It may not exactly be a revolution, but the revolutionary zeal is there, particularly amongst the younger lot. Those who came of age during Gen. Zia's regime and its aftermath may have a sense of deja vu, but for newcomers into the activist field the sense of outrage and betrayal is purer. Something about the present situation has fired them up enough to engage in 'subversive' activities like public demonstrations against the martial law for which they know they can be arrested, tried for treason, or worse.

"We've been gifted with a crisis," is how Ahsan Jamil, a businessman and an old friend in Karachi analyses it. "In countries where things go well, a certain smugness or sense of complacency sets in. In Pakistan, we have not been allowed that luxury."

The 'judicial crisis' that dominated Pakistani politics since March this year has much to do with the general sense of discontent that began building up among those who otherwise had nothing much to complain about. This includes many among the 'Musharraf generation' -- well-to-do young urbanites for whom the pre-email, pre-cell phone and pre-independent television channels era is prehistoric -- corporate bankers and lawyers, chartered accountants, television journalists (fabulously well-paid compared to their print counterparts), software engineers and business-people. In general, members of the amorphous, consumer-oriented urban middle class that benefited materially from the liberal economic policy of the Musharraf regime.

General Musharraf's announcement of an 'emergency' on Nov 3 stunned many among this otherwise complacent generation -- enough to finally act upon their convictions. In doing so, many re-grouped through contacts originally formed during times of natural disaster, like the Kashmir earthquake. They used the tools at their fingertips -- technology like the internet, email, chat, blogs and cell phone text messages to come together, and also to join up with activists who have a long (pre-cell phone) history of political struggle for democracy in Pakistan.

Some landed up at the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan in Lahore the very next day for a public meeting to discuss the martial law and were rounded up and detained for the next three days after the police raided the HRCP office.

In Karachi too, the previous jumble of women's and human rights activists, journalists, trade union members and workers of small left wing political parties who used to come together under the banner of Joint Action Committee (JAC), were now joined by those who have never been 'activists' before: the young 'techies', artists, bankers and accountants. They eventually named this diverse, loose coalition of individuals and 'civil society,' the People's Resistance. "This is the beginning of a movement," said someone at this meeting.

Whether or not that is the case, many are fired up enough to engage in actions they've never done before. Some have gone to visit total strangers at their homes -- the deposed judges of the High Courts, taking flowers in appreciation of the stand these judges have taken. "At first I thought this was all nonsense," said a seasoned lawyer who has been helping to get his colleagues released from Karachi Central Jail. "But it has made a huge difference to the morale of these judges. They've never engaged with the public before, and now they are proudly telling friends that 'civil society' came to visit them."

Some new activists are using their talents to make and design posters that they distribute at public meetings, or make stencils to spray graffiti in public spaces. Some want to make their presence felt in public with candle-light vigils and demonstrations. Many turn up at short notice for what are called 'flash protests' at a given public spot, each armed with his or her own banner or placard. They demonstrate for a pre-determined short period of time, and disperse before the police arrive.

"I want to collect a million signatures," said Ali Assad, 26. An unlikely contender for the term 'activist,' this mild-looking, clean-cut young investment banker, a graduate of the prestigious Lahore University of Management Sciences, has purchased several note-books and is working with friends to formulate the text that they want to get people to sign on, incorporating basic demands like 'Lift the Martial Law, Restore the Judiciary and Media Independence.' His banker colleagues think he is slightly mad.

He's 'mad' alright -- as in angry. Angry at what is happening to his country. An avid reader, he was already familiar with the works of writers like Eqbal Ahmad and Noam Chomsky who reinforced his liberal political views and innate distaste of anti-authoritarianism and religious extremism. But he had never even participated in the anti-Iraq war protests while a student at LUMS.

So what changed things for him? "The lawyers' movement and the media coverage... lawyers being beaten on streets and for what? They were fighting for judiciary not for power unlike political parties."

The bloodshed on May 12 when the Chief Justice was prevented from coming into Karachi made Assad's "blood boil with hatred for what was happening in the country." He was 'electrified' by the Islamabad Supreme Court seminar. "People in their speeches were articulating my sentiments, and suddenly my heroes became people like Talat Hussain of Aaj TV, and lawyers like Aitzaz Ahsan and Munir A. Malik."

Most importantly, after the PCO orders of Nov 3, he found like minded people with whom he could connect and coordinate. "I just wanted to make my voice heard. I felt that in a country where the highest judiciary can receive no protection, what is my 'auqaat' (standing)? It scared me."

Another unlikely young activist is Adnan Mufti, a chartered accountant, who is spreading the word among his colleagues. Responding to an email from Judson Esty-Kendall, a lawyer in Maine asking how he and his colleagues could support the Pakistani lawyers, Mufti urged him to press the US government and its allies to push Musharraf "to restore judiciary, not just simply demand end of emergency in Pakistan. It appears that the US Govt is not pressing for the restoration of judiciary and reinstatement of Honourable Chief Justice Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry and other judges who refused to breach the Constitution of Pakistan. May I inform you that without restoration of judges, Pakistan will never be out of the emergency."

These young people are aware of their limitations, but feels that they must protest in whatever way they can.

"I won't sit still," says Assad. "Maybe ten years down the line I will be able to do more. But I will continue to do something." He likes the Dante quote in an advertisement released a few days ago by several leading intellectuals and retired bureaucrats in Lahore:

"The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who in the time of crisis choose to maintain their neutrality."

Shafi Mohammed Shah who died an untimely death last week was a fine actor. Like many other good television actors he started his professional career from the radio. Born in Kandiaro, and then going through the paces of college education from the University of Sindh exposed him to Radio Pakistan, Hyderabad. He was spotted by Pakistan Television producer Shahzad Khalil and cast in Urta Asman in the 1970s and since then he performed in more than five hundred television plays.

Actually when one compares the performances on television in Pakistan they should not be bracketed with the place that is universally attributed to this medium, especially in the more developed world. It is an adage that theatre produces actors, the film produces stars and television only presenters. But, in countries like Pakistan, television has more often than not taken over the role of both film and theatre and assumed upon itself the role of producing plays and throwing up actors and stars in the process.

Television, especially PTV, was known most for its fine array of plays. And it was a tradition that it had inherited from the radio. Radio plays especially from Lahore were considered to be the finest, and in the absence of realistic cinema and an incoherent theatre it provided an outlet for creative energies of writers, broadcasters and even musicians doing the background score. And though the radio like television was state-owned its platform was used shrewdly and some high-quality work was done there. Television born from the rib of the radio took over and continued to produce fine plays.

The foundation of good radio play was the literary input of the scripts. Some of the best known writers wrote for the radio and many youngsters became well known writers while writing plays for the radio. And television continued with that tradition and kept the leading writers on its side, their literary input considered crucial in the making of the television plays.

The entire landscape of literature was laid bare in realism. In the cinema realism was missing. The films which traditionally should have taken over the function of launching stars and directors were larger than life to look at life in its contemporary context .The theatre followed the same pattern. In the areas of which Pakistan was formed there was no theatre on the same scale and level as in Calcutta and Bombay. As it was, the rise of the talkies in the 1930s had started to overshadow theatre and its downhill course was evident by the time of independence. The ground was thus clear for introducing earthy plays that showed people in a pragmatic manner. And this was done effectively by the radio. When television was established the same trend was emphasised and for the next thirty odd years it continued to capitalise on this strength.

If Mohammed Qavi Khan, is taken to be the first generation of television actors then Shafi Mohammed can be slotted as the third generation of superb acting talent that was honed by television. He was familiarised into the world of the performing arts by the radio and soon he made his debut on the small screen and from the word go registered himself as a significant presence. It was not easy, but playing roles versus some of the well established stars of television helped him measure up to their level in the earliest attempt.

Shafi Mohammed always underplayed his roles. There were no exaggerated gestures, no declamatory speeches, and no mind blowing action. It was always the mutterings, the whispers and the measured tones that were dramatically exploited to the full. The medium of television with its emphasis on the close ups, Shafi Mohammed with his expression and speech was suitably cut to fit well into the small screen. Even when he played the authoritative feudal chief, a newspaper baron or a mafia operator, that cool and measured tone never left him. But at no time was the impression given that the measured tone was synonymous with being flat. It was actually the coming together of his expression and the measured tone that summed up the scenes effectively.

He was a versatile actor and despite the general tendency to typecast the actor in any one role that had made him famous, he had the talent not to be bound by that typecasting. He was on the verge of playing guy, whether it was the newspaper baron, or a mafia chief he portrayed a character that was ill adjusted with a darker ring, one who had the cunningness to beat society at its own game yet he was hardly ever hated for these roles. He humanised the bad, evil characters, making them rise beyond the clear divide of good and evil. Some of the famous plays that he acted in were Chand Grahan, Daerey, Aanch, Bund Gulab and Muhabbat Khawab Ki Soorat.

With the proliferation of the new channels and greater stress on glamour, there was limited scope for him in this new television setup. Like many of the other television actors he too started to slip from the centre on to the margins. The literary content which was the hallmark of the earlier television plays were considered being not crucial enough, the glitz, the glamour, the frill of the soap opera pushed talent like Shafi Mohammed out into the shadows.

In the last few years he continued to act but not with the previous impact. He also acted in a few films like Biwi Ho Tu Aisi, Aisa Bhi Hota Hai, Talash but the Pakistani big screen with its limitations did not hold much for him.

Isabelle Braud grew up in Central France where she attended the National School of Arts at Limoges. Braud's works have received accolades from all around the world. Her works, which include her memoirs of various images in Pakistan, have been exhibited in various countries.

She was on a month-long visit to Lahore; her exhibition titled 'Eyes in Pakistan' is being held at the National College of Arts (NCA). She has just concluded a workshop with the students of Textile Design on design development. The News on Sunday caught up with her a day before her departure was scheduled.

TNS: So, is this is your second visit to Pakistan?

Isabelle Braud: Yes, the last time I came here was in the winter of 2006. On both these occasions the National College of Arts has been very generous and gave me this wonderful campus to live in and work.

TNS: What was your experience like, working with Pakistani artists?

IB: I am not here to work with professional artists, although I do get a chance to chat with them occasionally. I spend most of my time with the college students. I get to learn a lot from them and try to help them in their problems with the little knowledge I have.

TNS: But people out there are comparing you with Henri Matisse.

IB: (Laughs} No, no. Matisse is one of the greatest European artists of this century. Even now, at 80 years of age, his works are the same as they used to be, perfect. There are few who can be compared to him.

TNS: You have lived and worked in this part. What do you think are the essential differences between eastern and western art?

IB: (After a long pause) Art definitely evolves with culture. There is a great deal of difference between art of the subcontinent and Europe. When I first came to Pakistan, I was astounded to see paintings at the back of rickshaws and trucks. It was new for me and I loved the idea. You will not find anything like this in France. It changes with culture, heritage, customs and time. For example, in the French works of art, personal experiences and problems are depicted. Whereas in the subcontinent, people in their works, exemplify problems of the entire community.

Despite all this, I have a different point of view. If you look at my work, you'll notice that I make an effort to make a connection between the east and the west. I do not limit art to culture and geography. In the end, life gives us the same problems everywhere around the world.

TNS: You have relied a lot on memory in your work. Any particular reason for that?

IB: Almost every other artist relies on his or her memory. This is not new. I, like many others, treasure my memory. It is my reality, my world. It is something no one can take away from me.

TNS: How is the alteration of medium and material changing art, both here and in the west?

IB: To be honest, it really doesn't matter what material people use. If you go in the next room you'll find a number of students working on the computer. It depends on how you feel comfortable.

TNS: What do you think is the difference between art and craft?

IB: There is a great deal of difference between the two. A craftsman uses traditional material to make objects, for example, pottery. Whereas an artist uses ideas, both old and new. However, unlike craft, work of art, being an invention of a creative mind, cannot be materialised. This is the basic difference between the two.

TNS: Last year you worked with children in Islamabad. How was that experience?

IB: Wonderful! I love working with children. Their mind is 'free'. I learnt a lot.from them. I learnt that if you think like a child and let your mind wander into any direction, you'll come up with something absolutely brilliant.

TNS: According to Newsweek, Pakistan is the most dangerous country in the world? Dozens of people die weekly in suicide attacks and still you came back to visit Pakistan. Why?

IB: To be honest, Pakistan has a very poor image in the world. When I tell someone that I am going to Pakistan they ask me if I am out my mind. But I come here to work, I don't think the suicide bombers would mind that. As long as I am in this campus I feel safe. Moreover, now that I am here it is not like people think and how the media portrays Pakistan abroad. I hope that others follow my example so that together we can rectify Pakistan's image.

TNS: Do you plan to come to Pakistan again?

IB: Right now I don't have any plans but maybe next year.

The death of Norman Mailer, one of the foremost literary icons of America, at the age of 84, has forced a spate of comments on his turbulent life, his intense love-hates and the lasting impression he left on American life. As expected, his admirers and detractors remain divided over the meaning of Norman Mailer even at his death as they were in his life.

Harvard-educated Norman rose to literary fame with the publication of his first book The Dead and the Naked (1948), which pulled ecstatic reception. George Orwell, a great novelist, in 1949, described it as the best book of the year. The novel, drawing on his war-time experiences as a young soldier, depicted the life of low-rank soldiers during the war.

Norman's innate sympathy with the deprived and antiwar sentiments that grew out of this formative experience constituted two constants in his life. The rock-ribbed anti-war sensibility ran through his two books published wide apart from each other: Why Are We in Vietnam (1968) followed by Why Are We at War (2003), a strong condemnation of US-invasion of Iraq. His sympathy for the underdogs led into identifying with a number of unpopular causes. This drew him close to the great black American writer James Baldwin during Norman's stay in Paris where Baldwin had sought refuge from pervasive racism of the US. The Fight (1975) neatly dovetailed his love for boxing and the great black boxer Mohammad Ali.

Thus shaped politically, Norman began his intense engagement with American public life and stamped his personality on great political themes of the day. In pursuing this he did not confine himself to literature alone, but unsuccessfully stood as the mayoral candidate of New York in 1969. His prodigious output in books and essays were heavily marked with a sense of the writer's extended role as an activist. In doing so, as Mark Lawson aptly pointed out, Norman blurred the boundary between fiction-driven news and news driven fiction without much shouting about it. This meshing together of the personal and larger political persona later came to be known as New Journalism movement personified by writers like Tom Wolfe.

His own life was a living embodiment of fact and fiction, and most of his books depict this duality of narration and participation. Norman also tried his hand at directing and directed about four films; in 1987 he adapted and directed a film version of his novel Tough Guys Don't Dance, starring Ryan O'Neal, which has become a minor camp classic.

Raoul Walsh directed the 1958 film adaptation of The Naked and the Dead, starring Cliff Robertson, Aldo Ray, and Raymond Massey, while Mailer's An American Dream was turned into a 1966 movie (adapted by Mann Rubin), directed by Robert Gist, and starring Stuart Whitman, Janet Leigh, and Eleanor Parker.

Mailer himself appeared in a handful of film productions, among them Milos Forman's 1981 Ragtime, in which he played murder victim Stanford White.

Like most of creative geniuses, Norman's personal life was turbulent. He married six times. While negotiating the mire of multiple relationships he came to earn the ire of the feminist movement when he nearly fatally stabbed his second wife Adele Morales. This act coupled with his passion for macho sports like boxing confirmed his reputation as the chauvinist male pig in the feminist narrative. With this clash of competing views firming up, the stage was set for regular shouting match between Norman and the leading lights of the feminist movement. The 1971 Norman-Greer debate occasioned by Norman's anti-feminist book The Prisoner of Sex was highlight of that year's literary season in America.

In all he authored more than thirty books; most of his later books did not receive the ecstatic reception that was accorded to the earlier ones. Despite this, his books continue to remain relevant as the record of alternative thinking on officially-filtered issues of the day. His book Harlot's Song (1991) is the best written account of how the CIA has turned America into a national security state. In exposing the alternative side of America he has educated the rest of the world as to the better side of America.

(Mailer won a Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award for The Armies of the Night, a 1968 account of the peace march on the Pentagon, and twelve years later won another Pulitzer, for The Executioner's Song, about the life and death of petty criminal Gary Gilmore).