Shiraz Hassan

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Really Short and Amazing Stories

1. Today, after a 72 hour shift at the fire station, a woman ran up to me at the grocery store and gave me a hug. When I tensed up, she realized I didn’t recognize her. She let go with tears of joy in her eyes and the most sincere smile and said, “On 9-11-2001, you carried me out of the World Trade Center.”

2. Today, at the age of 70, my grandfather graduated from college with a bachelor’s degree in business studies. He’s been a successful business owner most of his life, but he told me he earned his degree to fulfill a promise he made to his mother before she lost her battle with cancer 50 years ago.

3. Today, my mom is a healthy 54 year old who successfully owns and operates a popular bakery downtown – a goal she had all her life. 15 years ago she was diagnosed with cancer. In the face of death, she quit her store clerk job, opened the bakery, started chemo therapy, and succeeded on all fronts.

4. Today, after I watched my dog get run over by a car, I sat on the side of the road holding him and crying. And just before he died, he licked the tears off my face.

5. Today, as a young ‘up and coming’ lawyer, everyone in the firm was congratulating me for winning my first big case this morning. And all day long all I could think about is how I used a technicality in the law to help a murderer walk away a free man.

6. Today, on our 50th wedding anniversary, she smiled at me and said, “I only wish I had met you sooner.”

7. Today, after 2 years of separation, my ex-wife and I resolved our differences and met for dinner. We laughed and chatted for almost 4 hours. Then just before she left, she handed me a large envelope. In it were 20 love letters she wrote me over the last 2 years. There was a post-it note on the envelope that said, “Letters I was too stubborn to send.”

8. Today, when I slipped on the wet tile floor a boy in a wheelchair caught me before I slammed my head on the ground. He said, “Believe it or not, that’s almost exactly how I injured my back 3 years ago.”

9. Today, someone else’s tragedy provided the miracle my family had prayed for. Thanks to this stranger, my dad will have a heart. It’s so odd to think that an accidental death just saved his life.

10. Today marks the ten year anniversary of the day when I slapped him and screamed at him remorselessly for not letting me in the bathroom after we ate breakfast. That moment also marks the positive turning point in my battle with Bulimia. I think he saved my life that day.

11. Today at 7AM I woke up feeling ill, but decided I needed the money, so I went in to work. At 3PM I got laid off. On my drive home I got a flat tire. When I went into the trunk for the spare, it was flat too. A man in a BMW pulled over, gave me a ride, we chatted, and then he offered me a job. I start tomorrow.

12. Today, I was working in a coffee shop when 2 gay men walked in holding hands. As you might expect, heads started turning. Then a young girl at the table next to me asked her mom why 2 men were holding hands. Her mom replied, “Because they love each other.”

13. Today, after the funeral, I went back to my parent’s empty house – the house I grew up in. As I gazed around in awe of all the great memories we made in it, I noticed an old photo of my parent’s in their 20’s sitting on the coffee table. In my father’s handwriting, across the back was written, “In this moment, we were infinite.”

14. Today, as I walked away from the airport gate alone with my head held high and eyes beet red from crying, I knew at that moment what it meant to be a military wife.

15. Today, a lady walked up to me in the gym and asked me to give her some workout pointers. She said, “You look incredible! Watching you gradually tone-up and progress in here has become my primary inspiration to get in shape.” It made me smile because I’ve struggled with my weight since I was 15.

16. Today, my grandpa died. As I was crying and telling my grandma how sorry I was, she said, “Let’s stop being so sad and instead celebrate the 80 wonderful years he was alive… 60 of which he spent with me.”

17. Today, as my father, three brothers, and two sisters stood around my mother’s hospital bed, my mother uttered her last coherent words before she died. She simply said, “I feel so loved right now. We should have gotten together like this more often.”

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Chelsea of Lahore – Bhati Gate

Bhati gate

There was a time when caravans of fragrances used to pass by the streets of Lahore, but today it is a fuss created by direction less crowd. The remaining old cultural identities are dependent on the very few literary and cultural events. Bhaati Gate of old Lahore has always been famous as the centre of literature, knowledge, and art. One can easily experience the glimpse of the real cultural flavour of Lahore and old heritage right after crossing the gate. The twisting narrow streets, weaker structures, and doors with classic designs are the storytellers of the great past. Because of the literary activities of Bhaati gate Hakeem Ahmed Shuja declared it as “Chelsea of Lahore”.

This gate is situated at the north of the old city; Mori Gate is at the right side whereas Taxali Gate is on the left. There was a Tonga station and an empty ground, alongside the gate, where circus shows used to held. On the left of the gate the mosque and tomb of Ghulam Rasool is situated, He is famous as “Billion Wali Sarkaar” (Master of Cats).

In the books of history the account of this gate can be seen in the mid of 3rd century with reference to the Conqueror Raja Karpal Rao. Karpal built a castle with the name of “Bhatnair”. His offspring called Bhutti and Bhaati. In “Lahore ka Chelsea” (Chelsea of Lahore) Hakeem Ahmed Shuja writes;

The real name of the gate is Bhutti gate, and it is the point where Bhutti Warriors of Multan camped before the arrival of Mughals and with time, “Bhutti “spoiled into “Bhaati”.

In 11th century when Hazrat Data Ali Hajveri came to Lahore from Ghazni, he stayed near this gate. Outside the gate near Circular Road the Tomb of Data Sahab and Qarbala Gamy Shah is situated. Another narrative about the name of this gate is the presence of Bhutti Clan who used to live there for centuries. This clan was famous of the art of lock making.

A hookah shop

Many theatre companies were working in the ground near the gate until 1930. These companies started to die after 1930 when film and cinema came to Lahore; first cinema of Lahore was also built during that period. Lollywood, or Lahore film industry have its foundations in that part of the city.

The old “Uchi Masjid” (Tall Mosque) is situated inside the gate. As per books, the spiritual mentor of Baba Bulleh Shah, Shah Inayat Qadri was the Imam of this mosque. However, there is no detail about that when and who built this mosque.

Bhaati Gate, apparently, based on double arches of Gothic style. There are barracks and verandas on the both sides of the gate, these barracks are the part of old wall of the city. This gate is longer than rest of the gates of Lahore and it is 187 feet long.

This gate was re-built during British rule, tough in this construction the defence perspective and the real aesthetics of the gate were not considered. Bhaati Bazaar links to the road to Taxali Gate via Bazaar Hakeeman, and Tibi Bazaar.

This gate is also famous because Koocha Faqeer Khana and Faqeer Khana museum. Faqeer family was an honoured family since Maharaja Ranjeet Singh era, and this family has been part of Sikh court for years. This family is still residing near this gate; the house of Faqeer family has been converted to a museum. This is the biggest private nature museum of South East Asia. This museum holds memorable antiques belong to Sikh and British era. The Imam Bargah of Sayida Mubarik Begam (wife of Syed Mratab Ali) is situated near Faqeer Khana. The mansion of Faqeer Syed Iftikhar Udin shares walls with this imam bargah. The immediate neighbour to this building is the mansion of Syed Imam Udin; he was a highly rank officer at Qila Gobind Garh during Sikh era. The graves of Syed Mratab Ai Shah and his wife Sayda Mubarik Ali are in the compound of this mansion. Today this Mansion has been turned into an art gallery and a school, where students are trained, free of cost, in painting, calligraphy, and sculpture making. The Mosque built by Hakeem Abdullah Ansari is also standing near these mansions. This mosque is the reason behind the name of “Bazaar e Hakeeman”.

Bhaati gate used to be the home of intellectuals, the “Pesa Akhbar” (penny Newspaper) was issued from this very place by Munshi Mehboob Alam, the famous magazine “Makhzan” of Sir Abdulqadir was first issued from here, famous Urdu drama writer Agha Hashar has also been resident of this area. As per the information in the book, “Lahore Ka Chelsea” (Chelsea of Lahore) Allama Iqbal lived in Jalottian Mohala his apartment was on the upper story of the shop of Ghaseto Halwai (confectioner); he lived here from 1900 to 1905 while he was Assistant Professor at Government College.

Iqbal House inside Bhati gate

There used to be literary and poetic sittings at Bazaar e Hakeeman in those days, famous intellectuals, scholars, poets, and politicians of Lahore such as Molana Muhammad Hassan Jalandhri, Sir Abdulqadir, Allama Iqbal, Sir Shahab Udin, Sir Muhammad Shah Din, Sir Muhammad Shafi, and Faqeer Iftikhar Udin were regular part of those sittings. In 1901 when the first edition of Makhzan was published, Iqbal’s first natural poem “Hamala” was featuring in it. All those poems that Iqbal wrote before going to England and later on the published in “Bang e Dara” were written while he was living in Bhaati Gate.

The mansion of Session Judge Syed Muhammad Latif, who is more famous because of his book “Tareekh e Lahore” (History of Lahore), is also inside Bhaati gate and that is why that part of Bhaati is called Judge Bazaar. The press of Sir Shahab Udin was also in this Bazaar. The Muslim League representing newspaper named “Khalid” was also a product of Bhaati. The owner of “Tehzeeb e Niswan” Magazine Syed Mumtaz Ali is also among the big names who lived there, his house was in Koocha Tehseel. Moreover, Molana Hassan Azad (he was the son of Molvi Abdul Baqir, the owner and editor of oldest Urdu daily of Delhi) also lived there for a short span of time. The editor of “Nerang Kheyal” Hakeem Yusuf Hassan lived in the area of Barood Khana. Molana Zafar Ali khan lived in Kucha Sabz peer when he returned from Hyderabad Dakan, and he issued a magazine called “Punjab review” from here. The plays of Agha Hashar and his company been staged at Hari Krishn Theatre for many years. Famous Urdu poet Saghar Sidiqui also spent a great part of his life there. Bhaati has also been home for famous Urdu Fiction writer Ghulam Abbas, Choudhry Barkat Ali, and Nazeer Chaudhry, the editors of literary journals “Adab e Lateef” and “Sawera”, and Muhammad Tufail, the editor of “Naqoosh”.

old architecture

Today things have totally changed, the literary sittings have vanished, and Lahoris are witnessing the death of this chapter of Lahore’s culture. The historical Bazaars and streets are prey of mismanagement and insecurity, as they are being ruined to accommodate the increasing demands of the city. Lahore desperately need an architect who have a vision to keep the real flavour of Lahore alive, else this historical city will not be able to save its historical belongings.

Originally Published in Daily Waqt.

Thanks to Rai M. Azlan for translating it from Urdu to English

Photography by: Afzal Abbas

Friday, August 5, 2011

Scum Express!

A journey by train always fascinates me. I always compare it with the journey of life, as there are a lot of things common between these two journeys.

We have to wait for the right time for the train to arrive, looking for the right place to board it, giving space to our co-travelers, meeting new people, spending time with them and on reaching the destination, saying good bye to them.

During a train journey, one also experiences passing through light and darkness alternatively as we pass through the tunnels and emerge from them. Sometimes a train has to halt in its track and give way to another train coming from opposite direction.

A couple of weeks ago, I was at the Lahore Railway Station waiting to board the train to Rawalpindi. I always travel at night so that I reach Rawalpindi during the early hours and spend more time roaming around the city or simply hang around friends and family during the day.

I was scheduled to catch the Night Coach for this journey but on that day not even a single seat was available in any of the compartments. Luckily or unluckily “Tezgam” Express, which was almost 6 hours late, was also waiting at the same station, A young boy at the ticket counter suggested that I travel by “Tezgam”, as it may have several empty seats available.

I picked up my backpack and entered the Lower AC compartment of “Tezgam”. I asked the Station Master for a ticket, he asked me to simply take a seat and not to worry at all. So I did exactly that.

Eventually, the Train moved slowly out of the station… and so started my journey. Soon I fell asleep at my seat. But as the train reached Gujranwala, the Ticketing Officer woke me up and asked me to move to another compartment. He just guided me to another Business Class section of the train and assured me that I could sleep there, peacefully.

I was travelling without a ticket till that point in time but he didn’t mention anything about it. I was clueless about what’s going to happen next. But I was too tired to care. I locked the door and went back to sleep.

I slept like a log, till the train crossed Jhelum city. Then I was rudely awakened by a loud know on the door. It was the same Ticketing Officer, accompanied by an old man with long white beard, who was the T.T.

Both of them were very courteous and enquired if I had been comfortable so far. Of course I was! This was King’s treatment, so I nodded my head confirming it gladly.

They re-confirmed that I did not have a ticket and having heard my answer; the old T.T took out his ticket-book and started scribbling something on it. And all this while, the Ticketing Officer kept on assuring me that I didn’t need to worry, it was a very luxurious compartment and its fair was 1300 PKR.

The old man finished his scribbling and handed over the ticket slip to me demanding I pay 500 PKR upfront.

I didn’t even bother to look at the slip and quietly handed over the amount. Both wished me a safe journey and left.

However, I continued to wonder about this strange exchange. The fair of Lahore to Rawalpindi in Lower Ac is more than 500 PKR. Why were they so kind to me? Why did they give me a berth in Business Class for just 500 PKR?

Suddenly, I remembered the slip they had given me. I took it out and studied it carefully now. I was shocked to find that amount mentioned was towards traveling fair from Jhelum to Rawalpindi in Economy Class, and the figure was 130 PKR!

The unholy nexus between the officials and the scam racket became crystal clear to me.

I felt like a culprit to have been a party to it and was overcome with a nauseating feeling of remorse and guilt.

I reached Rawalpindi next day early in the morning, and rested for a while, re-running the whole set of events of last night, in my head. While sipping tea at a hotel near the station and browsing through the local newspaper an article immediately caught my attention. The heading read “Railways left with two-day fuel”. It also reported that the Railways Minister Bashir Balour had stated that The PR had been finding it difficult to pay salaries to its staff and pension to its retired employees, due to a severe financial crunch.

I almost choked on my tea!

Even to this day, I am still trying to figure out the connection between this piece of news and the incident that happened during that fateful journey.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Lahore: Swinging High Above The Sky

Photo Credits: Shiraz Hassan

Monday, July 25, 2011

Living in the Darkness!

“Don’t light the match” I said.
I was holding his hand and moving forward in utter darkness, which was all around, the licking our bodies, scratching our faces with its jaws.
“Where are we?” he asked
“I don’t know” I replied
“It’s all stinking damp and dark, it must be The Gutter”
“Oh yes! I remember I fell into The Gutter” I said as I recalled from some faraway memory.
“How did you fall in The Gutter” he asked
“I don’t know, and I don’t remember for how long I’ve been here, but how did you land up here?” said I.
“I also fell down. I think you fell before I did, and trying to help you I got dragged in too, or I fell first and you tried to help me and in the end we ended up here!” said he.

Holding hands, we inched ahead, all the while feeling the slimy dampness of water somewhere around our feet.

“Can you hear the traffic?” he asked.
“Yes! We are somewhere under the main road” I said
“Then there must be an open manhole nearby, so let’s get out of here, or at least see the sky” He murmured

“Oh!” he jumped.

“What happened?”, I asked. He said he felt something, something touched his legs. He lit a match. A spark of flame lit up our faces.

“Here it is” he pointed at something. We took a closer look at it,
“A dead body… an infant” I sighed “May be somebody tried to hide their sins”
“Or may be his mother gave birth, here, in this Gutter, is that possible?” he added
“May be” I said and we moved further on into the darkness.

We were trapped in an underground Gutter, a never-ending damp tunnel and were trying to get out of this place. We desperately looked out for an opening from where we could escape.

The match-box was also getting damp with a few more matchsticks to go. We didn’t want to lose those tiny sticks. Our last flickers of an inevitably dying hope. With the dying flame of each matchstick, died our last rays of hope.

The situation was getting bad to worse. The fear of losing life was gripping our very souls. Hope was slipping away, the way a handful of sand eventually escapes a closed fist. Would we ever see the light of a day again? Would we ever see the bright sun again? It was all gloomy down here. We were kissing our own breaths to feel the life, to believe we were still alive.

Thus we kept on creeping slowly into a dark nothingness.

“Did you hear that?” he said
“Noise?” we could hear some voices – voices of children. A mix of shouting and crying. We could hear the sound of water splashing as we felt they were running towards us.
“What are these children doing here?”
“Light the match” I told him.
As he lit the match we saw a group of more than a dozen children, almost running past us.

“Hey! Listen” I yelled at one of those boys, who seemed to be around ten or twelve.
He stopped and looked at us with a wide smile spread across his face, ear to ear.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him
“We live here.” He replied innocently
“Here? You were born here?” I was extremely confused now
“Yes! All of us were born at this place in Rubbers” , he confused me even more.
“In the Rubber?” I repeated his words
“Yes! Our parents threw us here, wrapped in Rubbers” saying this, he ran away to join his group…

“Where was I born?” I tried to recall. At a hospital or at home … or …. or I couldn’t remember more than that or I didn’t want to think any more about it.

“Is it possible that we were also born here” His words shocked me.
“No… No..!!” There was a confession hidden in my quick denial.

Something cracked under my feet. We lit a match-stick, again, only to see some disposed-off bones.

Scary!

“Who are these people?” Who knows who they were?
“Look! They are all gagged with duct tape ” I said, as I saw each of them held a pen tightly between their dead fingers.

Somebody sealed their lips before killing them or they died their own death by chocking themselves up.

“Poor folks” He murmured.

These bodies made scared us even more

“Can we ever see light again?” he asked vaguely.
“I hope” I replied, but I knew, living in this darkness, forever, was our final destiny.

As we moved ahead, may be a few feet, we heard screams, harsh and loud. It sounded as if someone was being beaten up, brutally or as if someone was being sliced into pieces! The dirty water at our feet felt warm and smelled nauseatingly salty. As we stared down, we saw, we stood, ankle deep in thick blood. There was no air to breathe in either.

We felt suffocated.

Those voices tore into our ears and ripped apart our souls!!

I asked him to light the match.

But there was no light.

He was scratching a match-stick against the match-box, but was unable to strike a light.

The Match-Box was wet now and the other Match-sticks were all broken into pieces.

He stood there, trying again and again, looking almost insane, but without any success.

“That was the last stick” he said, finally, giving up.

I took the match-stick from his fingers and kept it back into my pocket!

Thinking… It might be our last ray of hope.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Forgotten Heritage of Rawalpindi

Rawalpindi is one of the most important cities of Pakistan. Before the partition of India, there were many Hindu and Sikh families living here. Several areas of Rawalpindi have Hindu/Sikh names like Amarpura, Angatpura, Krishanpura, Akaal-garh, Mohanpura, Bagh Sardaraan.

I have posted pictures of a few old and ruined Hindu and Sikh architectures. However, I have just been able to take the pictures. Most of these temples and gurudwaras are in very bad conditions. There is not much information available about them either..I have indicated the locations of these temples and gurudwaras.If you have any information regarding these heritage buildings, please let me know.

Photo Credits: Shiraz Hassan