The peripheries

Away from the chaos of metropolises and the filth and degradation of rural towns; on the peripheries, lie regions untouched by the kind of haphazard ‘development’ that takes place in underdeveloped, corrupt societies. Distant and remote, these regions are commercially unimportant – technically, they do not exist. Not even on Google maps. They are the backwaters. The paradox is that in Pakistan, the more beautiful and enchanting a region, the more dangerous and unstable it is. Once known as the lawless Upper Sindh Frontier, Jacobabad district has vast areas that are beyond the realm of civilisation.

Dodapur village, in Garhi Khairo taluka, lies near the Balochistan border. Seven miles north, passes the Begari Canal (built by the Daudpotas and later rehabilitated by John Jacob). The area is somewhat of a wilderness where a variety of birds, including migratory ones, can be heard and seen early in the morning and late in the afternoon. The beauty of the area is not obvious or grand; but those who appreciate the details of nature will see its allure. The irony is that these surroundings aren’t necessarily ‘natural’. Before John Jacob renovated the Begari Canal, the entire region was a desert. It was only later that the dunes ceased to exist and irrigation made the land saline. Yet still, there is something about the shrubs, plants and trees that appears different from other areas. It is as if they are under the sway of lawlessness, like the unkempt bushy moustaches of menfolk in the area. Here, one sees small settlements of mud and straw huts in fields.

They usually belong to the same family, or to the same tribe, who farm a specific portion of land. Upon meeting, they appear docile and friendly. Distant relatives and tribesfolk around these parts all look noticeably similar to one another. This is because there is frequent inter-marriage amongst them. Their warmth comes across in their hospitality. Yet in this same enchanting and hospitable wilderness, there are others driven by a volatile temperament. An experienced person once told me that Upper Sindh needed a strong and ruthless administrator as people there were far more unruly than in other parts of the province. The close proximity to the tribal belt reflects in the behaviour of some of them and the swiftness with which they draw the weapon. In winter months, the farmers pile the harvest in the deras, where it is weighed. Late afternoon brings with it an orange hue and fadedness as a blanket of fog slowly descends alongside a choir of jackals’ howls. The drawings in primary-level Sindhi textbooks depict soft hills in the rural scene. But you never see these in real life.

Published in The Express Tribune, September 7^th,  2015.