Remembering Rahimdad — the legendary potter of Saidpur
Rahimdad, the old potter of Saidpur village, was a familiar face in the capital city for the past decades.
For those of us who have lived in Islamabad for the past three decades and more, Rahimdad, the old potter of Saidpur village, was a familiar face. One would see him at every heritage festival, teaching children how to make a pot from a lump of clay. Rahimdad, or Qeema chacha, has special significance for me, because it is almost 32 years since my mother took me to Saidpur as a child to learn pottery from him.
Rahimdad installed a traditional wooden wheel on our back lawn so that I could practice my hobby. Every weekend on our way to the Margallah hills for a hike along with my siblings and cousins, we would stop at his shop, which was located by the sparkling freshwater stream. His wife would make us ‘doodh pati’, which we relished.
Over the years, Saidpur has changed from a quaint village to a tourist spot that embodies some of the worst aspects of the unsustainable consumer demand-led economic model currently in vogue. The irony of the Rs400 million project is that the benefits have all accrued to the city’s affluent residents. The urgent needs of the villagers,clean water, efficient waste disposal, and medical and health facilities, remain unaddressed.
Islamabad experienced a so called ‘development’ juggernaut in the Musharraf era, when the already developed sectors experienced multiple ‘beautification projects’. Seeing how everything was changing in Islamabad and filled with nostalgia for my childhood in serene Islamabad, I began to revisit the Saidpur potters. Following in the footsteps of their forefathers, only Rahimdad and Niaz Mohammed still worked as potters. They responded positively to my suggestion that they revived some of the styles of pottery I remembered as a teenager. This included the gharoli, a small water pitcher traditionally used to give the bridegroom a bath on the eve of marriage. The gharolis made by Rahimdad and Niaz Mohammed faithfully followed the traditional design; they were decorated with clay flowers and embellished with mirror work and hanging clay appendages. Pottery traditions were an important part of the cultural heritage of Saidpur.
Instead of protecting Saidpur’s cultural heritage and solving real problems such as the appalling lack of sewage and waste disposal systems, the aim of the beautification project has been to give it a “new look”. History and cultural integrity notwithstanding, Saidpur had to be remodelled on the pattern of Provencal villages in southern France. Thanks to pressure from the media, the crass decision to open a restaurant ‘inside’ the historical Hindu temple was reversed; unfortunately, the area around the temple has not been spared by restaurant mania.
Saidpur Tourist Village, with its boutiques, cafes and ice cream parlours, is now a popular haunt for the “social elite”. Villagers gawp at those who can afford the paninis and lattes. The predominantly spiritual ambience of the temple, the Zinda Pir and Mai Ji’s shrines and mosque has vanished. This raises the question of why the most privileged of the capital’s citizens lack the sophistication to appreciate the wealth of culture that Saidpur once represented. The founder of Pakistan, Mohammad Ali Jinnah, decreed freedom of worship to all citizens. How effectively this spirit of tolerance has been erased from our society!
For me, Saidpur symbolises the ‘inferiority complex’ of many Pakistanis whose superficial way of thinking prioritises “development” at the expense of cultural heritage. It is a failure of the myopic leadership, which attaches importance to the cosmetic approach, that the stream — once an outstanding feature of the village centre — remains clogged with filth and sewage.
The identity of Saidpur for me was always synonymous with Rahimdad and his craft. It was in May 2011 that I saw him for the last time. The CDA had made him sit by the road side, selling his wares as a tourist attraction. Briefly, a workshop was provided to him by the CDA in 2008, before it was taken from him by influential businesswomen with good connections.
In July 2011, he lost his battle with hepatitis C and died quietly. Today, his sons are selling pottery at the same place, just as their father did. But for me, a part of the soul of Saidpur died with him. Rahimdad’s legacy should stay alive, which is only possible when his children find pride and income in the craft of their forefathers. It is about time Lok Virsa, and all those who pose as the promoters of arts and crafts to join hands with the CDA and make sure that the legacy of the pottery traditions in Saidpur do not die out completely.
May Rahimdad rest in peace!
The writer is an artist and author of the book ‘Glimpses into Islamabad’s Soul’
funkor.childart@gmail.com
Published in The Express Tribune, January 10th, 2012.