It is a December 2007 Monday evening, and that very desirable, likeable, and chilly weather has set in. In a sense, there is a relief for Karachi atleast weather wise. The power failure, and the electricity shortage will not hurt as such. But let me put that biting power theme aside, and focus on the climate.
A friend of mine insists that the mood of the people in Karachi improves in this cool, cold weather, and that the frustrations that I have just had, are allayed, as always, by a cup of traditional Peshawari chicken soup that is sold by decked-up pushcart vendors, who I have noticed have upgraded their retail outlets to compete with the times. Market competition for selling soup, Peshawari or Chinese is tougher than ever before. The demand for the soup is steep as the weather changes, and cold winds hit the city. They come from Quetta, of course. And we all know that. As I had the chicken soup, and resisted the "desi" egg that could have come with it, on my mind were issues relating to the political climate in the country.
Questions about the general election scheduled for the 8th of next month. The threats of boycott that are coming from the Opposition parties, and their concerned about rigging and pre-poll rigging that are being heard. The overall uncertainty is rising.
This evening the TV channels have reported that Mian Nawaz Sharif's papers for the election to the National Assembly have also been rejected, and that there have been some clashes between the PPP and the ANP in Peshawar. And there has been some trouble between two groups of the PML-N in Islamabad. Many worrying thoughts come to the mind with these stories.
That cup of Peshawari brought back memories of many of the colleagues and friends that I have enjoyed the soup with in the last three decades. Or more. One of these soup sellers is still in business at Guru Mandir, near the New Town Mosque, and the realisation that we know each other for that length of time is in itself a good feeling. I am prejudiced in his favour, even though there are others whose soup is better, I must concede.
This is a poor man's soup, and being hot and spicy, it is enjoyable. Many of those whom I have relished this soup on cold evenings in December or January have either become part of history or have lost that enthusiasm to enjoy the Peshawari soup in the open, as the chilly winds blow into the face.
At this point of time this year, not just melancholy but also nostalgia is around the corner. Memories are easy to evoke, and the past is ever willing to be a companion. And what a companion it can be. Not the silent companion who can make the heart bleed, but one whose eloquence and magical powers can make one realise the charisma of yesteryears. The inspiring power of what has been. Lost time, or time gained to enrich the heart and the soul. Nothing is lost for forever. Or is it?
I am reminded of William Wordsworth, the English Romantic poet, and would like to paraphrase from his poetic lines wherein he said that even though nothing can bring back the past, there was no need to "grieve" and that it was an opportunity to find "strength in what remains behind." Is this what is called by the optimist as seeing the glass as half full?
After having enjoyed the cup full of steaming Peshawari soup and avoided the second one so as not to ruin my calorie conscious dinner, it was time to write this column. But not before I was offered by a colleague his favourite dried melon seeds, sprinkled moderately (as against generously) with spice (or was it just salt and pepper?). This seemed an appropriate follow-up to the soup, but not before I had some good strong "mixture" tea, (from tea bags) from a brand to which I was introduced by chance. The aroma from the mug of tea which was being taken for the office liftman was too strong a temptation to overcome. It was not the "doodh patti" which we are all familiar with, I might clarify.
Let me tell you that the soup, the seeds and tea are only tentative and transient stops this evening. There are the deeper agonising concerns that we all have about the general election scheduled for 8th January 2008.
Good Lord, 2007 is already over, and 2008 is already here. What we have done for democracy is something countrymen have been wondering all these blessed years. Or what have we done for the poor of this society?
Good Lord, 16th of December has come again (and why not) and I am reminded here of the fall of Dhaka, the tragedy of East Pakistan (1971). It is 36 years now that we lost half the country, and the saddest part is that the young generation of today either don't know or never got to know enough. Forget the reasons, my friend.
Good Lord, it is election time. Is this boycott time? Will there really be allegations and counter-allegations of rigging the results of the January 8, 2008 polls? And will there be violence and bloodshed?
Just a thought as I change the subject: citizens are noticing and discussing the extent to which the United States of America is trying to ensure that the elections are free and fair and that all the opposition parties participate.
Anyway I was happy and content to have had melon seeds this evening, as I thought of the seeds of democracy in Pakistan. What happened to them? And what of the fruits of democracy? Who took that away?