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pride Malalai has proved that she is worthy of the name — a young girl defying fate to take its course and opting to stand up for her rights By Khan Shehram Eusufzye In Pakhtun culture the name Malalai is greatly revered. This legendary name has survived the test of time, and the suffocating hold of religious fanatics and bigoted extremists, and has become an epitome of love, hope, determination and bravery throughout the Pakhtun diaspora. review Firm
commitment The
honourable group
pride Daughter of the North West Malalai has proved that she is worthy of the name — a young girl defying fate to take its course and opting to stand up for her rights By Khan Shehram Eusufzye In Pakhtun culture the
name Malalai is greatly revered. This legendary name has survived the test
of time, and the suffocating hold of religious fanatics and bigoted
extremists, and has become an epitome of love, hope, determination and
bravery throughout the Pakhtun diaspora. The gallantry of Malalai
of Maiwand in the second Anglo-Afghan war is mentioned throughout the
Afghan and Pukhtun literature, becoming a role model for people, and for
them to rise to the challenge of enduring afflictions and sufferings. In modern day
Afghanistan, the legend of Malalai resurfaced in the form of two brave
women — Malalai Kakar, a police officer, who was killed by the Taliban
in 2008 for her involvement in ending domestic violence against women and
Malalai Joya, an ex-parliamentarian of the Afghanistan assembly who stood
up for the rights of women; she was also dubbed as ‘the woman who cannot
be silenced’. Of late, a third Malalai
has stirred a storm in the region: a 14-year-old girl hailing from a small
village of Gul Kada, Mingora Swat, an eighth class student at the Khushal
School and College Swat, was recently nominated for the international
peace prize for children held in South Africa for her untiring efforts to
bring female literacy in Swat at par with the rest of the world. She was
shortlisted amongst the top five nominees chosen out of 98 children from
42 different countries. Though she fell short of getting the award,
Malalai took the shortcomings in her stride and vowed to continue with her
efforts. Malalai Yusufzai, first
voiced her concerns during the Taliban heydays in Swat when the voices
which rose against their atrocities were reduced to piteous whispers. Her
plea of “I want to go to school,” in the New York Times and later her
role as a protagonist in the short documentary titled, Class dismissed in
Swat Valley, was the possible fate of the valley. Before the military
operation in Swat, her letters to BBC Urdu wrote under the pseudonym Gul
Makai was one of the most innocent accounts of a little girl who saw her
cultural and traditional institutions being robbed — and she feared
losing her identity at the hands of the lunatic fringe represented by the
Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). In a recent interview
with her, I inquired about her letters and why they were written as
anonymous opus. “The pervasive spread of terror by the Taliban made
everyone so insecure that it seemed that everyone was spying on each
other. They had their network and many a time they used sadistic measures
to draw out information from people,” says Malalai. She further recalls,
“Fear lingered in the streets and the people looked cowed even though
many of them hated the Taliban, but they caved in to their demands without
any struggle.” To a question on why she
took a huge risk in writing those letters and if she was aware of the
consequences involved, Malalai replied, “We give our suffering a meaning
by the way we respond to it. At that time I cultivated this state of mind
to my Such thought-provoking
talk from a 14-year-old girl would have come to me as a surprise had I not
talked earlier to her father Ziauddin Yusufzai, an eminent member of the
Swat Qaumi Jirga. Ziauddin Yusufzai is the director of Khushal School and
College, hence the yearning to get education runs within the family. He
recalls how Malalai used to listen to the elders with rapt attention when
they talked of the developing scenario and how to curtail the menace of
Talibanisation. “She is a brave girl,” says her proud father, “she
could have easily sought refuge in her mother’s arms but instead she
assumed the responsibility of galvanising her classmates to attend school
even after a ban was imposed on female education.” Ziauddin still gets
shivers when he recalls the time when he, too, clung to shreds of hope and
believed to the last moment that things would not get worse. A society without
education and literature is a society that lacks a strong core. Malalai
believes that had the literacy level among the people been high, the
terrorists would never have grounded their heels in the region. She is of
the opinion that people should break free from the shackles of ignorance
and be supportive of female education. When the dust settled
down after the army operation in Swat, Malalai doubled her efforts in
bringing the lives of her fellow students back to normal. In 2010, Malalai
got elected as the first speaker of the child assembly, a concept floated
by UNICEF, to highlight and find a remedy to the problems faced by
children. The assembly, under her speakership, has passed various bills
regarding child protection and education and has forwarded them to the
concerned authorities for implementation. She is also wary of the
army’s role within the region and believes that the military should
avoid spreading its tentacles into matters of civil administration.
“They came to our rescue and we are grateful for that. But they should
not terrorise innocent The young girl wants to
continue with her efforts and in the near futures wishes to build up a
team which will focus on bringing the under-privileged children into the
fold of education. Malalai has proved that
she is worthy of the name — a young girl defying fate to take its course
and opting to stand up for her rights rather than vegetate. In the words of
Nietzsche, “That, which does not kill me, makes me stronger.” A lesson
one may gather from Malalai Yusufzai is that forces beyond one’s control
can snatch everything a person has, except the person’s freedom to
choose. Journalist Christina Lamb once wrote that “Despite attempts to
destroy the country and its culture, its soul remains uncrushed” and in
my opinion Malalai represents that very soul. Truly she is the Daughter of
North West and pride of the proud.
I’m not sure about the
etymological connection between the two ((logos in Greek means word) but
language is like Lego. Just as identical units are placed in varying
numbers, combinations and options to construct interlocking structures in
Lego, words keep changing their meaning and connotation. We often
associate a specific meaning with a certain word, but in most cases it is
arbitrary. In the history of language, we are surprised to find diverse,
and sometimes contradictory, meanings attached to a single word in
different periods. Residency, a term now
used for artists working as a collective at a particular place, sharing
ideas, producing and exhibiting art either at the same venue or at a
gallery, had a different understanding in the colonial period.
Historically it was “the official residence of the Governor General’s
representative or other government agent at an Indian native court; the
territory supervised by his official” (The Concise Oxford Dictionary). In colonial India, the
institution of Residency was responsible for safeguarding the interests of
the British by infiltrating their men in positions of power, influencing
the ruler and alluring the public — to the extent that all decisions
made at the native court were in accordance with the policy and whims of
the envoy. In a strange way, the
role of Residency in the world of art has similarities with its historical
antecedent. One needs to probe the institution of residency since the
organisers, who provide the facility, do not expect or demand that the
artists make specific sort of work. Yet artists who join these residencies
assume that a certain kind of work is required of them so they are keen on
experimenting and creating something refreshing. Sometimes these works,
that appear contemporary, lack conceptual clarity. Perhaps the idea of
making that type of work at a residency is like travelling abroad. A
person away from his homeland can change identity, language, customs and
costume and, like his fellow travellers, behave like a native of the host
country. But once the photographs of his journey are seen in his homeland,
he is perceived as alien. Although it is necessary that a man must leave
his place, abandon his habits and encounter strange territories, rituals
and cultures, for an artist, this process is not a simple excursion into
the new and the unknown. For a creative person, a different setting
demands a respo In that
sense, some of the works exhibited during Taza Tareen, Vasl Residency
Lahore at Rohtas 2 (from Nov 27 to Dec 3, 2011) confirm the desire of
seeking something new by employing established habits. In the works of S.
M. Raza and Habib Phulpoto, one could discern the desperation to be
contemporary, without understanding the notion of this term. In our world
of art, contemporary is ‘leisurely’ used for defining certain genres
(like digital prints, installations, videos, mixed-media etc.) or nature
of works, which are site-specific, ephemeral and experimental.
Obliterating the fact that whatever is being produced at present,
regardless of its technique or material, is contemporary, only if it is
going to survive the test of time. So in that way a landscape by Khalid
Iqbal is as contemporary as One Day in the Life of a Landscape by Rashid
Rana (despite the fact that one is painted in oil and the other is a
digital pint). However, the pressure
from unknown and unseen quarters in residencies is such that artists who
are well-versed in ‘conventional’ means of drawing and painting are
forced to flirt with digital print, audio and mixed-media. The work of
Phulpoto and Raza are exercises in a diction that was adapted for its
supposed superiority in our art, instead of a real need for that sort of
vocabulary. So whether it is the collage of songs and video covers on
board or tiny portraits carved out of abandoned palettes, it is not
convincing. The stint at the
residency resulted in a similar scheme for Zaineb Siddique (an artist
making videos) who has created an installation which appears interesting
from outside but once explored physically (which it was meant to do) loses
its impact — like her two tiny videos at the same show. Once a viewer
enters the large cube composed of plastic stripes, he glimpses lights
hanging in the middle, which deflates the ambiguity of the art work — a
quality that could have elevated it.
The work of two
participants of Taza Tareen, Ayesha Zulfiqar and Ayesha Kamal is devoid of
the pressure of producing something fashionable; yet their works seem more
contemporary than any other. Mainly because these works communicate with
the audience through the simplicity of their means as well as probing
complex concepts by using convincing and communal Ayesha Kamal in her
video has recorded the image of a temporary structure made of corrugated
sheet, and the video is shown as a tiny window inside the actual structure
displayed on a pedestal. So the idea of original and its reproduction is
dealt with in a lyrical manner. In her other videos, Kamal has sought to
convey the same effect, but these look more like variations of a
successful piece. The dichotomy of the image and object, evident in her
work, also signifies the basic existential issues of home, domesticity and
alienation. On the whole, the
outcome of Taza Tareen Residency suggests that artists can take a number
of routes, working at one place and in identical conditions. This is much
like our ancestors who, in the colonial period, were facing multiple
challenges caused by the residencies at their courts. Only those who
managed to survive the outsider’s dictation are still remembered.
Similarly, here, the artists who are making their own mark inspite of
others’ diction and direction will last — long!
When a few months ago
the Lahore Music Forum was set up with the avowed purpose of promoting
classical music, it was obvious that the task was clearly laid out for
them. The number of really top of the line performers over the years has
been decreasing and the occasions to hold concerts too have been on the
decline. On top of that, the practitioners have preferred craft over art
with the virtuosity of a vocalist or an instrumentalist standing apart
from the total impact of the performance. As the display of skill has
become the sole criteria for assessing a musical performance, the
classical music performance in Pakistan in particular has suffered from an
organic integration of craft and form. One of the positive
aspects of the initiative has been the introduction of many a young
performer in the various concerts that have been held so far at the
National College of Arts, Alhamra and a couple of restaurants. Most of
these youngsters or younger performers, by comparison, are the progeny of
professional/hereditary musicians. They have grown up in an environment
that has been, if not hostile, indifferent to classical music in Pakistan
and have personally also experienced the hardship of their parents/elders
not being asked to perform and hence confronted with poverty, resulting in
living conditions that in no way offer adequate compensation for their
ability and commitment. It must have been firm
commitment because despite very difficult circumstances they have stuck to
their genre of music. Between derision and indifference, they have somehow
survived, which is itself a miracle but their number naturally has been on
the decline. These youngsters must have been exposed to the tension and
pressure within the families of switching on to other more popular and
sought-after forms of music. The welcome relief being that when these
youngsters were tapped by connoisseurs including the Lahore Music Forum,
they willingly performed kheyal and thumri in the tradition of their
gharanas. The professional
hereditary musicians have taken a number of positions regarding this
changing taste in music. Some have abandoned it completely while switching
to more popular forms as with Ghulam Ali, the others have split their
music into both popular and classical forms and perform as and when
required, the best example of this being Ustad Hamid Ali Khan who has
maintained some kind of a balance; still others have remained faithful to
the classical forms but by making some changes within that format. Shafqat
Ali Khan can be considered a likely choice in this regard. The youngsters who have
performed in the various concerts have been Muslim Ali the grandson of
Ustad Ghulam Hasan Shaggan, Nayaab Ali/Inam Ali the sons of Ustad Hamid
Ali Khan, Ahmed Raza the grandson of Hussain Buksh Dhaddi, Chand Khan/Suraj
Khan the sons of Hussain Buksh Gullo, Akbar Ali/Amanat ali the son and
nephew of Ustad Mubarak Ali Khan, and Karam Abbas/Ali Wasim Abbas the sons
of Ahmed Ali. Some of the performers
were also invited to perform in more than one concert. The idea was to
assess whether some difference in their music according to the general
guidelines of the Lahore Music Forum had taken place. Since the younger
vocalists and instrumentalists have been the focus of this initiative,
they were made to perform after a reasonable interval. According to the
organisers they have seen some shades of change, positive change, in the
performance of the youngsters over this period and are hence hopeful. The awareness and
appreciation of classical forms of music has become restricted to a small
minority of experts but the desire or the pressure has been to appeal to a
larger segment of the population. This has created a discrepancy and it
seems that true appreciation of music and its mass appeal are not on the
same page. In a democratic age, with means of communication enhanced
million times over by technological breakthroughs, and a new world order
in culture based on the coming together of cultural expressions of the
regions, indeed continents, the expectation has shifted to a musical
expression that was more eclectic in character. Lack of patronage and
hence dwindling audiences forced the classical practitioner to appeal to
the people at large by inundating it with virtuosity and technical
difficulties that stood apart from the total expectation and appeal of the
performance. This happened more in Pakistan than in India because the
change here has been abrupt; while in India some sections including the
state moved in to facilitate an interface between the shifting patterns of
patronage. The Punjab gawayas and
the Punjab gaiki has always been forceful, full of aggression and
violence, replete with very intricate tans, subtle laikari and an
exuberance that cannot be contained and expressed in the gradual unfolding
of the raag in the slow tempo, the vilampat lai. This forcefulness is
perceived to be the natural expression of the people living in the Punjab.
It makes them and their music different from other areas of the
subcontinent and any change has been taken as curbing their style. The well-established
ustads like Fateh Ali Khan Hyderabadi, Naseeruddin Saami, Ustad Ghulam
Hasan Shaggan, Mubarak Ali Khan and Shafqat Ali Khan have also performed
at the various concerts organised by the Lahore Arts Forum. In the concert
held last week at Alhamra, Ustad Ghulam Hasan Shaggan sang some of the
choicest bandishes in shankara, bhopali, gaur sarang and malkauns despite
his advancing age and poor health demonstrating reet ki gaiki which is now
almost a part of history. Fahim Mazhar and Aliya
Rashid (one of the very few exponents of the dhrupad) have also performed
during the course of the last few months. Among the instrumentalists and
accompanists Sajid Ali, Dhani, Muhammed Aslam, Shabbir Jhari have
displayed their skills on the tabla and harmonium, Shafqat Ali and Zobaib
on the sarangi, a dying instrument that needs to be revived desperately
and Sabir as always on the tanpura. As told, the Lahore
Music Forum was set up for a year and its continuation depended on the
results that it achieved in the year. This initiative of about ten
concerned members, mostly living outside of Pakistan who contribute on a
regular basis, is noble and it is hoped that it is backed by tenacity and
patience to see it successfully through a long haul.
Dear
All, A long time ago, in a
land far away, a group of soldiers sat together and decided they had to
save their country from ruin. They were fearful, they feared that the
wicked witch of the east would soon take over their country by casting a
spell over all the people and making them vote for her. The group decided they
could not possibly let this happen. They made a plan: they would get
anybody who was not on the witch’s side to join together and present a
unified front to all the witch’s spells and magical charm. So they
travelled the length and breadth of the land and rounded up all the men
who felt frightened of the witch’s words and who also wished to defeat
her. All the men stood
together on a large stage. They joined hands and raised their arms
triumphantly towards the heavens. The flash bulbs went off one after
another, freezing their image forever. The one with the beard stood next
to the one with no hair, the one with the turban stood next to the
dictator’s son. They were together, united in their purpose of saving
their land and defeating the witch of the east. But they also needed
assistance, so the group provided them with any help they could, they gave
them advice and gold, they gave them advisors experienced in various black
arts, they gave them smear masters and rumour mongers. The Front stood, united,
on stage after stage, addressed gathering after gathering, shouted out
speech after speech. And they all joined hands and raised their arms
triumphantly towards the heavens. They tried to tell the people how wicked
the witch was, they tried to tell them how dangerous she was, they
reminded them she was....a woman! The group gave them more sacks of gold
and the smear masters took out buckets of mud and filth and hurled it at
images of the witch and of her spouse and of her mother. But the witch had cast a
magical spell over the people of the land. Despite all the mud, and
despite that wall of men together on stage, shoulder to shoulder with
triumphantly raised arms, many of the people of the land went and voted
for her and their votes made a mockery of all that the group had worked so
hard for. The group despaired, the land must be saved from the witch, the
land must be saved from her and also from the evil enemy next door! They doubled their
efforts to destroy her magic. They called her a traitor and a murderer and
a thief and they brought in truckloads of filth to hurl at her spouse. But
again they despaired: they worked so hard and yet she and her family could
not be eliminated, they were like a malignant cancer that could not be
eradicated from the pure land. The group worked and
worked and worked, they worked tirelessly over the years because they knew
they had to save their country — but still the witch’s magic charmed
the crowds and her memory continued to rouse them to revolt even after she
was no longer there. But then one day, so
many years later when they saw the memory of the magic was still there,
the group decided they needed to act again. They needed another Front
— a new Front. And even though the one with no hair was not with
them now, they had one with hair, lots of hair. And even though the one
with the beard was no longer with them, they now had one with no beard.
And they had the young ones, the ones who had no memory of the magic. The
ones who would carry the Front forward. And so it came to be
that the one with hair climbed up on a stage and called for men to join
him in his struggle. And men joined him. And they stood side by side and
raised their linked hands up triumphantly towards the heavens, telling
everybody in the land that they would save them. They would save them from
the cult of the witch of the east. They invoked the powers of God and
prayed together loudly and publicly. They were men, fearless men, men who
prayed, men who loved their country. They knew they would win, they knew
they would save their country. They knew this because the land had been
sanitised: it had been dusted with a powerful anti-History chemical and
now most of the people, particularly the young ones had no knowledge of
the past, no memory of that early Front. They would have no memory of the
magic, and no memory of the mud. Umber
Khairi |
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benefit. Those letters were written with utter conviction and somehow gave
me hope that someone, somewhere wanted to know of what we were going
through here.” 
people to submit to charges of their alliance with the Taliban. In fact,
we demand that they should focus their energies on capturing the true
culprits of the movement,” says an adamant Malalai. 
nse
from him, because anything new in the realm of art is not completely
unforeseen. The artist with his training and capabilities tackles a fresh
entity, modifies it in such a way that it is linked to both new and old;
his past and present.
language. Ayesha Zulfiqar has sliced the inside of a pot, splitting the
clay, roots and plant into two halves. She has joined the two sides with
metal wires, thus alluding to the altered fate of our environment and the
encroaching industrial (man-made) elements in the domain of nature.
