No more stagefright

Central to their aspirations, I believe, is the Indian experience of democracy. At a presentation in Karachi8217;s National Academy of Pakistani Arts NAPA, I requested for India8217;s map. While explaining my points with reference to India8217;s map and glancing at Pakistan in the map, I suddenly became aware how Pakistanis must be wondering how our huge, almost an unwieldy, country with such vastness of socio-cultural and linguistic disparities could remain democratic for so long. Friends there used to express unconditional admiration for our democratic set up. They have witnessed so many upheavals storming our country and yet the foundations of democracy in India seem to be secure, they said8230; India8217;s presence is strongly felt there. Of course, we too have our share of right wingers creating nuisance on campuses and in such other liberal institutions, but here we have media and other supportive systems and judiciary doing an effective intervention. That is just not possible in Pakistan, or at least these systems are not as effective as ours.

Any kind of liberal self-expression, particularly in arts and politics, is completely denied, not only by the reigning governments but also by an overbearing clergy that so completely appears to dominate the thought process of common masses.

Like what8217;s happening to my friends Madeeha Gouhar and Shahid Nadeem from Lahore, who run a radical theatre group called Ajoka Theatre. The couple8217;s latest play, Burqavaganza, a socio-political satire on hypocrisy that uses burqa as metaphor for double-standards and cover-ups in society, was recently banned by the government at the instance of the clergy which claimed it was anti-Islamic. But Madeeha and Shahid are fighting it out. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the couple had named their two sons as Sarang and Nirban. Amused, I asked Madeeha how she gave 8220;Hindu8221; names to her sons, she chuckled and said, 8220;come on, there is nothing Hindu-Muslim about it. My cultural and sociological heritage is the same as yours. Panini wrote his grammar near Peshawar, and Vedas were written in the valleys of five rivers of Punjab. My religion may be Islam but this is my cultural heritage as much as it is yours and why should I abandon it?8221;

I thought in a country like Pakistan that really sounded not only brave but almost audacious. I marveled at her clarity and honesty and thought how happy would the two nations be if all, Muslims as well as Hindus, would think along these lines.

Khalid Ahmed, a theatre friend from Karachi, also speaks much the same way about 8220;common cultural heritage8221;.

All these people feel strongly bonded with India and Indians. So did I with them. A total stranger would be extra courteous to you when he finds out you are from India. Even my car driver said he had a lifetime desire to visit Varanasi from where his great-grandfather came.

Clearly, there are many more wanting to break free from the straight-jackets of artificially imposed barriers. There are likes of Sheema Kirwani, a kathak dancer who lives in Karachi and is fighting a lone battle in a land where dance is considered 8216;debauch8217;.

I was told by my Pakistani friends that it was during the 11-year old regime of Zia-ul-Haq that Pakistan went 1,100 years backwards in time. And curiously, Pervez Musharraf, although a military dictator, has been able to liberalise the general atmosphere to a great extent, if only for presenting Pakistan as a liberal, broadminded nation to the world that suspects it as a willing terrorist hideout.

I tend to believe that aspirations of the likes of Madeeha, Shahid, Sheema and Khalid are the triggering factors behind the current Pakistan happenings.

Could the uprising lead to restoration of a democracy that will care for the aspirants of a modern, secular and liberal Pakistan? Let8217;s hope so.

The writer is an acclaimed Marathi playwright