palestinians have taken shelter in the organisation’s schools and buildings, following repeated calls by Israel for civilians to evacuate whole neighbourhoods ahead of military operations.
During the lull in fighting inside Gaza on Saturday, residents flooded into the streets to discover scenes of massive destruction in some areas, including Beit Hanoun in the north and Shejaia in the east.
An Israeli official said the army hoped the widespread desolation would persuade Gazans to put pressure on Hamas to stop the fighting for fear of yet more devastation.
The violence has sparked protests outside the region.
Demonstrators in London marched from the Israeli embassy to the House of Parliament in Whitehall, blocking traffic throughout the West End.
French police clashed with pro-Palestinian protesters who defied a ban by authorities to march in central Paris.
.— File photo

Hitler And Palestinians

As the death toll in Gaza mounts and Israel shows no signs of relenting, netizens across the world have taken to the internet to express their outrage or support for 'Operation Protective Edge'. Unfortunately, these passionate arguments often degenerate into Islamophobia, anti-Arab racism and anti-Semitism.
As a Muslim and a supporter of the Palestinian cause, I find the collective indictment of the entire Jewish race for the war crimes of Israel deeply disturbing. Skim through the comments section of any major online paper and you will invariably find hundreds of sickening anti-Semitic insults targeting Jews.
These slurs are occasionally peppered with cherry-picked verses from the Quran, misinterpreted and taken out of context to claim that Jews are the eternal enemies of Islam. Most disturbing of all is the citation of alleged quotes by Adolf Hitler and veiled praise for the Holocaust. The above image was widely circulated amongst Pakistani social media users of late.
The above image was widely circulated amongst Pakistani social media users of late.
The following are some tweets from Pakistanis outraging against Israeli aggression:
Most of such crass anti-Semitism is rooted in the conflation of Judaism with Zionism.
Zionism is a political ideology, which, although a product of a particular Jewish tradition should not be equated with Judaism. This fact has been stressed repeatedly by anti-occupation Jewish activists across the world who are struggling to reclaim their religious identity and faith from the deafening Zionist propaganda.
In the global Jewish community, there is great diversity with regard to stances on Israel, where some doggedly advocating an end to Israeli occupation and apartheid against Palestinians and still others insisting on dismantling the Jewish state altogether.
We, as Muslims, should understand better than anyone else the injustice of attributing a singular nature to a global religion and demonising a community based on the actions of a sub-set. Is it too much to expect that we extend the same courtesy and understanding to those of another faith?
#BBCtrending: The rise of Hitler hashtags
By indicting all Jews for the Zionist occupation of Palestinian lands, we do a gross injustice and risk alienating the many religious and secular Jews across the world who have joined hands with Palestinians in opposing Israeli policies.
Jewish Voice for Peace is a prominent voice of dissent in the US and is composed of activists who are inspired by Jewish tradition to work against the Israeli occupation of the West Bank, the Gaza Strip and East Jerusalem.
Its advisory board includes rabbis, writers, actors, teachers as well as public intellectuals like Noam Chomsky and Judith Butler who have risked the ire of their community to speak out against Israeli atrocities.
Independent Jewish Voices in Britain, Canada and Australia are examples of other Jewish groups seeking to wrest control of the Jewish narrative away from the Zionist lobby. Many of the most scathing pieces on the Israeli apartheid that manage to find their way into mainstream western media are authored by Jewish writers like Max Blumenthal and Norman Finkelstein .
Within Israel, there is a small but significant group of activists protesting the occupation of Palestinian lands. Let’s not damage the Palestinian cause by pushing away some of its most outspoken allies.
Equating Judaism with Zionism, painting all Jews in the same light and invoking misplaced religious references to condemn the entire Jewish community distorts the reality of the Middle East and reduces the conflict to a simplistic Jews vs Muslims binary.
Those invoking the spectre of the Muslim ummah up against the much vilified Jew would do well to remember that the daily plight of those living in Gaza is compounded by the Egyptian blockade of the strip. Palestinian refugees in countries like Lebanon and Egypt face major discrimination when it comes to employment and accessing basic government facilities like free education.
A recent open letter calling for a military embargo on Israel signed by six Nobel peace laureates as well as many notable figures from across the world was not endorsed by a single Muslim recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize. And let’s not forget the role played by our very own Mard-e-Momin Zia ul Haq in butchering thousands of Palestinians in Jordan during the Black September offensive in 1970-71.
Living in Gaza as the bombs fall - my story
The Palestinian crisis is a complex ethno-religious political conflict over land and resources. Reducing it to merely a religious clash deflects attention from the violation of the human rights of Palestinians and plays into the hands of Israeli propaganda which claims that the sole reason for Arab opposition to Israel is the Arab hatred for Jews.
Moreover, resorting to anti-semitism delegitimises the Palestinian cause and actually strengthens the very popular Zionist strategy of branding any criticism of Israel as anti-semitism. Making vile references to Hitler only makes it easy for the pro-Israel lobby to deploy the Holocaust to amass sympathy and support for its theft of Palestinian land.
The people of Palestine have been struggling for dignity and sovereignty for 66 years. Let us help our brothers and sisters through prayer, aid, advocacy and education on the Palestinian perspective. The Palestinian people have truth on their side. The last thing they need is Hitler quotes screeching ‘Death to all Jews’ on the internet!
As pointed out by a popular meme doing the rounds of Facebook these days, you don’t have to be Muslim to support Gaza. You just have to be human.

Harchand Rai Vishan Das: Karachi's beheaded benefactor





The beheaded statue of the first president of the Karachi Municipality (1911-1922), who brought electricity to the city, Harchand Rai Vishandas. –Photo by Akhtar Balouch The beheaded statue of the first president of the Karachi Municipality (1911-1922), who brought electricity to the city, Harchand Rai Vishandas.

Karachi is called the ‘city of lights’. For the past three decades or so, rulers that have come and gone have been claiming that it will be them who will give this city its lights back. Sadly, they have only remained claims.
Some time ago when political parties made such claims, they would mean to bring the old peaceful days back for Karachi. However, for the past decade, power outages have become just another reason for the darkness that the city endures.
The pre-partition Karachi was not known for being a developed city. The city of lights, as it is so heartedly called, was once host to thousands of kerosene lamps and gas lamps. It was only during 1911 to 1921 when Harchand Rai Vishandas became the president of the Karachi Municipality.
The Journal of the Members of Karachi Municipality, in its 1980 edition, mentions that Harchand Rai Vishandas was the first local resident to become an elected president of the municipality.
With the installation of the first power plant, Karachi came to be known as a modern city. The periodical also says that Harchand Rai’s family belonged to Bombay. However, certain references have proved that he was a local of Sindh. In fact, evidence suggests that his birthplace was a village near the town of Kotri. Not only was he an active social leader, but was also an ideological political worker.
Pir Ali Muhammad Shah Rashidi writes in his book Uhay Ddeenh Uhay Sheenh (Sindhi) that Seth Harchand Rai and his friend Dost Ghulam Muhammad Khan Bhurgri were famous Sindhi citizens. He further writes that it was them who raised the slogan of Sindhi nationalism in front of the British bureaucracy; that there was no shame in being a Sindhi. In fact, that it was a reason of pride.
Rashidi goes on to say,

These were times when any feudal lord visiting any British officer would be asked by the gatekeepers to wait outside, and would only be let in once they removed their footwear.
Commissioner Lucas in those days would sarcastically ask whether they were hooligans. The landlords would reply, “Yes, sir. We are; right from our ancestors to these times.

The weary landlords would fear the wrath of the sahibs, afraid they might be legally charged with something if they said no to anything the sahibs asked.
During his tenure as president of the Karachi municipality, Seth Harchand Rai Vishanchand took many a developmental initiatives. From 1846 to 1884, the Karachi Municipality was a bureaucratic state of the officers and workers. So much so that even the nominated members would not be as powerful as the officers there.
These nominated members would always do as told by the officers. The year 1885 saw the first batch of elected members being indicted into the authority along with the nominated members. It was Harchand Rai’s tireless efforts that turned the Karachi Municipality into a public body.
Gul Hassan Kalmati, a renowned historian, writes in his book on the history of Sindh, especially Karachi, Karachi Jaa Laafani Kirdaar (Sindhi - The immortal figures of Karachi):

Harchand Rai also helped the community organisations representing the various communities of Karachi quite a lot.These organisations were awarded free pieces of land by the municipality so that they could work in a better manner.

These organisations included the Sant Dharam Mandal, the Dosa Kaniya Patshala, the Khwaja Ismaili Council, the Mission Girls School Lohana Wadya Mandal, the Lohana Industrial and Technical Institute and an educational institute affiliated with the Sindhi Madrassa.
Harchand Rai was a Councillor at the municipality when Karachi was struck by a plague during the years 1896 and 1897. To help deal with the situation in the city, Harchand Rai and his cousin set up a temporary medical facility, for which the complete responsibility was also taken by them personally.
Harchand Rai worked day and night with his team. There were reports of theft and looting at the homes of the sick when they were at the hospitals for treatment, Harchand Rai ensured the security of their homes with the help of the law enforcement agencies and the British army.
Before Harchand Rai’s time, there was hardly any road network in Karachi. Footpaths had not even been introduced yet. The construction of roads and footpaths was also one of the many gifts that Harchand Rai bestowed Karachi with.
Asghar Azad, a journalist with immense knowledge of the history and literature of Sindh, tells me that Harchand Rai’s services to the city of Karachi cannot all be mentioned in a single blog. One of them, for instance, is that he did a huge favour to the people of Karachi by changing the course of the Lyari River.
Moti Ram Satram Das talks about the matter of the Lyari River on page 101 of his book Ratan Jot:

The Lyari River used to flow right in the centre of the city. People living near its banks were always at risk. Not only did it pose a threat of a disaster at times, but hazards such as mosquitoes and insects causing diseases such malaria were also present.
To rid the people of Karachi of this problem, Seth Harchand Rai prepared a plan with consultation from experts and engineers. A bund was built on the river at Gandhi Bagh (Karachi Zoo) and the course of the river was changed. Not only did this plan solve a number of problems, but cleared a huge amount of land for another quarter colony to be constructed for residential purposes.
A huge number of people wanted these quarters to be named after Harchand Rai sahib. However, the man candidly disallowed any such thing, stating that until he is responsible for the municipality, he will take no such credit. This alone shows how disciplined a man was he.

Harchand Rai was a progressive man who believed in religious tolerance. In his personal life, as well as the social life he led, he always proved to be exemplifying the ideal that religion is everybody’s personal matter.
 Harchand Rai Vishandas with Mahatma Gandhi. –Photo courtesy of Khadim Hussain Soomro
Harchand Rai Vishandas with Mahatma Gandhi. –Photo courtesy of Khadim Hussain Soomro
Muhammad Usman Damohi writes on page 514 of his book, Karachi Taareekh Kay Aaenay Main:

Some Hindus did not favour the movement to separate Sindh from the Bombay Presidency. However, he [Harchand Rai sahib] participated in the movement, heart and soul, without worrying about the disappointment of his fellow Hindu people.

When Hindu extremists began the Shudhi movement in Karachi, Harchand Rai went public against the initiative (we will talk about the Shudhi movement some other time). Harchand Rai also participated in the boycott of the Simon Commission. In short, he was a selfless social leader.
Dr Mubarak Ali Khan, a renowned historian, told me about the boycott of the Simon Commission. Both the Indian National Congress and the Muslim League of India (led by M. A. Jinnah in those days) were equally participating in the boycott. However, there was another Muslim League in Punjab which was being led by the Sir Muhammad Shafi. This Punjab-based party had welcomed the Simon Commission with arms wide open. Congress and Muslim League claimed that since there is no Indian in the commission, it cannot be recognised.
The Indian legislative assembly was called upon by the Viceroy of India to hold in-house polls on the matter of recognition of the Simon Commission. Harchand Rai, a member of the assembly then, was in Karachi due to bad health.However, when he heard that votes were to be casted he decided he will cast his vote, too. In his book, Ratan Jot, Moti Ram Satram Das writes:

On February 14, he started his journey to Lahore from Karachi aboard the Lahore Mail. By the time the train reached Samasatta, Harchand Rai was so unwell that he was vomiting blood due to the cold weather. He was told to abort travel and get proper medical attention, but he would not change his mind.
On the morning of February 16, he reached Delhi in a miserable state of health. He was on a wheelchair when he was being brought from the train to the receiving car.Everyone around him wanted to take him to the hospital, but the stubborn man would not go anywhere but the assembly hall. On his way to the house, his condition kept deteriorating. He breathed his last as he reached the entrance of the assembly. Such was the man’s ideological consistence. His last rites were performed with utmost respect.
Pandit Madan Mohan Malvia, Pundit Moti Lal Nehru, Vithal Bai Patel and many other renowned figures were there at his funeral. His body was cremated by the Yamuna River.

Harchand Rai was never very fond of conspicuousness. After his death, a public gathering was organised in his memoriam at the Khaliq Dina Hall on February 28, 1928. According to Moti Ram Satram Das, it was decided in this gathering that a memorial in the name of the late Seth. For this, a committee, too, was set up.
Six years later, February 16, 1934 was the inauguration day of Harchand Rai’s statue which was erected in the Karachi Municipality compound. Sixteen thousand rupees were spent on this statue. It was all paid by the people of Karachi. A Mr Tom was the one who sculptured it.
The editor of the Karachi Municipality Members’ Journal, Manazir Siddiqui writes in his editorial:

The city of Karachi owes a lot to the late Harchand Rai Vishan Das. In remembrance of his services to the city, a statue of the man was installed in Karachi which was removed after the partition.

The ungratefulness did not end on the removal of the statue. A road in Karachi which was named after Harchand Rai sahib was later renamed after another head of the municipality. One cannot imagine what drove the authorities towards such an act.
If it was only to appreciate the services rendered by Siddique Wahab sahib (the name which replaced Harchand Rai’s name for the mentioned road), then another new road or street could have been named after him.
 The statue of Harchand Rai Vishandas in its original form [right] and how it is now [left]. –Photo courtesy of Khadim Hussain Soomro
The statue of Harchand Rai Vishandas in its original form [right] and how it is now [left]. –
I came to know that the removed statue of Harchand Rai sits somewhere in storage that comes under the municipality’s authority. I searched all such places but could not find the memorial statue. Khadim Hussain Soomro, the author of a book written on Harchand Rai sahib, told me that the statue can be found at the Mohatta Palace. I went there to see the statue for myself, it was a beheaded. Quite certainly, the work of some ‘iconoclast’ in all of his righteousness.

Father of Karachi

 Jamshed Mehta speaking at an event held in his honour by the KMC in 1936. — Public Domain Photo
'Ownership', as defined by Oxford English Dictionary is ‘the act, state or right of possessing something’. In Urdu, it translates into Milkiyyat, while in Sindhi the alternative is Maaliki.When someone, something or some place is considered abandoned or ownerless, the Sindhi people often say: Adaa! Hinjee maaliki keeran waaro keer kon’hay.
What Karachi is going through right now is quite an image of that Sindhi phrase. Although we hear a lot of people owning Karachi, rather claiming to be the only ones with a sense of ownership for it. However, the people who cared for this city without a breath’s break before the partition are left without any maaliki themselves these days.
The roads that were named after these great founding benefactors of this ever-expanding metropolis have been rechristened, while the statues erected in their honourable memory have either been damaged or taken away, or stored somewhere in dungeons like junk with no value. It is one of these founding fathers of the city whom we are to talk about today: Jamshed Nusserwanjee from the Parsi community is also remembered as the Father of Karachi.
The man’s full name was Jamshed Nusserwanjee Rustamjee Mehta. He was born in 1886 in Karachi and died on August 08, 1952.The story of his services to the people of Karachi begins from the year 1915.



Gul Hassan Kalmati writes in his book Sindh Jaa Laafaani Kirdaar (The Immortal Characters from Sindh) of a time in 1919, when influenza spread wildly in Karachi. It was Jamshed Nusserwanjee who worked tirelessly day and night for the well-being of the people of the city, thus becoming known to almost all the Kolaachi bay’s inhabitants. In 1922, he was elected president of the Karachi Municipality, an office which he occupied till October, 1932.
It's fair to say that his long tenure as president of the municipality was proof of his love for the people of Karachi. From what people have said about him, Nusserwanjee truly loved and cared for human beings, and even an animal in distress would not escape his eye.
Jamshed presiding over a KMC meeting. — Jamshed presiding over a KMC meeting. — Public Domain Photo
Renowned author Ajmal Kalaml wrote in his book Karachi Kee Kahani (The Story of Karachi) about Jamshed Nusserwanjee in the words of Pir Ali Muhammad Shah Rashidi:
“Once around 1930, I (Ali Muhammad Rashidi) was walking down the Bandar Road (presently the M. A. Jinnah Road). I saw Jamshed Mehta walking a donkey to a veterinary hospital, while his driver followed him in his motor. I could not resist following him to the hospital to see what was going to happen next. In the hospital’s corridor, I saw Jamshed observing closely while the vet fixed up the wounded donkey.
Jamshed would repeatedly tell the doctor to be cautious and not to cause the creature any pain. When the poor donkey’s wounds had been bandaged, Jamshed told the vet that he animal be kept under care until it recovers completely, and instructed the donkey’s owner not to drag the poor, wounded creature to work. To ensure this did not happen, he asked the donkey’s owner to collect whatever daily wages he earned off the donkey from him, until the donkey was fit for work again. In fact, Jamshed paid the man beforehand to affirm his words.”
That's how donkeys and other animals were cared for back in Jamshed’s days. Today, in the same city not a single passer-by would bother to take a long look even if a man lies in a pool of his own blood, let alone help the injured get to a hospital. Professor Inayat Ali Khan, a well-known poet, has written the couplet best fit for the present ignorance of Karachi’s people: “That no one stopped [even after] seeing the mishap / Was an incident bigger than the accident itself.”
Jamshed Mehta with the poet Rabindranath Tagore and others. —  Jamshed Mehta with the poet Rabindranath Tagore and others. — Public Domain Photo

Also read 'The Clifton of yore'

A book published by the Jamshed Memorial Committee says that in his prayers every day, Jamshed would ask the following:
“O lord! I pray to you every morning, every day that make use of me, lord! Make me selfless, O lord! Keep me transparent! O lord, I pray only this that make me your source.”
Founder of the separatist Sindhi movement 'Jeay Sindh Saaien', Ghulam Murtaza (G.M.) Syed writes in his book Janub Guzaaryam Jann Seen (Those Who I Spent My Lifetime with) that Jamshed Nusserwanjee participated in the movement of separating Sindh from the Bombay Residency. Although he understood that in a separate Sindh he would have to rely on Hindu voters for his political career, he did not worry about that.
Jamshed Mehta with Gandhi. —  Jamshed Mehta with Gandhi. — Public Domain Photo
After Sindh was separated from Bombay, Jamshed contested elections from the Dadu district in 1937 and won. He was elected member of the Sindh Assembly as an independent candidate, which he remained for a long time.
Since he was primarily elected by Hindu voters of the region, he was expected to side with the Hindu members of the Assembly whenever they favoured or opposed the government, at their will. A man of principles, Jamshed resigned from the Assembly instead of becoming part of such a lobby.
It was an important episode in the politics of Sindh. Many Muslim members of the Sindh Assembly would ignore the national interest in light of their personal interests. After the partition, when he saw that there was no place for a just and honest as well as non-Muslim political worker in national politics, he retired from his career.



Jamshed Nusserwanjee would mostly sweat over public health, especially maternity issues and the health of the mother and child.
He took the initiative himself and built a maternity home near Jehangir Park in Saddar, naming it after his mother, Gulbai. It was not the only maternity home that we should thank him for, but that list is for another day, another blog.
He never disliked politics but had a clear stance that violence in politics is unacceptable. In fact, his entire life is shaped by the belief that only politics can bring positive change in society. Deeply inspired by Mahatma Gandhi, Jamshed was of the view that no violent act can be a solution to any problem.
Jamshed Memorial Committee published a book on the man — 'Jamshed Nusserwanjee: A Memory in 1954'. The book describes one interesting incident. Before Partition, a countrywide strike was called against the British Raj in India. The strike had its effects on Karachi, too, where not a single shop would be seen open.
In order to render the move unsuccessful, local police raided a locality in the city and arrested a child. In a moment’s notice, throngs gathered to protest against this act of police brutality. The police threatened to open fire if the crowd did not disperse.
Right then, Jamshed appeared and put himself like a wall between the police and the protestors. He addressed the police and said if they wanted to open fire, the first bullet should pierce through his chest, but he would have the child freed in that very instance. Jamshed’s courage overcame the situation as the police backed off, letting the arrested child go. Seeing this, the mob, too, dispersed. That was our Jamshed there!
In the same book, Hatim Alvi writes that when Jamshed had taken over the Karachi Municipality, the city had just nine miles of proper roads. However, when he vacated the office, Karachi had 76 miles of shiny, smooth roads.
At the time of the partition, Karachi did not have any damaged roads, the article claims. Today, the picture speaks for itself. Hatim Alvi also tells us that the proper supply of clean drinking water to Karachi began during Jamshed's period in office.
Alvi goes on to relate that when the area surrounding the Artillery Ground was supplied with water, the law of the time was that all government buildings would pay seven per cent of the building’s total construction cost as water consumption tax. In those days, Chief Court (former Supreme Court, present Sindh High Court) had been newly constructed in the area. It was also being supplied with clean drinking water. Since the construction of the court had cost three million rupees, the seven per cent tax amounted to be a huge sum of money. The bureaucracy was not ready to pay such heavy taxes. When Jamshed came to know about it, he cut the water supply to the chief court.
The bureaucracy was speechless when they heard the news. An officer was immediately sent to Karachi from Bombay. It is said the matter was resolved after negotiations. I think back in those days there was no law for contempt of court, nor could a court take a suo moto notice of a matter. Good old days, I’d say.

Father of Karachi — II

Jamshed Nusserwanjee Mehta inaugurating the Gul Bai Maternity Home. — Public Domain Photo







Jamshed Nusserwanjee Mehta inaugurating the Gul Bai Maternity Home. — Public Domain Photo


Hatim Alvi writes in his article of Nusserwanjee's love for his mother. Perhaps, that's why he was so driven to improve the healths of mothers and children.
Jamshed sahib had a maternity home built near Jehangir Bagh in memory of his mother.
Hatim Alvi writes that Jamshed would always look out for rich lads who would further his cause of establishing such centres; people who would make a good amount of money that year. He would then coax them into helping him. It was no walk in the park. But the man had devised a special strategy for this, such that no man of wealth would ever refuse him upon being approached.

Also read: 'Harchand Rai Vishan Das: Karachi's beheaded benefactor'

Alvi narrates the following incident:
"I once mentioned of a wealthy Bohri businessman to him and how the angel of death seemed to be closing in on him. His relatives would be quick to claim his property after his death.
"Jamshed responded saying he would try. I told him it was going to be a tough race between him and the angel of death. A few days later, it turned out Jamshed had won. The result was a maternity home in the 'Eid Gah Maidaan' area by the name Seth Ismailjee Ameenjee Nathani Maternity Home."
I decided to visit both of these maternity homes.
Incidentally, my wife happens to be a nurse working in a public hospital, which is also a public maternity home. At the time I was hunting for Nusserwanjee's maternity home, I used to live with my family in the quarter allotted by the hospital to my wife (now we live in a flat in a separate area).
So I thought, why not begin the search at home like everything a good old husband should. I asked her, and in the politest manner of course, if she had heard anything about a maternity home by the name of Seth Ismailjee Ameenjee Nathani Maternity Home.
“In my 20 years of working as a nurse, I have never heard that name,” she replied.
But I caught a glimpse of my son Ali Hassan. He looked like he had something to say. Moments later, he spoke out: “I know about it.”
This was nothing ordinary for me. Ali Hassan is known among his friends and even the young and old of our neighbourhood as Ali Hassan aka Ma Kana. Ma Kana is Balouchi for ‘please do not’. Famous for his mischiefs, Ali Hassan is often found at either the hospital's rooftop or at places where a young lad like him is not supposed to be wandering.
So I asked my son — a student of sixth class — how he'd come to know about the maternity home. He shyly asked me to follow him. So I did.
Ali took me to the hospital’s rooftop, from where we climbed over to another rooftop as if following public enemies. There, he showed me a plaque that read in English: Ismailjee Ameenjee Nathani Maternity Home. Surprised twice within a few minutes, I looked at Ali. His shyness had been replaced by a victorious smile.
A name plate of Ismailjee Ameejee Nathani Maternity Home. A name plate of Ismailjee Ameejee Nathani Maternity Home. — Photo by author
 A name plate of Ismailjee Ameejee Nathani Maternity Home. — Photo by author
You will find the Eid Gah Maternity Home adjacent to the office of Union Council No. 5 of Saddar Town, if you ever happen to visit the place. I believe the side that has the plaque with the maternity home’s old and original name on it must have been the side of the main entrance. Encroachments could be one reason for why the gate has been sealed now.
Anyway, the place is known as the Eid Gah Maternity Home. Sadly, no one knows about the story of the angel of death losing a one-on-one with Jamshed sahib, nor does anyone know about Ismailjee Ameenjee Nathani.
The new na The new name of Ismailjee Ameejee Maternity Home - Eid Gah Maternity Home.  — Photo by author me of Ismailjee Ameejee Maternity Home - Eid Gah Maternity Home. —

I still had the second maternity home to visit, so off I went.
I already knew that Jamshed sahib’s mother was called Gul Bai. Thanks to Hatim Alvi, I also knew the maternity home would be located somewhere around Jehangir Bagh. This garden is now known as Jehangir Park. But soon as I arrived there, I found the place to be much less of a park than a barren home to heroin addicts.

Also read: 'The story of Ram Bagh'

I entered the park from the central gate and instantly saw a round structure that looked like a huge room. There were some people sitting inside, going through Urdu newspapers. One of them was seated inside a small cabin right in the middle. I approached him and introduced myself. He told me he was a municipal employee and was the librarian of the library we were inside.
I asked this man if he had any information regarding a Gul Bai Maternity Home. He said he didn't, and referred me to the area's union council office (located at the end of the park).
But when I got there, the folks at the union council office said there was no such place in their area. Disappointed, I took off.
But on my way home, as I was about to take the wrong way on a road seemingly leading to Bandar Road (something I'm not proud of), I looked around and noticed an old building. Now, old buildings are something I've always loved to visit. I stopped instantly, entered this place and voila! The Gul Bai Maternity Home! I had found it.
From the front entrance, the building seemed abandoned. A grill-gate with a huge padlock hanging off it kept me from going further in.
Entrance to the Gul Bai Maternity Home. — Photo by author
Slowly, I moved towards the rear part of the building where I found some life — an old couple sitting on a charpoy.
They told me they had been living in the building for 40 years now, but didn't know when the maternity home had been shut down. They did tell me that I may get some information from Rooney Baba, a Parsi who was the building’s guardian. Sadly, they did not have his contact information, except that his office was in Denso Hall.
Gul Bai Maternity Home. — Entrance to the Gul Bai Maternity Home.  — Photo by author
The new name of Ismailjee Ameejee Maternity Home - Eid Gah Maternity Home. —
It is a beautiful place, by the way.
Right after the entrance, you will see a water fountain. Then a glass engraving announces the name of the place. On the left, there is a memorial, while on both ends of the building you will find plaques commemorating the inauguration of the maternity home. On the stairs, wooden plaques tell you the names of the people who donated money for the establishment of this clinic.
Plaques with names of people who made the donations. — Photo by author
These tiny details are all I have. If you personally visit the place, you'll feel the real beauty of this building. The only thing I can say is that the architecture is some proof of a son’s love for his mother.
Photo by author
I did not feel like leaving the building. I felt heavy-hearted, as if Jamshed sahib was there himself, remarking proudly, “How did you like it, mate? I had built this place with so much effort and love, and now look at it!”
With heavy steps, I just stepped out when suddenly a rickshaw passed by. The couplet painted on its rear side seemed to fit my state of mind at that moment:
Humein to apnon nay loota, ghairon main kahaan dum tha
Meri kashtee wahan doobee, jahan paani kum tha
(Translation: We were robbed off by our very own, for strangers never had the strength / My lifeboat happened to sink ironically where the ebb was lowest.)
Another one of Jamshed Nusserwanjee's services to Karachiites was in the area of housing. He initiated cooperative housing in the city. The area known as Jamshed Quarters today was flat earth in 1922.

Also read: 'Of streets and names'

Karachi did not host too many wealthy families back then, and anyone who could afford it had built elegant houses in Clifton, Frere and Garden quarters. However, a large number of plots still lay vacant and waiting to be turned into houses.
For middle class families, it was impossible to have their own house constructed.. Jamshed decided that the cooperative housing society will be given land free of cost and will also be given loans for construction of residential units. Many people thought that the man was a communist. Not only did the well of landlords and businessmen object as well as resist the step, but even municipal counsellors – who themselves hailed from middle class – were against Jamshed sahib in order to please their rich bosses.
Perhaps, even in those days, Karachi had a strong municipality mafia. At any rate, Jamshed was successful in getting the scheme approved. A few years later, a number of cooperative housing societies began building nice homes for the middle class. The Karachi Municipality named one of them as 'Jamshed Quarters'.
One day, I went to call on a friend who lived in Jamshed Quarters and asked him, “Why is the place called Jamshed Quarters?” He replied, “Well, just like all the areas have a name, this one is called Jamshed Quarters. End of story.”
I don't know what to think every time I see Jamshed sahib not receiving the least amount of credit for all that he did for this urban jungle.

The truth behind Karachi's Freemasons


In the not so distant past of our beloved city of Karachi, there existed a Freemason Hall, where the fraternity would hold its sessions on a regular basis. It’s hard to believe, but the building is still there to be seen near Fawara Chowk (Fountain Square).
Fawara Chowk is located in Saddar on Abdullah Haroon Road (previously Victoria Road). On one end of the square is an old Protestant church, the Trinity Church, while on the other end is the Governor House. The square also leads to the State Life Building, one of the skyscrapers of Karachi, and the Jaffar Brothers’ building, an unusual structure that looks somewhat like a multi-storied boat.

The building


If you head over to the Arts Council from this square, you will also pass by the Institute of Foreign Affairs, the first building on your left. Right next to this institute is an old, colonial structure, a building that effuses an aura of another time, another era of the history of Kolachi.
A distinct eeriness surrounds this old structure. There's always a small number of cars parked by the entrance. During winters, an old, the weary gatekeeper can be seen sitting a few yards from the locked entrance, basking in the warm sunlight. The melancholic trees around it seem to be lamenting how no passer-by sits under their shade.
This is the building of the Freemason Hall — the Hope Lodge. Not many know about the Freemasons and the Hope Lodge, and when I tried to do some digging, whoever happened to know anything about them had an unfavourable disposition towards Freemasons.
Most Muslim researchers and authors think that the Freemasons were a fraternity funded and promoted by the Jewish [lobby]. This is, however, far from the truth. Interestingly, before and after partition, the Freemasons always had more than one Muslim member.
Some of the names on a plaque at the Hope Lodge might surprise us. One of the well-known Muslim names from the pre-partition Karachi is that of Jam Ayoub Aliani. The names of two other Muslims can also be seen here. One is M. M. R. Sherazi, while the other is M. G. Hassan.
Jam Ayoub was only a member of the organisation, while the other two had held office.
Among the Hindu Freemasons are W. F. Bhojwani and K. P. Advani, while the Parsi members include D. F. Setna.
Saaien G. M. Syed, founder of the Sindhi separatist movement, Jeay Sindh, writes for Mir Ayoub Khan, son of Jam Mir Khan Barrister in his book Janub Guzaryum Jann Seen:
He was a sincere friend, a jolly fellow and a man of the liberal school of thought. I had the pleasure of working with him in the municipality, the local board, the Anjuman-e-Taraqqi-e-Urdu, Young Men’s Muslim Association, Freemasonry, Sindh Madrassa Board and Sindh Mohammadan Association.
Jam Ayoub’s name is inscribed on the plaque at the Hope Lodge, but Saaien G. M. Syed’s name is nowhere to be found, despite Syed having admitted to have worked with Jam Ayoub in the Freemasons.
According to my historian friend Aqeel Abbas Jafri, even Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib was a member of the Freemason fraternity. Ajmal Kamal, a renowned scholar, seconds Jafri’s claim.

The history


In his book Karachi Taareekh Kay Aaaenay Main, Muhammad Usman Damohi writes about Jam Ayoub and the Freemasons:
With the permission of King George V, Jam Ayoub became the Vice Counsel to Iran in June 1894. He remained in this position until 1927. In those days, the Freemasons’ activities were in full swing. The fraternity would often hold cultural events and programmes in Karachi. Jam Ayoub was an honorary member of the organisation… In those days, the motives of the Freemasons were a secret...

The historical origin of the Freemasons is rather obscure and mysterious, which — combined with the somewhat secretive nature of their rituals — has led to much conjecture and conspiracy theories about their activities around the world. Their meetings involve old symbolic rituals that have been carried forward for hundreds of years. The fraternity operates from very loosely connected "grand lodges", and "lodges" which are centres of activity and meeting-places. Each independent grand lodge has its own jurisdiction. A symbol always found in these lodges is that of the 'compass' and the 'square', pointing literally or metaphorically to the tools of a mason (or stone-cutting).
But is it right to assume these were exclusively Freemason symbols?
To that question, my photojournalist friend Akhtar Soomro responded with a resounding “no!” He showed me a picture with an aerial view of the General Post Office building in Lahore. The picture showed a collection of Freemason symbols incorporated into the colonial architecture.
So the question is, could the Freemasons be so influential as to have their symbols engraved into the architecture of new, high-profile constructions?
To the best of my knowledge, however, apart from the Freemason Hall (Hope Lodge), there are no other buildings in Karachi which have any Freemason symbols incorporated into their architecture or design. If the Freemasons are working for the rights of the Jews, then other buildings should also have displayed these symbols. In addition, the symbols of Judaism and Freemasonry bear no resemblance to each other whatsoever.

India in Karachi

There are a number of old buildings in Pakistan, especially in Karachi, of colonial origins that were designed by European Christian and Jewish architects.
I do request the readers to inform me if they spot any such symbols anywhere in Karachi on buildings or locations.

The ban


What happened to the Freemason fraternity in Pakistan is another tragic tale altogether.

It is reported that a team led by a Magistrate seized the Freemason Hall on behalf of the Government of Sindh. The team also confiscated all documents and other material in the building. The report goes on to say:
The cornerstone of the first ‘lodge’, i.e. the Hope Lodge in Karachi was laid in 1843. The first Governor of Sindh Charles Napier was also made an honorary member of the organisation. The government acted on the people’s demands and information provided by a rebel group in the Freemason organisation. The common understanding is that the Freemasons are Jewish-inspired and anti-Islam.
A report on a website that provides some information about the ban on Freemasons in Pakistan says that on June 16, 1983, all illegal activities of Freemasons were banned under the Martial Law Regulation 56. However, Freemasons continued their activities in secret. Then on December 29, 1985, the ban was extended to any and all Freemason activities in the country.

Karachi's 'Yahoodi Masjid

In 1965, Government of Pakistan had banned military servicemen from becoming members of the Freemason fraternity, the Rotary Club or the Lions’ Club. In 1969, this ban was expanded to cover all public servants, generalising the ban as a restriction from becoming a member of any organisation or fraternity whose aims and objectives were not publicly known.
The question is, when was the Freemason fraternity banned in the country for the first time; 1972, 1973 or 1983?
I asked my lawyer friend Younus Shad to help me in finding the answer. He was able to acquire a copy of the Martial Law Regulation which ordered the ban on Freemasons in Pakistan.
It is titled 'MARTIAL LAW REGULATION BY CHIEF MARTIAL LAW ADMINISTRATOR (Gazette of Pakistan, Extraordinary, Part I, 17th June 1983) No 56':
  • Section (1) states that any law or judicial decision before this regulation stands null and void.
  • Section (2) states that an organization, commonly known as the Freemason [organization] is declared a banned outfit and stands disbanded.
  • Section (3) states that all properties owned by the outfit are handed over to respective provincial governments.
  • Section (4) states that no claim will be entertained in regards to the properties seized.
  • Section (5) states that the organisation will not be eligible of petitioning any court of law in the country.
  • Section (6) states that the provincial governments can ask the federal government for help in the matter.
  • Section (7) states that any obstruction in the implementation of the regulation can lead to a sentence of three years in prison with fine.
Four years ago, Mike Bruce, a senior manager from an international non-profit institution approached my friend Mazhar Laghari. He wanted to visit the Hope Lodge. Mazhar asked me to help with this. I was caught up with some other things and requested my friend Amar Guriro to help Mike.
That evening, the city of lights was drowned in darkness. Using the torch in his mobile phone, Amar took Mike to the hall and showed him around.
Mike was only able to see the Star of David and the plaque with the members’ names. He was stunned that Pakistan’s history did not have a single word about the fraternity.
After a few months, I met Mike and told him that there was a Jewish cemetery near the Mewa Shah Graveyard. I also informed him about the synagogue in the city and that at least a dozen buildings in Karachi had the Star of David in incorporated into their structures somewhere.
Mike Bruce dreams of a Pakistan where he could enjoy enough religious freedom to be able to visit all such buildings in broad daylight. He had visited the Freemason Hall as if he were spying on it. His organisation strictly advises him not to get out of his hotel after dark.
Researcher and novelist Dan Brown has mentioned how important buildings in the US, including the Congress Library in Washington D.C. and the White House have the Star of David evident in the architecture in more than one place. He even claims how the dollar note has such a symbol on it.
Dan Brown and other researchers claim that the founder and the first President of the United States of America, George Washington was a member of the Secret Brotherhood of the Freemason fraternity. Even Leonardo Da Vinci they claim, was a member of the brotherhood.
We will share some more information about the Freemason Hall in Karachi in the next episode.
(To be continued...)

The truth behind Karachi's Freemasons - II


Entrance to the Freemason Hall in Karachi. —Photo by Akhtar Balouch


Continued from previous article, 'The truth behind Karachi's Freemasons'

Popular novelist Dan Brown and some researchers claim that the founder and first President of the United States of America, George Washington, was a member of the Secret Brotherhood of the Freemason fraternity. According to them, even Leonardo Da Vinci, a well-known figure of the Renaissance, was a member of the brotherhood.
One important contributor to the history of art related to this fraternity is the sculptures of the great Gian Lorenzo Bernini.
Bernini made these sculptures for Rome and Vatican on special orders from the new pope, Pope Urban VIII. Although receiving patronage from the pope, he incorporated certain Judaist symbols into his sculptures. In fact, some of these works subtly mock the Papal seal. Bernini’s work can still be seen in Rome.
One of the Freemasons of our own and dear Karachi is Jeevan.
Jeevan had humble beginnings and interestingly took his first breaths within the walls of the Freemason Hall (Hope Lodge). 75 year-old Jeevan’s father was the first employee of the Freemason Hall. When his father passed away, Jeevan’s brother took over the job. He too died soon after. It was then Jeevan’s turn to serve the Freemason Hall.
The interior of the Freemason Hall, or the Hope Lodge. — Photo by Akhtar Balouch
At first, Jeevan was quite hesitant to speak to me. He did open up gradually, though. In his words, I could sense the mixed joy and sadness which these memories brought to him.

The real Father of Karachi

Here is the conversation we had:
Q. Please tell me about the Freemason Hall, Jeevan.
A. I’ve been through these interviews before. The lawyer has stopped me from saying anything. I’m told that enough has been said already.
Q. How old are you?
A. 74 years.
Q. Is this quarter your birthplace?
A. Yes.
Q. What was your father’s name?
A. They called him Prabhu. I reckon that’s his name.
Q. You’ve served 74 years here. Can you speak a little about the pre and post-partition days and what went on then?
A. Back then, it wasn't like this at all. There was no traffic, just more horse wagons. What else do you want to know? The interior of the Freemason Hall, or the Hope Lodge. — Photo by Akhtar Balouch

Members and activities


Q. I want to know what used to happen here. Were there any parties?
A. There were no parties here. These rooms you can see, these were their offices. One of them was their drawing room. Another was their storeroom, while another was a kitchen. Lastly, one room was for the ladies.
Folks would come in the evening and dine in. There wasn’t much more to it. Our own ones (the locals) were always in a small number. Mostly, it would be foreigners. They all went away gradually. Only six or seven remained. It was [the year] 1973. Actually, no one came to stay here permanently. Each one used to work for some big company.
There was an assigned secretary, treasurer and so on. These people would visit regularly and run it [the organisation].
Q. The plaque has the names of Jam Ayoub and Shirazi sahib. Did these people come here often?
A. They must have been visitors from my father’s time here. This organisation always had someone at the helm. After my father passed away, the place was passed down to me and things kept going on.
The plaque with the names. — Photo by Akhtar Balouch
I was born here. I have four sons and three daughters and all of them were born here. The conservationists did some rehabilitation of the building. The building is from 1842. Back in those days, its office-holders would care for its cleanliness a lot. That’s why the building is still standing, you know. 1842 was a long time ago. Those people really took care of this building. They wouldn’t take a moment in ordering for a fix whenever anything was broken. And now, look at this place!
Q. These trees here, are these the same old trees?
A. (Pointing in the direction of a tree) That one over there is the oldest. That bush straight ahead, with the berries and all, is over a hundred years old. You know what, one of my uncles is an engineer and lives in India. I went to see him in 1984 and he asked about the berries, the old man. He said he remembered the bush with the berries from 1974. He must have had some berries, that’s why he remembered. When I met him I told him it's still here!
Q. How much did the Freemasons pay you?
A. My pay was in the thousands. There were benefits as well, like medical insurance for me and my family.
Q. Some of the visitors of the hall that you remember?
A. There were a lot of them back in the day. But only a few remained afterwards. One of them was the oldest. He used to work in some big company. He lived on the Zeb-un-Nissa Street. He told the foreigners about me. Back then, we never had any problems. You know why? Because we were the authority. The area all around was just plain ground all the way till Fawara Chowk.
Gandhi’s exile
Q. Did people come here and pray?
A. Nope. They would come in the evening and then be gone after a while. They would come around half-past-six in the evening. All of them would dine here, though.
Q. Was there a bar? Did they drink?
A. Yeah, they had their stuff. By eight or nine in the evening, they’d all be gone after having enjoyed a nice meal.
Q. Did they hold any events here?
A. There would be an occasional ladies’ night. In the beginning, they even had a school here.
Q. What happened in the ladies’ night?
A. Well, what do you think happened? There were women. They would eat and talk and so on.
Q. Could you go inside back then?
A. Yes, I went inside. But I didn’t go upstairs. We people did not have any business up there. They would come and go themselves. There was a regular meeting about the expenses.
Q. They call this place the haunted house or the magic house. Why?
A. Nothing like that. Some old folks call it the house of idols. All my friends and family folk know me as the idol house guy. If you tell them you want to see Jeevan, they’d not know who were you talking about. But you tell those folks you’ve come to see Jeevan the idol house guy, they’d bring you to my doorstep. Everybody knows me by that name, no matter what town or city they are in.

After the ban


Q. After the Freemasons were prohibited, did anyone get in touch with you?
A. Yes. The ban came on July 19, 1972. After that, I was jobless. Then a foreigner from the Freemasons came to see me. He was once the secretary here. The poor man met with me sometime between 1973 and 1974. He told me they had no money since all their accounts and assets had been frozen. He gave me a letter that said something about the labour law. Nothing happened after that. I still have the letter.
Q. Does someone [from the fraternity] still come see you?
A. Yes. Some people came from Delhi some time ago. It was a woman. She had a child with her. Don’t know how they came to know that I was a former employee. This was two, three years ago. People keep coming here occasionally.
Q. Were these visitors [from Delhi] Freemasons?
A. No. They had just come [to visit]. There has been a shooting (filming) here, too. Activities like that keep happening.
This road, you know, it was called the R. A. Line, meaning the Royal Air Force Line. They used to call it the Arya Line often.
Q. Was there anything else here apart from the Freemason Hall?
A. There was the YMCA and it was often thronged by people. Not much else.
Proposal to convert Dilip Kumar’s house into national heritage termed ‘unfeasible’
Q. Did you face any problems after the ban on the Freemason fraternity?
A. The wildlife people sent me a notice of eviction in 1993. I wrote letters to the then Commissioner sahib, and a minister called Molana Kausar Niazia. I think that was the name. I told them everything.
Q. Where are you from in India?
A. No, I am from around here. My father was from Surat. My folks had come here in 1904. My mother used to work in the Tata mill there. Then they moved here. Amma would talk sometimes about how tough the move was from them. They came to Karachi and stayed with a relative they happened to have here in Sindh Club. They lived there for some time. Someone told them there was work at the Freemason Hall. Bapu (dad) knew Gujrati but the foreigners only knew English, of course.
I often wonder how Bapu managed to work with them folks. They didn’t know Gujrati or Urdu. They only knew English. They were all goray (white/foreigners). Bapu worked for these people for 45 years. I can’t imagine how he made it through even one day. He got paralysis later. But they [the employers] would have him treated here, even had a house for us.
Then my older brother replaced Bapu. Soon after my marriage, he passed away, too. Then they told me to start working. I used to work as a Clearing and Forwarding agent, but had to quit my job and work here — not because of the money, but because of the house.

Jeevan running from 'Wildlife'


This was Jeevan’s story. Despite all this, even now people are still trying to have Jeevan vacate his residence. The matter is currently in court. The lawyers’ expenses stemming from this legal dispute are a huge burden on Jeevan.
Jeevan also mentioned that people from abroad come visit the place from time to time, but he does not suspect that they are Freemasons. I cannot understand what foreign visitors or tourists would want to do with an old building. Most of Karachi does not know what this building was, so how would some foreigners know what it is is and where to find it? I briefly discussed one of these said foreigners, Mike Bruce, in the previous blog.
The new name of the Hope Lodge will be the Wildlife Museum. It is bewildering to me how easily history is changed with a few names. Gandhi Garden becomes the Zoological Garden, the Freemason Hall becomes the Wildlife Museum. But if Ram Bagh can become Aram Bagh, then I think they can even change Akhtar Balouch to something to their liking. I wonder how long Jeevan will be able to save his home in the Hope Lodge.

Street cricket in Pakistan: A personal history

The growth of Pakistan’s women’s cricket team inspired these girls to get their own game going on a street in Karachi.
 Bats designed specifically for ‘tape-tennis cricket’ began to appear from the late 1980s onwards. Almost You’ve come a long way, baby: A night-cricket game in Karachi (2014). Night games have become norm on the streets of the city ever since the late 1980s.e  Video grab of one of the first night-cricket matches (in Australia) that were shown on PTV in 1979. These inspired the beginnings of night games in the realm of Pakistan’s street cricket.very major cricketing star from Pakistan after the 1970s seems to have begun playing cricket on the streets. -Photo by AFP
Just as most South American footballers usually grow-up playing the game on beaches and cramped thoroughfares, Pakistani kids get their first taste of competitive cricket on the streets.
‘Street cricket’ is an almost entirely South Asian phenomenon, popular in countries like Pakistan, India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and now even Afghanistan and/or in countries lacking adequate grounds and playing fields, forcing kids to use roads and streets to play their cricket on.
But if we further narrow down the frequency and popularity of this phenomenon, Pakistan should top the list of countries were street cricket is a regular event. Almost every major cricketing star from the 1970s onwards who has represented and risen in this cricket-loving nation began his cricket on the streets before moving on to play the game at proper cricket grounds.
But is street cricket a recent phenomenon or was it always part of Pakistan’s cricketing culture?

1970s — The early years

  Boys playing cricket on an empty plot in Lahore in 1973.
 A photograph that appeared in the 1970 edition of America’s LIFE magazine of kids playing cricket on the streets of Kolkata (India). LIFE described it as ‘Road Cricket.’ As a kid in the 1970s I remember playing the game on the road just outside my house (with a tennis ball). Even in the 1980s when I was representing my college side in Karachi’s intercollegiate tournaments at proper cricket grounds, many of us were still taking part in tournaments played on roads and streets.
According to former Pakistan swing bowler, Sikandar Bakht (who played for the Pakistan cricket team from 1977 till 1988), street cricket originated in Karachi in the early 1970s.
In his autobiography, Javed Miandad, perhaps the greatest batsman produced by Pakistan, mentions that he first started to play cricket as a kid on the streets of Karachi. Javed made his Test debut in 1976 at the age of 18 but was already playing first-class cricket in 1973. This means, street cricket was being played in Karachi even before the 1970s.
A photograph that appeared in the 1970 edition of America’s LIFE magazine of kids playing cricket on the streets of Kolkata (India). LIFE described it as ‘Road Cricket.’
A photograph that appeared in the 1970 edition of America’s LIFE magazine of kids playing cricket on the streets of Kolkata (India). LIFE described it as ‘Road Cricket.’
Dawar Farooq, a former club cricketer and coach who went on to train various first-class sides in the 1980s and 1990s, suggests that when he was a kid (in the early 1960s), people used to frown upon children who played cricket, or hockey or football on the streets:
"Kids from ‘decent’ families were not expected to play on the streets in those days," he said.
But he hastily added: "Most schools at the time had huge fields where all kinds of sports were played. We never really had to go out on the streets to play cricket. We either played at our school (with a proper cricket ball), or played in our garage or even on the roofs of our houses!"
Trending Pakistan's street cricket
Ironically, Dawar, who is 67 years old today, also claims to be one of the first people in Karachi to help turn street cricket into a more competitive phenomenon:
"School and college cricket circuit was very strong till the 1970s. But later in the decade as cricket began to become more popular than hockey in Pakistan, I noticed that more and more kids starting to play the game on the streets."
Dawar says he used to admonish kids he found playing on the streets: "I told them they could never become proper cricketers if they kept playing with a tennis ball. But whereas Lahore used to have a lot of parks where kids could play with a proper cricket ball, Karachi just had the National Stadium (where only first-class and international matches were allowed), and the two cricket stadiums at the Bakhtiari Youth Centre (in Karachi’s Nazimabad area), where most of the city’s club games were played."
Boys playing cricket on an empty plot in Lahore in 1973.
I agree, because I played most of the games for my college and then club at the Bakhtiari Youth Centre in the early and mid-1980s. But club games were also held at the cricket ground at Karachi’s Gymkhana Club and the stadium at KPI (Karachi Parsi Institute).
According to Dawar, it was from 1978 onwards that street cricket in Karachi became a more ordered affair. He began to notice a more serious streak of competitiveness creeping in and he began to organize tournaments in the area where he lived at the time (Akhtar Colony).
"We would create six to seven 5-member squads made-up of teenagers and kids of the area and play 10-over-a-side games at weekends and have trophies made at a shop in Saddar. Soon, after realizing that the same was happening in adjourning areas, we expanded the parameters of the tournaments and teams from other areas also began to take part in joint tournaments. Soon large crowds were gathering to watch the games, completely blocking the roads," he laughed.
Today it is quite common to see everyone from young men to kids playing street cricket in the evenings, using a series of hastily lined up fluorescent bulbs and tube lights rented from nearby electric shops.
I remember the first such night game that I played was way back in 1979 on the wide, open-air parking lot of what used to be known as the ‘Old Clifton’ area. I was 12 at the time and young Pakistani cricket fans had been fascinated by the whole concept of ‘night cricket’ first introduced by Australian media tycoon, Kerry Packer, in 1977 (in Australia).
Pakistanis had their first glimpse of night cricket in early 1979 when the state-owned PTV began showing highlights of night matches played in Australia between international cricket stars signed-up by Packer.
We saw stars like Imran Khan, Ian Chappelle, Dennis Lillee, Michael Holding, Vivian Richards, Barry Richards and many more playing under powerful lights with a white ball, black sightscreens and in coloured clothing. It was a fascinating sight.
We too had a street cricket side ‘Bath Island Cricket Stars’ at the time. It was made up of middle-class kids of the (then serene and quiet) Bath Island area in Southern Karachi, and of kids from ‘Rati Lines’ — a Pakhtun-dominated low-income and working-class area just behind Bath Island.
Video grab of one of the first night-cricket matches (in Australia) that were shown on PTV in 1979. These inspired the beginnings of night games in the realm of Pakistan’s street cricket.
Within weeks after PTV showed the highlights, we were invited to participate in what was perhaps Karachi’s first ever night-cricket tournament. I do not remember who arranged it, but it was held on the Old Clifton parking lot in October 1979.
Some eleven teams (all from Clifton) participated and the parking lot was illuminated with fluorescent ‘hanger lights’ and tube lights dangling from wires some ten feet above the ground.
Though the white tennis balls used in the game would often get muddy and brownish and hard to sight and some lofted shots would continue to hit and knock out the lights, the matches became a spectacle. Soon, dozens of men, women and children who used to often go to Old Clifton area for a walk or a plate or two of chaat or gol gappas, began to gather to watch the game.
To us it was Pakistan’s first ever game of night-cricket but some friends who resided in areas like Nazimabad claim that night games were first held in their area at about the same time (1979).

1980s — The formative years


By the early 1980s, street cricket had become extremely popular across Karachi and it also became highly competitive when money got involved. Tournaments now offered ‘winners money’ (instead of just trophies). Shahzad Ghauri who played for (the now defunct) PIA Colts in the mid-1980s, says that street cricket teams were playing for prizes that included cash, Vodka/Whiskey bottles and cartons of cigarettes, as early as 1980.

You’ve come a long way, baby: A night-cricket game in Karachi (2014). Night games have become norm on the streets of the city ever since the late 1980s.
"I used to live in the commercial part of the Soldier Bazaar area," he said. "I remember our team participating in various street cricket tournaments in Nazimabad, Lalukhet (now Liaquatabad), Azizabad and Saddar, where the prizes (for winners) included not only cash, but also bottles of Vodka and Lions Whiskey and cartons of Gold Leaf and Red & White cigarettes!"
He’s right. Though I was regularly playing for my college side in the early and mid-1980s, I was also a member of a street cricket team that was made up of young men from the Kehkashan area (in Clifton), Bath Island, Defence Housing Authority (DHA) and some guys residing at the Hussain Da Silva Apartments situated in ‘New Clifton’ area adjacent to Karachi’s famous shrine of Sufi saint, Abdullah Shah Ghazi near the Clifton beach.
We usually played among ourselves in the huge compound of the Hussain Da Silva apartments. They were built in 1960s but were torn down in 1993. They stood exactly where Pakistani business tycoon, Malik Riaz, is now building a multi-storey building.
We would often take part in tournaments and I remember by 1984 the tournaments were offering cash to the winners.
This is how it worked: Competing teams were asked to pay a certain amount of money to participate in the tournament. The cash collected from all the participating teams was eventually handed over as prize money to the side that would go on to win the finals.
Cash prizes ranged from Rs 1500 to Rs 3000. But I also remember playing at least three tournaments (in 1985) in the Gizri area where the prize was Rs 1000 cash, a bottle of Murree's Vodka and a carton of Gold Leaf cigarettes! We won two such prizes and had a ball of a time.
As the stakes grew so did the status of street cricket and the level of competitiveness in it. This triggered brand new innovations suited entirely to the technical dynamics of this genre of the game.
For example, though the tennis ball would swing a lot in the air, it would hardly do anything off the wicket (rather off the street/road). One also struggled to generate any worthy pace with it, unless one was playing in a compound or a street surrounded by houses or buildings blocking the breeze that would slow down the light weight tennis ball.

The mysterious 'finger ball'


So the bowlers would regularly go for fours and sixes until one fine day someone in either Karachi or Lahore in the early 1980s came up with ‘finger ball.’
‘Finger bowling’ was when the bowler would bowl from a short run-up, swing the ball one way but suddenly break it off the wicket the other way, totally bamboozling the batsmen in the process. In Karachi, Nazimabad began to churn out the best ‘finger bowlers’ and the teams with a finger or two began to dominate.
Our team could never get the hang of it and even when we finally discovered the mysterious ways the fingers guys were gripping the tennis ball, none of our bowlers could bowl it the way it was supposed to.
The mysterious ‘finger ball’.
The finger guys became all the rage. I remember our captain (and a great friend of mine), Aamir Sial (who unfortunately died young), began to play little mind games with our opponents.
One of our quick bowlers was a hefty guy called Hafeez. Just before our games during the rise of the ‘fingers,’ Aamir used to send a few street kids to members of the opposition and asked them to say things like: "Ustaad, suna hai, yeh Hafeez iss ilakay ka best finger hai (Boss, we have heard that this guy Hafeez is the best finger bowler of the area)."
He would actually succeed in psyching out the opponents. I’m not sure how much this helped our cause but it was great fun. Whenever Hafeez would be asked to bowl and he would go to the top of his bowling mark, the opposition would sit up and watch ‘Clifton’s best finger.’
He would bowl the whole over with his straight forward quick stuff that the batsmen would normally smash, but believing that Hafeez was holding back his deadly finger ball (so he could slip it in as a surprise delivery), the batsmen would treat him with respect.
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So far so good. But when no such surprises would be delivered at all during Hafeez’s second over, the batsmen would usually understand the ploy and suddenly Mr Deadly Finger used to be dispatched out of the ground for massive sixes and searing fours!
Hafeez used to hate it. Not the beating that his bowling eventually got but the catcalls that would start (from the opposition camps) every time it became apparent that Hafeez was actually all toe and no finger.

The advent of the taped tennis ball


But the reign of the fingers was short-lived. They were suddenly knocked out of business when some kid from somewhere in Pakistan (or India) discovered how to get a tennis ball to generate good bounce and pace — by tightly wrapping an electric tape around it (‘tape tennis’).
And then came the ‘tape-tennis ball.’
There are many accounts and theories about when ‘tape tennis’ first became popular. My personal experience suggests that taped balls first began emerging in 1985. At least that is when I faced one for the first time.
This is how Shahzad Gahuri sees it:
"Kids had tried all kinds of things to get the tennis ball to move quicker in the air and off the wicket. Back in 1980 I saw some kids constantly dipping it in buckets of water to make it skid, or wetting the batting area, but the ball would soon bloat and actually get even slower!"
In the late 1970s, some sports goods manufacturers had introduced a ‘rubber cork ball.’ It was made with rubber and had a wooden cork inside. It did bounce more and was fast, but it used to split open after being hit a few times to the boundary.
There was another way. Sometimes we would burn the upper ‘hairs’ of the tennis ball with a lighter. This would make the ball bounce more and zip faster in the air and off the wicket, but it used to get too soft after just a few overs.
When taped balls began to take over in the mid-1980s, their arrival changed some of the dynamics of street cricket as well.
For starters the finger men just could not bowl the taped balls the way they used to with the naked tennis ball. On the other hand, quicker bowlers who had suffered the most with the un-taped tennis balls finally came into their own. The quickies in our side became stars. No more catcalls.
Hitting the ball further also became easier. One of our hardest hitting batsmen was the burly Asif Parvez. He had to put in a lot of effort to swing at the tennis ball. But when taped balls came into the game, he began to hit some of the biggest sixes I have ever seen in the game of street-cricket.
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Taped balls also quickened the game – and tempers. I noticed that though it was common for matches involving cash prizes to end up in brawls between teams, the fights became more common after the arrival of these new balls. I don’t know why; maybe it was just about street cricket imitating the culture of violence and intolerance that had begun to grow in the country from the mid-1980s?
I got hit twice with a bat, once in the jaw and once in the neck, during a ‘disputed game.’
By the mid and late 1980s, street cricket had become so popular that many games also began attracting first-class cricketers. Pakistan’s fast bowling legend, Wasim Akram, was bowling for his local side with a taped ball on the streets of Lahore just two years before he made his Test debut in New Zealand in 1985.
Established players like Shoaib Mohammad and Asif Mujtaba who were already part of the Pakistan Test squad in the 1980s were regularly turning up to play taped-tennis games during Karachi’s famous all-night ‘Ramazan tournaments.’
In a 1983 tournament in the vast Orangi area which our team participated in, one of the teams had former Pakistan wicket-keeper-batsman, Taslim Arif, playing for it. In another ‘tape-tennis tournament’ that we played on the cement pitch of the Bakhtiari Youth Centre, I went in as an opener in our second game only to find Pakistan’s pace man, Jalaluddin, (who had played in Tests in 1982 and 1983), running in to bowl.
His first ball was a quick bouncer that I top-edged for a four. I heard a cheer go up in the stands. Thinking that the small crowd had actually cheered my streaky shot, I soon realized Pakistan’s wicket-keeper, Salim Yusuf (who made his Test debut in 1982), had arrived with friends to watch the tournament.
From here street cricket could only grow, despite the fact that from the mid-1990s, young people had more opportunities to play cricket in the grounds owned by private cricket academies run by former cricketers.
Bats designed specifically for ‘tape-tennis cricket’ began to appear from the late 1980s onwards.
I asked Dawar did he still think street cricket was a bad thing?
"Well, Pakistan has had a lot of natural talent," he said. "But my theory is that this talent should be nourished in schools and in proper cricket academies. But what I like about street cricket now is that kids get their first taste of competitive cricket playing on the streets. I don’t mind it anymore," he smiled.
While I was interviewing Pakistan’s cricket captain and currently the team’s most dependable batsman, Misbah-ul-Haq, in Dubai early this year, he told me that his first competitive tournament involved a taped ball, two lightweight bats, a couple of tube lights and a cash prize.
I told Dawar this and another incident which is perhaps the most exciting episode in my glorious career as a failed ‘proper cricketer’ but a pretty decent street cricketer. In 1983 our team travelled to Karachi’s Garden West area to play a few games against the local side. Our opponents had a very quick left-arm bowler who was generating pace even with a normal tennis ball. We were all very impressed by him. Three years later we saw the same bowler making his Test debut. His name was Saleem Jaffar.
The growth of Pakistan’s women’s cricket team inspired these girls to get their own game going on a street in Karachi.