So proud of my little trees 🥭

Impressions of Mumbai

Mumbai is very green, full of ancient banyan trees. It's tropical and rains all the time (in the rainy season, yes, that's what I meant). I am struck by how much I am reminded of Monrovia. It's often said that Karachi is like Bombay and, Delhi like Lahore. I am neither a Lahori or a Karachiite and, have only visited the two as a tourist but can safely say Karachi isn't much like Bombay.

Mumbai is utterly green and, in the rainy season, everything is drenched in water. The light is that muted white pale light of the monsoon season. I love this city, by the sea.

Karachi is not as lush or green like Mumbai in the rain, it's quite arid and, from all that I read, green spaces are shrinking in Karachi. 

As for infrastructure and scale, Mumbai is a real city that has mass transit, cafés, bars, cinema, theatre, museums and, the big city feel.

And, Gawd, was it good to get a drink. I had Indian red wine at house parties and, it was really good. I had cocktails at restaurants. What a delight it is to be able to enjoy a drink with your lunch in the afternoon!

I am absolutely enjoying the Metro and "local trains." Karachi like all big cities in Pakistani cities doesn't have a modern subway system and neither is it a walking city.

Apartments are small and compact. I enjoyed getting a sense of life in an apartment building, as old as the one where we stayed, where Haresh had grown up as a kid. The building (Avinash) has an elevator with 2 gates and, there are 14 or 15 floors. To see such an old-style lift moving up and down, operated by a watchman in a cap and uniform, took me back to another time, another world. I started thinking of contraptions and, nuts and bolts. How mechanical.

There are shops in the same apartment complex - a laundry, a grocery shop, even a salon. Auto rickshaws stop right at the gate and, there are shops and restaurants all in walking distance, one after another. We bought some fruit and Haresh asked the fruitwallah to deliver it to the apartment. All he had to do was mention the name of the building and apartment number. How convenient.

Haresh's childhood friends were still living in the same apartments, ones in which they had grown up with their parents. We visited a few , including one who was staying at one of the top floors. My head started spinning at the eagle-eye view of the city, breezy but too high for my vertigo.

I am quite intrigued at how such small space is utilised in a small flat : compact kitchens, bedrooms and cupboards. Owners have covered up the balconies to extend their rooms. Laundry is hung right outside the window on clothes railings - I keep wondering how clothes must sometimes fly away.

Haresh was constantly becoming nostalgic:

"We once dared each other to make 100 rounds of the building and, I won."
"I used to race against the lift and, always won."
"That man once threatened to beat my friend for being rude but he couldn't catch up with my friend who ran away."

A friend of Haresh's joked about a Parsi lady who would be constantly spying on the security guards. Apparently, she was doing a better job in looking out for the building society. However, she was also too fussy and, was annoyingly too strict. Haresh, of course, said she was very sweet and always liked meeting Haresh.

When leaving or entering the building, we would constantly run into someone or the other Haresh knew, especially kids of friends. "Look how much you've grown."

For someone like me, the idea that people live all their lives in one home and even, their children choose to stay in the same apartment or building is quite novel. My childhood was all over the world so I can't imagine a life that is physically static.

Apparently this apartment block will be knocked down to build a more modern one.

We were invited to dinner parties at friends' in other parts of town with newer apartment buildings with slightly bigger apartments. But for sure, everyone lives in apartment buildings.

Only movie stars live in bungalows and, fans come from all over to pay homage to the house Amitabh Bachan lives in (apparently, he moved out of his home after Abishek Bachan got married), in Juhu. Shah Rukh Khan's house is called Mannat and, is in Bandra. We passed by both of these. Haresh pointed out the apartment building Lata Mangeshkar lives in. I wondered why only male movie stars' homes were famous.

When I thought of Lata Mangeshkar, the nightingale of Hindi films, living a quiet life in an apartment tin Mumbai, I also thought of Annapurna Devi, the wife of Ravi Shankar who had apparently spent all her life in her Bombay flat. Somehow, reading an article about the most accomplished musician surfaced to my mind.

But that's not all. Visiting Mumbai for the first time is staggering because it is the city of Hindi cinema and, what a treat to be in the city of dreams.

And, speaking of films, I felt like all the movies and songs I ever watched were being evoked all over the place. Especially along the curves of Marine Drive and Bandstand, along the sea.

Cities by the ocean seem to be more cosmopolitan, outward looking and, have that beachy and breezy vibe. You can always look out to the sea.

I had a sense that Bombay would be very very overwhelming, teeming with people on the street, everywhere. Haresh seemed so stressed when taking the train into town, and kept warning me about the sea of people on the local trains. For sure, a few times, one was shoved and pushed as people boarded the train or were trying to get off. But walking in town or even on the train stations, I didn't feel overwhelmed. Of course, I did not experience peak hour rush or really crowded areas but neither did I feel a sense of alienation or particularly rude behaviour on the street. I remember feeling very fed up of New York and how big it was but that was because we were trying to navigate the city, we had the stroller and, New York (despite always feeling so excited about seeing it) felt hostile.

However, Bombay is a metropolis in the classic sense: it is big, commutes from one end of town to another are very long and tiring, and, people are busy. I did not get disappointed or frustrated with any aspect of the big city because as a Pakistani, it is a sheer treat to be able to experience Bombay. I was oblivious to garbage (and one could see garbage or trashed mangroves or shanty towns along the local train tracks). I was taking it all in, enjoying every second.

Visiting India as a Pakistani

Visiting India as a Pakistani is full of burdens and, requires a responsible mindset. As overjoyed as I am to be able to finally visit India, to have finally crossed that treacherous border for while millions and millions died and, so many women were raped and humiliated, I am constantly weighed down by anxiety and thoughts of my limited stay here, confined to a city - specific visa that expires soon. I have seen faces wither or get confused when I mention to folks that I am visiting from Pakistan. I sometimes feel as if I am coming from a very far-off country that people have a very obscure or terrible sense of. Even so-called knowledgeable people have such a vague sense of Pakistan, almost like meeting a unread and untraveled American or European that we colonised people like to poke fun at self-righteously. 

"I better not start any political conversations about Modi Ji or Kashmir" I think to myself, reminding myself to present a good-mannered version of myself! The responsibility! 

My visa was finally awarded after 2 rejections on a medical basis rather than for Tourist or Family Visit, which is tinged with a frustrated sadness. Also, it's a particularly terrible year for Pakistani-Indian relations which have always swung between Bad to Terrible or No Hope For Any Normal Relations and so on. 

I know that family separated by Partition still visit each other, maybe this accounts for a couple thousand people. I know India grants medical visas to Pakistanis, probably mostly poor ones because the rich folks want to get advanced medical treatment in UK or the US. Pakistan regularly grants Sikhs visa to visit holy sites. But beyond that, there's not much flow of people and, after 72 years of Partition, Pakistanis and Indians simply do not know each other. We routinely also stop trade of onions and tomatoes, is it?  It's a bloody colonial shame. 

I think it is the height of irony that Pakistan and India literally only know each other as enemies while the British are not even slightly frowned upon. In fact, we regularly buy our weapons from the British so we can bomb and obliterate each other. Who has become the Enemy and why? 

History's burdens are very heavy. 

Crossing the Border into India and Amritsar

Even while thinking all these anti-colonial thoughts I crossed the border with Kavita on a very hot  desi September with bubbling excitement. We had finally made it to India and, were going to meet Haresh in Amritsar later in the day. 

Huge flags of Pakistan and India are visible quite a ways off as you approach Wagah. A very rackety and strange little train car (the one at amusement parks) picks you up on the Pakistani side and, you go through checks, immigration and customs before crossing a huge gate into the Indian side. A trolley is given to you on the Indian side for your bags. The Pakistani baggage handlers changed some Pak Rupees into Indian ones.  I crossed the border at around 3 PM (the border closes at 3:30 PM) and, crowds and crowds were filling up the stadium on the Indian side for the boot-kicking border ceremony. Kavita and I piled into a cool bus (much better than that rackety car) which took us to the Indian Immigration and Customs where in hardly a few minutes I was done with all formalities. Exchanges with officials were pleasant on both sides. 

It's a haunted border - not only haunted by the legacy of the Partition but also by how a bare trickle of people cross it every day.  The border is a testament to what a success colonialism and nationalism are in terms of dividing people and, how there is no desire by the masses to overcome this cruel legacy.

But enough of these depressing thoughts! So what if 

On and on they grow

Kavita is too excited to see her father in India

We are soon going to be meeting Haresh in India and Kavita made her father such a cute card. 

Mango seed project 🥭

I went to some lectures this weekend, what about you?

Faith and Feminism

WDF organised a Study Circle this Saturday on Faith and Feminism. It was led by Afyia Zia who specially flew in from Karachi to lead the Circle. I was also lucky enough to hear her speak at the Breaking Bad panel at the Jinnah Institute Ideas Conclave and, I was very impressed to her speak so clearly (and kick ass). 

Afiya spoke about the dearth of Pakistani scholarship on women's movements and class. She even explained that her supervisor would not allow her to say class movements because she couldn't rely on any other work to prove that movements were working class movements. She had to refer to the movements as women's movements. It is a bit shocking that in a country with such severe inequality, there is so little academic work on class. She also said that there is very little scholarship being produced by feminists. 

This statement struck me. For some time I've been thinking about how to think about a feminist movement here in Pakistan. How intellectual does it have to be, I've been asking myself, after attending so many Study Circles and lectures, organised by WDFP and AWP. 

In some respects my question has been answered: without a solid intellectual foundation and framework, a solid feminist movement might not address all the issues, structures, and cases that affect women. Without a foundation, a feminist movement may not be able formulate broad questions and arguments.

So, are you ready to toil your mind and get a Phd? Who's first? 

Afiya went on to explain the context in which she produced Faith and Feminism. This was the 9-11 era and, there was a lot of work on madrassa reforms, Islam, and jihad. Women only had an identity as Muslim women. What was missing in this time's scholarship? Scholars were writing in a post secularism / post secular state context. 'Women had agency and were not docile' was being argued. There was no talk about resisting the state or class. Afiya noted that there were movements and shifts that did not fall into the 'Muslim women have agency and are not resisting the state' :

1. Lady Healthcare Workers protesting for minimum wage and regularising their contracts
2. Women Councillors coming up
3. Okara Peasant Movement

Saba Mehmood was one scholar she mentioned whose work focused on Muslim women's agency. (I believe I have read an article about her last year, almost all the "intellectual" articles I read on my Facebook Newsfeed come up from Chapati Mystery. I urge you to subscribe to it, too.)

Afiya said the backlash to her book interestingly came mainly from Punjab and, from LUMS particularly. She said there was criticism on her use of 'binaries.'

In the Answer and Question session, the interesting points she made were :

1) Social media has helped activism, identify harassers or rapists or murderers, aided the MeToo movement, but can never replace activism. We have to understand the role of Big Tech and Social Media in propagating right wing agendas. Standing in the street with placards, protesting against abuse and injustice, and meeting fellow women cannot replace online pontification. She said that you can be protesting and meeting /engaging with fellow women and then, post about it but all your activism can't exist online, in a vacuum, only in virtual reality. She also said that many young feminists come to her and, say they have critiqued her work on Twitter which she finds amusing.

(To which I ask, can all feminist activists come out on the street? Can all of them leave their homes? And, can we really dismiss online activism with how fast technology is evolving and, merging with media, information, data, communication, and day to day movement? Perhaps there needs to be an exploration of the relationship between activism and social media. The medium itself is neither good nor bad and, now that it is an inherent part of our day to day lives, we will need to use it as a technology for good. Apparently TV was going to destroy society and human relations when it first came into our lives but we now miss the good old days when it was the only idiot box around.)

2) There is no feminist work on class theory. Feminists have to reclaim the class question.

3) In response to a man's question on how to be an ally and speak without silencing women, she said it is about one's political journey and, only he himself can address that.

(It is amusing that men are so concerned and confused. They just don't know what to do with themselves.)

AWP One-Day Political School 

There were 3 sessions in this fantastic event organised by AWP: i) The Political Party In the Digital Era ii) Feminism and Socialist Politics iii) Political Economy and Austerity.

I managed to attend Feminist and Socialist Politics by Ali Amirali and half of Political Economy and Austerity by  Aasim Sajjad Akhtar.

I really enjoyed Alia's lecture because it drove home some ideas that I have not clearly understood before. I also love hearing her speak in Urdu. I'm in awe of her and all the other leaders of AWP and WDF for their courage and, boldness.  There are many, many words which I don't understand (a friend and I who both have not studied in Pakistan were sitting close to each other and, kept trying to ask neighbours what certain words meant. For example jadeed is modern. It's a curse to not know your own country's official language. I feel like a colonial monkey, sometimes. Seriously.)

I had coffee with a friend I made at WDF before Saturday's Study Circle who said she really enjoys the intellectual stimulation and, also introduces her to concepts and ideas, helps her to identify those concepts and ideas and language which she 'feels' or 'thinks' about.

I really enjoyed learning socialism's link with feminism when thinking about the parallels of exploitation in the workplace and the home. Power dynamics, labour, hierarchy and even production can be analysed at home. If there is a factory boss, there is a male head of the household. If mode of production is being controlled and owned and profited by someone, a woman's labour, body and, even children are owned by the head of the house. A woman is literally used as a baby making machine. If capitalism dehumanises people and, takes away their self worth so does patriarchy in how it relegates a woman to the domestic space, doesn't even acknowledge her emotional, biological and physical labour. If factory workers are exploited, so our women. I haven't thought about the domestic politics in this way so it was really nice to think about it like this - a nice conceptual parallel between the factory and the house.

I also liked the unpackaging of "khandan" into "khan" and "dan." And, how family originates from a Latin word referencing a landowner. Marriage was only allowed for those men who could own land and, women and children were part of their property.

I was intrigued to hear Alia remark that she found feminism after the fact i.e. after becoming a political worker.

In the Answer / Question session, I asked a follow up question on the 'masculine anxiety' within leftist groups and, why the previous WDF circle did not male attendees to talk and, if this were radical feminism and if men should start having their own study circles. Alia had explained that even male members of leftist parties felt a certain discomfort or even pain at losing their male dominance or privilege and, it was better to express this rather than be quiet. She said that we have to be empathetic to the shattering of this identity.  She further explained that the Me Too movement was good but had a retributive tone to it which she did not agree with. I was a bit confused with these explanations because MeToo is not a retributive movement but one that gives a voice to all those who have faced sexual harassment and abuse. Yes, it may end up shaming and even lead to criminal prosecution but (if men have any shame or the law works in favour of the one raising her voice) but what is retributive about seeking justice?

I asked "If feminism is not retributive and we have to be empathetic to men, even those in leftist circles, and, with how most women privately complain they can't find a woke man, what is your advice to women in how to think about their movement?" What I should have added to that was "Do you think the work of the feminist movement is to transform the male mind that is so seeped into male male privilege?"

But if I had to say my question all over again, I would have phrased it like this:

"But if feminism isn't retributive and, we are here to be empathetic to the shattering of the male privilege [although wouldn't it make a great Tarantino film on the lines of Django and Inglorious Basterds where he explores revenge fantasies - pause for laughs], then what exactly is feminism about? How important is is to give weight to the idea of the male privilege being shattered and, the pain/grief that might come out of that? Is that a distraction? Why can't we focus our lectures/analysis more on why there is still so much sexism in the Left? Why can't we focus on the failure of the Left to bring feminism to the centre of its ethos? And, lastly, if we keep banging on about how much patriarchy has not only taken away men's humanity and vulnerability, we might end up excusing men and forgiving them too easily. Let's not forget what happened in South Africa - black people forgave white people because apparently white people too had suffered from apartheid's ideological brainwashing and, what they end up with? Nothing. They got political power but economic power stayed with white people. I am merely using this as a convenient broad analogy and, please excuse me because apartheid and, the current situation in South Africa is complex and deserves more discussion. So, yes, we need to learn about how feminism can aid our efforts to build socialist politics but not without bringing light to the Left's failure in the first place." 

My little mango tree 🥭

Just look at the sprouting seed! And, look at how the mango seed is now green, kind of looking like a whale breaching in the ocean. The seed was white when we opened it but after planting it in soil, it's green. Mind blowing. 

And the melon seeds are also sprouting. 

Balcony garden

I can't believe that something is sprouting out from the compost. 

Look at how fast the mango seeds are sprouting and growing tall. 

And, here's my balcony garden!

Lookit : my little mango tree 🥭

چودہ August evening walk

What does Independence Day mean for the average Pakistani ? I think the significance of this day is largely translated into buying flags, driving around and waving them, yelling "Pakistan", and, beating your chest loudly about Kashmir. The TV transmissions today showed the typical official functions: stages full of children singing 'milli naghme' dressed in white and green, speeches about the martyrs in Kashmir and, the odd teleplay about a grandma getting misty about the day the Pakistan dream was realised. These telefilms always seem to show women sewing the national flag. 

When India removed Jammu and Kashmir's special status and revoked Article 370 last week, Pakistan declared it would mark its Independence Day in solidarity with Kashmiris in Indian-Occupied Kashmir. So, for days on end, all your hear is Pakistan state's passionate promises and speeches on how it will stand up for democracy, freedom and so on. I believe Imran Khan has even said that although it doesn't want war, it will fight back with so much power that the whole world will be witness to it. 

I saw a clip today where a reporter was interviewing folks enjoying Independence Day on Karachi's beach. He asked a fellow whether he was thinking about Kashmir while celebrating "Jashne Azadi." The guy, prepped for his 15 minutes of fame, answered the pointed question as properly as possible. In another clip, a family was being interviewed in 'Jinnah Bagh' in Lahore. The lower-middle-class children were wearing some cheap clothes with Pakistani flags and, parents were telling the reporter they were going to head over to Minar-e-Pakistan. The children were asked to sing a "milli naghma" and they sang Vital Signs' "Dil Dil Pakistan." 

Thinking about all this, I went about for my evening walk. I saw a few houses decorated with the Pakistani flag. Motorbikes and cars whizzed by, adorned with flags. 

For days now, you can buy Pakistani flags of all sizes and, cheap plastic horns and, very very cheap  green clothes. I even noticed that bakeries were selling Independence Day cakes. That a national or religious sentiment can be commodified makes its enforced celebration even more artificial and fake. 

When pollution and environmental degradation is at crisis-levels, consuming cheap plastic goods to celebrate a highly artificial construct seems like an insult on injury. 

Moreover, the idea that Pakistanis have been indoctrinated to beat their chests about the occupation of Kashmir but not taught about Pakistani state atrocities against peoples living within its own borders makes nationalism even more tragic. 

What makes things really frustrating is that if you criticise the Indian state, you thought of as an enemy of country by the Average Joe. In Pakistan, criticising the Army or the Pakistani state means you are an absolute ghaddar. How do you convey the idea and sentiment that you don't stand for any modern state and it's artificial border? 

What do you think about when you walk? It drizzled all day so the weather was cool but incredibly humid. I've started noticing snails on my walks, especially after it rains. It looks like they were devouring a fellow snail whose shell had been crushed. What do you think? 

Victory: my mango seeds have sprouted 🥭

Walking in monsoon season

It's been raining heavily (nothing like the dazzling downpour of Monrovia) since yesterday. Kavita and I put on our walking clothes and set off for an afternoon walk, rather than wait for the evening. So, we set off at about 3:30 PM just as it had stopped finally raining. It was still cloudy.

We cut some wild flowers and, some dangling bougainvillea off peoples' perimeter walls. Kavita said let's cut the roses in the forest. The roses were in front of the huge cake-house and, I explained to Kavita we couldn't cut those roses as they belonged to that house. There are many trees on that part of the street and, last time she said it had a 'foresty' feel to it. 

I saw a dead bird on the footpath and, pointed at it. 

"Who would kill a bird? This is so sad." 

Kavita was extremely shocked and sad. 

"Maybe someone who hits and screams at their mother."

Kavita is very cranky sometimes because of the medicines she's on and, when we have tickle fights, she gets extremely upset if she loses. So, one has to be careful as not to ignite her cute little temper. 

"Are you calling me a murderer?" Kavita screamed in a very shrill voice. She's very shrill these days. And, she doesn't get dark humour either. After this sense of injustice, she descended into tears. I laughed a little and, she cried more. At the top of her voice. "Say sorry!" she screamed. I hugged her and, said sorry and, then had to try very hard not to laugh. 

A little while later, she said she wanted to become happy again and, started chatting about how much she was enjoying the walk. There were snails everywhere and, I said, don't step on snails and murder any. Again, more tears. Then, she forgave me and, we enjoyed cutting flowers and, collecting them in my bag. 

Later, she saw a bee happily buzzing around the lush, intensely fragrant flowers of the Rangoon Creeper (or Madhumati in Hindi). She said she had never seen a bee taking pollen from a flower and, she said this was the "best adventuring walk ever".

There's a stretch of the walk that goes by the park. It's parallel to the service road parallel to the one we live on. It's overgrown with bush, grass, mud, and also stinks. There is also a beautiful trash dumpster overflowing with garbage.

I'm pretty sure we saw 2 snails devouring an earthworm. It was fascinating. I even managed to get a closeup 'Animal Planet' picture of this vicious slaughter. Shortly afterwards, though, Kavita started screaming and, said there was something squishy and slimy in her rain boot. She became frantic! We stopped and, she flung her boot off and, out came a snail. She didn't realise that whatever it was out and, she kept screaming "Get it off, get it off!" I was amused and, laughed, which of course did not help. I managed to show her the poor dead snail and, then Kavita put her boot back on. She meekly said she killed the snail "by accident."

We enjoyed rest of our afternoon stroll. What a lush green neighbourhood. It was very humid, though, and we were drenched in sweat. We stopped at the park and then went home.

I love seeing purple squashed jamun everywhere on the foot path. I showed Kavita and, she exclaimed "This is the first time I've seen a fruit tree!"