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The
way we were karachicharacter
hangout Having become famous for it's offbeat events and pleasant space to spend time in otherwise, The Second Floor was born out of many "frustrations and desires," and is successfully achieving the things it set out to do. By Amina Baig A few decades ago, going out for coffee in Karachi didn't just mean sipping on an over-priced cup of the brew and hanging out with friends. Coffee houses multi-tasked as places where intelligent minds and those who were interested in what came out of them met and, well, just talked. In the last decade or
so, the 'coffee shop industry' has boomed in a big way all over The coffee house phenomenon, one that the twenty and thirty something generations of Karachi aren't acquainted with is a highly romanticised one. What better way to share ideas and have illuminating conversations than with a caffeine rush? Coffee shops in Karachi today, though some of the best places to hang out in closely knit cliques are hardly where one can touch base with like-minded strangers. It was a desire to have a space where one and all could have intelligent debate, focus on the arts and culture, as well as have a decent cup of coffee that gave birth to The Second Floor (T2F), the first project of PeaceNiche, a non-profit NGO. T2F is largely a platform for debate and discussion and "the coffee just happened by the way," according to Sabeen Mahmud, Director PeaceNiche and coffee aficionado. One Going back in time The idea for T2F came
together some time in late 2006. Sabeen had been working in This is one of the things that pushed her to take the next step, as she believes that, "messages can be conveyed more clearly if one loosens up and uses what's out there." Initially she considered turning b.i.t.s, the company she runs with Zahir Kidvai into one that would only work with NGOs and hence, indirectly work for a good cause. The company had done a lot of pro bono work for NGOs and the education sector before, as well as being pro-activism, driven by their passion for many causes and beliefs. This didn't really pan out, "I don't think I really tried," says Sabeen. Then came the coffee shop boom in the city. Being an enthusiast herself, Sabeen spent a lot of time at these shops, "and ended up spending a lot of money!" But eventually she noticed the coffee shop scene being taken over "by a certain kind of crowd, which is fine, but I decided that these places aren't for me." "When one goes
out to have a quiet conversation, or just think for a little while, or
read a Having heard so much about the coffee houses in the '70s and 16th century Turkish chai khanas, the idea for a place "where everyone could meet everyone," started developing. Sabeen completely ignored the "target markets and focus groups," concepts and went ahead without a business plan. Was such a place needed? She didn't care. "I wanted such a space!" All the people she spoke to, while felt that such a place was important, many didn't believe that it would necessarily work. However the desire for a small, informal space where various events could be held eventually materialized in the form of T2F. An interactive space "The idea is to ensure interaction between the audience and the speaker," says Sabeen. "It is nothing like those big lecture halls where someone would come and speak and you can't get to them because they are being controlled by someone else." "Its frustrating,
that you can't get close to thinkers. You may have idolized someone all At T2F, "the audience has as much access to the speaker as I do," says Sabeen. The audience is allowed to sit, stand and make place for themselves wherever and debate with speakers and amongst themselves. T2F has played host to a multitude of events over the almost one year since it opened. There have been talks on science, under T2F's science program, Science Ka Adda, readings and signings by authors, poetry readings, jam sessions, political debate – the variety, when listed, is pleasantly dizzying. There is a little something for everyone at T2F. At the Faiz Ahmed Faiz celebration, the oldest member of the audience was 92 and the youngest, 18. While jam sessions mostly attract younger people, other events see people from all age groups in attendance. It is particularly pleasing to realize the impact of this interaction. The younger and older generations in Pakistan, even when not widely divided by years, are often light-years away in terms of ideology. These cracks and fissures have often resulted in one dismissing the other's opinions. At T2F, when both opine on and question a focused discussion, they can perhaps find themselves argue and listen to each other without any dismissal of opinion. But ofcourse, at T2F,
if one wishes to disagree and not listen, one is allowed to. Sabeen This resulted in him and a few other mavericks holding their own discussion right outside the T2F doors. So its not just about debate, but counter-debate too, an interesting concept. Towards the promised civil society! One of the things that make T2F stand out from numerous places is the availability of books, for sale or part of the space's collection. One can plonk down somewhere and read their own book, or one off the shelves, which also hold pamphlets and work done by other NGOs, something that can otherwise only be found in a library and not your favourite bookstore. This explains why Sabeen labels what she calls "the coffee bit", as "insidious." If one was offered to come check an NGO out, she argues, no one would come. "But if I tell you about a place where you can get coffee, books and regular events, your curiosity might be piqued enough to visit at least once and to return once you see that it's a 'different' place." One of the things that is really appealing is the space given to designers and photographers to exhibit their work. Being a graphic designer herself, Sabeen feels graphic designs is "one of the most potent mediums for change," and other designers are not given (or give themselves) enough credit as artists and usually wind up "selling toothpaste." Over the last one year, T2F has hosted graphic design exhibitions, shown photography and even one painting exhibition (which comes somewhere at the bottom rung of the art that is preferably displayed at T2F) by the artist K.B Abro, which visually supported a poetry reading by his wife, Attiya Dawood. "When we talk about developing civil society," says Sabeen, "culture plays a very important role and isn't something that only the rich can and should have access to, in developing the awareness, the skills to understand and question can all be honed by being exposed to these elements." This of course is a service to both struggling, non-traditional artists who will otherwise find showing their work difficult and people who would like to buy art, but can't afford very expensive pieces. The work displayed at T2F is not "exorbitantly priced" according to Sabeen. Tying it all up with technology Being tech-savvy and an advocate of using new media, one of the ways that T2F gained momentum even before it's doors were opened to public was through it's very own blog, where one can literally sense eagerness and enthusiasm building up in people waiting for T2F to finally open up. One can check the T2F website for events and updates and choose to put oneself down on an email list to be informed about upcoming events. The knowledge and comfort with technology also leads to breakthroughs sometimes. At the Faiz event, Indian singer Shubha Mudgal was contacted on Skype and talked to and sang for the audience. But T2F is not just about fun and armchair intellectualism. The discussions thinking have led to some of the people becoming more proactive and a lot of people who have been introduced to each other through the place have become involved together in more meaningful activism, for instance, during the period of emergency in Pakistan. However all patrons of T2F are definitely not activists, as Sabeen herself puts it, "all the people who come into T2F are not involved with activism, some just want a cup of coffee." Catering to a cross-section of society and having succeeded in carving it's niche in a very brief period, though very welcoming, T2F does have some "aadab-e-mehfil" which are posted right outside the door. These include prohibiting guns, cigars and drugs and reserve rights of admission. Hence one can feel relatively safe once inside. Though the PeaceNiche Forum does request for a minimum donation of a mentioned amount at every T2F event, mostly the place will not burn a hole through anyone's wallet. But most events, as one T2F online forum suggests, require one to: "Bring your brain!" city calling When health and traffic collide The various traffic issues that are part of Karachi roads also play a part in impeding healthcare from reaching where it should, when it should. By Mehroz Siraj Sadruddin The traffic situation in Karachi doesn't merely test the patience of commuters, but can often have graver implications. One of these impacts is the indirect affect on citizens' health. Patients, doctors and other paramedical staff find it increasingly difficult to reach the city's various state-owned and private hospitals in time. "Arrival on time
has become a monumental task for medical staff," says Dr Seemi
Jamali, High petrol prices have added to the woes of general public seeking medical treatment. Because of these high prices, says Dr Jamali, "taxis are no longer affordable to the common man." The increasing shortage of ambulances, coupled with this fact, just ensure that patients "find it hard to reach hospitals in time, if at all," according to her. The city's acute traffic problems, coupled with the law and order situation, pose many hurdles for patients who need medical attention. The blasts at Gul Ahmed Chowrangi in Quaidabad in January were one such occasion when patients commuting to hospitals were impeded. "It took patients more than an hour to reach JPMC after the Quaidabad blasts," says Dr Jamali. Physical implications
aside, it has been noted that Karachi's traffic problems have also had a
negative psychological impact on many residents. According to Dr Qaiser
Sajjad of Ashfaq Memorial Hospital, mood swings in people, such as
irritation, hypertension, and short temper, have been seen. He
attributes these two problems to time wasted in traffic hold Karachi's infrastructure problems ensure that in a vast majority of the cases, patients in need of timely treatment and their hopeful attendants just see their own health deteriorate. "Many emergency situations require urgent medical attention which can often not be given because of traffic problems," argues Dr Sajjad. He further adds that, "patients who need dialysis, or suffer from head injuries, respiratory tract obstructions, appendix and intestinal perforation, require urgent medical attention." This attention, he says, is not being administered in the city's hospitals largely because of unavailability of doctors and other paramedical staff on first priority basis. Dr Sajjad tells Kolachi that a doctor's inability to reach the hospitals on time because of heavy traffic strains his relationship with his patients. According to renowned cardiac surgeon, Dr Tajuddin Patel, "10 to 20 per cent deaths of cardiac patients take place because of delays due to traffic and transport problems." He further explains, "25 per cent deaths take place within one hour of the first signs of symptoms." Administering the right kind of treatment and medicines at the right time is essential. The physical condition of heart patients who suffer from myocardial infarction in Karachi often worsens due to two reasons; traffic and the dilapidated state of available ambulances. Dr Patel is critical of hospital staff which manages the ambulances. He said that in the West, treatment of a cardiac patient starts the minute he enters the ambulance on a stretcher. Inmost developed countries, within the ambulance itself, an Electrocardiogram (ECG) is done for the patients and a primary blood test is taken. This ensures that time, which is very essential in such cases, is fully utilised. Talking about the state of ambulances and the services they are equipped with in Karachi, he is of the opinion that "we do not have such trained technical staff and facilities." As identified above, patients suffering from acute or end stage renal failure also require urgent medical attention which is nearly impossible to attain if patients do not have easy access to affordable transport and if they are stuck in massive traffic jams. According to Dr Mohammed Ishaq of the JPMC dialysis unit, many patients simply do not come for follow ups because of the city's prevailing structural problems and the rising costs of health care and transport. Dialysis patients, according to Dr Mohammed Ejaz of SIUT, are always in a delicate situation and their conditions can worsen if urgent treatments are not made available every other day. Dr Sohail Rangwala, a General physician agrees with this point, when he says that "some dialysis cases require urgent treatment, especially when levels of cretinine and urea levels in the blood shoot up." Patients who are so severely affected cannot afford to waste hours in traffic jams, he says. In the case of appendicitis, the appendix has to be removed within two hours, after which it can burst anytime, possibly leading to death. According to Dr Sohail, many cases of appendicitis going from bad to worse when the patient is stuck in a traffic jam, have been known in recent times. Many doctors blame the government, the traffic department and citizens at large, for the monumental problems that patients and paramedical staff of the city's various hospitals face because of which they cannot reach their designated places in time. Dr. Sajjad opines that, "dealing with traffic related problems is the responsibility of the traffic department, government and the people." Refuting most of these claims, Sameer Mustafa, at the traffic police's helpline, 915, tells Kolachi that developmental works in the city are major reasons behind many traffic jams. He further adds that ambulances are never stopped. Additional time is given to traffic from the section from where ambulances are coming. "Information of ambulances that are received at 915, are transmitted to local police officers and their routes are cleared." Medical practitioners also point out certain long term remedial measures that can be taken in order to ease the problems that patients face in their pursuit of urgent medical assistance and of the paramedical staff which cannot perform it's professional duties when needed the most. According to Dr Sohail, emergency lanes and special routes should be devised for ambulances (and the fire brigade). This, according to him, would greatly reduce the time that is taken to reach hospitals. Doctors are also highly optimistic about establishment of medical facilities at town level. One proponent of such ideas is Dr Ejaz. As per his opinions, "small dialysis units should be established at town level. The government should establish dialysis units at all state run hospitals." The Aga Khan University Hospital has started establishing local medical centres at town level and their projects have met with reasonable success. Two such town based facilities are currently operational in the North Nazimabad and Clifton towns. Needless to say, Karachi's traffic mess along with the city's many other socio-economic problems, is largely an outcome of poor urban planning. In order to save lives, fuel and our environment, now is the time that action must be taken by the government and civil society. The way we were Of linguistic roots and word origins By Kaleem Omar Man, it is said, is a creature of habit. That's why people tend to frown upon and suspect anything that is new. When, in 1585, Sir Francis Drake (of the Spanish Armada fame) brought the potato from America to Britain, the people of Elizabethan England shunned the strange tuber. For a long time, in fact, they decried it as a dangerously unhealthy vegetable. And thereby hangs a tale concerning the linguistic root of the word spud, slang for potato. Following the arrival of the potato, food fanatics in England, so the story goes, went so far as to establish special associations to warn and discourage the population from eating it. They called themselves the Society for the Prevention of Undesirable and Dangerous Species or, according to another tradition, the Society for the Prevention of Unwholesome Diets. Too much of a mouthful to be remembered, these societies soon came to be referred to colloquially by their initials alone, as the SPUDS. It did not take long for the name to be identified with the potato itself. According to some scholars, however, the real, linguistic root of the spud is the instrument used to dig it up. A short knife, generally employed as a weeding tool, was known as spudde. And out of it, slightly shortened, grew the (potato) spud. This latter version probably also explains why people in the oil industry talk of spudding in a well, as in drilling (digging) a well and striking oil, even though the multimillion-dollar oil-drilling rigs of today are a far cry from the humble weeding tool used to dig up potatoes. Then, there is the word posh. Its linguistic root derives from the fact that English civil servants and army officers coming out to postings in India by ship in the nineteenth century would reserve cabin-space with the P & O Shipping Line in advance for their outward-bound and homeward-bound passages, stipulating that the cabin should be: "Port Out, Starboard Home." Because port-side cabins were supposed to be cooler on the voyage out and starboard-side cabins cooler on the voyage home, they cost more. So the initials POSH soon came to stand for superior quality. The French, who are very fond of good food and take justifiable pride in their cuisine, say: "You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs" - meaning, you can't get something for nothing. It is nevertheless a fact that there is not a single egg in an omelette, linguistically speaking. All an omelette tells is its (supposed) shape. The chief ingredient of the omelette is lamella, for thin plate - the Latin diminutive of lamina. An omelette therefore, if properly cooked, according to the rules of language should never be fluffy but thin as a blade. But one never knows how wrong one can go when things get heated. Gourmet chefs tend to get very upset if - horror of horrors - their omelette falls flat. If only they knew how true to the language their cooking is. So what's the origin of the word dessert, then? Again, it comes to us from France. In former days, once the main course had been served and eaten, the table was completely cleared, to make room for the sweets, and that is what the dessert, from the French desservier, says. It refers to the removal of all plates and dishes from the table. I, for one, however, have an aversion to the word dessert. Even though its origin is French, it has always struck me as an Americanism. I prefer the traditional English word pudding. But if you were to ask for pudding in a restaurant in America, they wouldn't know what you were talking about. "Don't you speak American?" they would say, rolling their eyes heavenwards. On the subject of pudding, the lamington is a "dinkum" (honest) Australian cake. A square piece of sponge, coated with a soft chocolate icing and rolled in desiccated coconut, once it belonged to every garden party and church fete not only in Australia but also in England. Even so, its name has no connection with the English town of Lemington Spa. Even the spelling is different. Like peach Melba and Melba toast, it honours a person. Historians tell us that Lamington was the titled name of the Scottish-born eighth Governor of Queensland, Australia. Appointed to the office in 1895 (when Australia was still a British colony), he assumed his duties the following year. It is said that he so endeared himself to the people that on his departure, they named their favourite cake after him. The pineapple, on the other hand, got its name from its shape. Seeing the fruit in the Caribbean islands for the first time, 16th Century European travellers said it reminded them of a fir cone, known as pina in Spanish. The word cup is much more poetic than it now sounds. From a Sanskrit root, it described a (little) well, though one of limited flow, it appears. Which may help to explain why the Persian poet Omar Khayyam wrote in his "Rubaiyat" (in Edward FitzGerald's classic translation): "Ah, fill the cup, what boots it to repeat / How time is slipping underneath our feet? / Unborn tomorrow and dead yesterday, / Why fret about them if today be sweet?" Why, indeed? People who are over-sensitive and always ready to pick a quarrel are said to have a chip on their shoulder. According to some scholars, the expression goes back to the American frontier days. Its pioneers were sturdy men, constantly ready to test their mettle against the forces of nature, and against each other. A man would put a wood chip, which abounded in the timbered country, on his shoulder and ask another defiantly to knock it off. To refuse to do so would have made him look like a coward in the eyes of all. A "chip on the shoulder" thus was bound to start a fight. Today's generation knows soap operas only as TV series. The origin of the expression, however, goes back to the early history of commercial radio in America when manufacturers of soap and soap powders, to advertise their products, sponsored programmes of popular drama on radio stations. It did not take long for people to associate this type of entertainment with soap. Soap opera became the general description of this kind of feature. Though soap washes off easily enough, it did not do so in the case of the soap opera. The name stuck even long after soap manufacturers had stopped advertising in this form. We all know the song "Home Sweet Home." When the Labour Government came to power in Britain after World War II, Prime Minister Clement Atlee announced in the House of Commons one day that his government planned to build two million "rehabilitation units" for working class people whose homes had been destroyed by German bombing. Rising to respond to Attlee's announcement, Tory leader Winston Churchill - a stickler for the proper use of the English language - said that while he welcomed the plan, he could not for the life of him imagine a working class family gathered around the fireplace at home singing "Rehabilitation Unit Sweet Rehabilitation Unit." Needless to say, the term was quickly dropped. To be as fit as a fiddle sounds rather odd and out of tune. It has been explained by saying that the phrase spoke of a person who always lived at concert pitch. Highly strung, he was able to produce the very best. Originally, however, there was no fiddle at all in the saying. Instead, it spoke of someone "as fit as a fiddler," which immediately makes more sense. At Irish feasts a fiddler served as the sole source of entertainment. He led the dance that, almost without a break, extended into the early hours of the morning. This amounted to a veritable endurance test. Admiring his stamina, people in Ireland came to speak of being "as fit as a fiddler." So how did the fiddler in this saying get changed to fiddle? The answer is that anything is possible in Ireland - a country where the Six Mile Bridge, near Dublin, is called the Six Mile Bridge because (wait for it) it's ten miles from Dublin. I kid you not. That's the official explanation given in the Irish Tourist Board's guidebook. karachicharacter The 100 idiom man By Sabeen Jamil Athar Iqbal is the
writer of three children's books. Born in Karachi in 1967, Athar started
his career as a writer for children pages of different newspapers. He
got his first story Anjani Khushi published in the Urdu daily Jang in
1986. Afterwards he started freelancing for children pages in different
newspapers. During the mid-'80s, Athar wrote scripts for different
programs on Radio Pakistan including scripts for the comedy series
Babban Shabban. Apart from this, Athar wrote exhaustively on issues
related to forests and zoos before and during his job as a Public
Relation Officer with the office of Naib Nazim Karachi. Kolachi: Why did you opt to write for children? Athar: I love children. I believe that the birth of every child is a manifestation of God's hope in mankind; I write for children for they represent God's hope. Secondly, I myself feel young at heart. My biological age is no less than 40, yet I feel not more than 20! Hence I write for the younger lot.
Kolachi: What made you write 101 Kahawatain and why did you write two sequels to it? Athar: The idea for writing a book on Urdu idioms dawned upon me while I was half asleep one night. Idioms are essential to communicate beautifully in any language, but sadly not much attention is given in our country to help a child become eloquent in Urdu. Children today have very little knowledge of idioms. I set out to teach children some idioms in a simple manner. I selected a hundred idioms from dictionaries and explained them with the help of short stories and pictures because I believe a child can retain images better than words. Luckily, the book was
widely appreciated and received a prize of 10 000 rupees from Kolachi: What is the state of children's literature in Karachi? Athar: Children's literature in Karachi is going through a very bad phase these days. There aren't enough resources for the writers of children books. Publishing a single book costs a writer up to 50 000 rupees. Paper is very expensive. In these circumstances, people writing for children need a pat on their backs. I want to pay a tribute to Hakim Muhammad Saeed here because he was one of those people who did a lot for children's literature.
Kolachi: What steps should be taken to improve conditions for children's literature in Karachi? Athar: There is a lot on electronic media's part to do to revive the concept of literature and entertainment for children. Since children now are more in to electronic media like internet and television than books, television can help revive literature for children by dramatizing children's books. Since there are not many programs for children on television these days, children either look to the internet or programs meant for adults to seek entertainment which is not the best thing for them. To prevent this, the electronic media needs to make programs of either their own or based on the popular literature for children. Moreover, if the government patronizes an institution to register all writers of children's literature and publish their work at it's own expense and pay the writer reasonably, I think it will prevent children's literature from declining further .
Athar works a maximum of 14 hours a day. He writes for children, serves at an Urdu newspaper and tries to maintain a positive image of the organization he serves at as a PRO. "A good PRO is one who makes his client believe that he is the most important person on the world," Athar says, adding that happiness comes to those who are dedicated to their lives. Making those happy who work hard at their lives, such is Karachi's character. Photos by: Zahid Rehman |
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Pakistan, especially in Karachi. After all, these cafés provide
somewhere outside of work where one can meet with friends, have some
coffee and just be. Many a critic (read avid coffee house goer of the
'60s and '70s) has lamented that these coffee shops and their loyalists
can't hold a candle against the intellectual patrons of the 'old' coffee
houses, but that is really no fault of a generation completely unaware
of what that trend meant.
technology and design for a long time and wanted to be involved in some
kind of development work, but the kind of development that she believed
in and would personally want to be involved with. She did look around
and found that many NGOs, while working for worthy causes, were not
where her interests lay. Add to that the fact that she is a techie and
observed that many organizations did not take well to all the
conveniences made available to them through technological advances.
"Newer forms of communication," she says, "such as
design, branding and technology are anathema to them; they either don't
want to use them or don't want to learn how to."
book,"
says Sabeen, "especially when one goes out alone, it doesn't quite
work. That is when some of the frustrations bubbled up."
your life and finally get a chance to get to hear them speak and when
you do; they just come and speak and go away."
narrates the tale of one session where a young journalist was recounting
her adventures at the bombed October 18 rally. This miffed Ardeshir
Cowasjee, a columnist much senior to this journalist, as he couldn't
understand "why someone would take such a stupid risk."
Head of
Emergency and Accident Department at Jinnah Post-Graduate Medical
Centre, (JPMC). She pinpoints one of the problems caused by traffic gone
haywire; "because of the city's traffic mess," she says,
"ambulances can never be on time."
ups and the high levels of pollution in the city that continue to rise
every day. "People are becoming mentally agitated because of
traffic problems. This can lead to heart problems later on," argues
Dr Sajjad. He points out that such psychological ailments can lead to
hypertension, heart disease and kidney problems.
Athar has been at the government job for 15 years now. He has served as
a PRO during the governments of different political parties and has
managed to do well with all of them despite different political
ideologies. Meanwhile he has written six books, including three parts of
101 Kahawatain for children, two travelogues by the name of Swat Swad
and Jheel Saifulmalik Tak and Radiai Khakay, a collection of Athar's
scripts for the radio.
National Book Foundation (NBF). That motivated me to write a sequel to
101 Kahawatain, which too was a prize winning book. Then I wrote the
third part, but this time I received a letter from NBF reading
"though you write well on idioms, there are a lot of other topics
in the world you could write on," I stopped writing on idioms after
this. However, upon my request, the Federal and Sindh governments have
recommended 101 Kahawatain as a course book.