Danyal Adam Khan<\/a> Updated Aug 22, 2015 03:28pm \n\n \n \n \n\n \n\n\n \n \t\t\t<\/p>\n\n\n\n
| \n\t\t\t\t\tTicket booth for the ferris wheel at Uch Sharif | Danyal Adam Khan\n\t\t\t\t<\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table>\n\n\n\n It is mela season again and Uch Sharif is a sensory overload. The \ncelebrations start small as you make your way towards the town centre: \nscattered congregations of boys, an odd ferris wheel or men selling \ncotton candy on bicycles. These swell into a crowd by the time you reach\n the main bazaar of the town, and into an indistinguishable mass at the \nactual venue of the mela \u2014 a vast tract of land stretching as far as the\n eye can see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Negotiating its throngs with me is Ghulam Shabbir \u2014 \nor Shabbu for everyone. A young man in his late twenties, he is a \ndevout aide to Iftikhar Hassan Gillani who organises the mela every year\n in late spring. Shabbu is an expert navigator, pausing to use the \nauthority of his master \u2013 colloquially known as saeen<\/em> \u2013 in a booming voice to make way where the mela becomes too densely packed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Crowds\n moving in all directions and row upon row of stalls in no particular \norder \u2014 this is what chaos looks like. A blind man steps over a cripple \nbefore being pushed aside by a swarm of children donning golden birthday\n hats with photographs of unidentified babies. Two screaming toddlers \nare being pushed around in a wheel cart by their mother; their shrieks \npause momentarily as they pass a stall selling plastic masks. The mother\n herself is making frequent stops to admire the colourful array of \nbangles, jewellery and parandas<\/em>, hair extensions woven with \nthreads and beads. Teenage boys try on sunglasses under towering posters\n of Bollywood actresses. Others sell pendants which claim to ward off \nevil spirits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For those wanting a little more, a 20-rupee fee can get you access to\n a tent where women dance in a caged enclosure, readily accepting tips \nfrom fawning admirers.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n There is dust in the air and food is on display everywhere \u2014 pakoras and jalebis, ice-cream cones and kulfi, biryani and nihari<\/em>.\n Every few paces, someone is selling the delectable pink and white \nmithai quintessential to melas all over Punjab. There is an assortment \nof suspicious-looking drinks; when I point at a particularly colourful \ndisplay and ask Shabbu what it is, he winks and says, \u201cApple juice\u201d. \nOver the babble of the crowd are the competing announcements of those \nselling refreshments, each vendor claiming there is no soda like their \nsoda:<\/p>\n\n\n\n Soda ik vaari piyo ge, baar baar piyo ge; Shabbu suddenly swerves away from a \nfully-packed tram running through the mela, dodging carousels and pirate\n ships on its track with hairpin turns. On the side of a pathway, we \npass by a man with a snake casually flung over his shoulder, beckoning \npassers-by into a zoo; opposite him is a boy inviting you in to see a \nmagic show featuring a girl with the body of a snake. At the far end of \nthe mela, three theatres are being set up to which people will storm \nonce the night falls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n On raised platforms nearby, transgender \ndancers perform provocatively to blaring Seraiki tunes in front of a \nthoroughly amused crowd. For those wanting a little more, a 20-rupee fee\n can get you access to a tent where women dance in a caged enclosure, \nreadily accepting tips from fawning admirers. Shabbu ensures we walk as \nfar away from these temptations as possible and directs me towards the \ncrown attraction of the mela: maut ka kuan<\/em> or the Well of \nDeath. He leads me up a rickety staircase to the top of a cylindrical \nwooden arena where a crowd has already gathered, staring down at a \ncouple of women dancing \u2014 this is pre-performance entertainment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Soon,\n two motorcycles rev into life. With the ease of daily routine, the \ndrivers begin circling the bottom of the well \u2014 one round, two rounds \nand the vehicles are driven onto the walls of the arena, aided by \nstrategically placed wooden planks. The motorcyclists gradually edge \ntheir way up. Their pace quickens as they come closer and closer to the \naudience; they whiz past the crowd countless times. The well wobbles and\n shivers, the crowd hops and jumps, but everything remains intact. The \nperformers finally get so close to the audience that they can be \ntouched, jolting the planks and exciting viewers even more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the climax of their performance, the bikers start their \nacrobatics. One drives with his hands off the handle, the other raises \nthem above his head. One sits cross-legged, the other rides side-saddle \nwith his arms folded. On and on they go to the deafening applause of a \njubilant audience, until they slow their motorcycles to drive down to \nthe ground. It has ended too soon \u2014 but this lap will be followed by \nanother immediately afterwards, and another after that. Performers may \nchange, vehicles may differ, but maut ka kuan<\/em> remains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The\n environs of the mela beyond the confines of the wooden well are just as\n noisy. As afternoon changes into evening, the hubbub becomes stronger, \nwith the loudest of sights, sounds and smells competing for the \nattention of a crowd numbering a few hundred thousand. Commerce of every\n imaginable sort is raging in the mela and those in attendance are here \nto ensure they miss no opportunities.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe are lucky we are \ncelebrating this right now,\u201d says Shabbu, taking a deep drag on his \ncigarette as we make our way from the carnival towards Shams Mahal \u2014 \nGillani\u2019s home. \u201cThe government was refusing to give permission for the \nmela this year because of security reasons. It was only when saeen<\/em> made a trip to Lahore that he brought back permission for three days.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shabbu\n brushes the dust off his flowing hair and black shalwar kameez. He is \nsporting a scarlet thread on his wrist and a crimson stone on his finger\n \u2014 both blessed by his saeen.<\/em> Generations of Shabbu\u2019s family \nhave served Gillanis and his hope is that it will always remain that \nway. \u201cHe is all we have,\u201d says Shabbu. \u201cIf saeen<\/em> gives you his blessings, you need nothing else. If he curses you with bad luck, you cannot escape it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shabbu stops at the top of a small hillock with a full view of the \nmela in the distance. He points to the setting sun on the horizon. \u201cAs \nfar as your eye can see is saeen\u2019s raqba<\/em> \u2014 his landholding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gillani\u2019s automated wheelchair<\/strong> comes to a stop in \nfront of me, the mark of prayer prominent on his forehead. He contracted\n polio at a young age and has remained confined to a wheelchair his \nwhole life. This, however, has not hindered him from deftly managing \ntens of thousands of his devotees across Pakistan and the few thousand \nacres of land he has inherited from his father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There is an \nunmistakeable air of entitlement about him: sporting a flashy gold watch\n and an assortment of rings, he seems to assume the burden of his \nspiritual and feudal responsibilities with great confidence. Exhibited \non the walls of his dimly-lit drawing room are various family trees \ntowards which he proudly gestures as a proof of his descent from the \nProphet of Islam. Alongside these is an array of photographs; in each \none of these, he smiles down benignly, accompanied by the chief of one \nor the other major political party in Pakistan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Uch, a small town about 75 kilometres to the southwest of Bahawalpur,\n holds a high place in the subcontinent\u2019s Sufi pantheon. Ranked highest \namong its saints is Jalaluddin Bukhari, also known as Surkhposh (clad in\n red). Following him is his grandson, Makhdoom Jahanian Jahangasht \n(globetrotter). Another eminent saint buried in Uch is Syed Muhammad \nGhaus Bandagi Gillani, a descendant of Sheikh Abdul Qadir Gillani of \nBaghdad. He came to the town in the early 16th century and is also the \nancestor of Iftikhar Hassan Gillani and his vast clan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This clan\u2019s\n per-eminence in the power structure in Uch and its adjacent areas is of\n recent origin. A couple of decades ago, the Bukharis \u2013 descendants of \nJalaluddin \u2013 were as powerful as the Gillanis, if not more. Even the \nmela used to be held at a venue jointly owned and managed by the two \nclans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Over tea, Gillani tells the story of chaar yaar<\/em>, \nor four friends. \u201cIt was in the early 13th century when four Sufis got \ntogether in Uch Sharif,\u201d he says, referring to Lal Shahbaz Qalandar, \nBahauddin Zakariya, Fariduddin Ganj Shakar and Jalaluddin Bukhari. \n\u201cThese wise men began attracting followers that soon multiplied as they \nspread the word of God; pilgrims would walk long distances to hear them \nspeak. It is in remembrance of their meeting that this mela is \norganised, and it has been so for centuries.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gillani\u2019s son, \nAhmer, a business graduate from a university in Lahore, explains that \nthe mela is spread over four consecutive Fridays. \u201cThe celebrations on \neach Friday are based upon events from the time of chaar yaar<\/em>.\u201d The first two gatherings are relatively small affairs but the third \u2013 called pandri<\/em> \u2013 is massive as \u201cthousands of women gather to exorcise their demons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n These are women supposedly possessed by jinns, and a khalifa<\/em>,\n or deputy, of Gillani performs the exorcism in a public ceremony to rid\n them of the apparitions. In Gillani\u2019s guest house, I meet Allah Ditta, \nan ageing man with piercing grey eyes. He is the head of a group of \naround 20 khalifas who have been assigned different areas in Gillani\u2019s \nsprawling spiritual domain. At the time of the pandri mela, they all \ngather at Uch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The khalifa initiates the exorcism process by \ncommunicating with the jinn. He recites verses from the Quran and makes \nthe jinn play to the beat of a dhol. If the jinn refuses to respond, the\n khalifa<\/em> resorts to a firmer approach: hitting the possessed \nwoman with a stick. \u201cOf course, this does not affect the possessed,\u201d \ninterjects Shabbu quickly. \u201cThe woman is not herself; it is the jinn \nthat gets the beating.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n When the jinn finally makes his appearance felt, no one but the khalifa<\/em> can see him. Nor does he speak with anyone else. \u201cIf someone [other than the khalifa<\/em>]\n tries to approach the woman, the jinn will slap them. And it will be a \nslap that they will really remember,\u201d says Shabbu, with one hand on his \ncheek as if recalling a personal experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Towards the end of \nthe ceremony, the exorcist questions the jinn: \u201cWhy are you here? What \ndo you want? Why have you taken hold of this woman?\u201d He then \ncommunicates the demands to her relatives for the apparition to leave \nher body. Sometimes these are religious \u2013 perform an umrah or visit a \ncertain shrine every month \u2013 but sometimes they are trivial \u2014 eat \nhalf-cooked meat or drink a vial of fragrance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt is entirely up \nto the jinn if he wants to return by the next mela,\u201d says Ditta, leaning\n back to rest. \u201cOf course, we can permanently get rid of him but we need\n saeen\u2019s<\/em> permission for that. For us, after all, there is God in the heavens and then saeen<\/em> on earth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Next morning, in<\/strong> the veranda of Shams Mahal, Gillani\n is receiving devotees from near and far. Among them is an odd group: \nblowing their conches and accompanied by an unceasing beat of the dhol, \nthese men with knotted beards and locks carry skewers in their hands. \nGillani signals them to come forward. One by one they present themselves\n and lay their skewers at his feet. Then \u2013 with the conches and dhol \nblaring \u2013 they pass the skewers through one cheek and out the other. \nSome of them break into an impromptu dhamaal<\/em> during the act. Gillani flips through currency notes and keeps handing out change to each of the men as they approach him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A\n swarm of followers then mobs Gillani, everyone rushing forward to touch\n his feet or kiss his hand. He indifferently hands out small slips of \npaper carrying verses from the Quran to eager devotees seeking \nbenediction. Then he leads a short, collective prayer, and people start \ndispersing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Riaz Bhutta does not approve of the skewer show. \u201cCall\n me a coward, but I can\u2019t bear to look at them when they poke those rods\n through their faces,\u201d he says with a chuckle. An occasional columnist \nand an acclaimed Seraiki linguist, he is the brain behind the successful\n combination of spiritual legacy, feudal power and electoral politics \nthat has sent Gillani to the Punjab Assembly as a member multiple times \nover the last 20 years. Not just that, Gillanis now dominate the local \npolitical scene completely. His nephew, Ali Hassan Gillani, is a member \nof the National Assembly and his brother, Syed Zafar Hassan Gillani, is a\n former head of the town\u2019s municipal government.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The contract for \nthe mela is auctioned out, explains Bhutta, sitting in the now empty \nveranda of Shams Mahal. \u201cThe contractor then rents out the land to \ndifferent stall owners, circuses and theatres.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOf course, we can permanently get rid of [the jinn] but we need \nsaeen\u2019s permission for that. For us, after all, there is God in the \nheavens and then saeen on earth.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n According to Bhutta, and contrary to popular perception, crowds at \nthe Uch mela have been increasing over the years. \u201cThere may be many \nentertainment opportunities in big cities but all we have here is this \nmela for people to get out of their homes and have some fun. All over \nsouth Punjab, people save money the whole year for this mela.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Because\n of the deteriorating security situation nationwide, though, he says it \nis becoming increasingly difficult to get the government approval for \nthe mela. \u201cThe district administration does not want to take \nresponsibility for anything,\u201d he laments. \u201cEven though there have been \nbarely any untoward incidents [in Uch], the officials are scared of the \nrepercussions if something were to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Their fears are not \nimaginary. Over the last five years or so melas and Sufi shrines in \nPunjab have come under terrorist attacks quite regularly. On April 3, \n2011, twin suicide blasts hit the shrine of Sakhi Sarwar in Dera Ghazi \nKhan district while devotees had gathered there in the thousands to \ncelebrate the saint\u2019s death anniversary, or urs in Sufi vernacular. \nAbout 50 people lost their lives and scores others were hurt. On October\n 25, 2010, at least six people, including two women, died when a bomb \nblast hit the boundary wall of Baba Farid Ganj Shakar\u2019s shrine in \nPakpattan during the saint\u2019s urs. One of the province\u2019s oldest shrines \u2013\n that of Data Ganj Bakhsh in Lahore \u2013 was targeted with two massive \nsuicide attacks on July 1, 2010, resulting in the death of 50 people and\n injuries to 200 others.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Even though the government has allowed the Uch mela to go ahead this \nyear, it has withheld permission for one of its main attractions \u2014 the \nLucky Irani Circus, which could have easily doubled both the number of \npeople at the mela, and the possible threats to their security.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With an air<\/strong> of unshakeable confidence, a performer \nclimbs onto a raised platform in the centre of an arena. He smiles and \nwaves at the audience as his assistant hands him a hollow cylinder which\n he places on the ground horizontally. On top of this, he places \nanother, vertically this time, above which he puts one more \nhorizontally. On top of this, he will place the plank on which he is to \nbalance himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The assistant steps back to let the show begin, \nexcept the performer signals her to hand him another cylinder. A nervous\n smile flashes across her face. Is he going too far? She hands the \ncylinder to him nonetheless and then another, which he adds to the \nwobbly pile. Gingerly, he puts one foot onto the plank, and then the \nother. One second \u2014 the structure is rocking; two seconds \u2014 it swings \nfrom side to side; three seconds \u2014 the whole thing collapses onto the \nplatform amid gasps from onlookers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A technician comes running out\n to check if the performer is hurt, but he is up on his feet in a flash.\n The legs of the platform are tested to ensure perfect balance on the \nground, and the performer begins working with five cylinders again. He \nwill succeed this time and the crowd will roar with delight. This is The\n Great Pakistani Circus, which has been entertaining audiences in \nKarachi since March this year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis is a new initiative of ours,\u201d\n explains Mian Amjad Farzand in his fourth-floor office in Lahore\u2019s \nGulberg area. The middle-aged entrepreneur leans back in his chair to \ntake a drag on his cigarette; he has been managing his father\u2019s mammoth \nlegacy \u2013 the Lucky Irani Circus \u2013 for 23 years now. \u201cWe felt that the \nurban Pakistani crowd was disconnected from such entertainment, so we \nare trying to draw that group of people back to the circus.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The \nLucky Irani Circus, in contrast, is a creaking old establishment. Set up\n by Mian Farzand Ali in 1969, it used to be an essential feature at \nevery major mela in Punjab \u2014 at least, until recently. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Traditionally,\n the mela season would begin in February every year and continue well \ninto the summer. It started with the travelling spring festival known as\n basant, reached a climax around the vaisakhi melas \u2013 or \nwheat-harvesting celebrations \u2013 in countless villages and towns across \nPunjab and culminated in urs celebrations at the shrines of revered Sufi\n saints.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The most famous mela trail in the province is known as Sang da Mela \u2013\n or the festival of companionship \u2013 which retraces the journey of the \n13th century saint Sakhi Sarwar from Dhonkal, a small town near \nGujranwala, to a place in the middle of the Suleiman Range on the \nwestern edge of Punjab. The trail passes through large towns and cities \nsuch as Jhang, Faisalabad, Multan and Dera Ghazi Khan, occasioning big \nmelas at all these places.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Outside the trail, some major melas \nalso take place during this time of the year, including Lahore\u2019s Mela \nChiraghan (in late March) and a series of others scattered between March\n and June in otherwise little known places such as Ranmal in Mandi \nBahauddin district, Bhiri Shah Rehman in Hafizabad district, Shah Jewna \nin Jhang district, Jalalpur Pirwala in Multan district and, of course, \nUch in Bahawalpur district.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At its peak, the Lucky Irani Circus \nwould move from one mela to the next, following a haphazard calendar \nthat randomly hopped from one place to another. Most of these melas have\n become off-limits for the circus due to security reasons over the last \nfew years \u2014 yet its eccentric and skilled ensemble of trained animals \nand multiple other attractions are still a part of its entertainment \noeuvre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Lucky Irani Circus employs over 400 people, including \n180 labourers, 20 managers, technicians, drivers and dozens of \nperformers \u2014 both local and foreign. To mobilise these is no small task:\n 20 trucks are deployed to transport all the personnel and equipment, \nenough to occupy acres of land on its own. \u201cYou will rarely come across a\n mobile circus in the world which does a show every day without a \nbreak,\u201d says Farzand with a hint of pride as he reminisces about the \nglory days of the Lucky Irani Circus. \u201cSo can you imagine the loss \nincurred each time we are not given permission?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I broach the subject of the mela at Uch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat\n mela is one of the biggest events of its kind in the country,\u201d responds\n Farzand, with obvious frustration. He talks about the milling crowds at\n the Uch mela as a security nightmare for any administration to handle. \nEven if the authorities attempt it, says Farzand, there is no way that \nthey can manage and control the hundreds of thousands people there. \n\u201cThen why stop us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He also talks about the elaborate security \narrangements the circus has mustered on its own. \u201cWe have 50 armed \nguards, walk-through gates and security walls,\u201d he says, counting on his\n fingers. \u201cWe are not asking the government to provide us with anything \nbut the least it can do is review our arrangements. If they are found to\n be inadequate, we are willing to do more.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The primary reason why the Lucky Irani Circus has sustained for over \nfour decades is its legacy; it is around because it has been around for \nso long. \u201cThe public is starving for entertainment,\u201d Farzand gestures \ndramatically with his hands. \u201cWhen we cancel our performance in a \ndistrict, we are bombarded with phone calls, asking us when we will \nreturn. Given the dearth of entertainment facilities in rural areas, I\u2019m\n not surprised.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the Lahore office of Punjab Lok Sujag, a \nnon-profit research group working on the promotion of Punjabi language \nand culture, melas are viewed neither as spiritual festivals nor as \nvenues for commerce and entertainment. They are treated as shared public\n space for collective cultural expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBefore Partition, \npeople of all faiths used to participate in melas together,\u201d says Tahir \nMehdi, one of the founders of the organisation. \u201cThe Sufis and their \nshrines \u2013 like that of Shah Hussain in Lahore \u2013 were owned by people of \nall religions. Even urs celebrations were held according to the desi \nsolar calendar, not in tandem with the lunar Islamic one, making them \ncultural festivals rather than religious events, he explains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For \nMehdi, the most important facet of a mela was that it provided a \nplatform to folk artists, such as musicians, dancers, puppeteers and \ntheatre performers, to showcase their art. They were present in every \nrural settlement and received a fixed share from the harvest as \ncompensation for their work without having to plough, sow or reap. \nBecause these artists were an intrinsic part of their communities, says \nMehdi, they were fully aware of the fears and aspirations of the common \npeople. This understanding, in turn, reflected in their art. \nEntertainment was merely a by-product of that, Mehdi explains. \u201cThey did\n exactly what art is supposed to do; they gave people a voice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The\n commercialisation of the mela, according to him, is not what has killed\n folk artists. It is just a symptom, produced by an economic system \nbased entirely on money and markets. \u201cIn a thriving cash economy, you \nsell your surplus in the market and pay your mobile phone bill or buy a \ncoca cola,\u201d he says. \u201cOr you go to a mela and buy a ticket to a circus \nor go watch motorcyclists performing in maut ka kuan. You do not support\n a folk artist.\u201d Commerce and entertainment, thus, take over tradition \nand culture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Faizu Kukkarbaaz is<\/strong> a Seraiki superstar. On a hot \nafternoon during the Uch mela, he emerges from a tent in a wrinkled \nwhite shalwar kameez, stretching and yawning away \u2014 his nap has been cut\n short. His eyes shine with a mischievous glint as if he is always \nthinking of the next quip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Faizu has been a public performer \u2013 a \none-man comedy show, to be precise \u2013 for 18 years, having spent more \nthan two-thirds of this time in rural and city theatres. \u201cName any \nPakistani star, such as Moin Akhtar or Umer Shareef, and this man in \nfront of you is comparable to them in south Punjab. He is a modern Alam \nLohar,\u201d says Faizu\u2019s aide and sidekick, Zulfiqar Zulfi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The \nstifling tent is full of admirers by now, including a couple of \npolicemen. With a rose garland around his neck, Faizu leans back \ncasually on his charpoy. \u201cLook at how other superstars are, with all \ntheir airs, protocol and gunmen, and look at Faizu. He should have been \nin a fancy hotel but he prefers to be one with the people,\u201d says Zulfi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe public has given me a lot of love,\u201d speaks the comedian himself,\n as everyone goes quiet. \u201cMy car has never been stopped at a checkpoint.\n If it has, they have only spent two or three hours talking to me,\u201d he \nsays, laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Soon it becomes obvious that this is more of a \nperformance than a conversation. The line between fact and fiction blurs\n as I hear about the time when Faizu and his associates performed in the\n tribal areas for 17,000 soldiers. Or about the time when he was \nkidnapped, blindfolded, and taken to \u201cthe mountains\u201d only to be greeted \nby a tribal chief who was a fan. The anecdotes follow one after the \nother and all those present are thoroughly captivated. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cName any Pakistani star, such as Moin Akhtar or Umer Shareef, and \nthis man in front of you is comparable to them in south Punjab. He is a \nmodern Alam Lohar.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I ask Faizu about the long-vanished folk artists who used to render \nfolk tales and Sufi poetry in their theatre performances. \u201cNobody wants \nto see that now,\u201d he says dismissively. \u201cThis is the modern age. People \nwant more enjoyment in less time \u2014 and we give them that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Back in\n the day, he says, nobody had a daily work routine. People had plenty of\n time at their disposal which they could spend in watching long drawn \nout traditional performances. \u201cNow people would much rather buy a \nticket, have a quick laugh and go home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Faizu\u2019s own appeal can be\n summed up in his ability to crack jokes rooted in everyday life. \n\u201cThousands of people of all ages line up to see him because he makes \nthem laugh about simple things that they can relate to,\u201d says Zulfi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At\n night, half the mela seems to be battling to get into Faizu\u2019s theatre \nthrough a haphazard ticketing system. Others take easy routes: crawling \nin from under the canvas screens or barging in through gaps in the tent \nhall. Policemen freely wield batons on unruly crowds and disabled men \ndrag themselves closer to the stage. The chaos of pushing and shoving is\n heightened by the onset of a dust storm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Amid this tumult, Faizu \nis holding forth. He hardly utters a phrase and the thousands of men in \nthe audience roar with laughter. \u201cDo you have any idea who I am?\u201d Faizu \nasks. \u201cEven the entire police station empties out when I get there!\u201d \nZulfi feigns a scared salute. \u201cThat\u2019s because I have to clean the \nplace,\u201d Faizu adds, as an old man at the front nearly topples over \nlaughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then Aasia enters. The audience is suddenly sitting \nupright, all eyes focused on her as she thunders onstage with her \nsuggestive dance moves. Faizu himself sways to the Seraiki music on one \nside as Zulfi romances Aasia in true filmi fashion. Thousands of \nunblinking eyes are glued to each thumka \u2014 nobody is leaving anytime \nsoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt was never<\/strong> like this,\u201d says Dr Fouzia Saeed, the \nexecutive director of Lok Virsa, a state-run, Islamabad-based \ninstitution meant for the preservation and promotion of cultural \nactivities. \u201cThough such dances or variety shows were used in folk \ntheatre a few decades ago as well, they were always employed as a break \nbetween the plays themselves,\u201d she says. \u201cOver time, vulgarity took \nover, swallowing the plays entirely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n In Saeed\u2019s analysis, both \nlogistical and commercial considerations on part of the theatre groups \nare to be blamed for the rise of obscene dances and lewd jokes on stage.\n \u201cIt is far cheaper for the owner of the theatre group to send a girl on\n stage for an item number than hire a whole crew and cast of actors for a\n play.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cA huge contribution to the decline of theatre was made by many big \nnames associated with it,\u201d says Saeed. She has spent years researching \nfolk theatre in Pakistan, in particular the role of women within it. \n\u201cMany of the old actors and actresses I have interviewed say they would \nbe waiting backstage with make-up and costume on for hours but some star\n performer or the other would refuse to leave the stage.\u201d Theatre then \nbecame more about individual rather than collective performances, she \nsays.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A few of these big names, indeed, have shaped the \ndevelopment of Pakistani popular entertainment and music in the past \nhalf century. One of them was the multi-talented Inayat Hussain Bhatti \u2014\n a theatre singer who later became a film actor, director, producer and \nwriter. There was the steely-willed Bali Jatti, the first woman in \nPakistan to own a travelling performance group, remembered by many as \nthe queen of folk theatre. To top them all was the man who made Punjabi \nfolk music synonymous with his name for two decades \u2014 the inimitable \nAlam Lohar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His son, Arif, is considered to be among the last \ngeneration of folk singers in Pakistan. Just recently, he tells me \nproudly at his home in Lahore, he was ranked the third-best folk \nperformer in the world. He offers me a cup of tea and flicks his flowing\n locks off his shoulder. I ask him about his father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBy my \nestimate, he would sing at least five hours a day, if not more, for \nabout 300 days a year,\u201d says Arif. \u201cAnd to do it without a loudspeaker! \nHe would call out to people at the back of the audience and ask them if \nthey could hear him. If not, he would raise his voice even more.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lohar\n began small. Coming from a family of blacksmiths, he took up a pair of \ntongs at an early age and converted its metallic sound into music. Soon \nhe became a much sought-after performer. At some point in the 1960s, he\n set up his own theatre group. His flamboyant personality, dazzling \nsmile and snazzy appearance would enthrall audiences as much as his \nunrestrained, high-pitch musical performances \u2014 for years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alam \nLohar also perfected the mix that attracted audiences like nothing else:\n liberal doses of spiritual and Sufi poetry, romantic folk tales, \ncelebration of folk heroes with huge amounts of glamour and glitter \nthrown in for effect. His was a highly successful commercial product in a\n revered traditional wrapping. Not only could Alam Lohar sing for people\n what they wanted and how they wanted it, he could do it with the \npanache of an artist and the acumen of a businessman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe was very\n competitive, and would never miss a chance to sing a note above a \nfellow artist,\u201d says Arif laughingly. \u201cI remember crowds stretched over \nmiles gathering wherever he performed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alam Lohar\u2019s eponymous \ntheatre slowly fizzled out after his death in 1979. Arif eventually \nstarted his own Chand Theatre, replete with the latest technology, \nsymbolic steel walls and a solid stage. This venture, however, had to be\n wound up ostensibly for security reasons, but in reality because of the\n changed tastes of audiences and failure to compete with monsters such \nas television, Indian movies and the Internet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Arif gives an \ninnocent answer when asked what future he envisions in Pakistan for folk\n entertainers such as himself and his illustrious father. \u201cAll us \nartists can hope for and give away is the love we feel within us. \nWithout it we are nothing. Even when it is not reciprocated, take this \nmessage of love and send it as far out as you possibly can,\u201d he quotes \nhis father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n With a smile, he recites some verses from Alam Lohar\u2019s famous song Jugni:<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ayi jawani har koi waikhay, jaandi kisay nai dithi (Everyone sees youth approaching; none see it leave, Lohar\u2019s\n timeless reflection on love is also a portrayal of the inevitable \ncontinuity of life. Even after mutating into a commercial enterprise, \nfuelled by spirituality, powered by money and sustained by political \nauthority, the mela has also continued. This is because, regardless of \nexternal evolution, the core principle behind it has remained valid \nacross time: an opportunity to drown worldly anxieties for a while. This\n is why the mela has existed and, in one form or the other, will \ncontinue to thrive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This was originally published in Herald’s June 2015 issue. To read more, subscribe<\/a> to Herald in print.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n |