Almost every city you can think of has an older area in or around it. Islamabad has Saidpur village, Lahore has the Walled City, Hyderabad has Hirabad and Khairpur has Kot Diji. Karachi is one such entity whose old town is crammed with beautiful heritage buildings, from back in the pre-Partition era – buildings that we ignore on a daily basis, because to be able to really see those old beauties we’d have to leave our air-conditioned motorized vehicles and walk.
Have you ever come across old black-and-white pictures of Karachi? Pictures from the 1980s that show streets of the city with British colonial buildings in the background and people walking by casually. Notice how often in these pictures, people of all classes can be seen cruising around on foot.
Lakra Walla
When we think of Karachi we imagine a city with people getting mugged every minute, locals getting conned every hour and bombs getting blasted everyday – especially for the travelers who hear about these dangers through media and would do anything to avoid coming here. While all of this has some truth to it, most of it is exaggerated.
To be sure, there was a time when the political situation of the city wouldn’t allow us to even step foot outside the house for days. But circumstances have changed the recent years. It’s easier to walk – not just inside malls – and yet we are afraid of the ghost of the past and remain mostly inside concrete structures, from homes to schools to work places to restaurants to malls, constantly moving in our vehicles.
Mercantile Bank
It’s not that people don’t walk anymore: sidewalks of the city are being used by pedestrians, hawkers and sometimes even motorbikes. People who commute in cars, buses and bikes strategizing mentally for the fastest routes and reaching their stops in the heads, we’re so busy getting to places that we forget what else is out there.
Karachi is a place with much architectural treasure hidden inside of it that most people haven’t even heard of.
When I moved to this city I had the same preconceived notions of getting eaten alive if I walked outside specially alone. Being a lady, social norms do get infused in your head and it takes ages to escape from what society taught you, to comprehend what is real.
Aziz Mansion
So, one fine day, I took my camera and strolled alone on foot to visit these old places that I had seen only during commutes or in history books, knowing full well that I’d receive stares and verbal comments or worse, that I might even get mugged! I decided to experience it myself. Those people on the streets that we’re so afraid of, who are they? Let me tell you. They’re normal everyday commuters or local businessmen running their shops or offices, very similar to the rest of us. I found that out firsthand by visiting these places in search of pre-Partition buildings that have sustained through eras of cultural and religious implications
I walked my way through every crooked nook and narrow corner, every cramped up street and dirty warehouse of Saddar Town. I witnessed beauty of buildings like Dawarkadas Meghraj Nagpal Building at the intersection of Bellasis Street and Outram street of Pakistan Chowk; Lakrawalla Building, a gem that hides it’s wooden work interior inside a plain exterior in Pakistan Chowk; Aziz Mansion, a twin residence turned warehouse, that lies in the depths of Jodia Bazaar’s spices and dry fruits, it’s 100 year old floors and cast iron railings truly worth witnessing; Jahangir Kothari Building, one of the few towered buildings of Karachi; and the Mercantile Bank building, that most people pass by everyday on M.A Jinnah Road without noticing.
Jahangir Kothari
These are just a few examples of the pre-Partition buildings that still exist with their Venetian, Gothic and Mughal architectural styles. Many more buildings lie in the deepest parts of the city without name or structural care. We must cherish these aesthetics that we would never create again, layout spaces that we would never live in, especially knowing that they might vanish in the next few decades.
As far as the fear is concerned, I talked to people who ran businesses in their shops, the hawkers who’ve encroached the footpaths, learnt their stories, introduced them to mine, and I realized they’re like me and you, people minding their own businesses, literally.
You can walk these old streets and tap into the atmospheric character on a Saturday morning when business is open and streets thriving, vehicular traffic up to the brim and pedestrians spilling over from the footpaths as they’ve been hogged by hawkers. Or go on a Sunday morning when the streets are clear and quiet and all you want to do is have breakfast at a dhaba!
The author is an architect, traveler and storyteller
