PESHAWAR, Feb 11: The Bala Hisar Fort, a centuries old strategically important military bastion and a historic landmark, has been considered one of the most secured places in Peshawar.

Out of bound for the public and being house to a strong paramilitary Frontier Corps for decades, it has been a symbol of invincibility, power, strength and confidence for Peshawarites.

Perhaps, part of it was an illusion. A few months ago, its occupants laid down another layer of cordon around the mammoth Fort, beefing up its security.

The wrought-iron fence, erected on the outer edge of the greenbelt, a buffer between Bala Hisar’s high brown brick walls and the roads around it, has not elicited reaction even from those who believe in preserving the nation’s heritage.

Perhaps, people of Peshawar have long stopped taking Bala Hisar as a historical monument. The city’s generations and generations remained without an opportunity to see the Fort’s splendid interior and explore their city’s past associated with the Fort or to peep into its history by touching its interior. They have never had an opportunity to take a view of the city from its top, from the archers’ posts.

The Peshawarites did not take note of the new fence that has caged the architectural splendor of a distant past. The Fort has no heritage value for many of Peshawarites since they have never been let to affiliate with it or develop some sort of emotional attachment with it.

Hopefully, the Frontier Corps is more secured now as a result of the new security arrangement.

Important buildings, housing state institutions and functionaries, are protected well anywhere in the world. Cities with greater challenges to their peace and security spend more money and time to counter threats and prevent damage to public life and property. They do it out of necessity and compulsion. Some feel it imperative to maintain the citizens’ confidence in their government’s ability to protect them.

In view of the heightened militancy in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and the adjoining tribal areas, the security measures taken in Peshawar do not make it an exception. Similar examples, like Kabul or Colombo, convey a sickening sense of relief to a common Peshawarite: that peace comes at a heavy price.

The price being endured by Peshawarites is the deteriorating quality of life, loss of civil liberties, loss of ease of movement, and a deep-rooted fear that has gripped the daily life of a common citizen. Life, at all, is not normal in Peshawar, many believe.

Roads going to the Chief Minister’s residence-cum-office and Governor House are closed to general traffic because of security arrangements for those who may not be living in these buildings after some months. Then CM Hoti and Governor Kausar would be moving the same city roads with a couple of personal gunmen like Pir Sabir Shah, Sardar Mehtab, or Aftab Sherpao – all former chief ministers.

The CM and governor’s security is of utmost significance, but it should not be at the cost of the general public’s ease of movement.

Similarly, the senior army and police officers, and provincial ministers occupying residential compounds along The Mall and other Cantonment roads would all be gone or retired in due course of time. Some of them might not be able to afford a contingent of security guards outside their abodes like the State has provided them now.

Then why are so many hazards for the public in the name of security for those who are nothing but ordinary human beings? Why are army soldiers checking national identity cards of all those who pass through military checkposts? Instead of checking people’s IDs, why don’t the soldiers bodily search them to prevent the entry of arms and ammunition in the Cantonment if they are really serious about its security?

The closure of some important Cantonment roads has added to commuters’ problems, spending hours daily in gridlocks on Peshawar’s main arteries.

And if you want to enjoy a walk using Thandee Sarak (as The Mall was once known because of the tree cover) you should be mentally prepared that a military policeman might not allow you to do so.

‘Security reasons’ is the mantra these days in Peshawar. A private university has closed down a public road in front of its campus in Hayatabad because of ‘security reasons’.

Government departments meant to serve people’s interest have become inaccessible because of ‘threats to security’ of the civil secretariat.

Millions of rupees meant for the development of people of Federally Administered Tribal Areas have been spent to construct a high concrete wall to beef up Fata Secretariat’s security. No questions being asked about the efficiency of those who are holding important offices in the secretariat.

Precious public funds have been misused to construct wide-and-high gated arches on roads that lead to the civil secretariat’s main entrances – again in the name of security.

People have apparently embraced curbs on their civil liberties for the security of those who rule them without rendering much service.

Though they, in Socrates’ words, are ‘beware of the barrenness of a busy life,’ Peshawarites seem to be less bothered about losing liberties, or sacrificing their comfort for the security of men in position.

Bala Hisar’s ancient interior, its Mughal Era architecture, ghastly gallows, sprawling yards, and dull corridors are likely to remain as elusive for the generations to come as has been the case with the present lot.