Of funeral parlours and Pakistani handicrafts

I visited a traditional handicraft shop in Karachi, Pakistan a few days ago. It was a typical upmarket "ethnic' handicraft shop one may find in many cities around the world. However, there was a rhythmic clanging noise coming from downstairs - the shop had a basement - which intrigued me. The sounds were like a lullaby made by some sort of wooden instrument.

I went downstairs to investigate and see for myself.

Video by Imran Ahmed (author). All Rights Reserved.

Adjacent to the staircase was a large wooden hand loom - at least that is what I think it was - on which a man was weaving cloth. The man was dressed in a dark tee shirt and a shalwar - the baggy pants traditionally worn by many Pakistanis.

His hair stood out. Well, there wasn't that much of it really. What little was left was dyed orange using henna. 

Henna is often used as a hair dye in Islamic countries, especially by religiously conservative men, as it is a natural hair dye. Moreover, henna hair dye is presumed not to be vain (vanity being a sin) in contrast with chemical hair dye.

The room was full of hanging shawls, including traditional Sindhi ajrak shawls, which had been block printed by hand. As I looked around, I realized that these handicrafts are quietly disappearing from Pakistan. Suddenly, the room felt more like a funeral parlour than a workspace.

Within a few decades we may only see such items and traditional crafts people in museums or similar heritage sites.

There are many advantages to living in a global village but the disappearance of unique customs and practices only to be replaced by a global 'jeans and tee shirt' culture is a genuine threat to the world.

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I am a Singapore based Tour Guide with a special interest in arts and history. I have lived and worked in several countries during my career as an international banker. I enjoy traveling, especially by train, as a way to feed y curiosity about the world and nurture my interest in photography. I am available on twitter (@grandmoofti); Instagram(@imranahmedsg) and can be contacted at imran.ahmed.sg@gmail.com.

Searching for Pakistan's Jewish heritage: Karachi's Jewish Cemetery

At Pakistan's Independence in 1947, the country's Jewish community numbered between 1,000 – 2,500, with most residing in the port city of Karachi. Based on official data, by 2019 the number had reduced to 809. Some observers suggest the actual number of Jews in Pakistan may be closer to 200 – 300 persons.

A Jewish wedding Mehndi ceremony in Karachi, 1959.
(Wikipedia: public domain)

The reduction in Pakistan's Jewish community is attributable to two main factors.

Firstly, the creation of Israel in 1948 resulted in the first wave of migration out of the country. Secondly, as a Muslim majority state, Pakistan was not immune to increasing anti-Israeli sentiment, especially witin the Islamic world, as a result of the intensification of the Palestine - Israeli conflict. This resulted in a second wave of overseas migration by Pakistani Jews after the 1967 Arab - Israeli war.

Nonetheless, until the 1970s, Jews were a small but visible community in Karachi. It is not unusual to come across older Karachites who had Jewish school friends or classmates in those days. Indeed, Karachi's Jewish Synagogue or Yehudi Masjid (Jewish Mosque) survived until the late 1980s. In 1988, the valuable piece of land was finally expropriated for commercial uses. (Apparently, a synagogue - albeit abandoned - still stands in Rawalpindi though I have not seen it personally.)

Among the most visible vestiges of Karachi's Jewish community is the Bani Israel Jewish Cemetery. The Jewish cemetery is part of the larger Mewa Shah Qabaristan (cemetery), an interfaith cemetery which also contains a Christian burial ground. The Mewa Shah Cemetery remains in regular use, though the Jewish Cemetery seems to get few visitors.

Photo by author (© All rights reserved)

I visited the Jewish Cemetery during my recent travels to Pakistan. Tombs and headstones of many members of Karachi's Jewish community still stand proud, even if decayed. To be sure, the graveyard has seen better days as it appears there has not been any maintenance for several decades.

In the media, one reads reports about efforts by Pakistani Jewish activist Fishel BenKhald to restore the Bani Israel Cemetery. Indeed, families living within the cemetery compound (descendants of the original caretakers of the cemetery presumably) speak of an individual (BenKhald?) who has visited several times and spoken of rehabilitating the cemetery.

Photo by author (© All rights reserved)

Notwithstanding BenKhald's endeavors, Pakistanis in general and Karachites in particular, have an obligation to preserve the city's multireligious heritage. Karachi's development has seen many prominent citizens of varying religious backgrounds, e.g. Nadir Edulji Dinshaw the renowned Parsi philanthropist, make sigifnicant contributions. Karachi must honor its diverse historic legacy. Hopefully, the Bani Israel Jewish Cemetery will be restored – with or without the government's assistance - to its former glory and members of Pakistan's Jewish diaspora will be able to freely visit the graves of their ancestors.

I am a Singapore based Tour Guide with a special interest in arts and history. I have lived and worked in several countries during my career as an international banker. I enjoy traveling, especially by train, as a way to feed y curiosity about the world and nurture my interest in photography. I am available on twitter (@grandmoofti); Instagram(@imranahmedsg) and can be contacted at imran.ahmed.sg@gmail.com.

Karachi: Pakistan’s orphan without a guardian

On a trip to Karachi during the summer monsoon season 2019 the Federal Government made loud promises about cleaning up Karachi (and its drains) within one week. To add substance to the claims the Frontier Works Organization (FWO) and the Pakistan Rangers, both branches of the powerful military establishment, were handed the task. The Federal Minister for Ports and Shipping was appointed to handle the task and, as with the PML-Ns ‘law and order’ clean up initiated in 2013 – the Federal Government was prepared to go it alone if the efforts were not supported by the provincial and civic authorities.

Yet another public fund (remember the Dam Fund?) was created to solicit public donations to help pay for Karachi’s cleaning. One supposes charitable funds are required for this essential civic service because not enough taxes are collected by the authorities in Karachi? Not.

The Karachi Municipal Corporation (KMC) building. The KMC is one of the several governmental agencies responsible for Karachi's current state of civic neglect. (Photo: Wikipedia)

One year later – monsoon season 2020 - Karachites are reminded they live in Pakistan's largest orphan city. City roads are streams inundated with various blends of sewage and rain water – clean drinking water is an unrealistic dream not worth mentioning.

In other words, no substantial improvements have been made during the last twelve months. Additionally, there has been no accountability at any level neither for the civic lapses nor for the millions collected in donations by the 2019 Clean Karachi campaign.

As if on cue, accusations of blame regarding inaction and lack of preparedness are being hurled. These accusations are closely followed by tall claims about immediate action including by the Prime Minister himself, i.e. political grand standing.  

While the city (MQM), provincial (PPP) and federal (PTI) governments' fight for supremacy over the goose that lays golden (revenue) eggs, ordinary Karachites continue to suffer. Karachites don't care which political party, e.g. ANP, MQM, PML-N, PPP or PTI, fixes their city. People simply want the political leadership to stop bickering and take action.

Pakistan’s leadership must ask itself if Pakistan can progress while its economic heart and largest city is mired in civic despair.

A listless Karachi places a glass ceiling on Pakistan’s development while a vibrant Karachi acts as a catalyst for national growth.

Conclusion: Karachites wait patiently for monsoon 2021 when, in all likelihood, they will again wake to urban flooding. The flooding will automatically be followed initially by finger pointing and subsequently by dramatic promises from politicians (and ‘non-political’ military men) of renewed efforts to clean Karachi. Ironically, while Karachi waits for monsoon 2021 the city will return to its usual water shortages and the water mafia.  

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Imran is a Singapore based Tour Guide with a special interest in arts and history. Imran has lived and worked in several countries during his past career as an international banker. He enjoys traveling, especially by train, as a way to feed his curiosity about the world and nurture his interest in photography. He is available on Instagram (@imranahmedsg); twitter (@grandmoofti) and can be contacted at imran.ahmed.sg@gmail.com.

What am I doing in Tando Allahyar? That's in rural Sindh (Pakistan) in case you didn't know!

Almost one million people live in Tando Allahyar district located in Pakistan's Sindh province. One million is not a small number but the population is spread over many villages and towns across an expanse of almost 1,500 square kilometers. Yes, the district is about twice the size of Singapore and has less than twenty percent of the island republic's population.

Take Rashidabad, my 'hometown' since September. Rashidabad is less than 35 hectares in size – one third the size of Singapore's Gardens by the Bay. By my guesstimation Rashidabad has a resident population of maybe 2,000. However, the town's daytime population probably swells to at least twice its resident population due to visiting students, patients, employees, etc.

For most Singaporeans, the entire country of Pakistan is considered off limits, so what is a Singaporean-Karachite doing in 'ulu' Rashidabad?

Well, yes, I am a Pakistani by birth so no part of Pakistan is alien to me … technically. The reality is more complicated.

Pakistan is an interlinked mosaic of different cultures and linguistic regions. As a Karachite, my DNA is quite different even from urbanite compatriots from Lahore, Peshawar, Hyderabad or Islamabad. Often we speak a different language. Culture, including dress, gender roles, food and religious traditions vary widely.

A Karachite from the twenty million strong City of Lights doesn't see the world like a Sindhi speaking farmer from Quba village, Tando Allahyar district. The Quba resident grew up hearing tales of Watayo Faqir and his beautiful poetry. She is entirely indifferent to Shakespeare's (Sheikh who?) plays and sonnets taught to many Karachites in school.

Karachi, after all, is Pakistan's answer to New York city (no kidding). On the contrary, Tando Allahyar is primarily an agricultural area producing some of the country's finest mangoes. Though it is adjacent to one of Pakistan's oldest and finest agricutural universities.

But I digress. What am I doing in Rashidabad?

I am here to experience Pakistan beyond cities and locales familiar to me. I am here to live life to the fullest; an acknowledgement that leading a full life often requires escaping the hustle and bustle of cities like our own Singapore. It means no riding subway trains, no CNBC financial news or shopping malls. Instead one must stop and smell the roses and enjoy the world's simpler pleasures.

But mostly, I am in Rashidabad to interact with kids and teach them English in the process. I do that at the Sargodhian Spirit Trust Public School (SST), Rashidabad; a boys boarding school established in 2005.

Selfie time with SST students!

As for my time with SST students? I will spare you tales about teaching the next generation of leaders, etc. Instead, let's just say I will try to stop myself from tearing up when I leave Rashidabad next month! It's hard not to get attached to boys with boundless enthusiasm and energy – no matter how disruptive they may be inside the classroom!

In summary, Rashidabad is much more than a dot on the map. Rashidabad is about teaching and learning. Learning is the reason I am in Tando Allahyar. Who knew teaching is simply another word for learning?

Imran is an adventurer, blogger, consultant, guide, photographer, speaker, traveler and a banker in his previous life. At the time of writing, Imran is living in Rashidabad until December 2017 while a volunteer at the SST Public School. He is available on twitter (@grandmoofti); Instagram (@imranahmedsg) and can be contacted at imran.ahmed.sg@gmail.com.

Karachi as related through short stories

Like any large urban metropolitan area Karachi has a little of everything: wealth, diversity, excitement, danger, humanity, crime and a lot more. Nonetheless, Karachi has no comparison with other cities in Pakistan.

Karachi is more than a mini-Pakistan. It's population contains large numbers of Burmese, (Swahili speaking) Africans, Filipinos, Bangladeshis, Afghans and so many more. It has over one million Christians; a similar number of Hindus and smaller numbers of Sikhs.

Karachi is home for all of these communities. They are not foreign talent on work permits and employment passes.

Mai Kolachi was and is a mother for all Pakistanis. She welcomes one and all with open arms. Unlike Lahore, Peshawar or most other Pakistani cities, Karachi asks no questions.

Karachi embraces. Arrive on Monday and call Karachi home on Tuesday.

However, until a few years ago Karachi had fallen under the spell of an envious Evil Eye. It seemed there was no end to Karachi's problems. Riots, crime, terrorism, kidnapping and all types of evil became synonymous with the erstwhile City of Lights.

It is this period of darkness which is captured in “Karachi: Our Stories in Our Words” edited by Maniza Naqvi. The book is a collection of short stories by ordinary Karachites. The stories are intimate and take you deep within the pain of the city, as felt by its authors. Indeed, after reading some of the stories one is left wondering how Karachi survived and even grew by millions even during this strife torn period.

Karachi’s strength also shines through in these tales. Karachites never gave up on Mai Kolachi's city. Today, Karachi is not only out of intensive care but well on the road to regaining her past glory. Indeed, maybe even a stronger Karachi has emerged following the pain of recent years.

Imran is an adventurer, blogger, consultant, guide, photographer, speaker, traveler and a banker in his previous life. At the time of writing, Imran is living in Rashidabad until December 2017 while a volunteer at the SST Public School. He is available on twitter (@grandmoofti); Instagram (@imranahmedsg) and can be contacted at imran.ahmed.sg@gmail.com.

The 786 Cybercafe: book review

Bina Shah's book was a nostalgic read for me. As a (Singaporean) Karachite the novel's setting in late 1990s Karachi was a reminder of my own time in Pakistan's commercial capital. The author's descriptions of city streets, shops and even its beaches all evoked special memories for me.

As literature, The 786 Cybercafe is a good effort. The story was realistic. It gives unfamilar readers an insight into Karachi. Thankfully, the author refrained from turning the novel into an explicit political commentary. Ms. Shah refrained from making judgements about Pakistan's urban social values. Instead, the reader is left to make up one's own mind about these traditions.

The characters - mainly young people reflecting the city's youth population bulge developed well as the story progressed. Surely, they were at times stereotyped but I guess it's to wrote a novel without some degree of stereotyping.

The plot was enjoyable, especially the latter half of the book where I found myself wishing to rush ahead to learn the fate of Nadia – the book's main female character. Indeed, through Nadia the author makes an understated yet powerful feminist statement. (It is entirely possible that many readers may not even grasp these serious feminist undertones.)

The 786 Cybercafe is time well spent. The novel particularly resonates with readers curious about Pakistan's social milieu. While at its heart the book is a simple story, the author does weaves subtle social messages into the plot.

Imran is an adventurer, blogger, consultant, guide, photographer, speaker, traveler and a banker in his previous life. He is available on twitter (@grandmoofti); instagram (@imranahmedsg) and can be contacted at imran.ahmed.sg@gmail.com.

Mohatta Palace Museum: a cultural oasis

Karachi may be Pakistan's largest city and commercial capital but it is a relatively new city. Karachi's newness was underscored at a recent map exhibition titled 'Drawing the Line' at the city's Mohatta Palace Museum.

The exhibition also highlights the continuing impact colonial 'lines' have on today's world. From border disputes to nationalist ethnic movements, 'artificial' frontiers created by colonial bureaucratic cartographers are the bane of many present day disputes. Pakistan, a 'new' nation built on the tenuous premise of a shared religion, itself suffers from many of these 'post-colonial nation building' obstacles.

As Pakistan grapples with varying – often competing - notions of what it means to be an 'Islamic Republic,' indigenous culture and history circumscribes the country's debate about national identity. Museums, as caretakers or even creators of culture, play an instrumental role in these formative discussions.

Karachi's Mohatta Palace Museum provides a welcome voice to the national cultural discussions.

The Mohatta Palace Museum entrance, displaying one of the magnficient gardens around the structure

The museum, owned by the Government of Sindh, is housed in a unique structure constructed in the 1920s as a residence for Shiv Rattan Mohatta, a Hindu businessman from Rajasthan. The architecture of Mohatta Palace contains strong influences from Rajput found in Jaipur, especially in the use of pink Jodhpur stone. Strong Mogul influences are also visible in the building's design.

The building was designed by Agha Ahmed Hussain, believed to be the first Muslim architect in India. Hussain had recently arrived in Karachi from Jaipur to take up the post of Chief Surveyor for the Karachi Municipal Corporation (KMC).

In 1947, Mohatta Palace was acquired by the newly independent state of Pakistan and became the official Ministry of Foreign Affairs building. It remained the Foreign ministry's office until Pakistan's new custom built capital of Islamabad was completed in 1966. Following a brief stay of three years (1964-1967) by Mohtarma Fatima Jinnah, the sister of Pakistan's founder Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah, the palace was abandoned and remained in disrepair until 1995.

Friendly peacocks freely roam the museum gardens and grounds. Here one is seen 'speaking' with your blogger!

In 1995 Mohatta Palace was purchased by the Government of Sindh and converted into a museum. Drawing the Line is simply one of the many exhibitions held at the museum during the last two decades.

The Mohatta Palace Museum is a must see for any person interested in Pakistan's culture and history.

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com.

Islam’s front line is not in Europe or Ulema: time to catch up with your flock

After the recent spate of attacks by Islamic extremists in Europe many have suggested the international media mans the front line against Jihadist Islamic terrorism. Undoubtedly, the Western media constitutes a prime target for Islamic extremists, especially since the provocative cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed became a rallying cry for opposing sides in the debate. However, the real front line for the war of ideas rests neither in Paris nor the rest of the Western world. The true battleground lies in the conservative Islamic heartlands of countries like Pakistan, Egypt or Turkey.

This is a war for the soul of Islam. A war which will be won not by American or NATO soldiers but by Muslim theologians reinterpreting religious edicts in line with the aspirations of the modern Muslim community. These aspirations do not include killing civilians, denying girls' education, making women sit at home or killing polio vaccinators doing their job.

Similar to their non-Muslim counterparts across the world, most Muslims lead humdrum, boring lives. Muslim adults send children to schools, watch their kids start families, become grandparents and lavish affection on their grandchildren. Muslim adults, too, visit dentists and doctors, socialize with friends, watch television and movies.

Muslim hopes and fears are no different from non-Muslim hopes and fears.

Thus, it was encouraging reading the transcript of Egyptian President Sisi's speech to senior Muslim theologians at Al-Azhar University. The Cairo based university is one of the world's oldest and most respected institutions of Islamic learning.

In the speech, Sisi essentially exhorts the Ulema (qualified Islamic theologians) to play a genuine leadership role by returning Islamic dialogue to the realms of normalcy, especially in so far as Islamic law deals with interactions with non-Muslims. In actuality, theologians are simply being asked to endorse the common sense approach to life already employed by the majority of Muslims around the world.

One must applaud Sisi's efforts to galvanize Islamic clerics in the battle for the Islamic mind. Unfortunately, the influence of ultra-conservative clerics fed by a steady diet of petrodollars by oil rich nations remains powerful. It may take many more Islamic philosophers with the fervent vision of Allama Iqbal before a clear consensus about the Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam becomes a reality.

Meanwhile, the ordinary Muslim walking the streets of Karachi - not Cannes - is the one in the firing line for her 'moderate' beliefs. By challenging ideas propagated by Islamic extremists in her daily life, she moves us closer to the final victory against obscurantists currently polluting Islamic beliefs.  

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com. 

Karachi, history and Pakistan's mighty Indus River

In Pakistan the mighty Indus River historically nourishes life around the country. To Singaporeans, the river may not be important enough to include in the menu of the zoo's River Safari attractions but it was important enough to spawn the Indus Valley civilization during 3300 - 1300 BC. At its peak, the civilization may have cradled up to five million people - a phenomenal number for its day.

A tributary of the Indus River in Pakistan's norther Khyber Pukhtunkhwa province

However, unlike Singapore where the Singapore River is never far from view, the Indus River is not normally visible from Pakistan's largest city, Karachi. (But then Pakistan is not a kampong, city and nation-state rolled into one entity!)

Fortunately, the Indus River cannot be blamed for the historical aberration, i.e. development of a large metropolis built away from the river's banks.

Karachi is a new city. The city's present population of twenty-three million is a far cry from the Karachi's 500,000 residents in 1947, the year of Pakistan's creation. Sindhis and Baloch, the historical inhabitants of Sindh province of which Karachi is the capital, are now virtually a minority in the province. Surely, this has created tensions between the city's 'old' and the 'new' (sound familiar Singapore?). These stresses will be worked out naturally over time, as a national 'Pakistani' consciousness develops over the course of a few more generations.

But a region's history stays with its people irrespective of their rulers or the color of its passport. Since the 1500s, Pakistan's territories have seen the Mughals, the British and umpteen 'independent' dynasties rule different areas for varying periods of time. Unfortunately for Pakistanis, many parts of Pakistan have historically been 'frontier' regions with violent warfare between different parties almost a part of the cultural landscape. Khyber Pukhtunkhwa province, formerly known as the Northwest Frontier Province, and Balochistan are cases in point. Both zones were frequently contested between Delhi and the Afghan / Persian kingdoms respectively.

Some of the warring continues to this day. The ideological battle between militant, bearded Islam and ordinary Pakistanis has spilt much blood during the last decade. While Pakistan's Fashion Week takes place in one part of Karachi, the 'jahil' mullahs' self proclaimed 'enforcers of civilization' attack polio vaccination teams in other parts of the city and country!

The good news: forces of progress and moderation are in the ascendancy while the religious bigots are desperately seeking to hang on to the limited space made available to them through intimidation and threats. The bad news: the physical and ideological battle will continue for years to come. The soil around the Indus River will soak in much more innocent - and not so innocent - blood before the war ends.

The banks of the river Indus are hazy with clouds and dust

Added to it is the fire of war

Kindled by us, we burnt each other

Now that it has spread far and wide

We are too weary to put it out

Poem by Mir Bijar, a 16th century Balochi poet.

Translated from Balochi by Parveen Talpur. 'Footnotes: Selected Verses of Great Poets,' Parveen Talpur. Ferozsons, 2006.

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of regional businesses. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com. 

Reflections from Pakistan XI: Islamabad is a foreign city

Islamabad is Pakistan's custom built capital. A city built on an empty piece of land during the 1960s. Until recently, Pakistanis were not 'from' Islamabad – they just happened to live in Islamabad. (Until recently, only bureaucrats and diplomats lived in Islamabad.) However, today a new generation of 'Islamabadis,' with their own culture and lifestyle has emerged.

Islamabad's location on the Potohar Plateau surrounded by the Margalla Hills was no accident. Despite sitting astride an earthquake fault line, President Ayub Khan selected the location due to its proximity with Rawalpindi, Lahore and Peshawar. As a bonus, nearby hill stations like Murree, standing at a comfortable 2,300 meters above sea level, are just about one hour drive north. From the capital, Lahore is several hours drive south while Peshawar is a road journey of a couple of hours northwest.

Daman-e-Koh park in the Margalla Hills which surround Islamabad

Islamabad is home to Pakistan's Parliament and civil bureaucratic leadership. The country's lawmakers and senior mandarins live in nice, leafy neighbourhoods dotted across the city's 900 square kilometer area. Despite being the country's capital, many Pakistanis feel Islamabad is a foreign city; not a part of the 'real' Pakistan. It is easy to understand why such a belief is so widespread.

Islamabad has a sense of order and logic absent from Pakistan's other cities. The 'grid' design of Islamabad city streets helps reinforce the perception of order. In stark contrast, Pakistan's other cities have developed with little or no urban planning. Cities like Karachi and Lahore are breaking under the weight of the country's ever expanding population.

Islamabad's order is far removed from the problems of 'real' Pakistan. Thus, by residing in Islamabad, Pakistani lawmakers and senior mandarins have little practical understanding of the life experienced by most Pakistanis.

Given Pakistan's multitude of serious problems, it is easy to understand why the Pakistani political elite might wish to insulate itself from the rest of the nation by sticking its head inside Islamabad's hallowed ground.

Unfortunately, Pakistan's problems are compounding to the extent that Islamabadis cannot hide from them any longer. Islamabad has electricity rationing like the rest of the country. Extremist mullahs make noise in Islamabad – even violently such as during the 2007 Lal Masjid incident, 2008 attack on Islamabad's Marriott Hotel, or most recently during protests in September 2012 against an allegedly blasphemous film – as in the rest of the country. Other ills plaguing Pakistan, including crime, inflation and unemployment, ultimately find themselves seeping through Islamabad's sterilized door.

Certainly, Islamabad is a nice showcase for Pakistan. But Islamabad is a foreign country. Pakistanis can only hope Prime Minister designate Nawaz Sharif's government will remember there is more to Pakistan than Islamabad (and Lahore).

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com. 

Sharif’s enviable tasks for Pakistan

With Pakistan's elections out of the way, Pakistanis are eagerly anticipating two things sorely missed during the last five years of democracy: governance and leadership.

One would expect democracy – with its large quotient of accountability to the people – will have provided large doses of both governance and leadership to Pakistan.  Not so. Since the removal of President Musharraf's regime, the only aspect of democracy visible to most Pakistanis has been an unmistakable slide towards anarchy.

The military, still smarting from the ignominies associated with the final few years of Musharraf's rule, stayed away from active politics. Moreover, the military is busy fighting Taliban militants bent on undermining the Pakistani state. It was left to an activist judiciary to try and maintain some semblance of control over an inept civilian government. The judiciary's controversial efforts unseated Prime Minister Gilani but failed to galvanize the government to implement any meaningful policy reforms.

Imran Khan, the white knight ever-ready to save Pakistan, made some electoral inroads in Election 2013. Khan's party was helped by the 'protest vote' against Pakistan's two mainstream political parties (vehicles for Zaradari and Sharif). Having won the most seats in the Khyberpukhtoonkhwa (KPK) provincial assembly, Khan has the opportunity to prove himself by forming the KPK government. Voters will be watching closely to see how his party fares in the rough and tumble of Pakistani politics.  

Nonetheless, Nawaz Sharif won a handsome victory in Election 2013. People expect him to put his mandate to good use. Top of the nation's wish list are security and reliable electricity. Sharif has the reputation of being pro-business. Surely, a businessperson understands that electricity is a prerequisite for a modern economy!

Additionally, people outside of Sharif's stronghold of Punjab province will scrutinize his focus on Pakistan's three smaller provinces. Will he abandon the likes of Karachi, rural Sindh, KPK and Balochistan or will the federal government help to provincial governments' resolve pressing issues? If Sharif acts as the Prime Minister of Punjab, the strategic repercussions for the federation may be severe. Already, separatist forces are clearly at work in Balochistan. It will not take much for disgruntled elements to undermine the federation in the other provinces.

Zardari's government chose to compromise national interests in favor of competing personal interests. Sure, Pakistanis can vote out Sharif's government in five years if his party too fails the country. However, the country is fast running out of time; and five years is a long time in today's wired age.

Pakistan rightly expect Sharif's incoming regime to make progress in stemming the country's decline. Pakistanis may not tolerate another five years of supporting a political elite which does no more than attend the National Assembly a few times a year, while keeping themselves isolated from national consciousness behind multiple layers of state sponsored security.

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com. 

Reflections from Pakistan IX: Lahore and the 1971 Indo-Pak War

From Pakistan's agricultural heartland of Multan, I travelled to Lahore. As a die-hard Karachite, Lahore always evokes mixed feelings within me. There is the nascent emotion, fuelled by some politicians and segments of the media, of Punjabi perceived hegemony over other parts of Pakistan. Punjab's rise as a major industrial and commercial region in the 1990s, mainly at Karachi's expense, also does nothing to soothe my fears, particularly if Punjab's economic emergence is viewed as an offshoot of the Nawaz Sharif's clan's nepotism.

However, common sense brings me back to reality. By population, Punjab is Pakistan's largest province. It is natural (and logical) that Punjab will play a significant role in the country's affairs, through enlistment in the bureaucracy and the military.

The 'hot button' issues between Punjab and the 'others' pertain to allocation of power and money - matters such as the use of the fast depleting water resources of the Indus River or the federal government powers to collect tax across the four provinces. (The 'others' in the debate being Pakistan's less populated provinces of Balochistan, Khyber Pukhtoonkhwa and Sindh.)

For the moment, I will resist the temptation to jump into the fray and allow the Council of Common Interests to ensure an equitable arrangement for Pakistan's population. I admit, it is a dangerous act –almost treason – to leave such a seminal matter to Zaradari and his henchmen but there are enough vocal critics around the country to give me solace in my silence.

Back to Lahore. My mother is from Lahore. In fact, her family's ancestry places her on the fringes of Lahore's nobility. My grandfather, Sheikh Azimullah, was one of colonial India's first Muslim lawyers. 'Native' lawyers were rare a hundred or so years ago.

As an anti-colonialist, he fought for change in a sustainable manner, through the system. His pragmatic acceptance of the British colonial system is evidenced by his appointment as the Mayor of Lahore by the British. However, as a Muslim intellectual, he rubbed shoulders with Allama Iqbal – the spiritual Godfather of independent Pakistan – and devoted significant efforts towards the uplift of the subcontinent's Muslim community. For this purpose, he founded several educational and charitable institutions.

But my Lahore is different from my grandfather's Lahore. To me, Lahore is where I witnessed the 1971 Indo-Pak war: a modern legacy of hatred born in the post-colonial era.

1971 was an exciting time to be an ignorant five year old boy. At the time, the implications of war and the reality of violence were unknown to me. I never even knew when the war started or ended.  

For me the war was symbolized by the freshly dug trench in our garden, to be used in case of an air raid on the city. It seemed natural for me to watch an Indian air force plane being downed by a Pakistani fighter jet during a dogfight witnessed from our kitchen door. Even a five year old boy could recognize the green and white decals on a Pakistan Air Force plane. (At the time, Pakistan had access to superior Western military technology and was part of the 'Free World.' India, meanwhile, was an ally of communist Soviet Union and India's relations with the West were tense.)  

But my memories of Lahore are much more than simply the 1971 war.

As any young boy in Lahore, I flew kites any chance I got. I will never forget the day a huge kite – the obvious loser in a neighbourhood 'pecha' or kite fight – flew unclaimed into our garden. To this five year old, it was the largest kite ever.

A man cooking breakfast inside the old, walled city of Lahore

Today's Lahore retains some of yesterday's character. The enclosed walled city of the Mogul's still exists. The Shalimar Gardens and Emperor Jahangir's tombs stand. Nonetheless, in so many other ways Lahore is just another of Pakistan's cities. Traffic is horrendous. Population pressures are everywhere. The infrastructure is under serious stress.

Perhaps the best way to describe Lahore is that it is not Karachi! Karachi is a 'youngish' free for all where few have the time to worry about others. Lahore seeps history from its pores and is a goldfish bowl. Everyone watches everyone watching everyone.  

In Lahore, families have histories. Relatives matter. Etiquette and protocol are important. Traditions have faded but not disappeared. For those wishing to escape Lahore's traditions (or family pressures), there still remains the nuclear option: up and move to Karachi.

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Imran is a business and management consultant. Through his work at Deodar Advisors and the Deodar Diagnostic, Imran improves profits of businesses operating in Singapore and the region. He can be reached at imran@deodaradvisors.com.