Part I of the series can be accessed here

In Part II of this series, Raza Rumi travels to India’s thriving megapolis with a media delegation

After a whirlwind Delhi tour, the Pakistani media persons set off for a fleeting visit to Mumbai. If I am not mistaken, ours was the first big delegation to this megapolis that crossed the contemporary fault line between India and Pakistan. Less than a dozen zealot-mercenaries terrorized Mumbai twenty months ago, and now the issue of terrorism has derailed the formal Indo-Pakistan talks.

This was not a very comfortable journey. Not that we were not looked after by our hosts. It was a well-organized tour. But the overdose of Mumbai mantra in Delhi had rattled some of us. What happened there in November 2008 was ghastly and inhuman; and Ajmal Kasab’s nationality stirred public opinion like never before. Thanks to a belligerent media and live telecast of terrorism (almost to the point of glorifying it) the result was what the jihadis had hoped for. Jingoism flourishes in such odd climes and the Mumbai hangover, as we all found, is a potent reality in India.

Within the delegation, I underwent a strange sensation – of a remote, awkward connectedness with the place. Twenty years ago, as an apolitical and naive student I had arrived in Bombay to see my friends from the London School of Economics. This was a ten day long trip, which I shall not forget for many reasons. I found a cosmopolitan buzz, abject poverty and immense human bonding then. I stayed in a building where Bollywood’s long-lasting diva Helen lived, and met scores of young men and women who looked the same but adhered to a different lifestyle. (more…)

Muslimness is an elusive state of being. There are watertight strictures of the theological identity defined by men, interpreted as the Sharia, on the one hand; and the broad political and cultural sense of the self, on the other. Identity, in any case, is a messy affair: shifty, shifting and eventually, imagined. While 9/11 placed Muslims at the centre stage of global politics, the broth had already been simmering in the cauldrons of biased academe and pop reality mirrored through the blood-thirsty lens of corporate media.

So what is it to be a Muslim? An inflexible bag of rituals? Or a cultural sense of belonging or a deeper dogma ingrained in young minds? I have never considered myself anything but a believer, a ‘practicing Muslim’. This has never been at variance with my secular and inclusive pretensions, despite the fact that the clergy in my country considers secularism akin to atheism, a sort of mirror image of the Pakistani political foundation. The clerics translate secular as la-deen , at best irreligious, and at worst, godless.

Ironical that this business of religious identity is articulated in a land that was the crucible of the secular Indus Valley civilization, non-militant Buddhism and a peculiar version of South Asian Islam that spread via the Sufi khanqahs and was a sort of amalgam of the Central Asian with the ancient South Asian. Even more ironical is the reality, neglected and veiled, that lived Islam is located around dargahs , tribal codes and customs which are irreligious in their own way. But who cares? Referred to as the world’s most dangerous country, Pakistan, according to the pundits of global opinion, is a haven for Islamic terrorists. Collateral damage, therefore, is kosher and a necessity to undo the unstated part of the ‘axis of evil’.

Labels and more labels. On the global shelves such products sell well and work in favour of a war machine hungry for energy resources, territory and blood. (more…)

Fatehpur Sikri – March 16, 2009, originally uploaded by Jahane Rumi.

I was in Fatehpur Sikri a week ago. I love going there again and again. The place is calm and represents architecture that can be easily described as frozen music.
This entrance is close to the shrine of the Sufi saint Salim Chishty – there are countless graves of Mughal era – mostly of the disciples of the great Saint whose best known follower was Emperor Akbar.
This was a spring afternoon and therefore an appropriate time to visit the place. But I am not happy with my visit. it was too short.
I will return.

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Read this impassioned appeal in the press – it also alerted me to the situation that haunts this ancient relic.

The city is built beside an old Buddhist metropolis of 4th century. There are remnants of the Stupa in ancient city known as Kahoo Jo Daro.

The Stupa on Moen Jo Daro , Kahoo Jo Daro and some other un-excavated Stupas can be classified as the lower Indus basin sites. They are different in art & material. Mud & terracotta is widely used instead of stone. (more…)

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Salman Rashid muses on the ancient site of Rannikot in Sindh and prefers that it is”enigmatic, inscrutable, inviting”

One thing is certain about Rannikot: it is ancient. The most tangible proof of its great age is the remains of the bridge at Sann Gate. A bridge is necessary on a flowing river, but this part of Sindh is arid, its rivers flowing only during the largely unpredictable rains. This has been the case for most of its recorded history, but there was a time when Sindh had a much wetter climate and when all its mountain streams flowed. As an aside, Moen jo Daro and other prehistoric sites were all built of kiln-baked bricks, that is, there was sufficient timber to fire those kilns to bake virtually hundreds of millions of bricks. And timber comes from forests which thrive in a wet climate.

This comparatively wetter climate persisted until about the beginning of our era. Then the Ranni River was a perennial stream turning into a goodly torrent with the coming of the seasonal rains. That is when the bridge at Sann Gate was first built to connect the battlements on either bank of the river. Even earlier, however, there would have been a fortress in this area, perhaps near present day Mohan Gate, to oversee the passing of trading caravans between Bhambor and Kandahar along the ancient route that lies just outside the western walls of Rannikot. And it was this ancient fortification that was enlarged several fold to create the Rannikot of today. (more…)

I wasn’t sure if I had posted this old piece here. Just found it in my records and thought I should share it….

The end of year vacation is peculiar: it lets one sum up the changes -planetary and otherwise – of a year and muse on the year to come. This year’s finale had to be calm as the year was exhausting; and it had to be close to the sea since I had recently finished reading Iris Murdoch’s fabulous novel, The Sea, The Sea (not to be confused with John Banville’s Booker-winner The Sea, which, as the title suggests, is only half as impressive).

Murdoch’s writing and the right constellation led me to a relatively unknown beach resort at Luzon on the shores of the South China Sea. The area south of the Taiwan Strait all the way up to a point near the equator, including Hainan Island, comprises South China Sea. This was historically the beginning of the ‘oceanic silk route.’ Silk trade during the Han dynasty took place on this route that began at Southern China, crossed India and Ceylon, the Red Sea and finally, like all roads, led to Rome. I wasn’t going for the history, I must admit, I was inspired by Murdoch again, who wrote “All artists dream of a silence which they must enter, as some creatures return to the sea to spawn.” Apparently even non-artists can dream of silence, so forgive my pretensions. (more…)

This piece of mine appeared in the Hindustan Times yesterday. An accidental piece it was, written on the request of a friend during my recent stopover in Delhi.

Delhi-Lahore hip factor

Be it Khan Market or MM Alam Road,  life for young guns in both Delhi and Lahore is a blend of cafe culture, cool music and retail nirvana

A Pakistani like me who is visiting Delhi cannot help but identify the commonalities between the Indian capital and Lahore. The climate, the predominant Punjabi influence, the urban chaos and indeed the quest for a good life are as shared as the centuries of mixed history.

In Delhi, these ingredients are packaged into a single space, loved and mourned in equal measure, the Khan Market. Its swanky cafes, retail outlets spell out a comfortable sense of the plentiful. A trip to Bahri Booksellers is essential to check on the new, profound and banal book titles. Step out of the book-zone, walk around and you see young men and women holding hands and out to buy a little dose of happiness from the upmarket retail stores. New frames for glasses, an array of pret-a-porter garments and of course cafes where one can lounge while sipping an exotic coffee brew with a fancy cake. Barista is a favourite of mine with its neo-modernity ambiance and an ample variety to select from. If Barista is crowded, one turns to Cafe Turtle. Wi-fi access is available in these places along with soft music and trendy customers, whose snazzy mobile telephones rest silently on clean little tables. Connectivity is another facet of the global search for fulfillment.

In Khan Market cafes, one reminisces about similar haunts in Lahore. The MM Alam Road there is now a bustling venue for stylish cafes and restaurants that are popular hangouts for the youth defying the silly stereotypes of Pakistan. Men and women converse in their designer jeans about the world, quite unaware of the residual violence of the war on terror on the Pak-Afghan border. The Coffee & Tea Company is hugely popular. Another joint, Massom, a pancake lounge, sells mouth-watering desserts with coffee brews and plays cool music as one plunges into leather sofas to chill. Places such as Cafe Zouk, Hobb-Nobbs, Jamin Java continue to lure the hip Lahorites.
Since globalisation’s onslaught on Pakistan, Lahore’s traditional love for eating out has transformed into a fusion culture bonanza. The Hot Spot Cafe, Little Italy, Cafe Aylanto and The Dish have emerged as havens of cross-continental culinary blending. Young women drive alone to meet up with friends at these places; and hordes of teens are seen flocking to the Pizza Huts, McDonalds and Kentucky Fried Chicken outlets.

While the affluent have these arenas, the underclass youth, both in Lahore and Delhi, finds its own recreational spaces in Carom and Snooker clubs, sleazy internet cafes with loads of porn, the weekly trips to parks; and the occasional sojourns to police lock ups. Life goes on. Globalization has something to offer to everyone.

by Shreekant Gupta

During a recent visit to Delhi I mentioned to my aunt that I planned to visit Rawalpindi next week for a wedding. Her expression changed to one of worried concern. “But beta is it safe to go there?” she asked. I assured her that if there was one country in the world where I could blend and not feel out of place and where I was welcomed with open arms it was Pakistan. Having been there on four previous occasions once with a group of students from the Delhi School of Economics traversing the country for two weeks, I had ample experience of the legendary Pakistani hospitality and warmth to assuage her fears. But her comment set me thinking. Why is Pakistan attracting such bad press these days? It is often dubbed as the most dangerous place in the world. Certainly there are parts of the country that are seriously troubled and occasionally the violence spills over into the major cities. (more…)

This blogger has been travelling since the last two weeks: visiting the various Sufi shrines in India and meeting up old and new friends. And, after years of silence, my inner music found a voice. But the gods had other plans.

Since the 27th of that wretched December, everything has been overshadowed by the ghastly murder of Pakistan’s best known and perhaps the only national leader. (more…)

Indian Muslims blog has posted my travel piece on Delhi.

“…, I tell my workmate of the 22 khawajas buried under Delhi’s soil and the very central role this place has performed in the growth of Sufism in South Asia. My colleague is a little nonplussed as I hold forth, declaring that Delhi is a grand Muslim resource centre. By now, I have made an early morning dash to the Lodhi gardens and walked around the Humayun’s enchanting tomb. My fascination with the saints has not ended and on Thursday I find myself at the dargah of Khawaja Qutbuddin Bakhtiyar Kaki. Aibak was a mureed (disciple) of the saint Khawaja, after whom he named the Qutub Minar. Quite appropriately, the dargah is next to Qutub Minar in the quintessentially medieval Mehrouli area. Bahadur Shah Zafar also built a new residential palace here.”

Read the full article here

This sounds like an exciting initiative. A newly established space – The Second Floor - holds much promise. This is what the website has to say:

Coffeehouse tradition is all about sparking conversations – and we’re passionate about providing a platform for people to engage with each other. Our society is insular and inhibited and we intend to break that mould. Through regular events such as poetry readings, book signings, workshops, talks, debates, film screenings, unplugged music sessions, and stand-up comedy, we hope to get people to think, question, and take action.

I have to visit t2f on my next trip to Karachi. Such developments always reaffirm my faith in the innate buoyancy of Karachi and its citizenry. I refuse to accept the analyses that predict all doom and gloom for Karachi.

Or maybe I am just a fool…

Malaysia has entered the fifty first year of its existence. This has been a half-century of determination, progress and keeping a fine balance between the diverse communities, races and cultures in the country. But Malaysia achieved successes against all odds.

True that it confronts issues of ethnic and religious tension and the side effects of controlled politics. However, prosperity assures that most of the citizens find a stake in national unity and the country’s future!

I am a little allergic to the magnified tales of tensions in the country especially by a media that we know is neither fair nor benign. Which country of the world is free of internal schisms and struggles? Fifty years is too early to assess that. Or is it the case that this rapid success without reliance on the Western prescriptions and defying the post-colonial clientelism is at play. Inverse racism of sorts. Hope I am wrong…

Or is it that there is a Muslim majority which by definition (in the global propaganda) raises alarm bells? Maybe the images of women with scarves participating in the economic and political life of the country upsets all the stereotypes about women’s “subjugation” by Islam. Many things irk the masters of stereotyping and branding agents of a new imperialism.

It is also a country that welcomes its tourists and makes sure that they enjoy their stay, Islamism notwithstanding. It also challenges the highlights of a recently independent ‘developing’ country: poverty, low levels of education, crumbling infrastructure, crime and dependence?

Unfortunately it is true that tensions in the society and calls for an “Islamic” society dilute its attempts to maintain ethnic harmony and channelise national resources to sustain gains already made. But like many Malaysians, I share the optimism and wish the country and its people the best.

Happy Independence Day – I love Malaysia (truly Asia!).

Postscript: My optimism on Malaysia in an older piece.