Go for the horses, don’t mind the plot. Watch The Lone Ranger because you have to, and because it was filmed in over 16 stunning, sweeping desert-to-mountain New Mexico locations. But mind it, your world will seem small when you walk out of the cinema.

In the latest cinematic interpretation of these fictional American icons, Armie Hammer plays Lone Ranger John Reid and Johnny Depp applies his by-now stock eccentricity to the sidekick Tonto, a Native American looking for revenge. The story is hinged on the transformation of Reid from a man of the law to an outlaw. He arrives on the scene a principled attorney who believes in bringing criminals to book rather than bumping them off. He even refuses to carry a gun. But the brutal murder of his Texas Ranger brother changes this.

Unfortunately, the film’s makers picked and chose snippets from popular legend but did not give them context, without which we are left scratching our heads. A character becomes real when we know their motivations and what obstacles set them back. This is why, when Reid’s brother is killed, you feel nothing because the character has not settled with us. And if this murder is the entire premise for the Lone Ranger’s transformation, the crux of the plot is on shaky ground.

It doesn’t help that there is a lot of background noise surrounding the main plot. It is difficult to know whether we need to concentrate on the subthemes of colonial expansion and racism at a time when the railways were being laid through Native American land.

Similarly disappointing is the expectation set up that the supernatural elements in the film — accursed rocks, psychic white horses and a dead bird as a millinery accessory — would deliver on the magic they promise. Without some depth, they are reduced to comic flashpoints.

If it were not for the Hammer-Depp chemistry on screen and the well-choreographed action sequences, the film would be a drag, all 149 minutes of it. Indeed, the film is so long that you want to fast forward to the parts with Tonto because those are the only half-decent scenes. Depp’s exaggerated make-up and quirky sarcastic one-liners punctuate the action-packed scenes with humour. He channels Chaplin in the chases and getaways, clinging to the undercarriage of a moving train whose car has been set loose, walking pigeon-footed on the top of the carriage, suddenly appearing on a ladder between two moving trains.

The Lone Ranger of 2013 seems to suffer from a lack of belief in itself. Produced by the team behind super hits such as the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy, the film sets the bar high, but falls short of its own expectations. But one thing’s for sure, for a film that advises you to “never take off the mask”, it would have done itself a favour by not hiding behind a weak plot.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 1^st, 2013.

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Swaying under a shimmering disco ball is a young girl dressed in a boho-chic outfit, clutching on to a bottle of our well-loved Pakola. And taking his place beside her, dressed in a gypsy-style outfit, is an Elvis Presley lookalike, high on life with a sitar in one hand and a beer bottle in the other.

While this could very well be a scene out of a 70s-inspired music video, it is actually an animated image, illustrated by Sana Nasir and screen-printed onto a faux leather clutch bag. This one, among many others, was featured at Sidra Nasir’s ‘All things Pakistani’ bag exhibition held on the 66th Independence Day of Pakistan and could be yours for Rs7,000.

After the pre-election fever of Karma’s MK Nation kurta, that had every woman wearing Imran Khan close to her heart, Sidra’s bags are paying a tribute to all things that constitute Pakistani culture. “‘All things Pakistani’ to me is all forms of art around Pakistan and everything fun and colourful that [our country] has to offer. Be it pottery from Hala, truck art, the Ajrak or even traditional embellishments,” says Sidra, who has used this aesthetic to create a colourful array of clutches and cross-body bags.

With an undergraduate degree in fashion design from the Asian Institute of Fashion Design, Karachi, Sidra ventured into bags five years ago. “I felt there was a need in the market for accessory designers, as most people who I target were buying their bags abroad,” she explains. In contrast to her previous four exhibitions, Sidra stayed close to her roots for inspiration this time. Her exhibit ranged from a literal depiction which included weaving the Pakistani flag on to a clutch and screen printing the map of Pakistan, to more subtle elements such as intricate mirror-work embroidery and ethnic brooches. Her camo clutch with skull detail was such a knockout that every piece was sold out by the end of the exhibition.

“I have always appreciated and enjoyed Pakistani arts and crafts, however I was never drawn towards buying traditional designs available in the market,” she says. “I felt that they were too direct in terms of design and not so much inspiration.” Sidra’s aim was to incorporate everything Pakistani with a modern and chic twist into her designs, with her personal favourite being the turquoise clutch, embellished with lace and a blue pendant. “I love this piece because it is traditional in the material that has been used, and paired with a modern, western outfit it adds just the right amount of desi to the look without being too obvious.”

While catering to a fashion-conscious and trendy lot, Sidra ensures that her customers are never far from their homeland. “I [designed] the map bag so [that] people travelling or living abroad could proudly point out [Pakistan’s location] when asked. I thought it would be a fun way to identify where we are from without having to say it.” And as it turns out the design was one that resonated well with her customers.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 1^st, 2013.

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Where have all the militants gone? My question elicited a few amused looks and chuckles. But when he saw that it was in earnest, Vincent Kearney, BBC’s Northern Ireland home affairs correspondent, replied: “Most of them became taxi drivers.”

We were referring to the Irish Republican Army or the IRA and my education on The Troubles, or the civil war that raged in Northern Ireland for three decades (1969-1998) was taking place at the BBC’s office in Belfast*.

Throughout my visit I was stunned by the similarities with Karachi and its running sectarian and territorial wars. The more Kearney talked about Belfast, the more I felt he could have been talking about target killings, Shias, Sunnis, bomb blasts, Pathans, Mohajirs, morchas, TT pistols, funerals, protests, Sindhis. The only difference was that Northern Ireland managed to do something we have not: end the bloodshed.

Blame the British

It is beyond the scope of this story to go back in time, but it is worth mentioning how the British are linked to the Northern Ireland conflict and Karachi’s. I cannot shake the feeling that colonial rule should not be ignored.

In Ireland’s case, Catholicism has been the dominant sect ever since Saint Patrick introduced it to the island. But subsequent invasions from neighbouring England opened a chapter of sectarian discord and 700 years of colonisation. In the 1500s King Henry VIII decided to force the rival Protestant sect on Ireland’s Catholic population to quell rebellious Irish barons. He transplanted thousands of Protestant English and Scottish farmers to take over the lands of the native Catholic people.

This decision altered the fabric of Irish society. We saw the same happening in Karachi in 1947 when colonial rule ended and thousands of refugees poured over the border from India. This is not to question the merits of Partition but to simply point out that British rule and colonialism is also directly linked to the demographic shifts that changed Karachi’s fortunes forever. Mohajirs and Sindhis came to live together in one city.

In addition to Pakistan’s, the British were also responsible for the ‘Partition’ of Ireland. In 1921, after much Catholic rebellion, the British divided Ireland into six ‘Protestant’ counties in the north and 26 ‘Catholic’ ones in the south. The north became Northern Ireland and remained a part of the United Kingdom and crown. The south came to be called the independent Republic of Ireland.

As the island is still not unified, people still say that Ireland was England’s first colony and will be its last.

Divisions

Irish Catholics and Protestants thus developed their own schools, football teams, playing grounds, pubs. In Karachi, we have no-go areas. In Ireland, people could tell which side or group you belong to by your name or surname. This works in Karachi too.

In Belfast, you can tell whose turf you are on by the murals painted on houses to pay tribute to Catholic martyrs such as Bobby Sands, an IRA member and MP who died in prison on hunger strike. In Karachi, graffiti or wall-chalkings will declare who rules the area.

In both Belfast and Karachi, sectarian, political or ethnic loyalties are also declared by flags. I was curious about a Pakistan flag painted by the Protestant (Unionist) side. As the Unionists support the British government and monarchy, they were showing their support for its 54 Commonwealth countries (formerly under British rule). Pakistan has been a Commonwealth country. On the other hand, the Catholic (or nationalist or republican) side will support groups or countries that the British don’t back. This is why they put up flags of the Palestinian freedom fighters.

Karachi’s sectarian violence can be traced to 1983 when four French offices were bombed at time of tensions over France possibly selling arms to Iraq. Days later the city descended into chaos over reports that one sect wanted to build its place of worship in a rival sect’s neighbourhood. Mobs went on an arson and looting rampage and clashes with police left scores injured. Soon later, in the mid-1980s, sectarian militant outfits emerged on both sides and have since regularly shed each other’s blood on Karachi’s streets.

There are, of course, many significant differences between the IRA and the banned militant outfits (sectarian and political) that operate in Karachi. Most importantly, the IRA had declared demands and was a ‘public’ organisation, but the banned outfits in Karachi just seemed hell bent on a war of attrition, which does away with any possibility of bringing them to the negotiating table.

The violence

Northern Ireland’s civil war erupted in 1968 when rioting broke out there. British troops were brought in to restore order. But the IRA and Protestant paramilitary groups did not let go. The violence lingered into the 1990s and this period became known as The Troubles. More than 3,000 people were killed.

A surgeon in Karachi, who lived in Belfast and was training at the Royal Victoria Hospital during the 1970s, recalls the bloodshed: “There was a lot of knee-capping. They would shoot you in the knee,” he said, referring to the cases that came to the accident and emergency. “The vascular surgeons of Belfast became so good at treating it that they went on to read papers across the world on this injury.” Staff at Karachi’s Jinnah, Civil and Abbasi Shaheed hospitals will tell you the same story if you ask them about gunshot and bomb blast cases.

Aside from doctors, also on the sidelines of any conflict are journalists. In Belfast I was told that BBC struggled to figure out how best to cover the violence impartially. They used the ‘trick’ of declaring the victim’s sect — Catholic or Protestant. If there was a bombing they debated whether to say the IRA did it. The BBC eventually decided to name the IRA but this made coverage of funerals in Catholic areas especially dangerous and difficult. This same debate rages in Karachi newsrooms. Mostly journalists decide it is best to just name the victim’s ethnicity, sect or political affiliation if absolutely needed. Let the reader decide who the attacker is based on that.

Peace process

The lesson from Northern Ireland is a simple one — parties in a conflict must realise that the political process is the only way forward. This was the case with the IRA.

The first public talks began in 1994 between Sinn Féin (the political wing of the IRA) and British officials. Sinn Féin wanted the British out of Northern Ireland and the British said the IRA must first lay down its arms.

Former diplomat Jonathan Powell, the author of Great Hatred, Little Room: Making Peace in Northern Ireland, offers basic advice. ‘You can’t go forward with preconditions.’ I asked him how he thought Pakistan’s government should tackle, say the Taliban, and he referred to the British government’s persistent demand that the IRA disarm before it came to the negotiating table during Thatcher’s era. It wasn’t a formula that worked initially.

It would take over 10 years, several prime ministers and many failed rounds before both sides could claim success. Karachi has much to learn from the dogged commitment of leaders in the British government and in Ireland, despite many setbacks.

In the end, power-sharing and the political process trumped violence. Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif seems to understand this formula when it comes to a people at war with themselves. In his recent interview with The Telegraph, he said: “Britain had to talk to the IRA and resolve the problem and so to explore this option, I think, is not a bad idea.” While he referred to negotiations with the Taliban, the same approach would have to apply to Karachi.

But most of all, when the Catholics grew fed up of the bloodletting, they put pressure on the IRA to stop. Unless the people at large reject violence and withdraw support for those who perpetrate it, there cannot be peace. We seem to be missing this in Karachi. Such is the strength of people power that in 2002 the IRA issued its first apology to the families of the 650 civilians it killed since the late 1960s. Can there be peace in Karachi without truth and reconciliation?

Of course, some wounds stay raw. Today, if you hire a taxi as a tourist in Belfast, you might find that your driver is an ex-Catholic IRA militant. If you ask him to take you to a Protestant neighbourhood, he will only go as far as its ‘border’. He will hand you over to a new driver. That driver will be Protestant and he may even be an ex-militant himself.

1916

After several rebellions over the centuries, finally Irish nationalists stage the Easter Rising to declare their country an independent republic. The British crush it and execute its leaders

1921

The British partition Ireland into the independent state in the south (26 counties) and six Ulster counties in the north called Northern Ireland which remains part of the UK, under the Crown

1968

Unfair treatment of Catholics leads to a civil rights movement. In 1969, the Troubles start as rioting erupts in (London)Derry during a loyalist parade. Scores sign up with the IRA

1994

The IRA announces a ceasefire, loyalist groups follow suit. The first talks between the British government and the IRA’s political wing, Sinn Féin begin

1998

The Good Friday Agreement is signed for a political settlement for Northern Ireland

2005

IRA announces an end to its armed campaign. Sinn Féin president, Gerry Adams, wipes his brow after 10 hours  of negotiations

*Adil Jawad is a correspondent with Roznama Express and visited Belfast as part of a 14-journalist group on the Chevening South Asia Journalism Programme 2013

WITH WRITING BY MAHIM MAHER

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 1^st, 2013.

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You are either cool, or you are not. You either buy Apple or you don’t.

That is how many people see Apple and its products. You either hate it or you love it.

By the time Steve Paul Jobs died in 2011, Apple — a company he bought on the verge of bankruptcy — was the largest company in the world, with more cash reserves than the US government. His time at Apple is an incredible story of a revival of a company that he co-founded and was then forced to leave. And the products that he helped design and visualise, more often than not, demarcated cool from uncool.

But this is not just a story of business genius, creative excellence or even financial success. It is a story of love.

Let me tell you upfront that I am a fan of Steve Jobs. I am also a fan of Apple, the company as well as Apple products. I thought I would clear this up at the start just so that no one can accuse me of any bias later on. But I am telling you that I really am biased and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I am being honest.

In many ways Steve Jobs was like that. He was a passionate, focused and driven individual who changed so many things in so many ways. He changed our lives on micro as well as macro levels. But he was not a nice person. In fact, some say that he often took great pleasure in making sure people knew that they were inferior to him. He was no angel, and no hero. He was also just as responsible for Apple’s failure in his first stint there, as he was responsible for Apple’s resounding success in his second stint at the company. The movie Jobs, which has just hit cinemas in Pakistan, unfortunately ignores the first part of his journey.

And that is why this movie falls flat trying to do justice to one of the greatest geniuses of our time. It focuses far too much on Apple products and the company and ignores the man. And where it does focus on the man, it portrays him in a light that is patronising in the least and idolatrous at the worst.

For example, people often call Jobs an inventor. He was not. If at all, Steve Wozniak was much more of an inventor. But the reason Jobs was able to turn Apple into a financial success is because he never missed out on the money-making opportunity in every invention and innovation. He was a marketing genius, a brilliant seller.

Basically anything Steve Wozniak could come up with, and see as a gadget, Jobs was able to mould into a marketable product. That was pretty much the essence of the man’s genius.

But having said that, Jobs was a complex man and the movie fails to capture this.

It focuses on the fact that Apple makes glamorous products but fails to see that this glamour does not transcend the company itself. It is sad that the movie’s plot failed it, because Ashton Kutcher actually did a pretty good job of portraying Steve Jobs.

One stand-out feature of the movie is the use of Steve Jobs quotes. For a budding entrepreneur, many of these sayings are pure gold. For example, Jobs once said, “The greatest artists like Dylan, Picasso and Newton risked failure. And if we want to be great, we’ve got to risk it too.”

This quote is quintessentially Steve Jobs who didn’t hesitate to take risks. If he wanted something, he would just go for it. When he was twelve years old he called up HP co-founder Bill Hewlett to ask for spare parts. Hewlett gave Jobs the parts and a summer job as well. No surprise then, when Jobs also said: “Most people never pick up the phone and call. Most people never ask, and that’s what separates the people who do things from the people who just dream about them.”

In another instance, in the movie, Jobs says, “How does somebody know what they want if they haven’t even seen it?” Indeed, Steve Jobs believed in building great products that he would want to use himself. To a large extent he had a point. For example, in 2010 how many of us would have asked for a third device in between a laptop and a smartphone? Most people would never have asked for an iPad, but once millions of consumers saw it, they couldn’t live without it.

I point out these quotes to highlight the fact that I already mentioned above. Apple made amazing products and Jobs was an amazing man. This is why the company should not have been the focus of the movie.

Steve Jobs once said that what made the Macintosh great was the fact that the people he chose to work on the system were “musicians, and poets, and artists, and zoologists, and historians who also happened to be computer scientists.” I think this says so much about how to build creative teams and also points at the sad fact that today so many companies overlook creative individuals because they don’t fit in a hiring box.

So if you want to know more about who this man was, what made him tick, then save your money and skip the film. Because I really think this feel-good tragedy of the century isn’t worth your money. This movie did not really need to be made. Instead, go watch Pirates of Silicon Valley, a much better and much more accurate story of Steve Jobs and Apple’s beginnings.

At the same time I feel this movie provides a sobering example of how critics and audiences can reach different conclusions. I admit that a lot of my criticism is based on the disappointment that certain events from the Jobs life story were not covered in the movie. I am, of course, completely aware that it is difficult to expect a single movie to do justice to a larger-than-life character such as Steve Jobs.

You would be better off waiting for Sony Corporation’s movie on Jobs even though no release date has been given yet. This cinematic effort is based on Walter Isaacson’s best-selling biography and is directed by Academy Award-winner Aaron Sorkin of The Social Network fame. I hope this one manages to take a risk to try and achieve greatness as its subject did in his lifetime.

Fun facts about Apple

Apple rejected Pakistan as a potential market for its products, as a low-end market with not enough demand for “quality”

Apple rejected an app for tracking US drone strikes because it was not “useful or entertaining enough”

Before co-founding Apple, Steve Jobs worked for Atari

Steve Jobs was a Buddhist and his birth father was a Syrian Muslim, Abdulfattah Jandali

Time magazine considered naming Steve Jobs ‘Man of the Year’ in 1982, even sending a reporter for interviews multiple times, but instead, the magazine named “the computer” the machine of the year

Steve Jobs was dyslexic

Apple’s original logo in 1976 featured Isaac Newton sitting under an apple tree

Apple wasn’t started in a garage, it was started in a bedroom at 11161 Crist Drive in Los Altos

Apple didn’t have two founders. It had three: Steve Jobs, Steve Wozniak, and Ronald Wayne

In 1985, Jobs lost a power struggle with the board of directors at Apple and left the company. He founded a computer platform, NeXT, that same year. In 1996, a floundering Apple bought NeXT and brought Jobs back to the company. Much of the OS X operating system is built on NeXT technology. Once Jobs returned, he pulled Apple from the brink of bankruptcy, tripled annual sales, doubled Mac’s market share, and increased Apple’s stock 1,300%

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 1^st, 2013.

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The lashings of surma parents apply to their infant’s eyes could lead to anaemia, growth retardation and even kidney problems.

Many people think surma or kohl is made of one of antimony’s minerals, stibnite, that was used in Egyptian cosmetics four or five thousand years ago as black eyeliner. But the truth today is that commercially produced surma has less antimony and more Lead Sulphide. This dangerous chemical is a known developmental neurotoxicant, which has even come to the notice of the US Food and Drug Administration. In fact surma products are banned in North America.

But paediatrician Assistant Prof Dr Mohsina Noor Ibrahim sees far too many children with kohl-rimmed eyes at Karachi’s National Institute of Child Health. What angers her most is the use of surma on wounds. “Parents should never apply surma to a newborn’s umbilical cord, as it can lead to infection, such as tetanus,” she warns.

“Surma’s quality, especially its composition, is a mystery. We don’t know what colour particles they are using and what is the metal content of surma.”

Given that the government does not regulate how these cosmetics are made, it is not clear what goes in them. But several studies, some from as far as Israel and Bahrain, have found that kohl manufactured in the Middle East and the Indian subcontinent has had up to 79% lead. Other metals included iron, carbon, aluminum, camphor and menthol.

These elements are absorbed in the blood through the nasolacrimal duct, which connects the eyes to the nose, and esophagus eventually leading to the stomach, explains Dr Tayyaba Batool, a consultant paediatric surgeon at Ziauddin University Hospital.

The best way to tell your blood lead levels is to get a blood test. For adults there should be no more than 20 micrograms per decilitre of lead in the blood and for children 10. Your doctor can use test results to tell if there is a case of lead poisoning, whose common symptoms are anemia, growth retardation and kidney problems.

And it’s not just the surma that can cause problems. Surma applicators are made of metal or wood, which when unclean can cause fungal and bacterial infections in the eye. Ophthalmologist Dr Jamal Mughal with Karachi’s Akhtar Eye Hospital also warns that if parents use force to apply the kohl they can injure them too.

Aside from cultural tradition, people believe it is Sunnat to use surma, it improves eyesight and cures. But a hakim, Syed Muhammad Rehan Alam, warned that the commercial brands produced today are nowhere near the quality of surma used centuries ago. “[They] use colour in surma [but] the formula that was used by hakims is a difficult procedure,” he said.

Experts at the King Khaled Eye Specialist Hospital and several other institutes in Riyadh did report the interesting finding that some kohl preparations had a weak antimicrobial effect against Streptococcus, Staphylococcus and Proteus species. But they still discouraged use of lead-based kohls.

The discovery of lead content in this cosmetic has been a cause of concern for a while. Researchers have even studied how a baby’s blood lead levels can go up through the umbilical cord if the mother applies surma.

Doctors can only fight cultural beliefs so much. Abdullah’s six-month son Qasim has been admitted to the NICH. His wife told him to bring some surma from home because she felt his eyes looked “empty and small” without it. “I don’t know why Qasim has vision problems even after we use surma,” he said.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 8^th, 2013.

Pacific Rim plays like a live-action version of a Japanese anime. With epic battles between gigantic, alien monsters and equally imposing mecha operated by humans, director Guillermo del Toro manages to successfully create every guy’s childhood fantasy.

Written by del Toro and Travis Beacham, the movie stars Charlie Hunnam, popular for his role in Sons of Anarchy, as the narrator and lead protagonist, and alongside him is Japanese actress and Academy Award nominee, Rinko Kikuchi. Together, with a supporting cast that includes the likes of Idris Elba, the fearless leader of Jaeger pilots, Ron Perlman, a black market, ‘monster parts’ dealer, and Charlie Day, a wacky scientist, they strive to defend the world against CGI-animated, menacing aliens called the Kaiju, using enormous robots, called Jaegers. The robots are operated by two pilots working in tandem as the last line of defense for a desperate human race.

The breadth of del Toro’s imagination is best at work in the battle scene between the Jaegers and the Kaiju. Battles in the ocean, on the shore and in metropolitan cities are filmed and displayed with such cinematic perfection that they leave the audiences hypnotised. The only downside is the excessive rain that obscures what is perhaps the best part of the movie — the no-holds-barred fighting.

In order to justify the $190 million budget of the movie, and to appeal to a wider, non-anime or robot-loving audience, del Toro has tried to foray into the psyche of the protagonists to give them more flesh and blood. This is, however, where the movie flounders. It tends to drag at times, especially when the director tries to establish the relationship between Raliegh and Mako. The typical boy-meets-girl story seems forced and unnecessary and what’s worse, remains inconclusive as to whether they are merely friends or something more.

The attempt to inject mild humour into the movie, in the form of comic relief, also falls flat. Although well-intended, the dialogue and scenes come off as forced and trite. If nothing, it just makes del Toro appear a bit desperate. Also, some of the scenes in this sci-fi fantasy serve no real purpose other than padding out the length of a film, and could have easily been removed in editing. But if you are a fan of gigantic, metal giants, then the long, drawn-out action sequences are sure to keep you awake and attentive during the entire course of the movie.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 8^th, 2013.

“To steal another woman’s husband is rude but to steal her maid is unforgivable” is the rule the women in Beverly Hills live by, at least in Marc Cherry’s new dramedy TV series, Devious Maids.

Sticking with the tried-and-tested recipe for success, Cherry’s Devious Maids is heavily inspired by its predecessor, Desperate Housewives — only this time, instead of the housewives of Wisteria Lane sharing stories of their husbands over poker, four Hispanic maids discuss the dirty laundry of their employers in Beverly Hills.

The show starts with the murder of a maid, Flora, in the mansion of Evelyn and Adrian Powell — easily the most secretive and creepy couple on the block. The police soon arrest a suspect but if Desperate Housewives has taught us anything, it’s that the death at the beginning of the first season will haunt us till the very last one.

The dirt

Zoila Diaz has been working at the house of the drug-addicted and co-dependent Genevieve for almost 20 years but things get difficult when her teenage daughter Valentina pays more attention to Genevieve’s blond and muscular son Remi than polishing the floors.

Her friend Rosie is the maid/nanny for two actors, Peri and Spence, whose relationship seems to be on the rocks. Struggling to bring her son to the United States from Mexico, Rosie is often dragged into the couple’s messy fights. Her inclination from the very beginning, however, is shown to side with the handsome “Mr Spence”.

Fun and feisty Carmen is an aspiring singer who’s willing to do anything to make it as a star. She starts working as a maid at the house of pop star Alejandro in the hope that he would notice her talent and help kickstart her career.

What ties them all together is the new maid on the block, Marisol, who appears only after Flora’s death. Well-read and missing the Spanish accent, Marisol appears different from the other maids. She lands a job as a housemaid for newlyweds Taylor and Micheal but is more interested in the house of Evelyn and Adrian. The writers, however, make no attempt in hiding her motives — she’s the mother of the boy booked for Flora’s murder and on the lookout for the actual killer.

Performance of the maids

Based on the first half of the premier season which has aired, the show has enough one-line zingers, mysterious characters and scandalous twists to keep the viewers interested. With familiar faces from Desperate Housewives making guest appearances, the entire ensemble does a good job of delivering powerful performances.

While summer TV has witnessed many cancellations this year, Devious Maids has already been renewed for a second season and the credit goes to the maids, who not only know how to dig up dirt but aren’t afraid to use it.

Girls Club

Girls

If Sex and the City was Manhattan, then the new TV series Girls is Brooklyn. Its main characters are in their twenties, less refined and more experimental. The creator of the show, Lena Dunham, stars as a struggling writer Hannah who along with her responsible best friend Marnie, their bohemian friend Jessa and the 21-year-old virgin Shoshannal learn how to get by in New York City.

Pretty Little Liars

They might be still in high school but these four pretty, little liars have more secrets than the show’s four seasons could handle. Spencer, Aria, Hanna and Emily are best friends living in the fictional town of Rosewood but after the ‘death’ of their group leader Alison, chaos, blackmail and drama ensues in the form of an unknown stalker ‘A’.

Mistresses

Mistresses is based on a British drama that follows a group of four women whose lives have been affected by infidelities. The first season, currently underway, introduces the career-oriented Savi (Alyssa Milano) who decides to start a family with her husband, her single sister Josselyn who’d rather have a good time than settle down and Karen, a therapist, who has to deal with the fallout of a complex relationship with a patient.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 8^th, 2013.

Under the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me,

And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird’s throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

— William Shakespeare

In an orphanage in 1947, a 14-year-old boy recited this poem at the parents’ day ceremony. The school was MC Bohri Primary School. The orphanage was Darul Shafqat. The city was Lahore. Faqir Muhammad Shami had just completed his fourth grade and was selected as the class speaker. Today, at 81 years of age, he remembers this poem with fondness.

In a way, this has come to define his life. He calls upon people and shares with them the stories of Lahore’s past and present. He is the unofficial guide to the city’s monuments. You may have seen him. He is small, frail, and invisible, unless he comes up to you and starts speaking in English about a certain corner of the Badshahi mosque. When you get to know him a little, you realise he is much taller than he appears. And like all legends of this country, he too is fading into obscurity.

Born to the fourth wife of his father in about 1932 near Karori in Mansehra district, Shami was perhaps destined to be special — an aalim — according to an astrologer’s prediction. This almost cost him his life as his stepmother tried to poison him out of jealousy. “Woh moozi thi aur main ghaazi.” He lived to tell his story and the story of Lahore through its monuments as a tourist guide.

Shami came to Lahore with his mother in 1944 after his father passed away of asthma. The orphanage was not easy. For a year he couldn’t learn beyond alif, be, pe as he struggled with a mental block. His hands developed blisters from constant beating from his teacher. A passerby took notice and suggested a Quran school to unblock his mind. This worked, and after a short time he returned to the primary school and went on to become a star student.

Shami saheb’s handwritten visiting card.

Before he learnt English, Shami acquired fluency and eloquence in language at a very early age. Indeed this was a prerequisite for an aalim — one who knows. On a summer journey home with his step-brother, they took a detour via Abbotabad. Moved by its sudden beauty, Shami composed this ode at the age of 14:

Qafas-e-qaid mein na shaakh daali, bulbul ko chaman nazar aaya

Parda uthha kar jo jhaanka Abbotabad nikal aaya

Zarra zarra husn-e-jahan tujh mein sama jaaein

Nikhat-e-ambreen yahan tujh mein sama jaaen

Aks-e-firdaus in daaliyon ko jhoomtay dekha

Khuda shahid jahan saara ghoom ke dekha

Khuda ne khudaai kya khoob hai banaai

Darya-o-mauj-o-lehr mein kashti chalaai

Jahan saara jamal-e-ishq-e-husn-e-Abbotabad ban jaaye

Jahan saare say laal-o-gauhar shaami nikal aaen

While Urdu came with relative ease, English was a gift from his mother. At least, this is how he sees it. Back in the village she used to call him ‘angrezaa!’ when she got angry with him. One day he didn’t take this curse particularly well and ran ten miles to his step-sister’s house. “My mother called me angrezaa so I became an angrez,” he says today. But it took motivation and effort. In Lahore, his teacher at the secondary school of the orphanage encouraged him to learn English: “You will remain backward if you don’t study English!” He worked hard and become the undisputed English-speaking tourist guide for Lahore some years later. This happened by chance.

After completing seventh grade in 1951, Shami began living with his step-brother in Lahore. He continued with his education and finished a two-year degree of Adeeb Alim in 1954 from College Al-Sana Sharqiyya outside Delhi gate run by Aqa Bedar Bakht. Forced to leave after a conflict with his brother, Shami found shelter at the canal. One day he strolled into the Shalimar Gardens. Nazir Jira, who used to organise a gambling den at Hotel Zenobia, was an employee of Mehekma Asaar-e-Qadeema and ran the fountains in the gardens. Shami observed that foreign tourists gave Nazir some money when he greeted them in English. This gave him an idea. If the unlettered gambler could earn a few rupees, then Shami could do much better. He dedicated himself to the study of important monuments in Lahore and became an unofficial English-speaking guide for foreigners who came.

But nobody wanted to marry a homeless guide with an unsteady income. So, in 1963 he found employment at the University Law College as a peon and married Irshad bibi in 1965. With support of his supervisor Sheikh Imtiaz Ali (Sitara-e-Imtiaz), whom he remembers fondly, Shami continued working as a guide throughout his employment. Finally, in 1984, after resigning three times, he was allowed to leave the college. Immediately, he joined the Tourism Development Corporation of Punjab (TDCP) as a teaching guide to MA-qualified students, and worked there until his retirement in 1989. During this time he trained about three to four dozen guides.

Ahsan Iqbal Chaudhary, managing director of TDCP from 1988 to 1990, once asked about Shami guide. Asif Zaheer, who was at that time a trainee and who later became a director at Parks and Horticulture Authority Lahore, responded: “Shami is not a guide. He is a great book. I need fifty years to read him.” Shami’s mark on Lahore tourism was well known and respected.

He appears out of nowhere from the unknown crevices of Badshahi mosque only he knows. It starts with a friendly smile. With a few sentences in one of the many languages he is proficient in, laced with a few accented English sentences, he proffers his hand-written visiting card that will always have a message of peace or tolerance or keeping Lahore green.

His average tour of Badshahi mosque lasts 40 minutes. The fee varies. The charitable Shami may charge as little as Rs50 and give a full-fledged tour which is more of a class in historical story-telling. While Badshahi Masjid is his headquarters, he will guide you through the Gurdwara or even Shalimar Gardens, Wazeer Khan Mosque and Jahangir’s tomb.

The highlight of the tour is the famous “echo” routine. Shami knows the exact four spots in the Badshahi where the builders played a unique architectural trick. With no microphone, all you have to do is place your mouth close to the niches in any of these four spots and say a throaty, consistent “aa” or “o” or “aam” or “om” sound. It vibrates such that while someone a few yards away may not hear it, someone standing at a certain point a long distance away in the mosque will hear the haunting echo.

But Shami is not just a guide to Lahore’s Mughal past. He is also a living record of Lahore’s recent past and its passing present. Having lived through the Partition and seen several military and civilian governments, he has his own stories to share.

Just before Partition, he participated in an agitation against the British government. At a particular pahiyya jaam, he lay down in the street leading a crowd in front of the Civil Secretariat, which was held by Malik Khizar Hayat Tiwana. They stayed outside his office for several days. Shami recounts the way the call-and-echo slogans went:

Ringleader: Aao tumhein aik baat bataaen

Crowd: Kya bhai kya, kya bhai kya?

Ringleader: Jail mein jaao gay?

Crowd: Kyun bhai kyun, kyun bhai kyun?

Ringleader: Wahan aik cheez mile gi!

Crowd: Kya bhai kya, kya bhai kya?

Ringleader: Khizar ki beti

Crowd: Wah bhai wah!

Ringleader: Khizar ki beti

Crowd: Wah bhai wah!

Malik escaped and delivered a message: Pakistan bana lo!

Ringleader: Taazah khabar aai hai

Crowd: Khizar hamara bhaai hai!

Pakistan bana liya, but the realities of Partition were painful. Train compartments full of bodies arriving from India had a sobering effect. He and his friends did not retaliate with violence. They provided safe passage to Bhalla and Shital, two prominent Hindus of the area. Hum ne unhein ba-izzat nikaala — we saved them with dignity.

Reflecting upon the tragedy, he says, “We should have remained together — shaanti say — that may have been better. No passport, no visa! Now, we should have peace with India.”

Political activism has been an integral part of Shami’s life. He used to keep a set of letterheads in his name on which he wrote letters to several Pakistani leaders. He had a soft corner for Bhutto. He wrote him a letter warning of a bloated ego and bad advisors, and offered himself as one!

Later, in a note to General Zia he complained about misappropriation of income generated from the sale of tickets at Lahore Fort. He says that as a result, that task was privatised for Rs1.3 million that year while the present rate is Rs40 million per annum. A few years later, Shami was prohibited from entering the Fort. During the first PML-N government, he managed to annoy the American ambassador. Shami had written to several newspapers complaining about what he considered ‘interference in Pakistan’s internal matters’. The letter was not published but word reached the embassy. Since then he has been prevented from visiting the Fort’s grounds.

In 1988, his home and all his belongings were washed away in a disastrous flood. Irshad bibi suffered a heart attack the moment she saw her destroyed home. She had just given birth to their sixth child a month earlier. Since his retirement in 1989, each day at sunrise, Faqir Muhammad Shami continues to visit Badshahi mosque to share Lahore’s pride with visitors while earning very little money. On most days he returns empty handed. With the dwindling number of foreign visitors since 9/11, his income has evaporated. Nobody wants an English-speaking guide any more.

At 81 years of age, in soul-crushing heat or the freezing cold, Shami still goes about his daily routine, trying to make ends meet. He continues to beckon:

Come hither, come hither!
My name is Shami jee
Drink hot coffee and hot tea
Burn your rosy lips and think of me
Because of tea served you by Shami jee
Under the greenwood tree

The writer is a faculty member at the Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, LUMS, Lahore. You can follow him on Twitter @AurangzebH and contact him at aurangzeb@post.harvard.edu

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 8^th, 2013.

History is hard enough to piece together from shards of pottery. The storyline is further distorted in some European and Chinese museums if they unknowingly acquire smuggled artifacts from Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa. The relics have often been displayed with labels that have either incomplete or misconstrued information, say museum officials. For example, they can say a piece is from Pakistan or Afghanistan. If Pakistan wants to reclaim it, then, the foreign museum rejects the request and tells it to settle the matter with Afghanistan first.

Murky sourcing is to blame. For instance, many Gandhara Civilisation pieces that find their way into museums and homes across the world are not properly documented as they have been dug up by farmers and subsequently hawked by middlemen across the globe. No one has kept track. Formal archaeological digs are expensive and the government hasn’t been able to keep up.

Archaeologists estimate that there are 22,000 art pieces from the Gandhara Civilisation in Pakistan, but the number circulating in the international market, officially and unofficially, is suspected to be much higher.

This map shows the smattering of Buddhist archaeological sties in this part of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa. ILLUSTRATION BY JAMAL KHURSHID

No one knows exactly how many men make up the archaeological mafia network that has emerged from Mingora city in Swat, Sarrafa Market, Namak Mandi in Peshawar and the areas bordering Afghanistan. They acquire artifacts through local sources and then sell them at huge margins to their overseas network of dealers, usually family members who negotiate with museums, art galleries and even retailers.

This is how Ashiq Ali*, an academic failure, made millions overnight. A jeweler by profession, he started dealing in antiques when he stumbled upon a Buddha sculpture while digging on his family farm in Mardan. Two decades later, he is one of the main dealers in the area with domestic and international clientele. Today, he can afford to be picky and only buys pieces that interest him.

Dealers such as Ali, 47, may not have formal training on how to spot or date such items but even they need to keep an eye out for fakes. Nasrullah, a resident of Swabi, lost Rs50,000 when two men approached him with a statue and promises of a staggering profit. The statue turned out to be made of salt and neither the men nor the money were found again. Even worse can be a righteous ignoramus who smashes a terra-cotta goddess figurine because he thinks it is the work of the devil.

A Stupa model, Peshawar Museum.

But if someone with the right eye and contacts in the antiques market manages to find a piece, they have hit an instant jackpot. According to Dr Muhammad Zahir, an assistant professor at the Hazara University department of Archaeology, these antiques are worth more than the budget of the entire Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa (K-P) province.

A terracotta seal with Buddhist Stupa models and the ancient Sharada script at the Hund Museum, Swabi.

Qaddafi* is a dealer who has sold relics from the Ashoka reign that are found around his hometown of Mansehra. He tells the story of a friend who bought a sculpture from a farmer who had accidentally discovered it while ploughing his farm in Chitti Gatti. “He bought [it] for Rs20,000 and sold [it] in China for Rs8 million,” he says.

In addition to China, this history is valued in Korea, Japan, Thailand and the US. “Those who follow Buddhism as a religion have an emotional attachment to things found in our part of the world,” says Dr Abdul Samad who heads the archaeology department at Hazara University. “This is the place where all these things started. The artisan work done on sculptures and stupas and coins found in K-P, cannot be found anywhere else.”

The Gandhara Civilisation was centred on the area that is present-day Peshawar and included Bamiyan in Afghanistan. It is believed that Buddhism reached Gandhara in the third century BCE. Some archaeologists maintain that Siddhartha Gautama (later Buddha) himself visited Swat, Hund (Swabi), Mardan and Charsadda.

A look at the map of this area shows how many Buddhist monasteries sprung up. In fact, most of the illegal digging takes place about 16 kilometres from Mardan in the areas surrounding the (Zoroastrian and then) Buddhist site of Takht-i-Bahi which translates as Throne of Origins or the Spring Throne. This site is famous for its monastery that still stands on a crest of a hill. The complex is known as the most complete and impressive Buddhist monastery and was founded in the first century AD, according to Unesco.

First meditation of Prince Siddhartha, Peshawar Museum.

Given the importance of the region, the government of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa has established 11 museums across the province. Nidaullah Sehrai of the Directorate of Archaeology and Museums claims that they are trying their best to protect all sites. “We take action whenever we find people digging illegally,” says Sehrai. Recently in Swabi the police followed up on a complaint from his department to arrest some men disturbing land that with heritage significance. However, the directorate does not have enough money and hands on deck to completely tackle the mafia network, he adds.

The archaeologists often find that when untrained people rummage through these fragile sites, they do more damage. “Even when the antiquities are taken out safely,” says Dr Ihsan Ali, an archaeologist who has also served as the director of museums in the province, “the excavators only have an eye for stone and gold and usually destroy everything else.” It doesn’t help if the police are in their pocket.

The experts would like to also see the outdated 1976 Antiquities Act be updated to help them prosecute with more bite. People living in these areas also need to be given an education on the treasure they are sitting so they do their bit to protect the heritage. “Yes, our religion has changed,” says Dr Zahir, “but we are still custodians of our own heritage. Nothing can change that.”

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 8^th, 2013.

You can never be ready for the moment they pull the sheet off. The round middle-aged woman with mehndi-orange hair, in a limp pink shalwar kameez, is not the sallow-skinned corpse you dreaded. Eyelids closed, lips slightly parted, she looks as if she is peacefully sleeping. You almost want to reach out and touch her.

Outside the room with her body, however, a commotion has broken out in the half-lit shadows of the mortuary’s reception at Civil Hospital, Karachi. “Phanda kahan hai?” demands Dr Summaiya, the medico-legal officer (MLO), as she faces a tired policeman who brought the body in. “Where is the noose? Please tell me you have it.”

“We left it at the police station,” he replies sheepishly. “Ghalti ho gayi, we were in a rush.”

Dr Summaiya reins herself in as the victim’s family — the elderly husband and distraught young daughter — are watching from a few feet away. She proceeds to ask them questions. The woman was last seen by her family at 10 am when they left for work. The daughter weeps. The MLO takes furious notes. At least the family is not being suspiciously insistent on an autopsy. If this happens, Dr Summaiya’s sixth sense is alerted. “In nine out of 10 such cases it has been my experience that the culprit is the family,” she says. “They press for the autopsy to show how eager they are for insaaf [justice].”

This case seems to be different, at least from the information provided by the family. The woman had suffered from depression for years. She was consulting a psychiatrist at a large university hospital and was on medication. They found her hanging from the ceiling fan when they came home. A neighbour helped get her down.

As the gurney is wheeled inside, the MLO explains why the noose is so important. “You see, if this smart a** had brought the rope, we could have assessed the ligature against the damage to her neck. It would have helped us determine if she was strangled or hanged herself.”

Inside the mortuary, the stench is not overwhelmingly putrid, despite the lack of air conditioning. It’s closer to the sickly sweet smell of kitty-litter masked by an overdose of sanitiser and disinfectant. But then again, the body lying on the gurney was brought here just a few hours after it was found hanging from a fan in a Soldier Bazaar flat. It has not even begun to decompose.

“Wear these,” Dr Summaiya says, holding out two surgical masks — a double protection. She has sprayed her favourite Victoria’s Secret body spray on them. She sets her can of Mountain Dew down on a tray of surgical equipment near the body. “And if you faint, we have a bed ready for you too.” She gestures to a second stretcher parked in a corner.

As you inch closer to the table, you pick your way past stains on the floor. The canvas of tiles is still white but if you are not careful, your chappals will leave muddy prints from old dried blood. There is also the risk of slipping on the pool of diluted blood and water on the side.

The external exam begins. Dr Summaiya starts at the head. Her assistant turns to the limbs. Left, right, up, down. They move her about, trying to gauge the rigidity and assess the time of death. Has rigor mortis set in, they wonder out loud. “I am sick of telling the police we need the body with all the evidence,” she says, obviously still fuming over the missing noose. “The case can sometimes be deduced just by looking at the ligature. Such a crucial piece of evidence…”

They continue to inspect the victim. The chin is raised; the abrasion at the neck is closely examined.

“I’m really sorry aunty,” Dr Summaiya whispers. “I’m afraid we’ll have to open you up.”

All in a day’s work

For this MLO, this is a regular day at work. For the last decade, she has been doing an average of three post-mortems per week. In a bad week, she says it can go up to four or five. And while women medico-legal officers are reserved for female victims, they will also share the burden of men when there is a major disaster. On those days, Dr Summaiya loses count. The numbers are consistently rising each year, she says. With the majority of post-mortem cases being sent to Jinnah Postgraduate Medical Centre and Abbasi Shaheed Hospital, Civil hospital conducted approximately 350 in 2012. As violence and gun crime rise in a lazily policed Karachi, the numbers will get closer to 500 this year. Jinnah hospital is expected to take on 850 cases.

Given that the medico-legal stream of government service is hardly a coveted one, it is hard to understand why someone such as this animated MLO would want to work in an understaffed and equipped mortuary in one of Pakistan’s most violent cities. After her rigorous five-year MBBS degree and house jobs in pediatrics and surgery she could have worked anywhere else.

She insists that the profession chose her, instead of the other way around. “I enjoy my work,” she adds. “The investigation keeps me on my toes. When I arrive at a cause of death or write a particularly complicated rape or assault case, I feel exhilarated.”

But while she has no qualms doing gunshot cases, or even torture ones, she will not take on a baby’s case or that of a pregnant victim. “I have seen drill holes in their legs,” she says. She has seen missing fingernails and cigarette burns — even unmentionable torture wounds. She uses the word “masters” to describe the perpetrators. “They know when to stop mere centimeters from death. Some have experience and go about it in a scientific manner.”

Her science is an underappreciated one in a city that needs it the most. If it were not for her, perhaps the police would not have nabbed a serial killer who butchered three women.

“My estimate was [that he was] a man of short stature,” she says, going on to explain that the depth of the cut helped tell. A tall man would have swung from a height to deliver a high-impact and hence deeper cut, than a short man. “I deduced that he initially had no experience in cutting up body parts but was gaining experience with each body.”

She told the police investigating officer (IO) that he should look for a person with small conveyance but not a motorcycle. “I told him it was possibly someone from outside Karachi,” she recalls. One victim’s legs were wrapped in two pillow cases made of a different fabric with what seemed to be embroidery from around Multan.

Indeed, the perp turned out to be a rickshaw driver from Sadiqabad who hunted poor household helpers for a bit of sex, a “lust murderer” who later admitted to his crimes. “The IO got a letter of recommendation,” she says sourly. “I got a ‘Thank You’ phone call and a chance to speak at the police training center and teach those ignorant morons — so there’s your Dexter.”

That case was a highlight. There are many instances when the MLOs are not brave enough to name the killers. “Sometimes, we turn a deaf ear to what the dead may be saying to us.”

Government service

As with other government jobs, the world of post-mortem forensic pathology has its set of sins — bribes and politics of transfers are common. Some just skim the waters, others dive deep. Some MLOs make easy money by writing favourable cases, instead of working hard to run a clinic as a source of income on the side. Others ask for “compensation” to release a body to the family or weaken the other party’s case. There are instances when doctors take money just to write a case. And of course, the outcome can also be influenced by a fatter wad of cash.

These monetary incentives cannot, however, entirely motivate. Who wants to deal with pressure from armed gangs and trigger-happy party activists when there is no security? Sometimes exhumations need to be carried out much to the anger of families. “We just deal with it,” says Karachi-based Dr Abdul Haq, a former MLO who was recently promoted to senior medical officer in grade 19 (22 being the highest). “There is a lot of pressure on us. Not only are we overworked, the facilities and equipment we use are terrible.”

The mortuary doesn’t have anything worth calling a budget. (This is different from a morgue, such as Edhi’s at Sohrab Goth, where bodies can be kept in the required low temperatures). The mortuary staff has to even print their own post-mortem forms. Civil hospital does pay for some maintenance. Sometimes the police investigating officer helps arrange for material or the Edhi ambulances give them extra sheets. Dr Summaiya carries her own syringes and swabs. She scoffs that the advantage of taking bribes for some is that at least that MLO can pay for the equipment with the extra cash.

While MLOs are not authorised to perform post-mortems unless expressly sanctioned by the police, Dr Abdul Haq says at times parties circumvent the police and approach them directly. “‘Hum police ko dekh lenge,’ they say. We give in and give them the details of the injuries — what else can we do? We need to save our [own] lives.”

He describes the job as being the equivalent to being thrown into the deep sea — you either sink or swim. With a crushing load, gag-inducing work environment and no protection, he says it’s a little-respected line even among doctors. “On a bad night, one MLO will perform four post-mortems in a night and then also have other medico-legal cases to deal with, such as assault, rape, road accidents. Sometimes mothers come to us saying, ‘I need help, look what was done to my child’. We try to give the details to the best of our abilities given our limitations [equipment and facilities], but the weaker MLOs are bought. Jaisi report chahiye, waise paise chahiye hain.” Pay for the kind of report you want.

Viscera samples, which should reach a forensic lab straight from the MLO’s hand, are easy to sidetrack along the way. Police investigation officers are incompetent at best and lazy at worst, many of them are barely able to write details of the crime scene. They put it off and just press the MLO to get the job done.

Despite these difficulties, Dr Summaiya says she loves her work. She hopes to write a book about her experiences some day, even though a piece she once wrote titled, ‘When the Dead Talk’ was turned down by an English newspaper. “They told me it didn’t make for a good Sunday read,” she says. “But I don’t get creeped out at all. I just follow the path.” She was first posted to the police surgeon’s office in Karachi and never looked back, even investing in a postgraduate degree in forensic pathology.

“I personally don’t think I belong here. I need to be in a world where forensics are both respected and treated as a science. But I can’t help it. I am drawn to it. Even my colleagues think I am a bit of a freak for being so serious about this field,” she says. “I have people here who hate me and say I show off. I just do what I am good at. And that’s thinking like a criminal.”

She opens up the victim’s neck by making a five-inch vertical incision, chin down. She scrapes the fat away and removes some tissue. She feels around inside the woman’s neck. “Aha, it’s snapped right here, see?” she tells the assistant. She is holding out the horse-shoe shaped hyoid bone that sits above the thyroid. “It breaks when we compress the neck right there,” she adds, explaining that it is evident from the way the bone has snapped that the woman hanged herself. “Okay aunty, we’re giving you your stuff back. Sorry again about opening you up.” It’s rare to have such a clear-cut case, she says. This woman must have been seriously depressed.

As the woman is stitched up, we talk about politics and Karachi. She teases the assistant about being her ustaad or mentor. She takes a sip of her Mountain Dew. When I take my gloves off and move to the dirty sink in the corner, she warns me that there might be no water. Thankfully, there is.

Later, we talk about her family (a husband and two children). She has cats. She’s a passable cook, but she loves to write. She reads Harry Potter and enjoys watching the occasional Bollywood film (Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani is a recent favourite).

The ‘normal’ things in life keep her sane.

She proceeds to write the death certificate. Cause of death: Constriction of neck leading to asphyxiation.

Case closed.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 8^th, 2013.

John Frusciante is making some strange sounds in his new EP titled Outsides, which has emerged a far cry from what he produced in his previous day job. Listen to it knowing that this music is coming from the man who quit the Red Hot Chili Peppers (RHCP), twice.

This would perhaps explain why, with Outsides, Frusciante has heavily leaned on an electronica-infused vibe that he has been so keen on in his last few solo records. The EP, (a 10-minute guitar solo besides two other tracks) thus marks a departure from what we are used to hearing from him. It could take some work to digest this for people who are accustomed to his melodic finger picking and staccato riffs that made him so famous in the five RHCP albums.

Take the 10-minute opener ‘Same’, for instance. In it, Frusciante has opted to create a digital track instead of one laid down by a drummer. He has sliced the drum track to lock in with his bluesy guitar which shifts keys cohesively though freeform. The guitar track is mysteriously behind in the mix, lending the synth-soaked frenzy a spacey interplay. Despite some of the bluesy licks, there is no lack of notes here. Sprinkled with legato and speed picking, Frusciante cuts loose with the occasional drills and Olympic-level string skipping.

‘Breathiac’ is a jarring disconnect from the opening track. The fierce rhythmic brawl and time warp in the first few seconds give way to a full-drawn percussive backlash that reaches no climax. Instead, it dips inconspicuously into a blanket of voices with chamber echo atop polyrhythms before ending with a false start.

‘Shelf’ kicks off as an ‘out’ piece but shifts gears to become something much more encompassing. From elements of lounge to techno to R&B, the track is held together by a multitude of effects, wide range of percussions and tinkling bells punctuated by some raucous guitar playing. For all its seemingly complex dips and turns, it still maintains a rudimentary regard for melody.

The bonus track for the Japanese release, ‘Sol’, is perhaps a fitting outro to Outsides. It drags on with intermittent swells that tether on the other side of weirdly melodic passages which miraculously evade the callousness of the polyrhythms Frusciante has so copiously used.

It’s by no means easy-listening. And those who have venerated Frusciante for his role in defining the sound of RHCP will find it difficult to come to terms with this aural evolution. But fans of Acid sections will appreciate the bizarre tempo shifts and electronic beats this 43-year-old songsmith turned soundsmith is employing to break the spell of aging.

Play that funky music

The Red Hot Chilli Peppers have sold over 90 million records worldwide. It would have been near impossible to achieve this had it not been for Frusciante’s brilliant fretwork. Here are some — by no means all — recordings that bear testimony to his knack for writing memorable hooks.

Under the bridge

That reverb drenched tone devoid of bass and treble has entranced so many RHCP fans over the years and the fingerpicked intro of Under the Bridge is one of his finest. Amateur guitarists can’t help but have a go at it, but to really nail it you’ll need more than just the chops.

Otherside

There might be only about four notes in the intro, but don’t let the simplicity fool you. A cover band in each corner of the world is playing this in a café, bar or pub as you read this. And most guitarists are rushing through the riff. Elsewhere, Frusciante is sipping his coffee with a smug smirk.

Around the World

This rompin’ and-a-stompin’ riff is as bold as Mother Russia. Replete with fuzzed-out squeals and bends from hell, the groovy bone-rattler is guaranteed to make you want to climb on the bed and deliver the air guitar performance of the year. Just don’t look in the mirror while you’re at it.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 15^th, 2013.

The announcement was short. It lasted only a fraction of second — a blink of an eye. But a spacecraft in Earth’s orbit, keeping an eye on such events, captured it on June 3 this year. The announcement may have been brief, but it told us that two exotic dead stars, called neutron stars, have collided with each other. This is a relatively rare event, but it bears good news for the merchants in the Sona bazaar. This collision has created gold — lots of it.

But before you head over to Sona bazaar, you should know that this particular collision happened in a galaxy so far away that it has taken light — traveling at a stupendous speed of 186,000 miles every second — four billion years to reach us! In astronomical terms, this collision happened in a galaxy four billion light-years away. In comparison, light from our Sun gets to us in 8 minutes, and is therefore only 8 light-minutes away. The distance of billions of light-years doesn’t intimidate astronomers, as they routinely study events and objects that are even farther away than this particular galaxy. The significance of this event, however, resides in the fact that for the first time, astronomers have been able to study light from collisions that may help us understand the way elements like gold are created in the universe.

Before we get too caught up in the cosmic glamour, we should remember that almost all of the elements that make our bodies were cooked up inside the stars: the carbon in our DNA, oxygen in our lungs, and iron in our blood. Hydrogen in the water molecule, on the other hand, is a leftover from processes in the early history of the universe. The classic quote from the late astronomer Carl Sagan is indeed true: “We are made up of star stuff”.

But for years, astronomers had been seeking an explanation for elements like gold, lead, platinum etc. It was thought that most of them formed when large stars — stars that are ten times the size of our Sun — die in large explosions called Supernovae. However, calculations showed that supernovae in the universe could only account for a fraction of these elements. There must be another way to make gold in the universe.

Now we know how.

Here is the recipe: You take two stars that are orbiting each other. This is not as hard as it seems. Nearly half of all stars in our own Galaxy have at least one other star in its system. But make sure that both of these stars are at least 10 times bigger than our Sun. Then wait about 10 million years. This is the average lifetime of big stars. They will eventually exhaust all their fuel and explode in their individual supernovae. All that will be left of them will be their cores, called neutron stars. These are some of the strangest objects in the universe. Each of the neutron star contains mass equal to that of our Sun, but all packed in a size no greater than a city like Karachi. This means that they have very high density. A teaspoon of neutron star material would weigh as much as a mountain. Now you have two of these neutron stars orbiting each other. But orbits for such exotic objects are unstable. The two stars will eventually collide with each other — and this collision will result in the creation of gold and other rare elements.

However, in an act of ultimate charity, these elements are spread into the surrounding space.

By the time our Solar system was born, many such collisions had enriched our Galaxy with gold (and other elements). The gas cloud that formed the Sun and the Earth already contained these elements. Some of this gold became part of the Earth. Four-and-a-half billion years later, this rare element caught the attention of bipedal species and it became an object of desire and envy.

So the next time when you wear a gold ring or necklace, pause for a minute and appreciate how the cosmos gave us bling.

Salman Hameed is associate professor of integrated science and humanities at Hampshire College, Massachusetts, USA. He runs the blog Irtiqa at irtiqa-blog.com

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 15^th, 2013.

When taking a flight, the journey begins long before you actually step on a plane. You arrive at the airport, go through immigration, wait in the departure lounge and finally, board. While Hasina Mansoor had never actually been a passenger, she covered the first half of the journey every day.

An attendant at the vending machine “for instant chai and coffee” in the airport’s departure lounge, Hasina has a front-row seat to all the drama involving passengers, airline crew and in her own words, “the big people — politicians, filmwallahs, businessmen, cricketers, singers and dancers.”

Not one to be ungrateful, she doesn’t mind selling a cup of tea for Rs40 for a living since it lets her peer into the lives of others. In awe of flight attendants, especially the Kingfisher girls, Hasina, from time to time, shows an inclination towards becoming a female pilot or stewardess but never actually goes through with it.

Her life outside the airport centres on her no-nonsense Abba, her easygoing twin sister Shamla, and her young brother, Ali — the only character for whom a seemingly detached Hasina’s affection appears genuine.

Inspired by the diary of Anne “French”, Hasina starts to jot down her days’ accounts, initially making up the entries in her journal to make them seem interesting. But as the story progresses, Hasina’s otherwise dull days start to become eventful, particularly the ones on which she goes off for a rendezvous with her cousin Eza.

And thus, author Anees Salim of Tales from a Vending Machine has attempted to build a strong protagonist — a resilient girl who doesn’t shy away from taking risks (keep your eyes peeled for the last chapter, cleverly titled ‘Emergency Exit’). She’s also prone to add mothballs (in the form of powder) to the chai if offended. Salim’s writing prowess, however, lacks the same zing which could have made Hasina’s story more engaging and less predictable. The chapters in the book touch upon a variety of themes, such as Hasina’s opinion of 9/11, “Juice” [Jews] and her star-struck encounter with Shahid Afridi, but most of the times, fail to tie in with each other.

Salim’s narrative in Tales from a Vending Machine resembles that of Moni Mohsin’s in The Diary of a Social Butterfly. The former, however, could use some tips from the latter on how even simple writing can be powerful and comical writing can be less obvious and more witty.

Available at Liberty Books for Rs695. To avail a 10% discount, order online at www.libertybooks.com

Have fiction, will travel

Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta

Rana Dasgupta’s debut novel, Tokyo Cancelled, tells the story of 13 passengers stranded at an airport when a snowstorm delays their flight to Tokyo. The passengers huddle together and with hints of magic realism, each tells their story chapter by chapter. From within the confinement of the airport terminal, Dasgupta takes the reader from Paris to Delhi to London and more.

A Week at the Airport: A Heathrow Diary by Alain de Botton

Read about the one week Alain de Botton set up home in one of the world’s busiest airports, Terminal 5 of London’s Heathrow, by being the writer-in-residence. With 24/7 access to the airport, Botton’s book is an insider’s tale of what goes on in an airport when all the passengers have boarded their flight and a lull takes over the venue which almost always appears to be in motion.

Airport by Arthur Hailey

The bestseller, Airport, might have an age-old plot about a man struggling to balance his career and personal life but Arthur Hailey’s simple yet engaging storytelling makes it a great read. Mel Bakersfield, the airport general manager at the fictional Lincoln International in Chicago, finds himself in a bind when a massive snowstorm hits the city and he has to make sure the airport’s operations run smoothly — all the while trying to shelter his marriage from a looming disaster as well.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 15^th, 2013.

Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters is the second movie based on the popular series Percy Jackson & The Olympians by Rick Riordan. The first movie The Lightning Thief (2010) received negative reviews from fans of the book series and moviegoers alike, and it was expected that the sequel would not disappoint. Admittedly, Sea of Monsters is a slightly better cinematic interpretation. But don’t be surprised if the desire to leave the theatre midway persists throughout the movie.

Percy Jackson (Logan Lerman) is the son of a human and the Greek god Poseidon, who rules the waters. Along with other half-gods, Percy lives in Camp Half-Blood, which is protected from other mystical beings by a magical tree. (It was born of the sacrifice of chief god Zeus’s daughter, to save the other half-gods). The magic tree is, however, poisoned, leaving the half-bloods vulnerable. And they need the extreme healing properties of the Golden Fleece to heal it.

But this is easier said than done because they would first have to undertake a precarious journey fraught with monsters to reach it. Our hero Percy is thus joined by his friends Annabeth (Alexandra Daddario) and Grover (Brandon Jackson) to take on the challenge.

A spanner is thrown in the works as the villain, Lucas (Jake Abel), is also in hot pursuit of the Golden Fleece. He needs it to summon the demon lord Trigon who used to rule the earth. This will help him become master of the world and exact revenge from his father Hermes, the god of speed.

Given the classic action plot for Sea of Monsters — Good is pitted against Evil in challenging circumstances — it would be reasonable to expect a fair amount of action. However, this Percy Jackson film leaned more on the Disney side; whatever thrills it has are shortlived.

In fact, there was more drama in the camp itself where Percy’s character development is much more interesting.

One weakness of the film was the terrible voice acting. When villain Lucas is shown falling, his scream sounds more like a sarcastic exclamation than a fear-filled cry. Similarly bleached of emotion were the conflict points; the enemy was ridiculously easy to defeat.

The plot contradictions also grate on your nerves. Percy may be the son of the god of the sea, but instead of using his powers over water, he uses a magical horse from the sea, that is summoned by his brother after great persuasion.

The director, Thor Freudenthal, could have learnt from the mistakes made in The Lightning Thief. But instead this sequel feels more like a parody of Percy Jackson than the real deal.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 15^th, 2013.

If Mithi had mozzarella all they would have to do for pizza is add the mushrooms that suddenly sprout after the rains. The fat, white toadstools are nearly as big as oranges when they appear and set in motion a small economic respite for the people of Tharparkar and Umerkot.

Poor Hindu Bheels, Kolhis and Meghwars manage to make a little cash on the side by gathering the mushrooms. They sell them along roadsides on the outskirts of the towns and in the markets. Sometimes the children get creative by stringing a few of them together to try and attract customers. You can buy plastic bags full of them, so fresh that the soil is still clinging to their soft white skin.

SOURCE: PAKISTAN JOURNAL OF AGRICULTURAL RESEARCH 2007

“I charge Rs200 per kilogramme from locals and Rs300 to Rs400 from visitors,” said 10-year-old Kheto Kolhi. He manages to sell five to six kilogrammes a day when they are in season. Indeed, the visitors to Thar who have come to enjoy its rare window of greenery after the rains take the mushrooms back as gifts.

A lot of people buy them as a herbal fix for bone health. The fungi contain copper and zinc, two trace minerals that work together. They are chock full of vitamin D and other important minerals such as selenium and potassium. You get the best out of them by slicing raw for salads. They are also a good source of protein, dried. The protein content of a fresh mushroom is roughly 4%, dried mushroom 30% and beef 21%, for example.

The window of opportunity to ‘harvest’ and sell mushrooms is a small one in Umerkot and Tharparkar districts. The fungi suddenly sprout in a 24-to 48-hour period after the rains. “Mushrooms mostly grow on land where rainfall is high and soon after a rainy spell when the sun’s rays strike the soil,” explains Ayaz Kachelo, an agriculture expert. Some locals believe in the myth that they suddenly appear, overnight, if there is thunder.

Kachelo could not put a finger on how extensive the growth is but he felt that if the government set up a small research lab or a small farm to grow them commercially, they would perhaps have a better idea of how big they can be as a business.

Mushrooms being sold in Tharparkar and in Mithi.

PHOTO BY SAJID BAJEER AND KHALID KUMBHAR

It could really help the local economy, even for a short time, agrees Kirshan Sharma, a development expert, who gives the example of many other countries that were cultivating edible mushrooms commercially. In Pakistan, aside from Thar, the mushroom is found more commonly in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa. Out of a total of approximately 400 species of mushrooms in Pakistan, about 44 or 10 per cent are said to be edible.

For the people of Thar, the mushroom is like food for kings, said social activist Abdul Haleem Soomro. They get excited when it appears because it tastes like chicken — the poor man’s chicken.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 15^th, 2013.

My first encounter with dyslexia was in my first year of teaching A’ Levels. I had a pupil who had child-like handwriting, weak spellings, was unable to finish written work in prescribed time and faced difficulty in writing notes that were dictated in class. Without any prior knowledge of dyslexia, I assumed she was dyslexic and this was confirmed by one of her teachers. But despite being armed with this judgment, I was clueless on how to proceed. My inexperienced solutions included some extra time outside of lessons and allowing her to photocopy the class notes which she was unable to complete during class. Although she was extremely skilled in Art she did not manage to score well in my subject.

It is estimated that between three and ten percent of children, who are otherwise intelligent and can perform other tasks well, will struggle with the acquisition of literacy skills. Dyslexia is a separate entity, independent of IQ level.

It can be defined as a “processing difficulty” as a result of which the person’s reading, writing and spelling are affected. But it can also have an impact on cognitive processes such as memory, speed of processing and even time management.

See how one student Ali describes his experience: “Ever since I was a little child I knew that I was not the same as every other boy or girl in my class. I had a tougher time reading, writing and sometimes even speaking coherently. There were times when I just wanted to crawl into bed and stay there forever. Most teachers and peers doubted my abilities and thought I was unwilling to put in the effort. However this was not the case.”

It cannot be predicted with certainty which children will encounter reading problems. As stated above, dyslexia is a developmental anomaly. However children with a risk of dyslexia are those with a genetic predisposition and speech and language difficulties in pre-school years.

A specific deficit in phonological awareness is the first sign that the child is having reading problems. In simple words, they find it difficult to match alphabets to their sounds. Because it is difficult to identify words, the reader spends all their energy trying to read the word but they cannot get its meaning from the text. This grows frustrating and as a result the child reads less, which makes the problem worse.

There are some tell-tale signs that a secondary school student has dyslexia. They do not read accurately. They make spelling errors and find it hard to use the timetable efficiently. You need to repeat instructions. They find it hard to pronounce long words and struggle to plan and write long essays. They also have lower confidence and self-esteem. The problems with Math are similar to those experienced in other subjects.

Furthermore, dyslexic learners will struggle to remember what they learned. They are unable to write notes down quickly or complete work on time. Such complications mean that the student easily gets tired and starts avoiding work or starts to act out. Of course, don’t forget, dyslexic learners may excel in performance-related activities such as debates or art, which may make their dyslexia harder to identify.

SOURCE: Prevalence of Dyslexia in Secondary School Students in Lahore, 2011 Pakistan Journal of Psychological Research

Shaina Alvi, CEO of the Remedial Education & Assessment of dyslexics (R.E.A.Dyslexics), has been working in this field for over two decades. The majority of the students who are enrolled at R.E.A.D have been sent through their schools. First all their biological data (name, age etc.) is collected along with information on the difficulties they face in school (eg weak spellings, poor handwriting). Next Alvi will informally screen the child to check whether they can do age-related tasks. She recommends that parents and educators should be aware of developmental milestones and where they are not being met the child should ideally be referred to an expert.

Test for Dyslexia

Bangor Dyslexia Test

Standard Progressive Matrices

Slosson Intelligence Test

No label or diagnosis is given at this point as often children are underperforming in school because of a developmental lag. Early intervention for at-risk children has only positive outcomes. If they have been underperforming because of a developmental lag, remediation can provide them a boost. If they are not doing well because of dyslexia, the child can learn to develop coping skills.

Dr Erum Maqbool, a clinical psychologist who has specialised in dyslexia, agrees that a dyslexia diagnosis cannot be given without a complete battery of tests also known as Psychoeducational evaluation. Once the evaluation is complete and a diagnosis has been given by a clinical psychologist, then R.E.A.Dyslexics and IDARE are institutions who can then assign a tutor and design a remedial programme to help the child.

The Dyslexia-Friendly School

A dyslexia friendly school is one which is equipped to meet the unanticipated needs of its learners. Students and faculty are under strict scrutiny. No student goes unnoticed or is allowed to fail. Teachers and parents work together to identify and meet the diverse needs of children.

The most common way that a teacher can help dyslexic students is by reading out information, providing support materials, repeating instructions and highlighting key parts.

Stressful situations such as reading aloud in class and negative comments on marked assignments should be minimised.

Subject teachers should be aware that dyslexic difficulties can appear at times of exams or the start of a new course. When preparing for lessons, subject teachers should minimise dependence on texts and allow extra time for students to plan and organise their assignments.

Homework tasks should be explained in class as dyslexic students often have trouble with time management. When presenting new material, teachers can give hand-outs using bullet points and highlight key parts of the text rather than using italics or underlining as this makes words run together, making reading harder for dyslexic students.

Skeleton notes can be given with topic headings to support note taking and focus on key points as dyslexic students often have trouble copying from the board or writing during dictation. A partner can be identified whose notes can be photocopied after class.

Any new terminology being used in the lessons can be pre-taught. Furthermore extended discussion time to ensure tasks are well understood and illustration through diagrams of subject material will help all students.

Word processed homework assignments should be accepted. The use of a homework diary which involves parents will also be useful.

Schools, centres and teachers to help

R.E.A.Dyslexics (Pvt) Limited

Shaina Alvi

Call: (9221)3547-7323, 3587-9358, 3586-8276

Email: info@readyslexics.com, readyslexics@gmail.com

Web: www.readyslexics.com

Currently operating in Karachi, R.E.A.Dyslexics plans to reach out to children in other parts of the country as well.
Dr Erum Maqbool:

Medilink Consultant Clinics, Suit # 103, 1st Floor, The Plaza, Do Talwar, Main Clifton Road, Karachi AND A-K Centre, Flat # 102, 2nd Floor, Zeenat Terrace, Askari Bank Building, Main Bahadurabad Road, Karachi.

IDARE in Gulshan, Karachi: http://www.etaleem.com/subsites/education/idare/

Lahore Children’s Centre

Call: (042) 35752962

Email: info@lahorechildrenscentre.com

Web: lahorechildrenscentre.com

Avantage Learning

Call: (042) 3569 4640

Email: info@avantagelearnig.com

Web: http://www.avantagelearning.com

Avantage Learning is a brain gym for children who are dyslexic, have ADHD or ADD or borderline autism and Down’s syndrome.

PADIL

Web: www.freshfoundation.com.pk

A nonprofit organisation by the name of FRESH (Foundation for Rehabilitation & Education of Special Children). In Rawalpindi and Lahore. Schools opening in Sargodha and Islamabad (October 1).

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 15^th, 2013.

In Cairo’s 1,000-year-old Fatimid mosque, the Jamea ul Anwar, someone asked the spiritual leader Syedna Muhammad Burhanuddin (TUS) about the different ways that their Dawoodi Bohra women dressed when they came to the masjid. The year, according to community member Mustafa Jackwala, was 1979 and the discussion took place during the first Muharram congregation.

“We should encourage our people to wear what the royal family wears,” one of the Syedna’s sons is reported to have suggested, referring to the Qasr-e-Ali. But then, according to Jackwala, someone in the gathering objected to this idea, asking how it would be appropriate to allow ‘common’ people to wear what the royal family wore? The Syedna’s son replied simply: We want our people to look like us.

The women of the royal family used to wear the hijab, as decreed by the late Syedna Taher Saifuddin (AQ), who led the Dawoodi Bohras from 1915 to 1965. After the discussion in the mosque that day, though, his son took it upon himself to examine the sartorial identity of his people.

For example, in India the women preferred a cotton or silk scarf over a matching silk bodice and petticoat under a dark silk burqa. And the women from the royal family draped themselves in elaborate saris inside the confinement of the Saifee Mahal in Bombay. Even distant Dawoodi Bohra communities in Sri Lanka and Africa favoured saris and skirts with a shawl to cover their heads.  Subsequently, the Syedna’s wife came up with the design for the rida. It consists of a poncho-like top with the pardi and a flap to cover the face, and the lenga or loose-fitting skirt underneath. The word means ‘the chador of Bibi Fatima’, the daughter of Prophet Mohammad (PBUH).

The history of this discussion is mentioned in a 2011 thesis on the rida’s contribution to the textile cottage industry of Pakistan by Zahra Arif Lotia at the Indus Valley School of Art and Architecture. With a few years of the declaration that the Dawoodi Bohra women adopt the rida, it became a common sight.

“No changes can be made to the original cut because of the religious significance,” explains Yousuf Petiwala, who has sold them from his Jamali Shaadi Shop, in Karachi’s Najmi Market in Saddar for eight years. Indeed, today, the women of this particular denomination of Shia Islam can be instantly recognised the world over for their uniform way of appearing in public. As they say, you are what you wear. And with the rida, the outer garment became a symbol of their religious identity.

Rida Ritual

No matter what your age, the rida is part of a woman’s daily wear after her misak ceremony of initiation. Petiwala maintains that once a girl comes of age it is “compulsory” to wear the rida before leaving the house. But Aquila Aftab, who has been designing ridas for almost 27 years, disagrees, saying, “It is worn to a masjid… and it’s a very personal thing.”

PHOTO: FILE

The misak ceremony introduces a young woman to the rida. “It’s a reason for the entire family to get together and celebrate over a Bohra-style feast in a thaal,” adds Farida Yunus Marvi, who has 25 years of rida-designing experience.

But the ceremony has more to it than just the rida appeal. “The misak, more than anything, is a little ceremony welcoming the consciousness towards the practice and pursuit of the religion,” says Zahra Rangoonwala, the creative manager at Team::ants who had her own ceremony at the age of 13. Her mother affectionately stitched her first rida which was cut out of a pearly white, silky fabric with pink and lilac flower details — purple being her favourite colour. “I wanted to start wearing a rida already, and often practiced doing my pardi on my mom’s rida,” she recalls.

For all-female gatherings, a rida-cum-jori is preferred, as you can simply remove the pardi and wrap a dupatta around yourself.

Dear Designs

Farida Yunus Marvi says that all you need is 5.5 yards of fabric for a rida. The beauty of its architecture is that you can turn any type of fabric into one. Although Petiwala says that the women generally avoid see-through materials such as georgette. The type of fabric is mostly chosen by occasion; for weddings you can take your pick from a wide array of silk fabrics or jamavar and stick to cotton or wash-and-wear for everyday ridas.

Along with fabric, the colour selection is also closely allied with the shades of the season. “During summer, pastels and chikkun fabric are in vogue,” adds Petiwala.

Late Syedna Taher Saifuddin, who led the Dawoodi Bohras from 1915 to 1965. PHOTO: FILE

The designs are mostly seasonal and revolve around the latest shalwar kameez trend. “Pick any shalwar kameez catalogue and we’ll make a copy rida out of it… same print and embroidery,” says Petiwala, who entered the business in his mother’s footsteps. Tahera Petiwala stitched ridas at home on a small scale. “Since we don’t have a catalogue, customers point out the designs and we duplicate them,” he says. Marvi will even rip off the border from an old sari or shalwar kameez to make a rida for some of her clients.

But not all designers wish to flip through magazines and catalogues to unleash their creative streak. “My designs stem from the multicoloured ribbons and prints that I buy,” says Aquila Aftab. “I lay them out and match them.” She started out by stitching her own clothes after college as a hobby, and soon transformed her favourite pastime into a full-time career. Her daughter, Farida Adnan, provides some valuable assistance. Aftab and Petiwala also offer a broad range of designs that include salma-sitara work and screen printing.

Wedding Wear

Marvi caters to high-end customers who sometimes approach her to design their wedding ridas or joris. “On average it takes me two months to design and stitch a wedding jora because of the intricacy of the work that is usually done by hand,” she says. “But if you need it urgently, I’ll have it ready within a month.” Her bridal rida designs range between Rs8,000 to Rs10,000 and joris can cost around Rs500,000, depending on how much you are willing to fork out. The ones Aftab designs are priced between Rs2,500 and Rs10,000 and can be made available within two weeks. “Ridas are preferred when the ceremony is taking place inside a masjid, otherwise brides often opt for lengas,” she says, having worn a jori for her own wedding ceremony.

At Jamali’s Shaadi Shop, a rida can be churned out much faster and at a lower rate, starting from Rs2,000. “It takes me one day to stitch a regular rida if I work from morning to night,” he says.

Although wedding season may seem the busiest month for designers, Marvi gets orders for exclusive ridas especially during Ramazan, for Lailat-ul-Qadr that falls in the last 10 days of Ramazan and for Syedna Mohammad Burhanuddin’s birthday celebrations. It’s when every girl wants to outdo the one sitting next to her inside the Jamaatkhana.

The trend of wearing fashionable ridas for Lailat-ul-Qadr has, however, changed in the recent past. “It is fading because everyone realises that wearing such a fancy rida makes it difficult to pray all night,” says Rangoonwala. Elaborately detailed ridas are now set aside for weddings or Eid.

While a rida’s original purpose may have been to cover, it has easily morphed into a fashion symbol that is frequently associated with a level of comfort. Aftab, for one, confesses that it is perhaps the most convenient apparel. “You don’t have to wear a dupatta over your head and then constantly worry about it slipping,” she says.

No matter what their motivation to wear one, Dawoodi Bohra women all know that the rida makes them stand out. Rangoonwala often gets curious looks when traveling abroad. Sometimes she is even stopped with questions. “I end up replying that it’s just a creatively done ‘burqa’ or ‘abaaya’,” she says. “I definitely feel proud about being [Dawoodi] Bohra and wearing a rida.

With additional input from Fatima Attarwala

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 15^th, 2013.

In The Bling Ring director Sofia Coppola takes us into the wardrobes of celebrities and the glamorous world of Hollywood. If you are a fashion fiend or a celebrity-worshipper, this movie will leave you awestruck throughout. Far from other cinematic interpretations of celebrity lifestyles, Coppola’s film is based on a true story.

Coppola was inspired by a 2010 Vanity Fair piece ‘The Suspects Wore Louboutins’ by award-winning journalist Nancy Jo Sales. The article unveils the suspects and their motivations behind burglaries at celebrity homes. And so, from a distance Coppola shows us how a group of club-hopping teenagers in Calabasas, California, cat-burgle more than $3m in jewellery, cash and high-end goods.

The group of seven teenagers (popularly known as The Bling Ring) — Rebecca (Katie Chang) the mastermind, Marc (Israel Broussard) the new student at the high school, Rebecca’s friends Chloe (Claire Julien) and Nicki (Ema Watson), along with Nicki’s adopted sister Sam and Chloe’s friends Rob and Ricky — use the internet to track the whereabouts of their targets. Breaking in is easy as doors and windows are almost always unlocked. Once inside their homes, we are dragged into designer heaven — their victims’ wardrobes, stacked with Chanel, Hervé Leger, Louboutins, Birkins. Paris Hilton let Coppola shoot her wardrobe and night club room. Endless rows of shoes open into a room full of diamonds that opens into a room flowing with clothes. Paris has so many items in her wardrobe that she doesn’t even notice when her things go missing (the group breaks into her house five times).

After robbing their celebrity victims, the group members don the stolen items and upload photos on social media sites, posing with cash which later becomes evidence. This is strange, as normal robbers don’t show off their spoils. But these teenagers are different criminals, driven by celebrity-worship and consumer-culture. They actually belong to wealthy families and do not need to steal. They do it because each shoe and shirt they nick brings them one step closer to the high-profile people they adore and their perfect life.

Their vanity and desire to look and dress like the rich and famous drove them to rob the homes of Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Orlando Bloom, Rachel Bilson, Audrina Partridge and Megan Fox. When they break into Orlando Bloom’s house, after finding out that he is in New York for a shoot, they steal his wife Miranda Kerr’s lingerie. Stealing lingerie may seem absurd but as Sales points out in her piece, “they wanted to look sexy.”

Coppola assumes a distant position and shows us the events of the crime. She dwells on the subject but does not commit to a moral lesson. The narrative is a flashback of confessions, rendering the movie devoid of suspense. Despite this, Coppola has managed to keep the story interesting. She keeps us far from the characters (does not focus on family backgrounds) but close enough to realise that they have been corrupted by the seemingly glamorous and glitzy world of celebrities.

Overall, the success of the movie lies in highlighting the irony that being ‘burglars’ makes the teenagers ‘celebrities’ — the thing they truly desire.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 22^nd, 2013.

The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones is adapted from the first of the series of books by Cassandra Clare but hardly does justice to the text. Its makers should have tapped into richer human stories that we, mere mortals, can relate to.

Directed by Harald Zwart, this 130-minute box office failure is set in present-day New York City and stars Clary (Lilly Collins), a young girl who discovers, after a murder at a pub, that she actually belongs to the clan of shadow-hunters, half angels, who kill demons. These supernatural beings cannot be seen by ‘mundane’ humans. A subplot is the love story: Clary’s best friend Simon (Robert Sheehan) secretly harbours feelings for her.

After the discovery that she is a shadow-hunter, Clary’s primary agenda is to search for her mother, also a shadow-hunter, who has gone missing. Her mission is to find the magical artifact, the mortal cup, which her mother had hidden to protect it from the villains. As Clary embarks on the journey, she is constantly shielded by a fellow shadow-hunter Jace (Jamie Campbell Bower), who needs her for his own motives. With Jace in the picture, the love triangle is completed, as Clary is attracted to Jace’s flirtatious yet insensitive nature and his expertise at combat.

Even though Clary plays the role of the protagonist with punch, her supporting cast fail to back up the plot, and the lame, supposedly witty comments, fall flat. You will be, however, taken in with the action, which the movie wastes no time in introducing right at the beginning. However, the back-story is clumsily managed with thin characterisation.

And thus this soppy love story masquerading as a fantasy flick fights its way through attacks from monsters. Shadow-hunters would not suffice, which is why werewolves and a witch are also part of the picture. The Mortal Instruments fills your appetite with a platter full of otherworldly characters.

Clary does her best to emotionally anchor the movie in some kind of reality, but her transition from an ordinary girl to a vehement fighter does not ring true. Furthermore, the villains seem far too ordinary to make an impact, and the tension between the characters seems remote. For example, Valentine (Jonathan Rhys Meyers), the evil shadow-hunter searching for the mortal cup to further his wicked plans, struggles to bring his supposedly frightening character to life with silly speeches and little pigtails stuck to the back of his head.

The first initiative of the successful book series has definitely backfired, and now the producers must go back to the drawing board, having put the second sequel on hold, in order to save the franchise.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 22^nd, 2013.

Correction: In an earlier version of this article, Jace’s name was misspelled. The error has been fixed. 

If this book were written by a real Robert Galbraith, the pseudonym used by JK Rowling, it would have made a great debut. However, it isn’t, and Rowling, of Harry Potter fame, once again takes centre stage as the author of The Cuckoo’s Calling, a crime fiction novel set in the heart of London.

Rowling’s style gives her away throughout the book, right from the very beginning, with vivid descriptions and a particular attention to detail. It is rather unnerving at first, to see the author of a beloved children’s series transition so easily into adult fiction. Her new protagonist is practically a chain smoker, and her writing is peppered with swear words, making the language different from that of the Goblet of Fire.

The story centres on Cormoman Strike, a private investigator called in to explore the apparent suicide of Luna Landry, a famous supermodel. While police reports state that her death was purely an act of self destruction, Luna’s brother, John Bristow, has serious doubts, suspecting foul play, and thus hires Strike.

The son of an infamous rockstar, and a war veteran, Strike is a character beautifully constructed by Rowling. One would immediately draw physical comparisons to Rowling’s lovable Hagrid, but mentally, not so much. Strike would be best described as a man whose life is falling apart. He lost a leg during the war in Afghanistan, had to leave the love of his life, and is in severe debt. Enter Bistrow, who provides not only a financial lifeline, but a distraction of sorts for him.

Another significant character is Robin, a young woman who ends up working as Strike’s secretary. With a new case to crack, and a faithful sidekick (note how her name is Robin), Strike sets off to find out whether Landry committed suicide or was murdered.

The plot evolves rather slowly, as Strike interviews various people who may or may not have been connected to Landry’s death, with the occasional field assistance from Robin. An intricate web of clues is woven from a variety of different sources, with Strike carefully dissecting each and every hint. Mentions of the most miniscule details throw the reader off, but are just as essential to the case as other findings.

There is an evident contrast between the life of the detective and that of the former supermodel. Throughout his work, Strike is thrown into a word of lavish homes, drugs, and money. Socialising with supermodels and rock stars, producers and fashion designers, Strike is clearly drawn out to be an impressive character, not falling prey to all the glitz and glamour around him. In fact, Strike manages to use the opulence of their lives against these celebrities, taking advantage of the copious amounts of alcohol to elicit sensitive information from them. It becomes clear at one point that Strike has solved the case, but Rowling keeps the reader in suspense, revealing little as the story progresses.

As for the significance of the title, Cuckoo was a nickname given to Landry by her friends, and the title suggests that in a way, Landry was calling out to Strike, edging him on, pushing him towards the truth. Strike relates to her death in such a way that he becomes almost obsessive in his search for justice.

Available at Liberty Books for Rs1,395

Murder, they wrote

Joyland

Joyland, set in a small town amusement park in 1973, revolves around college student Devin Jones, who comes to work there that summer. Jones gets more than he bargained for however, when he is dragged into a homicide case which occurred four years ago.

Confessions of a Murder Suspect

When Malcolm and Maud Angel are murdered, their daughter Tandy is on the list of suspects and she can’t trust anyone, including herself. As she sets out to clear her name, Tandy discovers secrets, dangerous secrets better left hidden, and invites more danger into her life.

The 9^th Girl

A young woman’s body is found, so badly damaged that she is given the nickname zombie doe. She is the 9th female victim of the year and detectives Sam Kovac and Nikki Liska are called in to investigate the crimes.

Published in The Express Tribune, Sunday Magazine, September 22^nd, 2013.