Blasted to modernity
All the contrasting visions from Islamabad to Nathiagali hammer home one important point: the area of Murree and Galiyat is very vulnerable
By Saeed Ur Rehman
That natural disasters are also political disasters has been demonstrated by Amartya Sen's work on famines. The work got him a Nobel Prize for Economics and also influenced the way the UN Development Program ranks countries according to their "human development." But these were only theoretical concerns until I steered my car away from the old Kashmir Highway to Islamabad-Kohala Expressway. There the proof of the argument that political disasters compound natural disasters was clearly visible. The entire length of the Expressway shows the traveller warning signs in a neutral, impersonal tone "Danger: Land Slide Area Drive Carefully" as if landslides along the four-lane road were a natural phenomenon. The fact that the entire stretch of tarmac has been built after extensive blasting of the mountainsides and after removing the trees is hidden behind the scientific-sounding warnings.

Tariq Alexander Qaiser is an architect by profession and a voyager by disposition. Tariq has nourished a love for boats since he was eight but it was only three years ago that his once-ethereal dream of owning his own vessel materialised when he and his talented wife Mona became proud owners of a beautiful boat called Al-Janglee, a ludicrous name for a boat so beautiful and so gentle, she makes your heart melt. 

The 60-foot long boat lies at the kernel of a scenario akin to a love story replete with passion and drama and coincidence. It is not for nothing that Tariq likes to reiterate the idea of serendipity which also titles the brochures he hands to potential clients. A few years ago, when Tariq decided to grasp his life-long yearning for a boat, he set out to look for one and finding a decrepit fishing trawler, bought it and sailed it into the boat yard of a Master Boat Builder Haji Essa of Yunus Goth for its reconstruction. The fact was, Tariq had not approached the boat builder but had decided to opt for his services on grounds of the Haji's reputation in the industry. The next morning when Tariq went to meet the boat builder, he was met by the stern-faced Haji Essa who informed him in the coldest fashion that since the boat was on his land it now belonged to him, to Haji Essa.

As Tariq grew cold with trepidation at the thought of being parted from his boat so ruthlessly a day after acquiring her, Haji Essa turned on him and said, "I built this boat more than 17 years ago with my own hands and now she is mine. I will do with her as I wish" and thus Haji Essa claimed her for the next one year during which he and Tariq collaborated on her design, restructuring and renovating board by board, from bow to stern, inside out. Since Haji Essa had named the boat Al-Janglee on his whim, Tariq decided to retain the name in deference of the builder.

The two strong-willed men clashed at several stages of the building of the boat. But they agreed to disagree amicably in respect of the other's informed skill and experience. Tariq recounts how he came to the boat yard one day to find the mast he had designed chopped down by as much as three feet. On inquiry, Haji Essa asserted that the deed had been done to enhance the aesthetic quality of the boat in complete disregard of Tariq's decades of creative designing. He declared to Tariq "I know you are an accomplished architect. But you design lines for buildings that must be straight and stalwart. In a boat there are no straight lines and much of the work is intuitive and relies on years of practice. From his point of view, Haji Essa was correct but he did not take into account Tariq's passion for boats. As it turned out Haji Essa's external crustaceous façade concealed a caring, gentle soul, and he plunged into the remaking of Al-Janglee with alacrity and professionalism.

As the boat gained form, she also gained character. Tariq Qaiser imbued her with the values of a socially and ecologically aware citizen emphasising the elements of eco-awareness by ensuring that litter from the boat did not pollute the seas and that items used for repairing are recyclable. Throughout her re-making, Tariq was conscious of the significance of the human creative spirit, preferring materials that were local and handmade, and made from recycled material instead of being manufactured in infinite quantities in a factory in China.

Tariq and Mona's combined philanthropic spirit, however, did not allow them the leisure of hedonistic indulgence. Instead they decided to put the boat to good use and make her the flagship project of a larger enterprise. That enterprise is called The Champa -- a hospitality and event management organisation which offers the boat to anyone who wishes to enjoy the pleasures of a spectacular sunset out on the estuaries of Karachi or the shimmering moonlight and star-studded sky fanned by the lilting sea breeze. The boat comes with state-of-the-art navigational facilities, an experienced captain, along with a well-trained crew, fine dining services and all the luxuries that one could want on a day or evening out with friends. Tariq encourages people to organise meetings and conferences on the boat and his clients have thanked him for the idea and opportunity, reporting that they found the experience perfectly suited to a working environment -- close to home and yet undistracted by the vagaries of office-life.

The proceeds of the income generated by the boat have a deserving recipient. While some of the proceeds go towards the salaries and welfare claims of the crew and team members, some of the income is put back into the boat for maintenance and upgradation. More importantly, as much as 25 per cent of the money earned is dedicated to Tariq's other venture close to his heart -- the highly advanced and well-structured Indus Hospital in Korangi which provides free surgical procedures to thousands of needy people from across Pakistan. The boat has also attracted funds for The Citizens' Foundation through a fundraiser.

As much as he adores his boat Al-Janglee, spending many hours designing buildings within the quiet comfort of the office space on the boat, or during his own office meetings, Tariq Qaiser claims he wouldn't mind parting with Al-Janglee and starting work on a new boat, offering him all the challenges that he faced in the refabrication of this boat, bringing to reason Ralph Waldo Emerson's line in his Essays on History and Intellect that, "The true ship is the ship builder". But Mona disagrees with Tariq's nonchalance and feels that he would suffer the pangs of separation if he parted with the boat.

With her sleek lines and beautiful form, Al-Janglee "walks the waters like a thing of life" embracing within her prow all those who seek to hear her tales of her life on the water.

That natural disasters are also political disasters has been demonstrated by Amartya Sen's work on famines. The work got him a Nobel Prize for Economics and also influenced the way the UN Development Program ranks countries according to their "human development." But these were only theoretical concerns until I steered my car away from the old Kashmir Highway to Islamabad-Kohala Expressway. There the proof of the argument that political disasters compound natural disasters was clearly visible. The entire length of the Expressway shows the traveller warning signs in a neutral, impersonal tone "Danger: Land Slide Area Drive Carefully" as if landslides along the four-lane road were a natural phenomenon. The fact that the entire stretch of tarmac has been built after extensive blasting of the mountainsides and after removing the trees is hidden behind the scientific-sounding warnings.

The Expressway also betrays another political nightmare: the total disregard for the dignity of the pedestrian. It seems our various governments value concrete and tarmac above human beings. There is no respite for a car-less human being travelling on this road. No pedestrian crossings. No friendly places to sit and wait. Through the drive, I saw people sitting on the concrete barrier and waiting for some public transport to pick them up but there are no designated waiting areas for the villagers who come from different old settlements in the valley stretching from Islamabad to Murree.

It will not be an exaggeration to say that the Islmabad-Kohala Expressway is one of the many manifestations of the classist hubris prevalent in our country. It is almost impossible to travel on it if your vehicle is even slightly underpowered. The last stretch of the road to Murree is so steep that on the way up many cars were standing with their engines steaming. It is such a common occurrence that the local boys have started selling water for cooling the engines in 1.5 litre cola bottles all along the two-lane road.

Only after the Expressway's yellow and black clinical precision gave way to the old road, there was some respite from the terror and apathy induced by concrete. The old road to Nathiagali, past Jhika Gali, still seems more humane. And the fact that the snow is still visible on both sides of the road, once you have passed Ayubia, is an immense relief to somebody who is running away from Lahori rickshaws and other smoke-emitting monstrosities.

Nathiagali also shows signs of human activity but it is still a peaceful hill station with a crisp, invigorating air and many pleasant trekking paths. Even architecturally, the old wooden buildings are a pleasure to look at dewspite the fact that the old wooden church has been painted brown from the original black. There are some 19th century chalets preserved and maintained by the Sarhad Tourism Corporation available to travellers for spending a night or more on seasonal rates. At night, Nathiagali is sheer calm and one only hears the rustling of the trees and the sounds of distant waterfalls.

All the contrasting visions from Islamabad to Nathiagali hammer home one important point: the area of Murree and Galiyat is very vulnerable. Its ecosystem, which is a part of the Himalayan ecosystem, is threatened by governmental development projects, consumerism and fundamentalism. The entire area has too many signboards of different property advisors and numerous wall chalkings of various jihadi outfits eulogising an aggressive ethos.

After driving around in the region for some time, I had a strange realisation. All the signs that contained the phrase "global warming" were in English as if they were not meant for the local residents but for the consumption of some donor agency. I even started thinking whether the phrase "global warming" was untranslatable into Urdu.

I left the region thinking that there must be some way of dealing with the environmental threats faced by the region. Several options came to my mind:

(a) The entire region of Galiyat, like Murree, should be declared a pollution-free zone,

(b) Deforestation of the region should be checked by introducing other ways of heating such as gas or solar heaters,

(c) The only kind of tourism that should be encouraged should be eco-tourism,

(d) The local population should have a network of medical and educational facilities so that there is less need of travelling and burning fossil fuels.

The only way this region can have a future is by having a healthy ecosystem because concrete, money and religious aggression cannot be eaten.