Desperately seeking Faiz
There were no boards or volunteers to guide visitors to the main grounds; Faiz was found only on banners and posters.
KARACHI:
The road to Jashn-e-Faiz was unwelcoming. The way to the CDGK Sports Complex was blocked by barricades from where a bus took visitors half way to the main gate. This came as no surprise, however, in this city of millions where eight people’s names were added to the growing list of target killing victims just a night before. To top it off, Faiz Ahmed Faiz was hard to find.
In between stalls on organic food, art work, a local band and a burger van, Faiz was found only on banners and posters.
There were no boards or volunteers to guide visitors to the main grounds, and people asked for friends and familiar faces for directions. After about half an hour of looking for a session on flood victim rehabilitation, I discovered that the schedule given at the entrance and on the Citizens for Democracy website was incorrect. The lecture planned for 1 pm started at 11 am instead.
Near the tennis courts - Pindal One - where the session on flood victims was held, a worried Tasneem Siddiqui was walking around. His daughter asked me if I was one of the organisers; they couldn’t seem to find anyone either. The writer had to speak on urbanisation, but he doesn’t know where to go.
A journalist from a television channel eagerly asked, “Do you have notes? I have the wrong schedule and missed the event.” It was good to know that I was not alone. After buying a soft drink for Rs50, another journalist, just as disappointed by the event, said in a scathing tone, “They are just making money with Faiz’s name.” But amid all the chaos and disappointments, there was something there that was special. In between banners on land reforms, and slogans that said “The killing of one is the killing of humanity,” there was freedom of speech - a right to be much treasured in this country.
As I walked out, a small procession from a communist party walked by chanting “Mullah gardi kay peechay wardi hai.” My heart swelled.
View slideshow here.
The road to Jashn-e-Faiz was unwelcoming. The way to the CDGK Sports Complex was blocked by barricades from where a bus took visitors half way to the main gate. This came as no surprise, however, in this city of millions where eight people’s names were added to the growing list of target killing victims just a night before. To top it off, Faiz Ahmed Faiz was hard to find.
In between stalls on organic food, art work, a local band and a burger van, Faiz was found only on banners and posters.
There were no boards or volunteers to guide visitors to the main grounds, and people asked for friends and familiar faces for directions. After about half an hour of looking for a session on flood victim rehabilitation, I discovered that the schedule given at the entrance and on the Citizens for Democracy website was incorrect. The lecture planned for 1 pm started at 11 am instead.
Near the tennis courts - Pindal One - where the session on flood victims was held, a worried Tasneem Siddiqui was walking around. His daughter asked me if I was one of the organisers; they couldn’t seem to find anyone either. The writer had to speak on urbanisation, but he doesn’t know where to go.
A journalist from a television channel eagerly asked, “Do you have notes? I have the wrong schedule and missed the event.” It was good to know that I was not alone. After buying a soft drink for Rs50, another journalist, just as disappointed by the event, said in a scathing tone, “They are just making money with Faiz’s name.” But amid all the chaos and disappointments, there was something there that was special. In between banners on land reforms, and slogans that said “The killing of one is the killing of humanity,” there was freedom of speech - a right to be much treasured in this country.
As I walked out, a small procession from a communist party walked by chanting “Mullah gardi kay peechay wardi hai.” My heart swelled.
View slideshow here.