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    visit Simplicity
   of everyday life 
 
 
 
 
 
 visit Just an hour’s
   drive away from where King Phillip II of Macedonia is buried stands a
   towering bronze statue of his son, Alexander the Great, riding a horse. It
   overlooks the serene Aegean Sea and has been placed at the heart of a city
   named after King Phillip II’s daughter. A few hundred metres away, a much
   smaller statue of King Phillip II himself guards the entrance into one of the
   three main commercial streets running through the city centre.  Nearby, in the shadows of a
   cylindrical-shaped building, a boat bobs aimlessly in the sea. A telecom
   tower rises into the sky not far from the grounds of the Aristotle
   University. A renovated building, in one of the streets behind the Aristotle
   University, reminds the visitors of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, since he was born
   in one of its rooms.  The city with such beauty
   and history is Thessaloniki. This is the second largest city in Greece. I fell in love with
   Thessaloniki the first time I visited it, back in August 2007. After
   attending to matters official, I spent a night in the tiny room of Park Hotel
   that overlooked an open plot with some recently unearthed excavations. Early
   next morning, with some time to kill before catching the train back to
   Athens, I ventured into the nearby city centre which was just coming to life.
   A downward sloping street soon took me down to the seaside and a longish
   paved waterfront. To the east, in the distance, under an early morning sun
   beginning its journey up into the late summer sky, a cylindrical structure
   beckoned me. Endless rows of apartment blocks lined the road that ran
   parallel to the waterfront. With not much time at my disposal, I strolled
   only a short distance but found the walk particularly soothing and
   mesmerising.  A walk on that waterfront
   became a must on all my subsequent visits to Thessaloniki. In the next few years, I
   visited Thessaloniki frequently to attend many of the trade fairs and
   exhibitions and so had the opportunity of exploring the city in much detail.
   One such trade fair, the Thessaloniki International Fair, held every
   September, is the largest such event not only in Greece but also in the
   entire Balkan area.  It used to attract a large
   number of Pakistani companies until 2012.  The Thessaloniki
   International Fair remains the face not only of Thessaloniki but of the
   entire country. Held in the sprawling fair grounds just a stone’s throw
   away from the sea and Alexander’s towering statue, it is a perfect gauge of
   how the Greek economy is doing. Roaming in the endless halls displaying
   products from Greece and beyond, dodging hordes of visitors from nearby
   Bulgaria and Serbia and examining Turkish and Egyptian trinkets is an
   education itself.  Outside, the rather bland
   blocks of Aristotle University, named after that great philosopher from the
   Greek classical era who was also the tutor of Alexander the Great, hover
   across the road from the north gates of the fair. The city rises gently up
   over the hills behind the University on towards Panorama, a chic locality
   nestled in the midst of dense foliage, with breathtaking views of the
   shimmering waters of the Aegean Sea.  Not far from the Aristotle
   University is the birthplace of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. The property is now
   part of the Turkish consulate in the city. The actual house where Ataturk was
   born, lies in the back lawns of the consulate and has been preserved as a
   museum. Although the southern part
   of Greece, including Athens, freed itself from the Ottoman rule in the 1820s,
   Thessaloniki and the surrounding regions continued to be a part of the
   Ottoman Empire for almost another century. Events after the First World War
   brought to an end the Ottoman Empire with Mustafa Kemal Ataturk laying the
   foundations of the modern Turkish state.  The two countries, Turkey
   and Greece, parted ways in a manner not dissimilar to that of India and
   Pakistan, with mass migrations and horrifying accounts of killings, loot and
   plunder. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk’s
   house in Thessaloniki, however, continues to be a reminder of those
   tumultuous days almost a century back and the role played by him in changing
   the history of the region. A smartly dressed official of the Turkish
   consulate accompanies all visitors to the house and watches silently as they
   take keen interest in the myriad framed photographs that grace the walls and
   admire the personal belongings of the icon of the modern Turkish nation. South of the Turkish
   consulate, three parallel roads — Egnatia, Tsimiski and Leoforos Nikis —
   pierce the heart of the city and cut across the Aristotelous Square which is
   surrounded by elegant hotels and stylish restaurants. It is the preferred
   place of all demonstrators, protestors and election rallies. A maze of
   traditional bazaars punctuates the three roads, offering glimpses of the city
   before the onslaught of globalisation.  Egantia, the northern most
   road runs past Roman-era ruins and orthodox Greek churches, large and small.
   Few traces of Ottoman-era buildings survive in the city — a largely
   dilapidated domed building partly visible behind advertising hoardings and
   construction material is perhaps the best remnant of the era.  Tsimiski is the main
   commercial road in the city — home to outlets of major global brands,
   offices of the Thessloniki Chamber of Commerce and Industry as well as many
   of the trademark Thessaloniki eateries and bakeries.  Thessaloniki is
   particularly known throughout Greece for its wide variety of delicious sweets
   and bakery produc On the other side of
   Tsimiski, partly hidden behind a kiosk, a periptero, is Pata Fristas, the
   only outlet I found in Greece that actually sells fish and chips — thus my
   preferred eating place in the city! The southernmost road, the
   Leoforos Nikis, initially attracted me to the city. It is this road that runs
   parallel to the sea, from the Thessaloniki port in the west to the White
   Tower — that cylindrical building — to the east. Walking on the pavement
   along Leoforos Nikis, the charms of the inner city recede and an overwhelming
   feeling of openness and vastness takes over. Leoforos Nikis ends at the
   White Tower, the unambiguous symbol of Thessaloniki. The tower is stated to
   have been a part of the city walls since sometime in the 12th century, but
   the present structure is attributed to the Ottomans who used it as a garrison
   as well as a prison. A spiral ramp leads up to each of its six floors which
   now house a permanent exhibition depicting different eras of Thessaloniki’s
   history. A platform at the top of the tower affords stunning views of the
   endless apartment blocks rising up over the hills on the one side and a
   handful of oil tankers waiting in the choppy waters for their turn to move
   into the port on the other. The writer can be reached
   at amsumra@gmail.com 
 
 
 Simplicity
   of everyday life Arriving at
   Kathmandu airport on a cold evening in the last week of November 2012, I had
   no idea what to expect from the city.  On the road from the
   airport to the Park Village Hotel in Budhanilkantha, a village-like resort
   located at a short distance from Kathmandu, I saw deprivation, dust, broken
   roads — and people, wearing woollen caps to keep warm.  Lanterns and candles lit up
   the shops as the city was shrouded in darkness due to loadshedding.  Soon after arriving at the
   hotel, I decided to walk around the area, despite being warned about the lack
   of security, and discovered the other side of Nepal.  I found the shopkeepers to
   be cordial, warm, welcoming and friendly. They talked to me in Urdu-Hindi,
   the kind of language used in Indian films. A female shopkeeper selling
   chokhatis (a mat to sit and meditate on) and shoes made of parali (dried hay)
   explained to me the art of her craft.  The next morning I went to
   Vishnu temple to experience mystique and calmness and saw devotees offering
   flowers and food in abundance.  Later, walking through the
   streets of Kathmandu and Bhaktapur, I did not feel like a stranger. I was
   enthralled to see women of all ages in the streets, bazars and shopping
   malls; they rode bikes and sat on temple stairs with men, talking softly
   about things known only to them. I spotted some older women sit by their
   tharras (stops), gossiping with older men.  In addition to these, I was
   taken in by many other aspects of life in Nepal.  Nepalese love to listen to
   music. The minibuses, shops and cafes reverberated with Nepalese and Indian
   songs, just like our cafes and restaurants of Shah Alami and Pakki Thatthi in
   Lahore. I saw the CDs of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Abida Perveen, Mehdi Hasan
   and Rahat Fateh Ali Khan at many musical stores. Many people I talked to were
   familiar with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.  I was particularly
   impressed by the arrangement of colourful oil lamps made of wheat flour by a
   young Nepalese girl in a temple in Bhaktapur. It reminded me of a scene from
   Indian film ‘Devdas’ and Shah Hussain’s shrine in Lahore. Oil lamps and fire are
   essential to the lives of Nepalese. At Pashupatinath’s temple near the
   Kathmandu airport, on the banks of the sacred Bhagmati River, fire festival
   is held every evening by the devotees. Woods and essences are burnt in large
   bonfires while music is played to take the devotees in a trance-like state.  Animals are treated well at
   Pashupatinath’s temple. The title Pashupatinath means ‘protector of
   animals’. In history, Punjabis were known as Pashupalan which means the
   caretakers or breeders of animals.  A visit to the meditation
   place of Gorakhnath, who was a Punjabi saint in the 11th century, at
   Pashupatinath’s temple, highlights strong intellectual and spiritual links
   between Punjab and ancient Nepal. A number of kanphata yogis, who pierce
   their ears to initiate into Gorakhnath’s kanphata yogi school, were
   meditating in the sunlight. It is also interesting to note that Ranjha, a
   symbol of love in Punjab, was also said to be a part of kanphata yogis.  In Lumbini, near the
   birthplace of Gautama — the Buddha — I participated in a big congregation
   of monks taking place in the morning. The highlight really came towards noon
   when the monks distributed bread and chai (tea) to thousands of their
   fellows.  At the Mayawati temple,
   devotees worshipped the peepal tree under which Gautama took birth. Some took
   its leaves with them for blessings. Many devotees visiting shrines in Punjab
   and Sindh also take leaves of the shrine trees with them.  All trees in the Mayawati
   temple were adorned with colourful jhandis (mini flags). It was a surprise
   for me to learn about the Buddhist origins of jhandis used so commonly at
   shrines in Pakistan. 
 
 
 
 
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