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ecology MOOD STREET Town Talk chill
pill Baha’is
in the city ecology Transplant drive The city is fast losing bird life as indigenous trees are being replaced by imported ones unsuitable for local birds By Salman Rashid I was telling a relative of mine about the one dozen different species of birds that nest in my garden (and it’s a one-kanal house) and at any given time the song of twice as many species. He, a retired judge of the superior court, living in Judicial Colony near Thokar Niaz Beg was surprised that there was a total absence of birdsong in their area. I told him that the birds were missing entirely because of the absence of indigenous species of trees in the locality. The entire colony is choc-a-bloc with all sorts of exotic trees. There is not a single peepul, neem, amaltas, to name only a few. Ornithologists tell us
that Lahore was home to no fewer than a hundred and seventy different
species of birds until the mid-seventies. In the latter part of that
decade, flight and cabin crews of the national carrier began to flood this
unfortunate land with all sorts of ornamental shrubs and trees from the
Far East. Ignorant and foolish, these people only had their eye on the
huge profits to be gleaned from the sale of this contraband. That was also the time of the establishment of such residential areas as Iqbal Town and sundry other ‘societies’ in south Lahore as well as of Defense Housing Authority. Vast tracts of real and ancient forest were cleared; roads and housing came up and with them a new forest of shrubs and araucaria – this import being the most popular in those days. Not that this was the first alien invasion. We had earlier seen the clearing of indigenous trees to plant the Australian water-guzzling eucalyptus and the pretty alstonia. Mark: birds were singularly repelled by both species. However, over the decades, crows and pied mynas (the latter very rarely) have taken to nesting in eucalyptus mainly for want of any other species. But very strangely, I have never ever seen any specie of bird nesting or even roosting in alstonia. The result was that our birds began to leave Lahore for forest and scrub outside the city. The disease of preferring exotic tree species over our own was matched by yet another sickness: the preference for ornamental shrubbery in place of real trees. One example that I know of is the Anjuman e Himayat e Islam premises in Lahore that was home to many magnificent hundred year-old trees. In the 1980s or shortly after, they were all chopped down by one very, very foolish man and replaced by shrubbery. Thousands of birds that thrived on those trees in the heart of smoggy Lahore were banished and part of the lungs of the city destroyed. Roads in all the new residential societies were planted with either eucalyptus or alstonia; houses only with some little shrubbery. The 21st century rolled around and we discovered some more useless species to replace our own. This was the age of ficus and ashoka. Today, every new road is adorned with these absolutely worthless trees. To anyone who understood
ecology, this was the making of a disaster. But importers of these exotic
species were only concerned with the profits to be had. Having spoken to
at least three importers, I have learned that they have not even the
faintest clue of ecology. The Forest Department nursery on Ravi Road
stocks indigenous plants and sells saplings for one rupee a piece. Twice,
the officer in charge, seeing my concern for the loss of our trees, even
refused to take any money for the few dozen trees I obtained. Yet the
average person will not go there. Instead he will blight his home with
ficus. One importer of exotic species with connections to the ruling party in Punjab has meanwhile become a billionaire selling exotic species. His links permitting him free run with the Parks and Horticulture Authority gives him room to sell exotic shrubbery and miniature palm trees for a preposterous six-figure price. Damn the ecology of Lahore. Lucre is the God and birdsong can go to hell. We have seen example of these pricey plants in the green spaces leading up to the Saggian Bridge from the Ring Road in north Lahore. The Ring Road in the south and near the airport is similarly blighted. Indeed that vast over a hundred acres of open space in front of the airport is a sad, arid and shadeless desert contaminated with the rubbish of imported shrubbery. And now recently we were told that the government had uprooted five hundred and some trees to widen the canal road. In the stead of these lost trees, we are being promised ten times more. I assure you that as surely as night follows day and as surely as we have been blighted by a lack of foresight and understanding over the past six decades, we are going to have five thousand imported trees along the canal. This will nicely put the politically-connected importer of exotic rubbish up by Rs 500 million and Lahore the poorer for birdsong. The sad thing is that PHA is run by general duty bureaucrats who have no clue of ecology. In any case, a bureaucrat is hand maiden to the political master and what the master says goes. Consequently, bureaucratic ineptitude and sycophantic compliance are killing the birds and turning Lahore into a green desert.
MOOD STREET My American-born cousin, during a trip to Pakistan, came grinning out of the CD shop and excitedly told us that he had ‘bargained’ with the shopkeeper. Thrilled with this achievement, he recounted the short dialogue. The shopkeeper had with alacrity agreed to the offer and my cousin, not being very familiar with Urdu numbers, had ended up paying extra. I have lived in Pakistan all my life, but cannot claim to be any better: I remember a friend teasing me while I was counting in Urdu the words in an essay, ‘What will you do when you get to 20?’ That was Grade 9 and only one student could count to fifty. Most, like me, stopped at twenty, for that’s how far we had been taught in junior school. See, learning Urdu numbers is arduous for there are a hundred different words to learn for the first hundred numbers, unlike those of the English language which are repetitive. I know that I will be incapable of buying fruits from the rehri walas lining the streets. I also know that if I really want to learn them, I only have to put my mind to it. Practice makes perfect. It is just a matter of giving up a few minutes of lazing around. But I don’t try. Frankly, it does not matter to me. Why? Well, for starters, proficiency in Urdu isn’t going to get me anywhere in the world. In fact, it isn’t going to get me anywhere in Pakistan. I understand that it is only English that will get me into a good university abroad, and here. So why would I waste my time and energies on a language which no one under thirty today is proud of knowing and which definitely isn’t going to get me much credit? They say that language is your identity. Not knowing Urdu, and more importantly, not desiring any improvement either, clearly represents the identity crisis every Pakistani youngster is going through today. You don’t need to look any further for proofs that we are, slowly but surely, sinking and losing everything, our very past, traditions, culture and values as well as our patriotism. Whether you blame it on TV and the influx of western influences or not, the only sound fact is that it is happening. The root problem, in my opinion, is that we aren’t proud of our country. How can we be, the way things are going today? When I was abroad, I didn’t want others to know my nationality. I didn’t want to be viewed as an extremist or a terrorist. So why would I blame anybody for not flaunting and taking pride in their lingual identity? It would be hypocritical of me. Schools, which mould children, are also responsible for this gaping hole in our vocabulary. Years ago, my mother, during a meeting with my brother’s teacher at his school, requested for help with Urdu as she herself, having studied abroad, could not guide him. The Urdu teacher asked her not to worry for it wasn’t that important a subject. Urdu is a mandatory O’level subject in most schools but many students opt for Urdu B and thus, academically, make Urdu their second language. They know that the thick novel, poems and gazals will be hard to cope with when they are aiming for As in 8 or more subjects. After all, nobody wants a B in the report card to spoil the overall effect, even if it is in an attempt to excel in their mother tongue. The senior school library of my school had hardly any Urdu books; almost all the shelves were graced by names like JK Rowling, Stephen King and Dan Brown. Only Urdu past papers were visible. No wonder then that now I find reading (cramped) Urdu newspapers and books a chore; it takes ages due to lack of practice, and thus imparts no pleasure. How can the interest in Urdu books stay afloat in this flood of English books? Ah well, the issue is not why children today don’t read Urdu books. Everywhere, with the introduction of other forms of entertainment, the habit of book reading is slowly fading away. The issue is that why aren’t our children armed with a basic skill – the ability to buy things. If you start a French course, the first lesson will deal with numbers and the third one will teach you about what to say in a shop. It is a ridiculous and shameful situation. Why does this new generation, which is well versed in everything from World History to the minute functioning of the heart, not know the numbers in their own mother tongue? What is education? It is supposed to prepare us for life. And if it isn’t guarding our youngsters from making the same bargain my (American-born) cousin did and is not protecting them from becoming open victims to monetary fraud, in their own homeland, then all of these educational institutes for which countless parents dish out vast amounts of money daily, aren’t exactly up to mark. Yes, English is everywhere, on the placard outside the store and in the library. But it will take quite some time yet for rehri walas to start spewing out English figures. And at present, I can’t exactly walk up to him and expect him to translate saath into English for me and my friends.
Children’s Festival and bookfair at Oxford Bookshop today from 10am-8pm. Exhibition titled Art of Calligraphy at Rivers Gallery. Timing: 5-8pm. Play: Oscar by LCAS on Oct 17 at Ali Institute at 5:45pm. Drama Festival till Oct 24 at Alhamra Arts Council, The Mall. Play: Ajj Akkhan Waris Shah Noou on Sat, Oct 22 at 5:00 pm at Alhamra Arts Council, The Mall. Sufi Tabassum Art Academy will present the play in Youth Performing Arts Festival 2011. Solo exhibition of Basir Mahmood at Grey Noise from Sept 29-Oct 22. MAG Judges & Coaches Course October, 2011 Lahore, Oct 01- 30 This is my story: Dialogue with Pakistan at Zahoor-ul Akhlaq Gallery, NCA from October 11-20
chill
pill If one believes that a doctor is the one responsible for prescribing medicines to patients suffering from several diseases then the city denies holding onto this cliché. If a doctor denies writing a prescription, then knock on any one of the pharmacy doors in Lahore and you wouldn’t return heartbroken. In order to understand and distinguish this mystical position that these pharmacists enjoy, one thing is for sure, a role needs to be defined. Pharmacists are experts on drug therapy and are the primary healthcare professionals who optimise medication to provide patients with positive health outcomes and provide them with prescribed medicines. Today’s problem is a
very complex and a multi-faceted one. It starts off from the prescription
written by pharmacists without any referral from a doctor and extends onto
the other cheap substitutes provided by them and it ends on people’s
positive approach to succumb to cheap alternatives. In order to evaluate
an opinion, it was important to observe these acts on different grounds. At one of the most well established pharmacies in Cantt, a pharmacist says, “We don’t believe in providing people medicines without prescription but sometimes even we are compelled to give them when they flaunt a long list of references. We love our job”. On the another hand people such as Hamza reject it openly by saying, “We are not trained to prescribe and it’s not our job.” In many countries such as England, a pharmacy could be reported if it provides any kind of drug without doctor’s consent. In many cities such as Manchester, a ‘mystery customer’ is often sent to pharmacies to test whether or not the pharmacies hold onto their respective stance or provide cheap drugs on little insistence. As far as the patients are concerned, people such as Daniyal say, “At times one forgets to carry his reports or a doctor’s prescription so it isn’t a big thing to go for medicines such as Phenobarbetone.” On researching this drug in detail, it was found that many drug addicts use it as a supplement while smoking marijuana. Some even use it to get high while consuming alcohol. This very much shows us how pharmacists act oblivious to the harms that these drugs pose to patients at large. Doctor Aamir Ikram even went on to say, “It’s sad how someone could go for adulteration when he alleges to work sincerely while taking oath to protect human lives, which are at stake.” Many young pharmacists who stick to the moral high ground that pharmacists should be sincere to their profession, negate the idea of even suggesting any medicinal drug that poses direct harm to the patient. It’s not only essential to identify a problem but give its solution too. Awais, studying law and
philosophy at Harvard, shared his views on this issue with TNS. He says
that not only is it the responsibility of the state to introduce measures
such as offering licenses but also to impose checks and balances such as
checking documents which could refer to the stocks bought for different
medicines. In this way, we could ensure that no medicinal drug purchased
is being led into wrong hands with only pharmacist’s consent. On another occasion, Dr. Ejaz pointed out that this assumption is flawed. He says, “Let’s take into account one occasion where a person today might feel nausea and experience temperature. He would go to a pharmacist instead of a doctor and get a medicine such as Brufen. If someone in Lahore does this today, he might die if he is suffering from dengue or further exacerbate the situation by killing more platelets.” In most jurisdictions (such as the United States), pharmacists are regulated separately from physicians. These jurisdictions also usually specify that only pharmacists may supply scheduled pharmaceuticals to the public, and that pharmacists cannot form business partnerships with physicians or give them ‘kickback’ payments. However, the American Medical Association (AMA) Code of Ethics provides that physicians may dispense drugs within their office practices as long as there is no patient exploitation and patients have the right to a written prescription that can be filled elsewhere. 7 to 10 percent of American general practitioners reportedly dispense drugs on their own. If the system is well regulated even in a country such as Pakistan, effective change can take place. This margin for exploitation is further widened when patients don’t believe in prescriptions and resort to a ‘chill pill’.
Baha’is
in the city It’s a grey gate, guarding a white double storey building. Situated in a small street next to the Ganga Ram Hospital, this is the only Baha’i centre in Lahore. This is also where the Baha’i Local Spiritual Assembly, Lahore Chapter, the administrative body of the Baha’i community in Lahore meets and makes important decisions. The Baha’i faith, which originated in the 19th century Iran, theologically tries to unite all the religions of the world, as being sent by one God, and treats all the prophets and avatars of various religions, like Jesus Christ, Buddha, Krishna and Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) as true messengers of God. The Baha’i faith derives its name from Hazrat Bahaullah, who founded this religion. The move towards the founding of the religion, however, began with his predecessor, Hazrat Bab, a Shia Muslim, who claimed to be the 12th Imaam, Mehdi. Hazrat Bahaullah became one of his early followers and later the founder of the Baha’i faith. Both the men used the concept of second-coming in the major religions of the world to legitimise themselves being sent by God. For example the concept of Mehdi Imaam (the invisible leader) in Shiia Islam, the second-coming of Christ in Christianity, the avatar of Buddha in Buddhism and Krishna in Hinduism. Hazrat Bahaullah claimed that he represented the second coming as was promised by all these religions. He then declared his followers to be Baha’i and laid the foundation of this new religion. As is the history of all religions, this new faith was, also attacked. This time by the government of the Iran; this resulted in the migration of the Bahaullah. Eventually, he came and settled in a city called Akka (present day Israel), where he was a prisoner of the Ottoman Empire. He died there and his shrine was made there. Shoghi Effendi, the great grandson of Hazrat Bahaullah, was the 3rd leader of this new religion, following his grandfather and the son of Hazrat Bahaullah, Hazrat Abdul Baha’i. Shoghi Effendi, who was a student at Oxford University, when he was called for his religious obligations, institutionalised the administration of the community, as he felt that a lack of it would result in the formation of various sects. The organisational structure is elaborate and unnecessary to discuss here, but simply put there is a Universal House of Justice, based in Haifa, Israel, which is the head organisation. Then in every country where there are Baha’is, is a National Spiritual Assembly. The one for Pakistan is in Islamabad. Then every city, which has a considerable Baha’i population, needs to have a Local Spiritual Assembly (LSA). There is one in Lahore, with its office near Ganga Ram. All communication, including media correspondence, administration, civic and political concerns, educational and philanthropic activities take place in the Local Spiritual Assemblies. Recently I had the opportunity to attend a community event at the Baha’i centre, after attaining permission from the LSA. We were, however, barred from taking any photograph or record interviews. The gathering was the monthly feast, which takes place after the end of every month. Traditionally all the Baha’is living in a city are encouraged to come to the event, however given the daily life routine it is not possible for everyone to do that. The Baha’i month is of 19 days, with 19 months in a year. This calendar was given by Hazrat Bahaullah himself. At the end of every month the entire community is encouraged to sit together for a feast. Besides food the community also shares holy readings, administrative issues, and other concerns with each other. Just as we walked in from the gate, we were welcomed by pleasant smiles of a small group of people, gathered in the garage, where the proceedings were supposed to be. Chairs were placed around a round table towards one end. On the other side was a dining table, where later the feast was to be. Next to it was the kitchen where the family responsible for hosting the feast of the day was busy making arrangements. I later found out that the Assembly picks up one family every month, which then makes arrangements for the food. In this way they rotate in between all the families. The feast included various fruits, fruit chaat, pakoras and jalebis. While we stood in a corner, trying to acquaint ourselves with the place, two young people, a boy and a girl came up to us and greeted us. The boy, about 20, a student of the Lahore University of Management Sciences (LUMS), introduced himself as Saeed Boor. The girl, also in her early 20s, introduced herself as Hoyaam Kariman. Saeed explained to me the Baha’i faith and the significance of the monthly feast. He told me that his father is a member of the LSA, and he himself is a member of the Program Committee. He explained to me that a Program Committee was formed by the LSA to arrange various Baha’i programmes around the year, including one that was being celebrated on that particular day. He told me that the Baha’i community encourages young people like himself to take part in the administration. Amongst the 9 members of the LSA is also the 26 years old Ruhkaam Kariman. Hoyaam is the in-charge for arranging educational and prayer circles around the city; a tradition that the Baha’i community follows to give spiritual and civic education to the community. The students here are not only Baha’is but also from other religions. Saeed told me there are about 150 registered Baha’is in Lahore, excluding children under 15, and this is the only centre where all of them gather. The community seems to be economically stable. All the male folk wore a shirt and trousers, whereas the females wore stylish shalwar kameez, and jewelry. A lot of them had short hair cuts, meant to symbolize modern values. Our young hosts conversed with us in English. Both of them confirmed that people around Lahore are generally not aware of the faith. However, they complained of prejudice from a certain segment of the Muslim community. Hoyaam said that when a few girls at her college found out that she was a non-Muslim, during Ramzan, they distanced themselves from her. Similarly, Saeed also said that even at an elite school in Lahore when a few boys found out about his religious identity they started distancing themselves. “The majority, however, are friendly,” both of them clarified. On one of the wall reads a board, “It is forbidden for the Baha’is to participate in politics.” Yousuf Bijnauri, 77 year old Baha’i from Lahore, explained to me that Hazrat Bahaullah forbade the Baha’is from taking part in politics, as it creates division within community. However, despite being apolitical, the Baha’is have been dragged into politics over and over again. One of the most recent examples has been the persecution that they had to face in Iran, following the Iranian revolution of 1979. Thousands of Baha’is migrated to Pakistan in those years. They were supported by the local community; also welcomed into the houses of the people. Bijnauri also allowed an Iranian Baha’i family to live in his house, before they moved out of the country. The 79 years old Faiz Sahib, a Baha’i at the monthly feast, explained to me that the Iranian Baha’is used Pakistan as a jumping pad to move onto other countries. They were fully supported by the Government of Pakistan during those years, he adds. Most of the Baha’is present at the gathering belonged to Iranian pedigree. However, not anyone of them was from the refugee families of 1979. Most of the families had settled in this part of India, even before partition. They were others who migrated in the 50s and 60s. There are a few Baha’is who are converts from the Ahmadiya faith, after the anti-Ahmadiya laws were passed in Pakistan, whereas others were from Shiia and Sunni backgrounds. Majority however come from Irani backgrounds. The ceremony started at about six. For an hour, various volunteer readers, after seeking permission from the convener of the meeting, came up and read a paragraph from the religious texts. The readers were both males and females, young and old. Children were also asked to come up on stage and recite poems that they had memorised. This was like a congenial family affair, as the members of the community knew each other. People of the opposite sex intermingled with each other, a common phenomenon in the social circle of Lahore. Even though the Baha’is are permitted to marry outside their religion, traditionally, in Lahore, they marry within themselves, as the numbers are already so low, confirmed a couple of attendees. At the end of the proceedings any member of the community is encouraged to ask any question or engage in any discussion of religious and spiritual matters. No one had anything to say on this particular occasion. Food was served following the ceremony and the proceeding for the day was over, to repeat itself, once again, after 19 days. The writer works as the Minority Director for ‘The Citizens Archive of Pakistan’ (CAP).
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