The funny Faryal Gohar:
The highlight of the event for me was the book-reading session by Faryal Gohar. She recalled her emotional bonding with the women of Gilgit Baltistan while working for a non-profit initiative there. Her travel enabled her to converse more frequently with the women from this and other congruent impoverished areas, inspiring her to write a book named “Darwaza”, which, she said, would also be turned into a movie. She read a few passages from her book “No Space For Further Burials”, which was like a roller coaster ride. Faryal’s voice trembled as she went through the ups and downs in the emotionally charged text, exhibiting pleasure and excitement eloquently before finally breaking down at an emotional juncture in the story. Everybody in the audience was hooked to her majestically articulated words. However, later the discussion took a lighter turn when she was asked by Ritu Menon, the moderator of the session, to mimic Shahbaz Sharif and Bilawal Bhutto Zardari, which she did wonderfully, making The Metro Bus System and The Sindh Festival the target of her humour. Later on, while responding to the a question from the audience both Ritu Menon and Faryal Gohar reiterated the need to dislodge the concept that the sole purpose of a woman’s life is to get married.
At the end, Faryal Gohar also had a go at Gordon Brown and the western media for cashing in on Malala. When a proposal to build around 400 schools in the earthquake-hit northern areas of Pakistan was presented to Gordon Brown, he had remained indifferent, but it is shameless how he is now treating Malala, from the same northern areas, like a mascot to further his political gains.
The hollow diplomats:
The discussion on the next chapter of Afghanistan by a panel of retired Pakistani diplomats seemed hollow and boring. Besides, there was a disconnect between the discussion and ground realities. Furthermore, questions raised by the audience on Taliban’s participation in the peace process, a puppet American government in Afghanistan, and Pakistan’s image in the streets of Kabul went unanswered. None of the panelists entertained these questions.
The turnout at this session was also comparatively low. Perhaps most people wanted to stay indoors in the air-conditioned halls.
The incomplete panel of Pashto poets:
It was encouraging to see regional languages such as Pashto getting attention and recognized at a national stage. Even more encouraging was to see non-Pashto speakers (such as Punjabis and Sindhis) in the audience. However, disappointing was the lack of effort put into the selection of the panelists. Apart from one of the panelists, the chairperson of Pashto Academy at University of Peshawar, Ms Salma Shaheen (who couldn’t make it to the event), most of the poets were unknown even to the most literary Pukhtuns in the audience. Even more bizarre was the non-availability of a moderator.
Audience interest would have been greatly enhanced had there been more poetry (and translation) as promised in the session’s title: “Poetry from the troubled land: Pashto Poetry Reading with Translation”. But, it turned out to be more talk and less poetry.
Mission possible, reforming state schools in Pakistan:
Despite the fact that this session was also organized in the open, it turned out to be as good as it gets. A panel of experts on education providing solutions as to how we can improve the quality (and quantity) of public education. To begin with, the moderator of the session, Baela Raza Jamil, presented some staggering figures that showed the dismal picture of public education in Pakistan. Later on, the panel stressed the need for a coordinated effort from parliamentarians, lawmakers, media outlets and the general public.
One of the panelists, Faisal Bari, a faculty member at Lahore University of Management Sciences, said that unless parliamentarians admit their children to public schools, they will have no stakes in their improvement. One interesting case in point is a parliamentarian from Faisalabad, who despite his family’s stern opposition, admitted his children into a public school, leading him to frequently visit and transform the place. Faisal Bari further stressed that the discussion, even in the development circles, was on ‘testing’ and ‘monitoring’ and not the quality of education which needs a complete rethink.
The book fair:
Fortunately, literary festivals are accompanied by book fairs. There were around half a dozen stalls of different book publishers. And while I was standing at one of the book stalls, a salesperson came forth and gave me a card. It read, where would you prefer to attend our next book fair? The options included preferred locations in Islamabad only. However, to my pleasant surprise there was an “other” option at the bottom of that card, in which I neatly transcribed, “Peshawar”. When he read the card, he gave me a smile of understanding, like he could understand my pain. I have gone all the way from Peshawar to attend this event and I want such festivals to come to my beloved city Peshawar as well.
The highlight of the event for me was the book-reading session by Faryal Gohar. She recalled her emotional bonding with the women of Gilgit Baltistan while working for a non-profit initiative there. Her travel enabled her to converse more frequently with the women from this and other congruent impoverished areas, inspiring her to write a book named “Darwaza”, which, she said, would also be turned into a movie. She read a few passages from her book “No Space For Further Burials”, which was like a roller coaster ride. Faryal’s voice trembled as she went through the ups and downs in the emotionally charged text, exhibiting pleasure and excitement eloquently before finally breaking down at an emotional juncture in the story. Everybody in the audience was hooked to her majestically articulated words. However, later the discussion took a lighter turn when she was asked by Ritu Menon, the moderator of the session, to mimic Shahbaz Sharif and Bilawal Bhutto Zardari, which she did wonderfully, making The Metro Bus System and The Sindh Festival the target of her humour. Later on, while responding to the a question from the audience both Ritu Menon and Faryal Gohar reiterated the need to dislodge the concept that the sole purpose of a woman’s life is to get married.
At the end, Faryal Gohar also had a go at Gordon Brown and the western media for cashing in on Malala. When a proposal to build around 400 schools in the earthquake-hit northern areas of Pakistan was presented to Gordon Brown, he had remained indifferent, but it is shameless how he is now treating Malala, from the same northern areas, like a mascot to further his political gains.
The hollow diplomats:
The discussion on the next chapter of Afghanistan by a panel of retired Pakistani diplomats seemed hollow and boring. Besides, there was a disconnect between the discussion and ground realities. Furthermore, questions raised by the audience on Taliban’s participation in the peace process, a puppet American government in Afghanistan, and Pakistan’s image in the streets of Kabul went unanswered. None of the panelists entertained these questions.
The turnout at this session was also comparatively low. Perhaps most people wanted to stay indoors in the air-conditioned halls.
The incomplete panel of Pashto poets:
It was encouraging to see regional languages such as Pashto getting attention and recognized at a national stage. Even more encouraging was to see non-Pashto speakers (such as Punjabis and Sindhis) in the audience. However, disappointing was the lack of effort put into the selection of the panelists. Apart from one of the panelists, the chairperson of Pashto Academy at University of Peshawar, Ms Salma Shaheen (who couldn’t make it to the event), most of the poets were unknown even to the most literary Pukhtuns in the audience. Even more bizarre was the non-availability of a moderator.
Audience interest would have been greatly enhanced had there been more poetry (and translation) as promised in the session’s title: “Poetry from the troubled land: Pashto Poetry Reading with Translation”. But, it turned out to be more talk and less poetry.
Mission possible, reforming state schools in Pakistan:
Despite the fact that this session was also organized in the open, it turned out to be as good as it gets. A panel of experts on education providing solutions as to how we can improve the quality (and quantity) of public education. To begin with, the moderator of the session, Baela Raza Jamil, presented some staggering figures that showed the dismal picture of public education in Pakistan. Later on, the panel stressed the need for a coordinated effort from parliamentarians, lawmakers, media outlets and the general public.
One of the panelists, Faisal Bari, a faculty member at Lahore University of Management Sciences, said that unless parliamentarians admit their children to public schools, they will have no stakes in their improvement. One interesting case in point is a parliamentarian from Faisalabad, who despite his family’s stern opposition, admitted his children into a public school, leading him to frequently visit and transform the place. Faisal Bari further stressed that the discussion, even in the development circles, was on ‘testing’ and ‘monitoring’ and not the quality of education which needs a complete rethink.
The book fair:
Fortunately, literary festivals are accompanied by book fairs. There were around half a dozen stalls of different book publishers. And while I was standing at one of the book stalls, a salesperson came forth and gave me a card. It read, where would you prefer to attend our next book fair? The options included preferred locations in Islamabad only. However, to my pleasant surprise there was an “other” option at the bottom of that card, in which I neatly transcribed, “Peshawar”. When he read the card, he gave me a smile of understanding, like he could understand my pain. I have gone all the way from Peshawar to attend this event and I want such festivals to come to my beloved city Peshawar as well.